Let’s go back to the beginning…

In November of 2007, the day after this photo was taken, I discovered I was pregnant with my daughter. I was 25 years old, weighed 113lbs, had just celebrated the first year in a new little house with my (then) boyfriend, and certainly wasn’t planning on starting a family quite yet. We were having fun partying…and being extremely unhealthy. Back then I smoked a pack and a half a day, could eat any man under the table, and thought exercise was riding my bike the few blocks from Sherman Hill to downtown and back. I did it to save money and because it was fun, I certainly wasn’t doing it for the health benefits. I had never really thought about my weight much, I had always been naturally thin, sometimes even getting flack from others due to it, so when I got pregnant I didn’t think twice about eating like I always had. In fact, I gave myself even more lenience on what I was eating because I was “eating for two” and fell back on “cravings” as an excuse to eat whatever sounded good. I ended up reaching 170lbs before my daughters birth in July of 2008.

This is me in March of 2009. It is probably the worst, most unflattering, unattractive photo of myself I have ever seen. I hate it. If you hadn’t noticed already by my face, I was very unhappy. And I certainly wasn’t helping my cause by wearing Caleb’s white boxer briefs to check-in…seriously Nicole?!? Wth?! Ugh. Regardless, and in light of keeping it real, that is me: 139lbs, 29.5% body fat, and lost. For someone who never had weight issues, never thought or cared about her weight or food in general, this was difficult to face and deal with…especially with a new little life and new hormones to care for. So it was the beginning of my husband and I’s fitness journey. This was my Farrell’s Extreme Bodyshaping 10-week “before” picture.

This is my sheet which recorded my measurements and scorings in all the first week, 5-week, and final 10-week testings. When I looked at this Sunday, I laughed (and wanted to cry) at my numbers, not only my body fat percentage but also my push-ups and sit-ups. I can’t believe how weak and out of shape I was. And I also can’t believe what 139lbs looks like when you are at 29.5% body fat. Wow.

This was my “after”. I remember how pretty I felt, how proud I was, and how refreshed and excited I was to look at my final results. 134lbs, and down to 25.9% body fat. I had also improved my testing numbers with leaps and bounds, shaving 4 minutes off of my mile time. The proof was in the numbers, not just the smile on my face in the “after” shots.

But I knew my journey wasn’t over. I knew I still had more work to do. That number: 113…it haunted me. My ripped up AE jeans in the closet that I used to wear nearly everyday were impossible to even get around my thighs…but I kept them (still have them) and used them as motivation. I stuck with the Farrell’s FIT follow-up program for a year, until I realized I needed more, I needed change, and I wanted a new challenge. Caleb had begun running and already completed a few races, he joined a local Triathlon club and we decided to do it as a family membership. I began doing short races, sprint-tri’s and even signed up for my first Olympic distance triathlon only to have it cut short race day due to terrible weather conditions. Again, I was feeling lost, burnt out, and disappointed by results in my training. I turned to running longer distances/races, got addicted to Cardio Kick (a fast paced cardio kickboxing class), and other tabata/crossfit/strength style classes at my local gym. I got stronger, I leaned out a little here and there, but I wanted and needed more. So I began my figure training journey.

This is me in October of 2012 weighing in at 143.2lbs with a body fat of 17.7%. Isn’t it crazy that I actually weighed MORE here than I did in my Farrell’s “after” picture (134lbs with 25.9% body fat) because I clearly have more muscle but I look much leaner?! Whoa. Just…whoa. I’m pretty sure I just shared a HUGE “aha!” moment with you all…this, right here, is proof that the scale is a lying whore 😉 Seriously. I hate it. Now I want to look at all my “before” and “after” pictures together, side-by-side, with some numbers to take in.

