Can I Get A WootWoot?

Let's take a moment to truly appreciate just how far I have come, shall we?  A moment to reflect on the changes and triumphs of the last year, a nod to my goals reached and accomplishments made.  Because, well..freakin' BOOYAH, BABY!  I've busted out of so many ruts the path ahead is all smooth now.



Last summer, I was wearing a body covering black bathing suit (we all know the benefits of black), the skirt very thoughtfully covering my thighs.  This summer?  BAM.  That's a leopard print bikini, and it's one of FOUR bikinis I sported all summer long.  I have actual abs now and I really want everyone to get a good look at 'em.  On particularly good days, I find myself looking for an excuse to run errands in workout gear so strangers can be motivated by my gloriousness as well. 

Last summer, I started running and completed my first half marathon, donned in a long running skirt and tank top.  This summer, I emerged from a winter of beastly training and ran my first full marathon, donned in a sports bra and mini running skirt.  This summer, I completed my first Spartan Race and jumped over fire.   Last summer, I used walk/run intervals to train for my race. This summer, I am simply running as I train for the Runner's World Half Marathon and Festival.  (You may want to put on some sunglasses; my awesomeness is getting kinda blinding.)

Last summer, I was smack in the middle of TurboFire and it was the hardest workout I had ever managed to do.  This summer, I'm smack in the middle of Insanity and it IS the hardest workout I have ever done.  But I'm doing it and getting in even BETTER shape.  Traffic may stop by the time next summer rolls around...

Last summer, I was just beginning my road to a FitLife.  This summer, I am firmly entrenched and helping others as they begin wading in the SweatItOut pool.  I am running challenge groups, maintaining a business, and self-publishing a book.  I am on the road to certifications so I can get back to personal training and instructing.  I am headed towards even greater heights of awesomeness.  And the good news is - I'm taking YOU with me. 

All you gotta do is decide, commit, and succeed.  Three simple words.  The first two can be rough...but that last one is so terrifically sweet.  Trust me.  I know from personal experience.

Give A Hoot

You know I enjoy challenges, most particularly of the fitness variety.  I am also quite the Instagram addict.  This month, I am combining my two loves by completing a 30-day Fit Photo Challenge, which I first discovered via Chalene Johnson on Instagram. 

How can you participate, you ask?  Good thing for you, I am quite prepared to answer that question!  First, check out and save the picture right there up top.  As I began on July 1, the days of the challenge quite nicely correlate to the days of the month (because some people - not me, of course - can be quite scatterbrained and lose their place at times).  Then start posting your faboo pics on SweatItOut's Facebook page (link over there to your right), and voila!  You're knee deep in a new and fun challenge.  Even better - tell your friends and their friends that your pictures are up for the 'liking' and the pic with the most likes by July 31 wins a fantabulous fitness goodie basket.  Tell me again who your favorite blogger is...
Why am I doing it?  Well, because I find it motivates me and lately I've been requiring excessive motivation.  It makes me think about my workouts, my nutrition, my goals in ways that I, quite honestly, have not been doing as of late.  I have hit a bump in the road, a dry spell, fallen into a fitness funk, if you will.  This body is draggin' more than usual and I am pulling out all the stops to straighten it out.  So please - join me.  Motivate me.  Kick my virtual ass into gear.  Coffee, Shakeology, and E&E Formula can only do so much. 

Day 2: Healthy Lunch

Day 1: Before/Swimsuit Pic

So, Day 1 was the most challenging, at least for me.  And I am willing to bet for most of you readers.  Bathing suit and/or before pics always have strong embarassment potential.  But I find them to be highly motivating as well, because I am never satisfied with them.  Which translates to working harder on every aspect of my FitLife, including (Day 2: Healthy Lunch) my diet.

Day 3 was easy.  I work out nearly every day in some fashion, so I just had to post what that was (INSANITY, just in case you haven't been paying attention).

Day 3: Today's Workout

  Day 4 required more thought, as I typically don't pay much attention to the scale anymore.  I'm more about definition and the fit of my clothes.  But I do read a fair amount of women's fitness mags, which means I know what my goal looks like and what a woman my height and stature typically weighs when she looks that way.  So five pounds is my goal for this month; I'll tack on another five next month.


Day 4: Pounds I Will Lose

Day 5 was "Doing This For."  I have so many of those, but I chose the following: I do this for events (we all know how I feel about medals and bragging).  I do it so I can play with my kids and set an example for them.  I do it because it feels good.  I do it to look fabulous.  I do it for me.



