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.

To The Max

After a simply lovely recovery week with Insanity, I entered month two feeling strong and relaxed.  For about 30 seconds.  My intense love of Shaun T nearly spiraled into a dark hatred, that spiral being full of curses, tears, and copious amounts of salty sweat.  Then I remembered, oh right...It was I that chose to do this.  I'm doing this to myself.

And I dug deeper.

It sucked big balls, I ain't gonna lie.  I hurt.  I did not feel strong or badass or powerful.  I felt like the last kid picked for dodge ball and I wanted to curl into a little ball with some mint chocolate chip ice cream and watch Designing Women reruns.  But I didn't.  I stood tall when I could muster the strength to do so and pushed right through that workout.  And once it was over, it didn't seem so bad.

Then today, I did the next one.  SWEET MOTHER OF GOD.  I must continually remind myself that this feeling right here, this is what week one felt like.  And then week two was better.  Never easier, mind you.  Never easier, just better.  You will only understand if you are also doing or have done an intense workout - Insanity, CrossFit, TapOutX, or the like.  (And yes, I want to try the other two as well.)

Now, I get those last few paragraphs are not exactly what we in the biz call "selling points."  So let me show you some of the "pros." 

1.  I am stronger than I have ever been.  I did freakin' BALANCE PUSHUPS today.  Ten of 'em. 

2.  I am in the best cardio shape I have been in.  Running is pretty easy now, and I'm faster too.  Popped in TurboFire Fire 55 EZ the other day - still a great and fun workout, still love it - BUT...not the absolute killer it used to me.  Not even with my weighted gloves. 

3.  I am getting clear cut results.  As in, my muscles are cutting through my skin.  My arms, when relaxed, now look the way they used to look flexed.  Take that, First Lady Obama.

4.  I just plain feel great.  I take a lot of pride in completing these workouts and doing more and more of them every week.  It's the toughest thing I've set out to do thus far and I'm doing it.  That kinda spills over into non-workout life as well.  More steps have been taken towards teaching and training.  I self-published my first collection of posts from this lil' ol' blog.  My business is growing steadily.  Because my body is functioning better, my head is clearer, I have more energy and drive and focus...if you can believe that it was possible to have more.

I'm not saying Insanity is the program for everybody.  But I bet it is the program for more than you think.  That's right - YOU.  What are YOU doing today?  Wanna get crazy with me?

Me, Myself, and I(ron)

Ah, anemia...just when I forget all about you, there you are, tugging at my ankles and weighing them down, laying your weight across my quads and my biceps, turning my shoulders and neck to lead.  I loathe you...

It's one of those on-again, off-again relationships, and I am so much happier and so much more me when it's off again.  I've been pretty religious about taking my iron supplements and eating more spinach than Popeye could fit in both biceps, but the last few days have seen me sliding ever-so-ungracefully out from beneath the covers and lurching through my day.  I wish I could say through my workouts, but today was my first sweat session in three days.  Just in case you're unaware, that's kind of unheard of around these parts.  This is a gal who likes to get her sweat on.

My plan had been to readjust to those pre-dawn workouts, pretty much my only guaranteed time to be all alone with Shaun T or grab an outdoor run.  My alarm goes off each day at 5:45; I immediately shut it off and commence staring at the ceiling, checking my Facebook notifications, and catching up on all those missed late-night talk shows I can no longer stay awake to watch.  I ponder reaching to my left and mixing my E&E to garner the required energy to simply start my day.  But it's too much most days.  And so I feel sad, a tad guilty, and still exhausted. 

The amount of sleep just doesn't matter.  I can sleep a little; I can sleep a lot.  I have become the Goldilocks of sleeping, but I still haven't found the "just right" amount when anemia slithers into bed.  If you've dealt with low iron, you know the feeling.  If you haven't, you're probably thinking, "She's just lazy."  And you can go right ahead and slap yourself in your smug little face, seeing as how my arm is too weary for me to do it.  This gal, right here, ain't lazy.  When it comes to putting laundry away (I have a strong aversion to returning anything to its rightful place) or retrieving the mail (all the way across the street? Why can't they just put it on my porch?), perhaps a tad.  But when we're talkin' workouts, running, lifting, sweating...I am anything BUT.  In fact, I push myself to make these sessions as tough as possible.  I live for this crap.  So anemia really pisses me the f#$k off.