It’s shocking to have it laid out like that with all the numbers and percentages…the hard facts…the images of my body through all it’s changes; struggles, successes…work. I’m not sure if I’m proud or ashamed. Perhaps a combination of both. Either way, I know I’ve proven to you: I am real, I am flawed, I am imperfect and weak…but I am also strong, determined, and capable…just like you 😉 If you look at each of these versions of me, it could easily represent any of YOU out there reading this: a new mommy trying to work off the baby weight, someone who is “skinny fat”  (at a good weight but wanting more muscle and better health), or someone who is muscular but with excess body fat to lose. This should also prove that whether you weigh 113lbs or 152lbs…that number is nothing when compared to your body fat percentage and muscle mass. I’m curious what my body fat would have been at 113lbs, I guarantee it was at least 20, regardless of how thin I appeared.

So that is my journey, and it continues on. I’m just under 5 weeks from my second figure competition. I’m still working to find my happy, healthy me. I struggle, I fall, I fail, and then I pick myself up, dust myself off, and set more goals to reach, empowering myself with each little milestone along the way, and finding success in new found pride and strength. My current goal is this competition, but after that I will take a break to “bulk”, treat myself reasonably, PR in a few short distance races and triathlons, and then it’s back to figure training for a better version of me in a 2014 competition. More muscle, better structure, less body fat…and a stronger body and mind.

If I can do it, so can you. Here is your proof. Always forward ❤

F-Ab-ulous Ab Friday Volume 8

5 weeks out tomorrow! I have one of my last “official” check-ins tomorrow morning, I’ll hand in my registration at that time, then we have a team posing practice that afternoon, just booked my tanning appointment this week,  and my suit should be here next Monday or Tuesday…shit isn’t GETTING real, it flat out IS real! I am in this. There is no turning back at this point. In 5 weeks I will be on stage, standing among a group of hard working, strong, beautiful girls competing for a place in the top 5 of a figure competition. There will be no excuses, no hiding my weaknesses, and all of my work or lack there of will be on display to be critiqued, judged, and rated. *gulp

The past month of tummy progress has been slow going, there are tiny changes, but nothing significant. The tummy is always the last to go and it’s frustrating. Meanwhile, my girls have become little squeeky versions of themselves…by this I mean when I talk to them I’m suddenly speaking in a cutesy high pitched voice…they’re little but they’re cute and they’re mine so I like to encourage them along 😉 My thighs are no longer touching and are beginning to show more definition, my back and hips slimming out as well.

This is one of the skirts I bought last August when I first started my new job. It fit like a glove, but by late fall it was bursting at the seams and so uncomfortable to wear, the last time I wore it to work I had to unzip it in the back…and it’s been hanging in my closet ever since. Today, I had to put a little belt around the top hemline just to cinch it a bit because it’s so loose fitting. This makes me happy, and once again takes a little sting out of the fact that my tummy progress is taking so long. Also, there is this:

That’s my first F-Ab-ulous Ab Friday picture compared to today’s and while it isn’t much, I do see a difference. I know it bothers some people that I’ve taken and shared so many photos of my body this training season, but this is exactly why…to not only show myself, but also others going through their own transformation, that while results seem painstakingly slow and non-existent at times…they ARE there, they ARE happening, and we can’t give up. And also because, damnit, I’ve spent so long feeling miserable and insecure, it’s nice to see a GOOD photo of myself happy and fit and healthy! Call me vain, self-absorbed, think I’ve got a big head or that I think I’m super hot, whatever. If you are saying or thinking that, you don’t know me, you don’t deserve to know me, and I don’t want to waste my time on your friendship…because that isn’t friendship to me.