Day 5: Doing This For

Day 6: Rest

Day 6: Rest.  I am not a good rester, in general.  I have explained in previous posts how it makes me feel guilty, though I quite understand my body requires it.  So to treat my body to the rest it so greatly deserves and to quiet those crazy thoughts, I add in light yoga or extended stretching on rest days.  Case closed, problem solved. 



Day 7: Fitness Gear

Day 7: Fitness Gear.  This month, that means surprisingly little.  For past programs, I had weights, weighted gloves, running shoes, fuel belts...This month, I've got my Insanity DVD's, my fitness magazines, and me.  And check out what that's done for my abs.  I anticipate I'll be cutting glass with those suckers by the end of my 60 days.  Don't be jealous.  There's still time to get crazy with my challenge group (with the added fun of trouncing Hubby's P90X group!).



Day 8: Healthy Treat

Day 8: Healthy Treat.  I love me some fruit salad (yummy, yummy - that's for all you parents of toddlers).  So tonight I layered it up with mango, pineapple, strawberries, and cantaloupe.  Woo, boy!  That was T-A-S-T-Y.
And pretty easy, challenge-wise.  I'll need to put more thought and creativity into tomorrow's picture (Day 9: Proud).  But those tend to be my favorites anyway.

So join me, won't you?  Consider this post your engraved invitation without any box to check for "cannot attend."  Help a sweaty sista out, friends.  Gimme that motivational push I seek. 
Ask not what SweatItOut can do for you, but what you can do for SweatItOut.  Read my lips: more new photos.  (New.  Not nude.  You guys and your dirty minds...)  There is nothing to fear but fat itself.  And many more inspirational and totally original motivational quotes, all of which mean the same basic thing: do what I tell you.  Take the pics.  Load 'em up.  Find me on Instagram (@miller343) and join me on Facebook, if you haven't already.  I am a hoot and a half, most days.  Some days, I'm even two or three hoots.  Maybe we can even restore me to a full 10 hoots if everyone rallies. 

In fact, I believe that is how the pictures shall be rated.  On a "hoot scale."  How many hoots are you?

Face in the Dirt

I knew it was coming...

Yesterday was our annual family reunion/Fourth of July pool party.  We gather each year at my cousin's lovely home to wreak havoc on their lawn, pool, and downstairs bathroom.  Food abounds in all varieties: desserts, grilled burgers and weiner meats, various noodled salads, baked beans, and even fresh fruits and veggies.  I had my food all planned out before we even left the house: tropical strawberry Shakeology, my own selections of berries and organic snacks, and lots of water.  To make food decisions even easier on myself, I donned my brand spankin' new stars-and-stripes bikini.  Started the day with a lovely flat belly and I was gonna finish with it, too.

The first appearance

Oh, but this year...this year my darling cousin prepared DIRT.  Now, if you have never seen nor tasted dirt, consider yourself both damned and incredibly blessed.  For once you taste this sweet nectar, you can never un-taste it and the addiction will be forever yours.  A creamy blend of whipped cream, vanilla pudding, cream cheese, and crushed Oreos, it is oh-so-easily scooped and devoured.  Sometimes, even three servings are not enough.  Not even when you have planned so very carefully and even told others to NOT DO THIS.  I actually posted a warning for moments such as these on my Facebook fan page (SweatItOut...there's a link right over there...go ahead and "like" it and have even more fun stalking me).  Somewhere in the back of my mind, I remembered my pious ways.  But my tastebuds and my belly had missions of their own.

Oh, THURP.

Alas, to make matters worse, it seemed everyone had cameras.  And it seemed that whenever said cameras were focused on me, my belly wanted all the attention.  Perhaps to showcase its precious and ever-expanding food baby.  In only one shot did my distended abdomen get upstaged: when a photo was snapped from behind and my ass said, "Hey! I'm not in great shape yet either!"

My ass would not be ignored.

OH. MY. HORROR.  I suppose I could shrink into myself if there was any room left next to the cheeseburgers (the dirt sent me spiraling...one helping of it and I was Alice falling into the rabbit hole, grabbing at anything that said "Eat me.").  Or...OR...I could use this as more motivation.  Yes, I was not as gorgeous as I had hoped.  I was not as steadfast as I had planned.  But I am farther than I was.  No more double chin.  No more triceps waving goodbye long after my hand has stopped.  And my ass is at least higher than in previous summer photos.  And, really, I think my back looks pretty darn good. 

At least I drank water...

Plus, now I am even more motivated for my Insanity Challenge Group.  I am expecting big results, and I'm clear about what my goals are now.  I will have to work hard, both at the food table and with the workouts, but I like that.  I live for that shit.  I will not be deterred.  So, yes, I am also beginning my 30-day Fitness Photo challenge today.  Which means I am supposed to submit either a bathing suit or a before shot to my fan page.  I say, why not both?  It'll be a two-in-one, because I plan on taking that next bathing suit shot in 30 days and seeing yet another transformation.  This project is not finished yet.