Which is why today I forced myself to mix and drink that E&E and push through Cardio Power and Resistance.  I am so freaking amazing.  Not only did I manage to get through it, but I got through it with very few modifications.  I was a tad slower than usual, but I managed to eke out every move with proper form.  That's pretty balls-to-the-wall awesome, and I thank you for realizing that.  Could I have done it without E&E?  I really don't think so.  A slow walk would have been more my speed.  But with the E&E, anemia was my BITCH. 

So I vow that tomorrow morning, I will drink sooner and save Colbert, Stewart, and Handler for laundry sorting time (that's when I cart the clean clothes to my bedroom, spread them over my bed, and then sit down and watch tv and marvel at how quickly I have run out of time to actually sort the laundry).  That just leaves the question...who's workin' out with me tomorrow morning????

Maintaining the Temple

If only...

So we've covered workouts, nutrition, and sleep (or incredible lack thereof).  Now let's talk about DOCTORS.

You kinda need a whole team of them to keep the body tickin' and your health in check, but I prefer to think of my various doctors as my entourage, their white coats blowing back as they walk slow motion toward me, clipboards in hand, crocs ready for some asskicking if that's what's necessary to keep my temple fit.  Although actually, my OBGYN wears some killer heels.  That lady's got serious style, which is nice because I'd prefer to focus on her fabulous leopard print stillettos than what's actually happening on that table.

I've been linin' up the appointments and knockin' 'em down, just like my goals.  Yes, I know they can be a pain the scheduling ass, whether you're concerned with missed office time or finding a place to stow several unruly children.  But you know you have to do it.  In the past month I have visited the following:

Someday, this will be my corneal flap.

My eye doctor.  I love him unnaturally.  He takes care of my peepers and also chats with me about my running while firmly reminding me that I am not meant to sleep in my contacts and threatening me with glasses.  (You may not have guessed it, but I am quite vain.  I don't like glasses and I am convinced they don't like me either.)  What does this appointment have to do with fitness, aside from the obvious? 

Well, I detest wearing glasses during any sweaty activity.  They slip, they slide, they hinder my wiping-away-of-the-sweat.  Also, if I am wearing glasses, that likely means I've got an eye infection of some sort.  Which means my eye(s) hurt.  Which means I'm cranky (and when you add in the irritation of being a four-eyed mama, the situation is not good for anyone in the vicinity).  So take care of your eyes, be they 20/20 blessings from the gods or bespectacled little windows to your soul.  I am being extra special vigilant, as I am planning for LASIK within the next year.  Cross all your fingers and toes for me, even the little ones.  I long to join the non-corrective-lense-wearing crowd.   I heard that's where the cool kids are.

Next on my list?  The gynocologist.  WARNING! FEMALE TALK ALERT!  I may use terms like "period" or "tampon" in the near future, so you men may want to avert your eyes.  This is my least  my absolute favorite appointment all rolled into one.  I hate the actual procedures, but I do so adore my doctor.  She is witty, sarcastic, and as previously stated, has great shoes.  Never seen the same pair twice.  We discussed my incredible fitness level, how awesome I am for completing my first marathon and Spartan race, and how absolutely adorable my children are (she really gets me).  Then we discussed Hunter S. Thompson (I was reading Gonzo while waiting) and hey - all done!  Time flies when you've got great convo, even when wearing nothing but a paper gown with your knees next to your ears.  Check that off the list till next year!



Now THAT's a pillow.

