Yesterday You Said Tomorrow

"Tomorrow is another day." - Scarlett O'Hara

"The sun'll come out tomorrow." - Annie

“Tomorrow you promise yourself will be different, yet tomorrow is too often a repetition of today.” 
- James T. McCay

Tomorrow.  I hear that word so frequently it's nearly lost all meaning.  When I actually use it, it's a word full of anticipation.  Here are a few examples:

Tomorrow, I am expecting copies of my book to arrive.
Tomorrow, my order of Brazil Butt Lift will be one day closer.
Tomorrow, I have a long run scheduled outside.

See how fabulous tomorrow can be - if you're actually going to utilize the day?  Too often, people use tomorrow as an excuse to make today lackluster.  As though promising a workout tomorrow makes them healthier today.  Guess what?  It doesn't work that way.  The results that you're looking for only actual occur if you DO THE WORK. 

And yes, I get that it's not all fun and games in the beginning.  The beginning is HARD.  The beginning is TOUGH.  It's all about the front of the mullet - business.  But if you wanna get that party in the back, ya gotta work through it.  And trust me - there is a party in the back.  And it's fun, and it's filled with fantabulously gorgeous people, and it's where all the cool kids are hanging out - and living longer, fuller lives.  Because, seriously - you can't live your life to the fullest if you're dragging around even 20 extra pounds.  You can't live life to the fullest if you're thin but have no strength.  When walking up the stairs is enough to take your breath away, that's not the best you can do.  If you're tired after carting the groceries in from the car, that's not the best you can do.  It's the bare minimum, and you'll get far fewer years out of the bare minimum. 

Hard truth: if you're inactive and scarfing grease-covered potatoes, you are doing yourself and your body an injustice.  This isn't about being thin or looking a certain way.  This is about your HEALTH.  I don't care if you're skinny or if you're fat - if you're not taking care of your body, you're at risk for a whole list of nasty, icky stuff.  And if you're a parent - shame on you.  What do you want for your kids?  Would you hand your child a cigarette?  Alcohol?  Poison?  Then WHY for the love all that is holy would you stuff 'em full of chemicals, dyes, and hormones???? 

And before you roll your eyes and call me a "health nut"...I get the need for treats.  I get the need for a day off now and again.  It's all about moderation, but come on.  Moderation does not mean eating something unhealthful on a daily basis.  It's not having a side salad followed by fried chicken and gravy.  It's about recognizing how much good stuff is required to outweigh the bad stuff.  It's more than you want to deal with, I'm sure...but too freakin' bad.

Now, let's have a fun truth: If you start today and keep at it for just three weeks, it becomes a habit.  Stick with it another three weeks, and it becomes a lifestyle.  You stop exercising because you have to and start sweatin' because you want to.  You stop craving chocolate and start craving vegetables.  You stop being tired and start feeling energetic.  You will participate in life in ways you never contemplated or even realized you weren't participating before.  That's right about the time you send me a message on Facebook, or email me, or text me - and say "Hey, thanks! I am kicking ass like nobody's business! You were right about all that healthy shit!"  And I humbly give you all the credit (because it was YOU who did the work, after all) and tell you to KEEP GOING. 

Because even if you've taken care of today, tomorrow is still all like "What about me ova heah?"  (Tomorrow has a New York accent, just in case you were wondering.)

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.

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?

Pay It Forward

My upline coach sent me this nifty little bracelet she received at the Beachbody Coach Summit in Vegas.  Bright orange with equally bright blue letters that spell out "Commit to pay it forward."  It was sent to me because she was proud of me for bringing on another coach and taking that next step towards Emerald. 

And yes, from the outside, I can see how that may all sound a tad cheesy or silly.  But from where this ever-fitter gal sits, that sounds like goals accomplished and a bright shiny future.  And paying it forward is why I started coaching in the first place.  I found my passion - sharing a love of fitness and the knowledge that each one of us can do positively incredible things when we decide and commit. 