I Got To Keep On Movin'

Okay.  Run for the Red is ten days away.  I am still injury free, despite my cats' attempts to do me in via a stairway fall and the babe's fascination with rolling Matchbox cars my way during TurboFire.  But then, two days ago, my iPhone fell in the toilet.  (Clean bowl, thank the heavens.)  All was good - except the volume.  No sound.  A minor wrinkle, to be sure, but enough of a wrinkle to start those sneakered butterflies running laps around my belly.  For no volume = no music for 26.2 miles.  No volume = no voice reminders for my intervals.  (Hey, we're all spoiled by technology, and the lady who gently reminds me of my time has become a close friend of mine.)  A wrinkle to be sure, but I could iron this one out (and iron it far better than any shirt unlucky enough to meet my ironing board).  As of today, I am the proud and excited owner of the iPhone 4s and I have a new lady in my life.  So, see?  Crisis averted.

Oh, but wait!  Those ten miles I was scheduled to run this afternoon?  The ones Hubby and I planned our schedules around to be sure they weren't missed?  They're gonna be missed.  Apparently the engineers in Jersey did not get my training memo and Hubby has received extra work at the office.  Seriously?  Don't these people know my race is but ten days away?  I briefly toyed with the idea of pawning the older children off via playdates at someone else's home, but that still leaves me with a teething babe.  It is doubtful he (or I) would make it through ten miles with a jogging stroller.  And Mother Nature is just rubbing salt in my wounds.  The first gorgeous day in a week and my running feet are trapped in crosstrainers.

That's right.  I laced up the Asics and popped in a DVD.  I may not be assured of the time I need to meet my planned mileage, but that doesn't mean I'm sprawled out in bed trying to figure out why every female my age or older is raving about Fifty Shades of Grey (I tried, ladies...but melodramatic softcore porn will never beat out Abraham Lincoln, Vampire Hunter).  No.  I just finished forty-five minutes of Zumba (all that listening to QiDANCE lately had me in the mood to dance) and if need be, I'll log some extra TurboFire time today.  I'm still dreaming of a quick run, but Chalene always has my back if I can't get there. 

My point is this: Murphy's Law is real.  It does exist.  Life exists.  Every day problems creep out and worm their way into your plans.  This is the point when many say they don't have the time to work out.  Well, I haven't been training for six freakin' months to let life get in the way of my goals.  I can't run?  So what?  I can still train and get my heart racin' for the two hours I planned on those ten miles taking me.  Screw you, Murphy.  I got bigger fish to fry. 

I have been called stubborn, bullheaded, and other descriptive words I choose not to share.  I'll take that.  If I wasn't, I wouldn't be meeting goals left, right, and straight on.  I'd still be in the same old rut, dreaming of being fit and wishing I had race medals hanging on my walls.  I wouldn't be sharing my love of fitness with everyone I meet (and some I haven't) or helping others get started meeting their own goals.  So, yes...I am stubborn.  I refuse to let life's annoyances interfere with my to-do list.  It's like the Bear Hunt song my kids used to sing in preschool...Can't go over it, can't go under it...You gotta go through it.  It's really the only way (plus, it's the most fun way too).

(And PS...it's this bitch got it done for six months...and now this bitch has that leopard bikini...:)  BOO. YAH.)



Itsy Bitsy Teeny Weeny...

...Old Navy leopard print bikini...Isn't that how the song goes?  It SHOULD.  At the behest of my dear darling daughter (who may have just entrenched herself as my Current Favorite Child), I tried on a bikini this evening whilst shopping for more workout gear.  She is a fairly avid fan of both animal prints and bikinis and was quite enthusiastic to dress me.  I, however, was more hesitant.  Sensing my reluctance, the CFC said to me, in the sweetest and most melodious voice to reach my ears, "You have to wear one this year, Mom.  You can now.  Because of all that exercising you do."  How could I refuse such a wonderful child?  Add in the fact that when I did my measurements this morning, my waist had gone in 1.5" and it was a no-brainer.

CFC was right.  I looked gooooood.  Six pack abs.  An actual waist.  I very much wanted to take this suit home with me.  Alas, due to "all that exercising" I do, I actually was in dire need of new (smaller) workout clothing and the budget does not allow for both necessary and frivolous on the same day.  I hated to return the bikini to its home, but I relished the knowledge that not only did it fit, it made me look AH-mazing. 

Yes, I exercise to be strong and fit.  I love the feeling I get when I'm sweating through TurboFire and ready to bust through the walls with my energy.  I am uberproud that I now do push ups on my toes and run insane amounts of miles every weekend.