Yesterday was my very first visit to the dermatologist.  As a transparently skinned person, I should have been going long before now just for checkups.  Skin cancer is rather serious business and I've got the pale skin worth worrying about.  But I waited until I had an issue - a small little painful something-or-other on my left ear that just wouldn't heal up and go away...for a year.  Naturally, about a month ago I read an article on skin cancer in Oxygen magazine and began tweaking out.  Yesterday, as I chased the babe around the waiting room I got choked up imagining a time I wouldn't be able to extricate him from the other families he continually tried to join (I suppose we have lost our luster), and by the time the doctor walked into the exam room I was ready for the worst.

I sleep on my left ear too much.  I need to stop that.  True story.  A special pillow with an ear hole will be necessary if I can't sleep on my right side or my back.  Shot of cortisone and a follow up appointment in six weeks to be sure that I am, indeed, not sleeping on my left side is also required. 



Neither attractive nor fit.

HOWEVER - I did learn my lesson.  I have upped my sunblock and banished those inane voices from my youth that refuse to accept that tanning is bad and awful and unnecessary.  And I will be adding in an overall skin checkup to my yearly arsenal of appointments. 

All that's left is the podiatrist (my runner's feet need a bit of shock treatment before I subject them to distance training again), the regular ol' family doc, and (yes, that is fear entering my nearsighted eyes) the dentist.  I am overdue for a routine physical (and feeling quite cocky about it.  I mean, come on.) and for my biyearly cleaning (a FitGal's gotta have sparkle in her smile).  But I'm going to make those appointments because I'm all about being a well rounded (and firmly muscled) FitGal.  I wouldn't skimp on my children's healthcare, and I have recently come to realize that my care is equally important. 

Plus, each appointment garners me at least an hour or two of uninterrupted reading, Facebook, or Zynga time.  Stick a nonalcoholic frozen pina colada in my hand and that's a vacation right there.

Bring Me A Dream...

I workout.  I eat (mostly) right.  I slather on my sunblock, buckle my seatbelt, and take the occasional mental health day far from people under voting age.  I'm an all-around, even keel kinda FitGal. 

Except for sleeping.

I should be doing it right now.  Yes, I am perfectly aware that it is bright and sunshiny and lunchtime.  It's also the babe's naptime; we were at HersheyPark all day yesterday; we did not arrive home until after midnight and I did not crash into slumber until after 2 a.m.  Oh - and that precious, darling, oh-so-bushytailed little bundle of JOY was up at 7:30.  It sucked, but I was already planning on catching up at naptime.

So what the hell is my problem, you ask?  I don't even freakin' know.  I have been drooling over this naptime all morning.  Chores have gotten about as much attention as the latest rerun of Yes, Dear and I even bypassed my usual morning coffee for fear the caffeine would hinder my shut-eye abilities.  I fed one kid Kashi GoLean with rice milk and the other Jolly Ranchers.  I ate two Doritos and a whole wheat cranberry bagel with peanut butter (so not a good combo).  I was - and still am - exhausted. 

I had it all set...the babe is napping in my bed, because he takes longer naps there.  I've got a good five previously viewed episodes of Cajun Justice all queued up, because there's something about that show that both interests and soothes me.  (Only The Golden Girls and Everybody Loves Raymond can compete for lullabies.)  The iPhone is set to silent and plugged into the dock.  The older monkeys are quietly absorbed in Barbies and Legos.  Just typing this makes my eyelids droop and my mouth drop open in a yawn.

Then I snuggle in next to the babe and my mind says things like, "Hey, did you let the dogs out? How was that workout you didn't do? Don't forget - you have a doctor's appointment this afternoon at an office you've never visited, you have to talk all three kids along, and you typically run late. Better not oversleep."

My mind is a bitch.  I tried reading.  I tried Words With Friends.  I tried imagining doing laundry and the dishes.  (Sometimes, just thinking about the energy required to do household chores has a Benadryl-like effect on my body.)  But my mind won't quit. 