I can’t stress enough how lonely this process can be, even when you have so many amazingly loving and supportive people cheering you on along the way as I do, because for every positive person lifting you up, there are two trying to knock or drag you down. Whether it’s by encouraging you to cheat on your nutrition plan, criticizing you for the time you invest in training, or flat out telling you you aren’t attractive because of the shape your body has taken…people are going to try to tarnish your shine. I’ve had women make jabs at me as a mother for spending so much time in the gym rather than with my daughter, men tell me my body isn’t attractive or feminine, co-workers waving plates of food in my face, and numerous people ask why I would put myself through this as if it’s ridiculous. Suddenly everyone has an opinion (much like when I was pregnant), and it isn’t always a positive or supportive one. I’ve also discovered you can’t be too enthusiastic or proud about your own successes, no matter how carefully or tastefully you try to do it, because someone is always going to take you for a braggy, boastful bitch; more commonly women. If you do too well, some don’t like that and would rather hear that you had a bad day or didn’t reach your goal than to hear you did well. It hurts and makes me so sad and frustrated because I just don’t understand why people can’t just be happy for others’ happiness…instead they become jealous, bitter, and nasty. As I’ve said before, if you find yourself wishing I dropped a barbell on my face or fell down a flight of stairs, go ahead and do us both the favor of “unfriending” or steering clear of me, because neither of us needs it. If you don’t like positive, motivated people in your life who want to lift you up and cheer you on as they try to better themselves as well then…frankly I think you need to take a trip on down to Misery Lane and pitch a tent. I won’t be joining you. End of my sensitive sally rant 😉 *yesterday someone said something mean and I’m still bruised, so forgive me*

Any way, 5 more weeks! I’m full of excitement and nerves and happy…I can’t wait to get my nails done (the one time a year I actually do), get all pertified, and spend the day with some really special girls…girls who have been through it, who understand the baggage, and who I admire so much for it all…girls who have busted their asses and who shine and sparkle inside and out ❤ 5 more weeks. Always forward!!!

The Big Boys and goals…

Friday night, after a great Chest/Delts/Tris lift, I was wrapping up my headphones and grabbing my things when one of the “big guys” (a veteran male weight room lifter with much more muscle and experience) came up and asked if I was training for something. We got to talking about my competition, his not training but just loving lifting and doing it for 20+ years and the sport of power lifting when another “big guy” came up and jokingly asked if I was trying to show them up or something. I said “No, I’m just trying to keep up and hopefully lift as heavy as you guys someday!” To which he scoffed that I already am on some stuff and then commented “You’ve really changed a lot in appearance since you first started coming in this fall.” I immediately thought he was talking about my weight since that is what I was most insecure about. So I responded with “Yeah, I’ve really been trying to work on the body fat.” But it surprised me when he corrected me “No, I meant your muscles! You’ve really gotten bigger and stronger looking! You can tell you’ve been working hard!” And while I surprisingly kept my cool, probably blushing a little and thanked him, saying I’ve been trying, etc; inside I was jumping for joy and making that scrunchy-nosed-squeezed-fist-gonna-freak face. This was the compliment of all compliments to me: one of the guys I look up to, who I thought probably looked at me as weak sauce, going out of his way to not only compliment me but to give a genuine compliment on my hard work, not just my appearance. Now don’t get me wrong, hearing I look great is always a surprise and nice to hear, but coming from a man in a sport that is predominantly male and where women are usually seen as just eye candy…it was nice to know I was being seen as an equal, as a hard worker, and being taken seriously. I can hear Aretha singing ‘R-e-s-p-e-c-t’ somewhere in the distance 😉 But seriously, I called my husband once I was in the privacy of my car and told him “I’m pretty sure I was just handed my ‘man card’ and it feels good.”

Earlier in the week I had struggled with feelings of being demeaned in an all male meeting at work: I was interrupted, talked over, brushed aside, and generally treated as if my input, knowledge, or skills were unimportant by a superior. It really crushed me, because I had left a job after 6 years where I was seen as a valuable team member. I had lead and managed two different teams (one which I built from scratch), created a new interactive screenshot reference base for my peers (which I had to teach myself how to build using three different forms of software, as well as some basic HTML coding to complete), was a member of our companies Activity Committee (organizing and budgeting for corporate events) for two years in a row, and voluntarily organized different celebrations (Annual Bosses Day, birthdays, going away parties) for superiors and co-workers throughout my tenure. I loved my boss, he respected me, he valued my opinion and input, and he told me so. Sure, I had to deal with mean customers and work bad hours, but I dealt with that because it paid pretty well, there was always a hefty yearly bonus and most importantly I felt pretty well cared for. I celebrate my first year here in August. And while I am grateful for this job and shouldn’t complain as it’s allowed me much more flexibility in my schedule and a better income…it’s hard as a strong personality to admit when my input isn’t needed and just sit back and do what I’m told. As my husband has said before (teasing me about how whiny I am when I’m sick): I wouldn’t make a good soldier.