But I gotta own up.  I rather enjoy the outer evidence of all the hard work I've been putting in.  I can't get away with running about town in a sports bra and compression shorts, no matter how much I sometimes wish I could.  When my new core catches my eye in the mirror, I can't ignore the chemistry.  I love my new self.  A lot.  So much so that every now and then I swear I hear the first few bars of "Stayin' Alive" when I walk through the living room.  My hips have an extra wiggle after a workout and I find myself lost in my biceps.  They say on average, we fall in love four times in our lives.  Well, I turned out to be one of those times for myself.  I am 99% sure Hubby is perfectly fine with that. 

After sizing myself up in that dressing room, it was incredibly easy to glide past the warm pretzel smell of Auntie Anne's.  I cared nothing for the caramel bars lurking in Gertrude Hawk or the myriad chips and crunchy snacks I enountered when we stopped for groceries.  The only thing going through my mind was how I'm going back to Old Navy in two weeks and buying that damn bathing suit.

What the...?!?!

Okay, so I posted the photos...I can see the difference.  I can feel the difference.  But I made Hubby do my measurements because I just had to compare...and I actually gained inches and pounds.  So...how come?  And yes, that was meant to be read in a whiney, petulant, and quite immature manner, because that was my exact reaction.  How can I be further from the goals I set for myself when I have been working so diligently?  I made him remeasure for good measure.  I briefly considered that we may have a faulty tape measure.  I nearly became disheartened.  BUT...

When I began this journey, I maxed out at ten pushups on my knees.  And that was on a good day.  Now, I can bust out fifteen on my toes - and follow that set up with some military style, wide angle, decline, and divebomber pushups, still on my toes.  My five-pound weights are pretty dusty because they've haven't been touched in weeks.  I can run 14.5 miles and still play outside all afternoon with my kids.  I no longer strain to touch my toes, because instead, I am touching the floor during stretches.  Instead of modifying shorter cardio workouts, I'm busting out every move at the top of the class - TWICE A FREAKIN' DAY. 

So, my little pity party is over.  We don't pity the Awesome.  We are not sad for the Incredible.  And I'm pretty sure I'm both of those right now (I'm riding a pretty intense P90X Plyometrics high).  As I've said before, my goals, they are a-changin'.  Sometimes I just need to use my newly developed quads to deliver a swift kick into my own firm ass as a reminder.  The bikini will come, but the better stuff is coming first. 

My Goals, They Are A-Changin'...

My goal was to lose ten pounds.  Sounded attainable yet worthy.  Then the muscle started building and my focus shifted from pounds to inches.   Then I started noticing what those new muscles could do and that focus shifted again, this time to an amazing number of things.  How many pushups can I do? Situps? Reps? How many miles can I run? How quickly can I run them? Can I do TurboFire with weighted gloves? Can I do even one pullup? And will I be able to wear a bikini this summer? (I never said I lost complete sight of my shallow goals.)

The same change happened with my food intake.  I had been so focused on caloric intake that I had stopped enjoying any intake.  If it was within my range, there was no flavor.  If it left the range (and it often not only left the range but scaled the wall and travelled into another realm), I felt massive amounts of guilt, ruining any sense of enjoyment.  I went back to my recipe books, juggling the various meals to suit not just my own tastes, but my family's as well.  We began eating more healthfully, even trying new foods (to my immese gratification and nearly everyone else's chagrin).  I now look at labels for the nutrients foods offer vs. the calories they cost me.  We prepare meals at home, going out for dinner only as a special treat (which has the added benefit of saving our family of six beaucoup bucks).  This means there are no added sauces, butters, oils, or salts.  We know what we're putting into our bodies and our bodies are thanking us.  I believe my proudest moment came when my 7-year-old swore off McDonald's of her own accord, stating it made her feel ill to eat such junk.  I think that alone makes me a pretty successful mom.  And the end result of the increased attention to fitness for its own sake and healthful eating for its own sake?  Bye bye, inches!

The shift happened so gradually I nearly missed it.  Laundry began to pile on the scale.  The tape measure got misplaced.  I started counting reps and comparing run times.  I started buying organic and filling the fridge with produce.  I ate when I was hungry and stopped when I felt full.  The irony of it all is that I actually work harder and eat better when I'm not working for weight loss.  And because I'm working harder and eating better, I am losing more.  Yes, please, and thank you! 

So now I have more specific goals.  This year: complete a marathon, finish a Spartan, start swimming, and get certified as an instructor.  Next year: more marathons, Tough Mudder, triatholon, and teach classes.  Of course, the bikini is still on the list, it just sits a little lower (next to the mini skirt)...