And - I know I'm not alone here - I am always skimping on the sleep.  There is always one more chore to do, a few more minutes of a rescheduled workout to sweat through, one more chapter to read, one more episode to watch.  It seems women particularly are hardwired to keep pushing through, no matter the detriment to our bodies.  And here's the breakdown:

Lack of sleep can lead to an increased chance of heart disease/attack/failure, irregular heartbeat, high blood pressure, stroke, and diabetes.  It can slaughter your sex drive, make you look old, and deplete any remaining intelligence your children haven't already stolen.  Know what else?  Makes you fat. 

So all those late night workouts to make up for the missed morning sessions?  All those extra few moments preparing the next day's healthy meals traded for a few more moments of sleep?  Gonna be all for naught if you never actually SLEEP.  Plus, think about your eating habits when you're tired.  Might I remind you of my Dorito and bagel coupling mentioned above?  Point made.

So for the love of all that is Fit and Holy - GET SOME FREAKIN' SLEEP.  Figure out how to shut that nagging crone up (refraining from making sarcastic remarks about anyone I actually know because of course I'm simply referring to that inner voice...) and start making regular appearances in Dreamland, Neverland, WhereEVERland...Just close your eyes and snore.  Well, maybe not snore because that can be a sign of all sorts of issues, too.  But I'm too tired to write about those right now.

Oh - and might I add that lack of sleep turns this Queen into more of a Wicked Witch?  My family will attest to that.  They'll attest quickly and adamently and repeatedly.  We have all learned from past tirades and meltdowns - mine, not the children's - that I must issue the warning of "I am hungry and/or tired" in a relatively calm yet firm tone and that this warning must be immediately followed by everyone kissing my ass and providing me with food and/or a pillow.  Even FitGals run into walls from time to time; the key is allowing yourself to slide back down instead of rallying to climb over.

Trust me.  There will be more walls tomorrow.

My Bucket Runneth Over

Everyone's always talking, pinning, writing about their Bucket Lists.  I think I even made one myself after I saw the movie, but can't remember much of what went on it.  I vaguely recall returns to skydiving, New Orleans, and Savannah - but there had to be more to it than that, right?  I mean, where's the marathons?  The mud races? OH, RIGHT.  That was way back before my FitLife.  Looks like it's time for a revamp. 

So what's my Bucket List look like now?  Full to overflowing, I'd say.

1.  Complete the Tinkerbell Half Marathon in DisneyWorld, dressed in full costume.  Because I love that little smartass fairy.
2.  Complete the ToughMudder and the Spartan without doing any burpees, because I hate those little smartass moves.
3.  Try my hand at freelancing, because people love reading my smartass blog posts.
4.  Get my certifications in order and create a fitness empire.  (I'm done with the smartass theme now.)
5.  Turn Hubby into a fitness-lovin' machine.  I know he's got it in him somewhere.
6.  Run a 5k with my kids.  Not stroll through downtown Philly or Bethlehem, but actually run.  Without complaints.  Or whining.  Okay, this may be the most difficult item to cross off my list.
7.  Go white water rafting.
8.  Learn to ski properly and perhaps even give snowboarding a go.
9.  Take some fitness classes - hot yoga, martial arts, you name it, I wanna do it.
10.  Corral these lovely little posts into coherent essays and put 'em in a book.

And that's just a TASTE of my goals.  I sat down to write this list and thought, "What would I try if I knew I couldn't fail?"  Here's ten things.  And every one of 'em gets my blood pumpin' and my adrenal glands goin'.  Why?  Because they all involve some form of fitness - whether its mental or physical.  A year ago, I wouldn't have imagined I would be able to do the things I now do on a daily basis.  So I'm learning that there's no reason to limit myself.  What fun are limitations anyway?

The down-and-dirty of it is a simple daily to-do list.  Pick one of these, break it down into little itty bitty goals, and suddenly - the scary is not to be found.  The impossible has turned into I AM POSSIBLE.  (Would you like some cheese on your blog today? Why, yes, thank you!)  Sometimes, the focus is lacking.  I'm the first to admit day-to-day can muscle in on the lofty dreams of even this most dedicated FitGal.  I can blame the kids, the pets, the anemia, the house...but really, at the center of the blame game, it's just me.  I choose how to allot the majority of my time (some things can't be helped, like ER trips for splinters in a werewolf's butt - true and funny story, but for another time).  So if my dreams aren't getting closer, that's on me. 