So to get this compliment, to be acknowledged by a strong male figure as strong and hardworking myself, was a bit of redemption or repayment to my little ego. After years of wanting to just be one of the boys with the neighbor kids or cousins playing football or riding bikes, my brother and his cool older friends, or even my husband and his buddies at the shooting range or pool table…after stepping in that weight room numerous times and being hovered over, shouldered into, and barked at by assholes…at 30 I finally feel like maybe I’ve made it, maybe I’ve earned that coveted “man card”. Do I still want to feel sexy or pretty, have a door held open for me once in a while, or even the random construction worker whistle as I walk by? Pfft, you’re damn straight I do. But when it really matters, when it comes down to business, I want to be taken seriously and treated like the intelligent, resourceful, hardknock survivor that I am. I may whine when I’m sick and want to be babied a little, I may need help opening a jar or programming a remote once in a while, but when the going gets tough I’m in there ready to get my hands dirty with the rest of them. A hoard of zombies wouldn’t stand an effing chance with this girl. You can bet yer ass on that, and neither will a weight room or boardroom of men. Cause I’ve got this:

Well…and these:

That’s right! In yo face boyz! hahahahahahaha sigh. Sorry, I enjoyed that a little too much 😉

Anyway, this weekend I also got to talking with my husband about our summer, the fun plans we already have lined up, and goals. I need goals, I love goals, goals keep me grounded and focused. We already had plans to do some fun active stuff like Race to Exile, RAGBRAI, some bike races…but who was I kidding?! These were going to be booze and food fueled events. I can’t count on burning anywhere close to the amount of calories I’ll be taking in doing these things and I certainly don’t want to fall back into my hole of last year. So I sat down today using my magic tools of organization and planning (paint, word, excel, google) and came up with some goals…

I want to use the summer not only for fun and a bit of off time from this strict dieting, but also set myself up for success come fall when I get back into competition training. To do those things I can “bulk” by eating a little more (with cheat meals here and there), maintain a regular lifting routine, as well as incorporate training for other things into my SS and HIIT formats. I’ll work to build more muscle (I still want that juicy booty and more defined quads) while also setting some small goals to keep me active and keep things interesting throughout “off season”. My two favorite races are Copper Creek (a sprint triathlon) and the IMT DSM Half Marathon. Both are reasonably distanced races that I could easily work the training for into my schedule. The goal won’t just be to complete them though, I want to beat my times from the previous year (which I have done each year, proudly). I’m also setting a bit of a heftier goal physically by considering doing the HyVee Triathlon…that swim is terrifying, but I think if I just buckle down, and put in the time I can do it. Another fear is a bike race, simply because I’m just not confident on a bike or in a group of such awesome girls…but I want to be, therefore I want to race at least ONE Race Like a Girl as a VeloRosa pink lady 🙂 It seems like a lot when I write it out and really say it hahaha But each of these things is connected and will help build up the other so I feel it’s not only doable but a good way to multi-task training plans! Or so I hope, either way, it will be an adventure to keep me on my toes until fall when I begin focusing again on Nicole 2014 and her competition season. What is my end goal with that? 1st Place. Pro Card.

Always forward ladies ❤

F-Ab-ulous Ab Friday Volume 7

I’m down to 99 grams of carbs a day, about half of which are green veggies. It’s 6 weeks out tomorrow. I’m cranky. I’m ready to eat some pizza, drink a glass of wine, and not be so dang moody.

But again…there is progress, on both the scale and in photos so…we are getting there 😉 I was going to say “this week” but really…it seems like this entire month or so has been extremely tough. I’m uber busy, my carbs are getting cut to the point where I don’t even get my cherished slice of toast in the morning, cardio is gradually getting increased, and even nasty Burger King commercials are looking good. Ugh. This is the part that either makes you or breaks you. This is the part that wears at your determination and willpower. This morning I found myself pointer finger knuckle-deep in a jar of my husbands Biscoff spread…I probably consumed a tablespoon worth, but it was enough for him to notice and for me to feel horribly guilty. Pathetic, I know, but this is the mindset I get into. Then after getting out of the shower and doing my usual posing practice routine in the mirror, I found myself standing in the doorway of our bedroom, looking my husband in the face, saying “I’m not going to be ready. I’m not anywhere near where I was at last year.”