Not much more than two years ago, I was in a rut.  A smelly, unattractive, gluttonous rut.  I smoked close to two packs a day.  My food was generally breaded, fried, or smothered in gravy or icing.  Chances that I actually prepared my food were on the very low side.  I climbed the stairs and felt winded.  I watched the kids play while I puffed my PFunks and pondered where we would order from that night.  Our shelves were fully stocked with PopTarts, multi-colored cereals, and boxes of neon macaroni-and-cheese.  Okay - I've gotta stop now, because I wanna vomit.

My third pregnancy took care of the smoking, just as each pregnancy had done before.  I desperately wanted to remain a quitter this time - and I did.  I credit that late-night informercial moment when I first laid eyes on Chalene and TurboFire. 

That singular program was exactly what I needed.  Not only was it fun, not only did I find myself looking forward to that hour every day...It pushed me to fitness levels I never thought I'd reach.  Which in turn made me wonder what MORE I could do.  So when my niece challenged me to run a half marathon with her, despite not being a runner...I said yes.  And for the first time, I began training specifically for an event.  This lit a fire under me and was that fire ever HOT!

I started looking at my nutrition; I began signing up for other events.  I tried new and harder Beachbody programs.  I felt a confidence I had not felt...well, perhaps ever.  I took the plunge and purchased my coaching kit.  And whether you believe me or not, I did it more to pay that feeling forward than to line my wallet. 

What I did not expect was the immediate welcoming of the Beachbody community.  But these people are encouraging and happy and also on a path to share a passion for fitness.  They have had the same successes and the same epiphanies.  So my story is not unique here, which makes me love my new job even more.

But of course I want to be a successful coach.  I also have confidence that I WILL be a successful coach.  I decided to do it and I am committed to doing it...so I will succeed in doing it.  Two ways to further that goal?  Push my workouts harder and up my nutrition even more. 

Do you see the cycle?  Do you see how true fitness can affect every other part of your life?  I mean, seriously...look at me now.  Smoke free.  Down three sizes.  Cooking my own freakin' applesauce.  I shit you not.  I made my own applesauce.  And my own energy bars.  And a seriously fabulous Mexican lasagna.  All vegetarian, all made in my kitchen.  Know what else I did today?  Insanity Pure Cardio.  I killed that sucker.  And if I wanted to, I could take those stairs two at a time and not feel a thing. 

A dear friend from college thanked me today and left this quote on my Facebook profile:
"When the student is ready, the right teacher will appear. -" anonymous. She meant me.  And she's not the first, nor do I believe she is the last.  I am doing what I set out to do - spread the word.  Think of me as an evangelical fitness enthusiast.  The best part?  I am just as proud of her accomplishments as I am of my own.  I know how hard she's worked and I've seen how far she's come.  I feel lucky that she is making me a part of that. 

So life is good.  I've got some big dreams and bigger ideas to bring to fruition.  But they all stem from that commitment to paying it forward.  Some things just don't change.

Loading My Plate

This is what's on my plate (almost literally) for the weekend:

Insanity workouts.
Vegetarian shopping (with added chicken and fish for Hubby and the babe).
Closet organization (which has little to do with my FitLife, but is quite high on my priority list right now).
Date with the Werewolf (at the very top of the list).

So, yes...some of these are obvious pieces to my FitLife journey, others maybe not so obvious.  I'm guessing I don't need to explain Insanity whatsoever.  But I'm also guessing a few of you may be curious as to how exactly that is going.  Um...AWESOME.  (In my head, I hear an old cheer we used to use: "A-W-E! S-O-M-E! Awesome! Awesome! Awesome, are WE!" Good.  Now you hear it too.)  I didn't take an extra break until I hit minute 34, and it was because my shoulders gave out, not my lungs.  Upper body has always been my toughest area to tackle, but I'm soldiering right through.  Next week, the goal is 35 minutes.  It WILL happen.