I started this blog back in February, I believe.  That first post was frightening.  Putting it out there with the assumption that people would want to read anything I wrote seemed cocky, plus what if it wasn't good, wasn't entertaining?  I know.  I'm laughing at my February Self, too.  OF COURSE it was good.  OF COURSE it was entertaining.  That's why we're still here together, right?  Because I just get wittier and more motivating EVERY SINGLE DAY.  What's my point, you ask?  (As if I needed one.  It's my blog, after all.  Sheesh.)  My point is this: you forge past the intimidating and accomplish one goal, suddenly the others don't seem so far out of reach.  In fact, they downright look like nosy next-door neighbors peering in your front windows, they're so close. 

Invite 'em in, take the scary out.  They may be crazy, sure, but that's half the fun.  And I so don't want to be lying on my bed at age 99 wondering what else I could have done.  I want to be too busy pushing through to notice that my face was just plastered on the Morning Show for making it 100.

Tooting My Own Horn

Let me set the stage for you.

I was feeling ravenous from all those crazy Insanity workouts.  The kids were in bed, so I could eat whatever I chose without having to hide in a dark closet somewhere for fear of sharing.  (Don't act like you haven't learned to open candy wrappers with nary a crinkle.)  There were even full-sized Hershey bars sitting in the freezer (had to replenish the previously depleted supply). 

I chose salad.  And it was good.

Fer realz, yo.  Dead serious.  I couldn't get enough of those dark leafy greens, those crunchy organic carrots and red bell peppers, coated ever-so-lightly with Wegmans Traditional Italian dressing.  Just typing this, I swear to the gods of all that is fit, my mouth is watering.  For a freakin' salad.  And not a taco salad or a bowl of greens topped with ranch dressing and fried chicken strips.  Just a bowlful of that organic spring mix and various veggies chopped into bitesize pieces.  The cool crispness of it, the simple flavors!  How did this become more appealing than (dare I say it?!?) chocolate cake????

I have not a freakin' clue.  I just don't know.  The switch flipped AGAIN.  How many switches can one FitGal possibly have?  First the workout switch.  Then the Shakeology switch and the vegetarian switch and the nonalcoholic switch.  Now a salad-over-junk-food switch???  Sometimes, I just have to shake my head in wonderment at how far I've come and how much my awesomeness increases every day.

I was just describing this very scenario in a message with a friend who is on her own fitness journey.  She was, in her own words, "tooting her own horn" but then almost apologizing for doing so, perhaps, I believe, worried I may find her boastful.  Um...hello?  I reminded her that she was indeed speaking the Master Tooter, the Queen of Tooting, the Tooter of all Tooters...and so no need to backtrack on her own toots.

And yes, I found the irony and the humor in the language used, which is why you're reading about it now.  I get it.  Toot = fart.  And because I possess the humor level of a six-year-old, that is freakin' hysterical.  Especially because I have cleared rooms lately with all the veggie intake.  My apologies are extended if I don't get a handle on all these new gastrointestinal shenanigans before I see you out in public...but hey, it's just the result of some good ol' fashioned healthy eatin'!  Join me!  The old song is true: the more ya toot, the better ya feel.  It's my mantra for the time being anyway.

And it's bound to get worse, because I gotta add in some more beans to make up for the protein I'm not getting from meat.  I'm back on dairy for now, until I sit down and research that part too.  Mainly because I just feel better when I don't eat dairy, but right now, it's a convenient source of protein for me.  But the beans are still necessary, and I really do love 'em.  They fill me up, give me energy, and - most importantly - they're quite delicious...and good for your heart...*snort*chuckle*snort*

So I ain't ashamed to toot my horn.  Which is good, because sometimes, I just can't help myself, no matter how hard I may try.  Consider this fair warning: meet me outdoors and stand downwind until my body adapts to the new diet.  It'll adapt, just like my tastebuds adapted.  Till then, I'll consider it a trumpet of triumph over my previous malnourished ways.