The picture on the left is me 6 weeks out in 2012 from my first competition. I remember taking this picture and sending it to my husband, so proud because I was finally seeing definition in my abs. Mind you, I was standing just the right way to flatter my tummy, but I was seeing progress. The picture on the right is my tummy this morning. I’m not posing or flexing or trying at all to make myself look good. That’s it. Those are my little abs starting to show through, my obliques looking taught and slimmed…that is me, looking as progressed, if not better, than Nicole from 2012. A reality check just bitch slapped all that self doubt and yelled “IN YO FACE!”

Now, this is me just this afternoon fresh from getting re-pertified after some SS cardio at work over my lunch. I’m giddy because as I was walking out I did a quick check and then stopped…

Last time I looked in this mirror I weighed 155lbs. I was bloated, my workout clothes were starting to fit uncomfortably, and I was not smiling at myself…in fact I remember making a “blehk” face, shaking my head, and wondering “What happened?!” The next week I started training again with Ryan and it’s been down hill since…

That peak in the middle is where I was at in November, at 155lbs…in that picture above on the left. All those little dots steadily going down toward the right are my proof of progress…proof of hard work…proof that I’m succeeding in my efforts. I weighed in at 139lbs this morning. That is 16lbs less than when I started.

So I’m going to bookmark this blog post. I’m going to use it as a reminder the next time I want to whine or doubt in the next 6 weeks, or even later if I start to find myself slipping…that hard work pays off, and that it truly produces results.

I also want to take a minute to say to anyone that feels my posts, blogs, pictures, or sharing of accomplishments are vain, braggy, or self-absorbed…you wouldn’t think that if you truly knew me or if you’ve ever knew what it’s like to pull yourself out of a hole and look back down with pride. I hope you get to that point where you want to share a cute picture of your reflection in the mirror because for once you are proud to be seen….smiling. I hope at some point you want to share how many sit ups you did with pride because you blew an old number out of the water! And I hope you never feel shame in those things or that someone never makes you feel bad for them, because you shouldn’t and neither should I. Being proud is not the same as being arrogant. I hope people can learn and recognize the difference.

With that…always forward ❤

Having a right and being right are two different things…

In a world where everyone wants to just be able to relate to someone, to feel a sense of belonging, or perhaps feel justified in their beliefs, actions, or passions it’s easy to fall into the old school age trap of “the clique”. We all remember them, there were the preps, the jocks, the band nerds, the drama geeks, the show choir group, the goths, the skaters…and on and on. Everyone migrated to their own comfort zone of others with the same clothes, hobbies, and even social classes. And unfortunately with this safety of commonality came fear of anything different, anything that challenged those similarities…change and the unknown was scary and judgements began to form. Suddenly what brought so many people together forming great friendships, began to push people apart, distancing these groups from one another, forcing them against each other in a battle of what was “right” or what was “normal”.

After I graduated high school and got older, I thought “whew! We’re adults now, we’re finally past that BS!” and breathed a sigh of relief. But then, as I went through college and various jobs, had a daughter of my own, formed different friendships, picked up different hobbies, and participated in different events or groups along the way…I began to realize, this isn’t just something we do as children, this isn’t something we outgrow…this is something engrained in us, it’s part of our nature. Politics: Are you Democrat, Republican, Independent, Green party?! Religion: Christian, Catholic, Jewish, Hindu, Atheist, Agnostic, Buddhist?! Sports: Are you a runner, a triathlete, a weight lifter, a cyclist, a swimmer?! Hobbies: Do you do music festivals, fundraising events, read books, go to bars, ride bikes, sing in a band?! Parenthood: breast or bottle, stay at home or work full time, junk food or fruits and vegetables, video games and TV or books and educational activities, home or public schooling?! Food: Paleo, vegan, vegetarian, fruitarian, raw/whole foods?! Everyone has their opinions, way of life, beliefs, style, tastes, schedule…everyone is their own person. So why do we feel this need to pigeon hole or segregate ourselves? Why do we feel like we have to impose our opinions and recruit others into believing them? Bumper stickers, memes, billboards, signs, pins, flyers, buses, posters, door knob hangers, missionary work. We are constantly soliciting each others brains to be in line with our own. Listen to me! Agree with me! I’m right! I have the answers! This is how to do it! It’s overwhelming, frustrating, and just seems all wrong.