And I promised I would explain further my wading in the vegetarian pool.  I've been wrestling with it on an emotional level for quite some time, but what finally tipped the scales was a picture that caught my eye on Pinterest.  It caught my eye because it was a photo of my favorite, dreamiest Beatle, Sir Paul.  And the quote got me.  So, enough with the meat.  I have gone this route before, but fell off the meatless wagon.  Something tells me this time, it'll stick.  I'd bet my boots the support this time around will be a thousandfold of what existed before.  So thanks in advance to my meatless pals. 

Closet organization really does fit in, I swear!  My mind is clearer when my spaces are uncluttered.  The closet is the first in a long line of "re-do's" around the M&M Estate.  Partially because I simply am done with the every-morning frustration of sorting through clothing to find something that fits (this time, because it's all gotten too big! Woot!).  Partially because I tend to do my workouts earlier in the day when I don my sports bras and shorts first thing, which in turn leads to a generally more productive day.  See?  Told you there was logic and connection.  You really ought to believe me when I say stuff.

The date with the Werewolf? you ask.  Where does that fit?  It's good for Mama's mental health, for one.  There is no one else on the planet that can make me laugh like that boy can, nor is there an easier-goin' creature in this household.  He is an easy person to be around, and I have come to appreciate easy people.  And for two, he's shopping with me to gather those vegetarian foodstuffs.  I always view grocery trips with kiddos as lessons in nutrition and money.  So we'll have some good convo on both topics and he will (I hope) come away with a greater understanding of our shifting diet and how to best budget our cash flow at Wegmans.

That's what's on my plate today.  What are you filling yours with?

Who Needs a Door, Anyway?

Are you prepared for a little honesty?  Because I am about to drop a BOMB on you folks.

I am human.  I know, right? Pick your jaw up off that floor though and listen. Because here comes another bomb: I eat junk food, too.

There, it's out, I said it! I'm gonna be totally straight with you.  Those Hershey bars I bought so we could make s'mores?  Gone.  Every.  Last.  One.  Did we make s'mores?  No.  Which means between now and replenishing the supply, I must once again gain control over Midnight Miller, Raider of the Freezer and Pillager of the Snack Basket.  I have no true excuse.  Yes, my appetite is in overdrive with Insanity, but we have plenty of healthy options in the house.  Matter of fact, pretty much every other option in the house is healthy.  I just chose to zero in on the ONE thing I should not be chowing down on. 

Now, a friend recently asked me to blog about what I eat and where my recipes come from.  So there's my admission of chocolate above (damn you, Milton Hershey!).  But a typical day would look more like this:

Breakfast: Shakeology (today was Tropical Strawberry, almond milk, frozen blackberries and frozen mango) and black coffee.  (I really did attempt to leave coffee behind and replace it solely with green tea. I've accepted that I am just not gonna do that long term.)

Snack: Clif/Luna/P90X bars...My current favorites are Clif Peanut Butter Crunch and Luna Chocolate Peppermint Stick and Coconut Something-or-other.  They are easy, they pack a protein punch, and they taste good.  That's my kinda food, right there.  Also, I usually add in a piece of fruit for extra sweetness.

Lunch: leftovers or a hodgepodge salad comprised of various leftovers.  Typically, Hubby will grill all chicken and steak at the beginning of the week so that during the week, we have only to dump it onto a plate or into a salad and presto! Meals take five minutes to make.  That's my kinda cookin', right there.  My goal is to include as many colors as I can with the veggies on hand, plus eggs, meat, or feta for some protein.  Dressing is typically a balsamic vinaigrette or a classic italian.  We have done away with the "light" or "lowfat" dressings because they're just silly and full of stuff we don't want.

Snack: fresh fruits and either nuts, cottage cheese, or yogurt.  This is likely to change in the near future, as is much of the diet listed above.  For various reasons that I'll lay out in another blog, I am heading the vegetarian route and will go back to much less dairy (my body just felt better when I wasn't sucking down milk, yogurt, and cheese at every meal).  But the fruits will stay!  

Dinner: white meat (chicken, fish, or pork) most days; steak once a week or less.  Nearly always with fresh or frozen veggies and a bowl of fruit on the table to pick from. 