Do More, Indeed.

What have I gotten myself into today?  Lemme tell ya.

It's the first of the month, so automatically that means two things.  1: My TurboLEAN Challenge Group kicks off today!  Love new challenge groups, love all things Chalene, love my challengers!  Automatic motivation boost.  2.  Today ALSO means the start of the SweatItOut AugustAbsChallenge, which includes a new ab move for every day of the month.  Keep in mind that I'm also not only leading but partaking in the Let's Get Crazy Insanity group and doing my best to boost training morale over at the SweatItOut Screamin' Spartans.  How am I doing that, you ask?  Lemme tell ya.

Today, I have thrown down a gauntlet for the Screamin' Spartans and my Insaniacs: do the Spartan Training workout of the day.  No problem, right?  Only today is Buck Furpee Day.  That means 300 burpees over the course of the day.  Fun stuff!  And they took the bait, so we're off and running.  WOOHOO and OOO-RA!

Now, about that AugustAbsChallenge (to be henceforth referred to as the AAC).  I briefly toyed with the idea of starting off slowly with a simple move like crunches to failure.  But...it just felt so vanilla and blah.  I'm much more in the mood for...THE HUNDRED.  Could be the endorphins coursing through my sweaty self after busting out Pure Cardio and Cardio Abs.  Could be the energy rush from a little E&E Formula I drank during my workout.  Could be that it's just the first of the month and that always sounds appealing and clean-slate-ish to me.

Or it could be that I like to jump first and look later.

Because I also forgot that today is the sumo squat "like" challenge for my TurboLEAN gals.  You know, because I like to charge headfirst.  Never mind that wall that I'm bound to crash into sometime this afternoon (or, I hope, this evening.  Big day today - I got a new fridge comin'!). 

So let's rehash that, shall we?  Go over my SweatItOut checklist for the day.

1.  Pure Cardio and Cardio Abs - We can check this one off.  Done, finished, finito, BAM.
2.  AugustAbsChallenge - the hundred.  About to bang this one out as soon as I finish writing all about it. 

True story.

3.  Buck Furpee Day - the plan is sets of 30 throughout the day, but I am gonna make a valiant attempt to kill 'em all as soon as possible.  Because I am ever aware of that wall...
4.  Sumo Squat Challenge - this could go all day, as long as people keep "liking" my photo.  But hey, I wanted to work on my lower body, right?  These thighs will make mincemeat outta that sumo.

Cute, ain't he?

And there you have it.  August 1.  So, uh...what are your workout plans for today?

A Skinny Girl No More

Know what this FitGal just can't hold anymore?  Her liquor.

That's right.  I said it.  I overdrank.  Went to a party to celebrate what's known in these parts as the "Big Time."  Which is actually very small time, but with lots of alcohol and Italian deliciousness.  The food - not a problem.  I'm finding that vegetarianism is an incredibly easy transition for me.  Just like that workout switch flipped for me way back when, the meatless switch has been flipped as well.  So no biggie there.

The alcohol - problem.  See, I totally forgot that I haven't had a drink since...well...it's been a really long time.  I don't typically indulge at home or when we go out to dinner (which is a fairly infrequent occurrence in and of itself), nor do I join in every time we head out to a gathering.  It's just not my "thing" anymore.  But on this occasion, Hubby was nice enough to grab me two bottles of Skinny Girl in brand new flavors - and that stuff doesn't even taste like alcohol. 

But it is.

I felt great for about an hour...and then AWFUL for the next twenty-four.  I know everyone praying to the porcelain gods makes the same promise, but I can swear to you now on my new Adidas TR 170's...NEVER AGAIN. 

I spent a good deal of yesterday in recovery mode.  Missed my scheduled fit test.  Barely left the bed.  Drank a Dr. Pepper.  And it got me thinking very seriously about how I had just treated the body I typically handle with such care.  I mean, what had I gained from this?