While I myself do it, we all do…meet someone with the same sense of humor or same love of something…and suddenly we’re filled with this giddiness, we want to be around this person, we want to meet their friends who like the same thing or are the same way, and suddenly we’re all connected in happy, smiley goodness! It’s great! I LOVE it! It’s how every single friendship, connection, or bond in my life has been formed…it’s special and magical and good for my heart. I’ve grown as a person from these relationships, they are part of who I am, they mold me. But there is a dark side to all this, and that’s when we start to attack those outside these warm fuzzies…people who don’t share the same inside joke or affinity for something and turn against them. It’s one thing to laugh to yourself or privately with your friends about something, to dislike someone or some thing. I think it’s safe to say we have all done it. I was just laughing to my husband about the new trend of guys cutting out the arm pits and sides of their tank tops at the gym and walking around with their obliques on display. I don’t get it, I don’t find it attractive, but…I certainly don’t laugh in their faces, make fun of them, or try to impress my dislike of it upon them. That’s what they like, they think it’s cool or comfortable. For all I know they are making fun of my little skort capris! That’s where the line is drawn though: having an opinion and impressing it upon others. Thinking or believing something and finding common ground with someone on it OR feeling the need to push it on other people and make them think or believe the same thing. I can already hear people asking “What about the first amendment?! What about freedom of speech?!” Well what about common decency, consideration of others, and having respect for fellow man? What about tolerance and diversity? You are welcome to your opinion, that is your right, and with that right comes the privilege to share it. However, having a right and being right are two different things. Just because you like something, feel a certain way, or do things in a certain manner doesn’t make them “the right way”, “the way”, or “right”.

Just in the last year or so I’ve come across many articles or memes claiming one sport is superior to all others, or one form of exercise is all wrong. I also still see the same old pictures of female bodies being compared claiming one is more “real” than another; you’re not a real woman unless you have curves, you aren’t a strong woman unless you squat, blah blah blah. People post their comments and end up in these ridiculous angry exchanges and debates and no one walks away with anything except high blood pressure and a skewed view of the world. And for me, it all goes back to those cliques in school where young people who supposedly didn’t know better attacked each other for being different…except now we do know better, or at least we should, yet we’re still doing it.

I wasn’t part of a clique in school. I made friends with people I thought were nice, regardless of who their friends were, where they were from, what activities they were in…if they were nice and we got along well and I thought they were generally a good person, we were friends. I still practice this as an adult, and hope to instill this in my daughter as well. Not all my friends compete in figure competitions. In fact, I’m sure some of them think it’s a joke or find it silly, but they don’t say that because they respect me as a person. Not all my friends have read all the Twilight books or seen all the movies. I know for certain some think they are stupid, my husband has teased me numerous times for it, but he still loves me. I’m an agnostic because I’m really not sure what I believe as far as religion or God or where we came from or where we’re going. But I have many friends and family who openly believe in God and strongly practice their faith and I respect them for it, some I even admire greatly for the way they “represent” their faith, because they do so with grace, fairness, and respect for others. My point is, while none of us are free from judgement or innocent of being judgement free of others ourselves, we have the power and ability to control them and how we project them out into the world around us. We also all can’t honestly say every single one of our friends is on the exact same page as us on every little thing in our lives; this would be not only impossible, but boring and lame.