What do I drink besides Shakeology and coffee?  Water.  The occasional soda when we're out to eat, although this is less and less common.  We don't keep soda or sugary drinks in the fridge, and I'm not much of a beer drinker, though Hubby keeps that stocked for his own sanity.  In the past, I was a huge milk drinker, but I gradually lessened my intake and, as previously mentioned, feel better for it. 

As for my recipes, I get them everywhere.  Jillian Michaels' Making The Cut has incredible meals all laid out, every one of them tasty.  I am a Pinterest addict and an avid collector of any and all women's fitness magazines.  I pick and choose, but will every now and then follow a specific meal plan, as I just did for Insanity.  Turns out, I am sick of meat, and that plan calls for quite a bit of it.  So this Friday, my first errand is mapped out to Barnes&Noble to pick up a copy of The Eat Clean Diet Vegetarian Cookbook by Tosca Reno.  I see this as the next step in my fitness and food journey.  Stay posted to see how I do with this one...

Coincidentally, our refrigerator door FELL OFF this morning.  So we will be chowing down on all things fresh today.  It's rigged to hang in there, but we don't know for how long.  I joked on Facebook that we may as well remove the shelving and dive in face first...after my workout, I just may do that.  Insanity makes Mama one hungry bear.

If you really want to see what I eat and how I work out every single day, my profile on myfitnesspal.com is totally public.  Find me and friend me (Miller343).  Having more eyes gives me more motivation to practice what I yell, scream, and preach. 

For now, though, I must go.  It is time for pinning and coffee.

I Feel Like I'm Taking Crazy Pills!

I believe we've covered this already, but I suppose it bears repeating.

STOP WITH THE CRAZY PILLS.

And stop with anything that says, "You don't even have to exercise! Eat anything you desire!"  I am only telling you this because I care about you.  True story.

You don't have to buy any of my outstanding Beachbody products to get in shape (although they sure do make it clear cut and simple).  You don't have to visit a nutritionist or a trainer.  The information is all out there, in magazines, on the web, in books.  Eat right.  Exercise.  That's it.  The information doesn't change - no matter how badly you may want it to.  Fit takes effort.  Healthy takes commitment.  You're either willing...or you're not.

I do try to be understanding about these things.  I was once in your shoes.  Desperate for a change and demanding it be quick.  I also used to dream of having my very own unicorn and marrying Jordan Knight.  We have fantasy and we have reality.  A lot of the time, they don't mesh.  You can choose to cry into your triple-thick shake or salt your fries with your tears...or you can buck the hell up and actually DO something about your situation.  Something long-term with lasting results.

You know why I signed on as a Beachbody coach in the first place?  Get ready, because it's all shmaltz.  The programs I used CHANGED MY LIFE.  There was no pandering, no "girly" workout toned down to make it more marketable.  Its marketability was the toughness.  And for the first time in my love/hate relationship with fitness, I was truly challenged and I LOVED it.  So I became a coach, because I believe that strongly in the programs and the products.  And I wanted to help others reach the level of fitness I am still striving for. 

You won't ever find me wandering the "diet aids" aisle in the pharmacy again.  You won't see SlimFast in my refrigerator.  If you want to locate me, look in my living room, where I'm currently training harder than I ever have.  Look on the backroads near my home, where I run faster than I ever have.  Look in the organic and produce aisles, where I shop smarter than I ever have.  Or look for me next to my kids on the playground, at the pool, on the hiking trails...instead of sitting off to the side, puffing away on a smoke.  If this overweight, chainsmoking, fast-food grubbing gal can turn herself into a lean, mean, vegetable-eating machine...EVERYONE CAN. 

You think you have an excuse?  I'd love to hear it.  Message me via my fan page on Facebook (also SweatItOut - link to your right).  Let's chat.  I can't promise I'll respond the way you want me to, but I can promise I'll respond the way you need me to.

Independence Day



Independence from weakness

Take a moment and think about it: independence.  What, exactly, does that mean to you? 

As it coincides with my fitness journey, this is what it means to me.