The answer was clear: absolutely nothing.  I would have had a fabulous time anyway, and I would have had it longer.  I would have completed my fit test on schedule (instead of having to double up my workouts today).  I would have gotten lots of chores out of the way, done my weekly food prep, and spent more quality time with the monkeys.  No drink tastes so good that I would trade all of that. 

So this once hard-partyin', holdin'-her-liquor Queen isn't goin' soft.  No...I'm just adding another segment in my FitLife.  Turns out, I am so careful about what I put into my body on a regular basis that it just can't tolerate when I throw it a curve ball.

But guess what?  I actually feel really great about that.  I don't drink enough to miss it, nor do I need that crutch in a social situation.  So I'm good.  I'm sure I'll face some backlash here and there.  But I hit that at every step, I've found.  Some were irritated by my zest for exercise.  Then it was the lean diet.  Now the vegetarianism.  Soon, it'll be my alcohol-free state. 

Screw 'em.  I am solid in my decision and I know my body will thank me. 

Besides, I find life so more fun when my face isn't hanging over toilet water.  Don't you?

Mom, Interrupted

Mornings at our humble Estate begin this way: the babe cries to alert me to his full diaper and dissatisfaction with location.  I grope my way blindly to his crib, correct problem #1 and transfer him to our bed, thereby correcting problem #2.  I typically crawl back in for a snuggle while we catch up on the previous night's installment of The Colbert Report and The Daily Show.  (Look at me, a news junkie...) 

You can see why I get excited...

Now, if you've read previous posts (which of course, you HAVE) you know that I spent much of last summer and winter prepping for my marathon by rising early for lengthy runs.  So now that I've moved on to Insanity, that's continued...or not...because actually, I have been sweatin' away during nap time.  Much less chance of interruption by children who expect to be fed or dogs that confuse linoleum with lawn. 

This morning, now...this morning...a fellow Insanity challenger tagged me in her Facebook post and that got me all kinds of antsy for my workouts (I have one to make up from yesterday as my own dear mama was up for a visit).  I stopped Colbert mid-snarkiness, put on actual clothes and started my coffee (which I needed to deal with those lawn-confused mutts and their own status updates all over my floor).  Hubby even settled the babe in with Elmo and the gang, so things were lookin' good. 

Then Hubby took a shower.  Damn him!  The babe became quite upset; the mutts desired a chance to defecate outside; I discovered itty bitty ants all around my kitchen sink; dishes needed done; the 6-year-old awoke...Damn it all to hell! 

I am currently baking banana bread and writing my blog.  Two things I can do whilst also running the household and cursing my lack of a full staff here at the M&M Estate.

It smells delicious.

But here's my point: I could say "To hell with it!" and climb back under the covers and snuggle on this incredibly stormy and gray day - and at some point, I can pretty much guarantee you'll find me and three little monkeys watching The Sandlot or Princess Bride.  HOWEVER - you will also find me (at some point, hopefully around 11 or 12) doing push-up jacks, power squats, and the like.  Because I WILL NOT ALLOW a thing like "life" to get in the way of my fitness goals. 

See, that's the excuse I am always hearing, more than any other.  (Except maybe motivation.  But then I just say, "Read my blog" and people get all transformed and shit.)  "I don't have the tiiii-iiiime."  That word - TIME - is nearly always said with a whiiiiiiiine, so right away, I am irritated.  Whiners and pansies are right at the top of my "No Way, Uh-Uh List."  I don't hang with 'em.  You wanna complain about your dissatisfaction - I'll listen.  But if I offer you ideas, if I offer you solutions - and then you prattle on searching for MORE reasons to NOT handle your shit...well, let's just say we probably won't be talking much after that.  You may be talking, but I will have stopped listening and begun contemplating the lint between my toes.

There's a difference between having the time and making the time.  You either want it or you don't.  If you don't, that's your choice.  But don't come crying to a FitGal with your scheduling woes.  I currently manage the lives of four other people and two furpeople (no one can manage a cat, so I won't even include those arrogant balls of fluff).  At any point on any given day, I am breaking up fights, disinfecting surfaces, laundering, cooking, planning, chauffering, shopping (and not the fun kind, so wipe that smirk off your face), nursing, organizing, or supervising...but that's every parent (or should be - don't even get me started!).  I'm not unique in my overpacked days - and NEITHER ARE YOU.  So save your sad story for your Facebook status.  (And please, make it vague and slightly dramatic so you get lots of attention).  I am actually too busy to listen.

1,000 Words...Or More...

You can stop pacing and biting those fingernails now.  I am finally posting more photos for my 30-Day Fit Photo Challenge!  That's right, you can breathe easy now.  The moment is here, my friend.



Day 12: Sweat

Now, where did I leave off?  I actually just had to go back and check...and HOLY CRAP!  I've got some major catching up to do!  The last you knew it was Day 11...you poor things!  You must've worried so about days 12 through 23.  Well, here you go.  A nice warm bowl of FitPhotos to start your day!

Day 12: Sweat! And boy, did I!  All the way through Plyometric Cardio Circuit, and all over my brand spankin' new Beachbody tshirt.  Decide, Commit, Succeed.  My mantra!



Day 13: Inspired By

Day 13: Inspired By.  I am inspired by Chalene Johnson, over and over and over again.  The woman is a teeny tiny powerhouse in all facets of life.  If you follow me at all, you are already aware of my extreme fitness crush on Chalene. She's strong, not skinny. She's motivating, not annoying. She's relentless, not obnoxious. Plus the woman has an incredible shoe collection.



Day 14: YUM!

Day 14: Yum! Shakeology.  Plain and simple.  I love the flavor, I love the way it makes my body feel, I love its convenience and versatility.  You should buy it.  Today.

Day 15: Got Muscle?

Day 15: Got Muscle?  Shit yeah, I do!  This is my "before" pic for the Let's Go Crazy! Insanity Challenge Group.  I am expecting bigger and better guns in the coming weeks, so be prepared for intense bragging and posturing.

Day 16: Love This Workout.  Did I really need to tell you?  I don't think so...


Day 16: Love This Workout



Day 17: On My Way

Day 17:  On My Way...Dug out an old "before" pic just for comparison's sake.  This was taken on  1/17 of this year. I don't even need to look at a present photo to know that I am indeed ON MY WAY. I could check the clothes I'm wearing - all smaller sizes. Or the donation bag I just tossed those pants in two days ago. Or the garbage can that sports bra went into a week ago. But like I said, no need. I know I am ON MY WAY.

Day 18: Fitness Friend. My fitness friend is the Hubster. He is my cheerleader and partner during training and events and my caretaker after. His support has given me the foundation and the room to come this far...and will push me to new levels in the future.

Day 19: My Reward.  MEDALS! RECOGNITION! BRAGGING RIGHTS! All good stuff.



Day 19: My Reward

Day 20: My Gym (for now)...I still have great visions of my garage-turned-gym-haven, but until then...this is where the magic happens.

Day 21: Abs.  They fluctuate, sure, but they're still miles better than this time last year.  Or even earlier this year...(Refer to Day 17)

Day 22:  Breakfast.  Another Shakeology shout-out.  My breakfast is the same 99% of the time - Shakeology and black coffee.  Suprisingly, I am totally cool with that.



Day 23: No Longer Need.  I have progressed beyond the five pounders and shrunken below the mediums.  And who needs a scale when you've got new clothes to prove your smaller, fitter size?  Gimme a tape measure and a bikini over a scale any day!  (Ironically, I actually weigh more now than I did at the start of this challenge, but I am smaller.  Must be all those new muscles.)

So there you have it!  Only a week left to go.  Wanna know what challenge I've got lined up for next month?  Go to my SweatItOut fan page on Facebook and find out!  Join us, even!  Because you too can be awesome.