Independence from nicotine.  It's been over two years since I laid the PFunks down.  My lungs are thankful, my teeth and throat are thankful, and my family is thankful.  If you are a smoker, let this be your day to declare independence from the pack.

Independence from fast food.  I can't remember the last time I ate anything from the Golden Arches, the King, or that little red-headed slut.  I don't crave it; the thought of it makes me want to hurl.  I no longer sacrifice my nutrition for the sake of convenience.  Just recently, Chic-Fil-A went through the exit door as well.  My goal now?  Never again will I purchase food from a window.

Independence from wishing.  Wishing for health and smaller pants never got me very far.  Turns out, working for my goals not only got me there, but got me dreaming and achieving bigger and better.  I found I can accomplish more on a daily basis than I ever dreamed, or wished, I could.



Independence from negativity

Independence from weakness.  Every day, I make my body stronger.  I work harder, I eat cleaner.  The very rewarding byproduct of this?  Every day, I make my mind and my soul stronger, too.  The more I discover what my body is capable of, the more I realize what I am capable of in my life.  This journey has led me far past the physical. 

Independence from negativity.  I no longer devote my time to the haters, the naysayers, the two-faced gossips.  They are no longer my concern.  I will not waste my energy on those so devoted to building themselves up by tearing others down.  I am far too busy climbing to the top and bringing as many people as I can along with me.  I tend to feel happier and more content when I am helping others to feel the same.  No more exclusive clubs; in this case, independence equals inclusion.



Independence from "can't"

Independence from "can't."  I banished that word from my vocabulary and my house.  In this house, there is no such thing as "can't."  Instead, there are goals and steps to reach them.  A year ago, I was beginning training for my first half marathon.  Running is hard work and there were definite "can't" moments in my head.  I may not be able to pinpoint the exact moment that changed, but I went from training for that race to running a full marathon this year.  Excuses no longer mean anything to me, so don't try to offer them up.  I have an argument or a solution for every "can't" you give me.

There you have it.  My Fourth of July Independence Day diatribe, written in my post-Insanity endorphin high.  So now, tell me - what does independence mean to 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.

Three Little Words

When I first began shedding the baby weight, the questions started.  "How did you do it?" "Wow! What are you doing?"  Everyone and their sister wanted to know my "secret."  And were sorely disappointed when my answer was simply "TurboFire."  Because that wasn't easy.  It meant they would actually have to put effort in to get results.  When I told them my ancient exercise secret, most were honest.  "Oh.  I was hoping for a magic pill of some sort."  Seriously.  That, dear Readers, is a direct quote and a serious reply.  Arrrrggghhh!  It makes me just...well...CRAZY.


My response to "diet aids"

Partially because (cross my heart and hope to die, stick a needle in my eye if I'm lyin') I would continue to work out even if I had Giselle's genetics.  (I'd still like them, so if she's willing to hand 'em over, I get first dibs.)  I love the rush of a good workout, the feeling of accomplishment and hard work that only comes after I've given that session every drop of energy I've got.  I love the strength and the power I attain from training and the way it makes me feel like an athlete for that one to two hours every day.  I wouldn't trade it.  And am continually baffled by those who find it more rewarding to sit on the couch with reality tv and a plate of the latest sugary Pinterest recipe.  You don't have 60 minutes to devote to a better mood and better health????  Shutchermouth.  (No, really.  Shut it before that cookie gets in there.)

It also makes me CRAZY because people are still looking for that "magic pill."  They're like Ponce de Leon searching for that fountain of youth and beauty - which, by the way, is EXERCISE.  You want to look younger, stronger, leaner?  Sweat.  There's your pill.  Problem is, you just don't wanna swallow it.  I don't care if the label reads "all natural." Bottom line: it doesn't work.  Often the main ingredients are caffeine and green tea.  Drink 'em.  Much cheaper, same benefits. 

They don't even SPELL correctly!

 I am amazed at the effort and money spent on products that claim you don't need to exercise or eat healthfully.  The time it takes you to drive to the store?  Walk around the block.  That money you just squandered on thinly veiled placebo?  You could have ordered Shakeology.

(Another reason to love Beachbody?  No empty promises or extra hype to make something more than it really is.  The programs work if you do them.  Shakeology is a supplement, not a cure all.)

Psst...wanna buy a pill?

Suddenly, it seems everywhere I turn I hear or see the Obesity Epidemic.  And I feel angered and saddened, especially when I see clearly overweight children with ice cream or bags of chips.  If you saw a malnourished child, thin and frail and weak...you'd be angry too.  You'd want to admonish or report that parent.  Overweight children are malnourished as well.  They will grow to be weak, out of breath, with poor heart function.  Just like their adult counterparts.  It's a cycle, and our kids learn from us.  As parents, you love your children.  What do you want for them?

Let's all say it together: "Decide.  Commit.  Succeed."  Three little words.  Big results.  No magic, no pill.  You need willpower, effort, and sweat.  If I can do it, I know you can do it.  I know because I was lazy.  I was a chainsmoker, a junk food junkie, and a couch potato.  There was a time I couldn't even jog a slow mile.  Go ahead, ask me how I got from there to here.  I'd love to tell you.

If you're buying a diet pill, may I also interest you in this fat-reducing bridge?

Keepin' It Local

Ah, summertime!  Sunshine, swimming, outdoor workouts...and fresh roadside produce!  I love that I can drive a mere ten minutes to do such a big portion of our grocery shopping instead of my typical half an hour.  This is one time of year when it pays to live in rural Pennsylvania.

I was tremendously excited at the prospect of a new market on the market - even closer than the one I typically frequent.  So the Bear and I hopped into the van and scooted over - to find merchandise and extremely minimal produce.  We were sorely disappointed but not about to abandon our cravings for fresh and local.  Off to Jersey!  (And that's not something we often say with enthusiasm around these parts.)

But Marshall's Farm Market is reason for excitement!  They have a beautiful little setup and incredibly tasty and bountiful selections to satisfy those wanting to shop out of doors.  We found piles of juicy red tomatoes; bushels of multi-colored apples; bags of plump cherries; baskets of ripe blueberries, raspberries, blackberries, and strawberries.  Hello, heaven!  Everything is reasonably priced, organized, clean, and incredibly fresh.  Not a mushy apple or tomato to be found.  There was no searching for an unbruised piece of fruit or a not-overly-ripe vegetable.  All we had to do was reach out our hands and grab.  Perfection.

Aside from the fantastic produce selection, they also sell various homemade items (we plan on returning special for those and will report upon tasting).  The Bear snagged an enormous pickle during our checkout and I have got to say, after sampling one teeny and one Jaws-size bite, that's the best freakin' pickle I have ever tasted.  Including PA Renaissance Faire pickles.  (I am an expert in all things on-a-stick.  Trust me on this.) 

To top off our very pleasurable outdoor shopping experience, the customer service was outstanding.  Smiles, pleasant exchanges, even a chuckle.  Which is nice after so many vacant stares in checkout lines or overheard conversations of breaktimes and leave times (always anxiously looked forward to as each cashier is always overwhelmed with the idiots in their lines...Ummm...hello?).  Side note: I have always had impeccable customer service at Wegmans as well.  That is my indoor food shopping heaven. 

So please!  Keep this stand profitable!  I do so want it to always be there, so close and so fabulous.  Meet us there this fall for the awesome Halloween setup (which includes free cider doughnuts and warm cider with the hayride *eyesrollingbackinheadwithecstasy*).  Or meet us there next weekend for more produce browsing and buying! 

Plus - now I'm even more ready for my run outside!  That sunshine is addicting and my day started off with plenty of Fit-Life-livin' moments: Hubby mixed up our Shakeology this morning (delectable as always!); did 200 squats to challenge my KickOffSummer Challengers; shopped the local produce stand and came away with good eats.  Look out, folks!  This chick is on a roll!

http://www.marshallsfarmmarket.net/

The Big Piece of the Pie

Two of the four in one big ass sammich

I like food.  I like food ALOT.  I have never been a girl to say, "Oh, I forgot to eat" or "I just didn't have time to eat today."  Because in my world, that cannot happen.  Hubby and the monkeys will attest to the fact that Hungry Mommy is the siamese twin of Cranky Mommy (aka SpongeMom Angrypants).  And not so long ago, I ate what I craved.  And what I craved typically involved the four food groups: bacon, peanut butter, chocolate, and/or cheese.  My best meals combined these four pillars of nutrition in myriad ways, one of the all-time favorites being PB&B sandwiches (peanut butter & bacon, of course).  So why, then, was I so totally mystified that working out was not giving me all the muscle definition I so desired?  I was one of THEM.  One of those who wants so badly for something to be true that I simply decide it is true and continue about my business. 

What changed?  I can't pinpoint the exact WHY or WHEN of the changing, but recently (within the past few months) something just clicked.  Like the Gods of Nutrition flipped the switch in my brain from "Junkie" to "Health Nut."  Suddenly, eating properly and fueling my body instead of gorging and putting my body to sleep seemed, well...easy.  Or at least, relatively so.

Fish with Flava - ala Shaun T

Because I do nosh from time to time.  I slip.  I chow.  I nibble at the cheese plate.  But this is what I find: even when I fall off the wagon, I don't fall far.  That nibble sates me and I'm back to clean eating.  Or what I prefer to call (mostly) clean eating.  Because I am, in fact, human.  I sometimes enjoy a splurge in the calories...It's just that it is no longer a daily occurrence.  The results I want, the body I want...It isn't going to just arrive in the mail with my next Beachbody purchase.  I have to work just as hard at fueling it as I do training it.

And that's the other motivator - the training.  All that time and effort I'm expending is pretty precious to me.  Why trash it all with a poor fueling system?  Because that's really what food is for - fueling our bodies.  It's enjoyable fuel, but fuel nonetheless.  Nutella is not going to power my marathon training (yep, I'm scheduling the next already).  Taco pizza will not give me that extra edge to push through my Spartan Race.  I choose instead a diet of Shakeology, fresh veggies and fruits, and lean meats.  I drink water like it's...well, water.  I am eliminating soda and refined sugars.  I am gradually going organic and gluten free.  When I shop, I shop the perimeters of the grocery store because that's where they keep the good stuff. 

Healthy cranberry scones

And that word I just used..."diet."  I typically dislike that word.  I do not approve of the connotations that it carries, the ideas of restriction and temporariness.  Because eating correctly is not about restriction and it should never be temporary.  This is a lifestyle - and a rewarding one at that.  I feel better, I look better...In fact, I look better now than I did in my teens and 20's (I just have more laugh lines, but laughter suits me).  I am fitter than I have ever been and I just keep getting better.  My awesomeness levels are higher every day...I simply cannot help myself.  Which means, you know...you can do the same thing.  You can actually DO IT instead of just TALKING ABOUT DOING IT. 

As a parent, I feel it's my job to show by example.  Unfortunately, they've had seven or so years of bacon lust as an example, so we're learning together.  They are surprisingly receptive to fresh fruit, learning to accept the vegetables, and thoroughly enjoying the lean meats.  Treats are treats and they are not every day.  We don't keep soda or sugar drinks in our house and even school snacks have gone organic (we made the switch from Oreos to Newman-Oh's and Goldfish to Cheddar Bunnies without a single complaint).  So again, it's doable.  There's no excuse of "my kids just won't eat that."  When ours do whine about yet another healthy dinner (and it happens because they're KIDS), I allow that they can choose dinner entrees, too...when they get a job, do the shopping, and learn to cook.  Until then, we eat what I cook (or, to be honest, what Hubby cooks.  And he cooks what I plan and buy). 

My daily breakfast

My whole point today is this: if I can put down the Thin Mints, the Diet Cokes, and the Funyuns...anyone can.  It's less about willpower and more about a singular decision: do you want to continue wishing for health and fitness, or do you actually want to have it?