I understand in this world there are going to be debates, opposing views, and differences among others…that is what I love about LIFE in general! We have so many CHOICES! We’re colorful and unique and awesome! What I don’t understand is how we go about expressing these things or why we sometimes have to do so in such a negative, hateful, or attacking manner. I recently joined a women’s cycling team, and while most of them are super friendly and nice, some have openly expressed a dislike of triathlons and the fact that I do both. They seem to think I’m bi-sporty and confused and don’t know what I like or want to do. No. I just like both and don’t see any reason why I can’t be a part of the club AND do triathlons. I get this same reaction from people who do Crossfit vs people who weight lift. I’m sorry, but you aren’t going to pin me against the other or define me and my tastes. You are welcome to your opinion, you are welcome to not like what I enjoy, but I’m not going to allow you to bully me or make me feel out of place because of it. And I will have the courtesy and respect to not to the same to you. Period.

We need to think before we speak or type. We need to remember that while we want others to respect our feelings and opinions, they want the same in return…we all just want to feel like we belong, like we are accepted, like we are justified. Why can’t we use THAT commonality to unite us? Share your heart, profess your love, do so respectfully with tact and consideration…don’t spew your anger and spread hate. There is a difference. I think we could all benefit from the sweet, innocent words of Thumper:

Selfishness vs selflessness…

This past Saturday marked 7 weeks from competition day. It also marked my first day at my new part-time job working the front desk at my gym. While I am excited and know it will help us bring in a little extra money and save on a monthly gym membership, I couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed Saturday morning, asking myself “Is this crazy? Will it be worth it?” I’ll be working 6 hours one Saturday a month, and 6 hours every other Sunday in addition to my full time job during the week. Now, if you don’t know, this is around the time in my training that my brain starts to fizzle and I become clumsy, forgetful and experience extreme highs and lows emotionally. It’s all part of the mental battle that is competition training and prep, but it can be challenging to deal with on top of everyday life, let alone people as active as my husband and I. We tend to always be juggling a lot at once, we usually work pretty well this way but now that we’re BOTH training, it can prove to be an extra challenge and I’m starting to feel it.

Saturday I was just plain overwhelmed; between getting myself and my daughter ready, the dog out to potty, my stuff ready for the day, house work, starting a new job, going over what all we had to do Sunday and wanting to fit in a tanning session…I was stressed and frankly, getting pissy. Even though I didn’t really have time, I drove to Ankeny for 10 minutes of lying naked in the warm glow of a tanning bed with the Eagles blasting through the speakers and a fan blowing all around me…it was bliss, 10 minutes of pure bliss. For those brief moments I was 7 again, riding on wet sandy towels spread out across the hot seats of my dad’s brown Bonneville with the windows down, radio blaring, on our way to lake Aquabi where my Aunt Debbie’s homemade potato salad and pickle wraps were waiting and where I would undoubtedly try to swim out to the dock in the middle of the lake and chicken out halfway, begging my dad or cousins to pull me. Sigh. It boosted my mood and made the mad rush of getting ready for work a little easier. But l felt guilty later that evening after getting off work flashing back to this, because I realized when I managed to have some down time with my family I was tired, bitter about how rushed my day was, and resentful about how busy the next day would be…which in turn just tarnished all that little family time. Ah the woes of being a grown up with responsibilities…and trying to find a good balance.

So Sunday, although we still had much to do, my honey suggested we skip working out at the gym and instead do it at home so we could spend the afternoon at the zoo with the monkey and then work on the housework later. It was a good plan, one I pouted about at first because it meant no “me” time at the gym (so selfish) and some of the housework being put off but…I’m glad we decided to compromise gym time and chores for some much needed family time, it was just what I needed…and clearly what my little monkey needed too ❤

Sometimes I forget in the mad rush to get it all done that providing a house and food and clothing for my family aren’t all the key ingredients to being a good mommy or wife…that me being healthy and giving myself time are sometimes selfish in the grand scheme of things…and that sometimes they just want me to be there…present and happy. What good is the little time we have together if it’s spent with me being grumpy and snappy and making excuses as to why I can’t sit still for one minute to just be with them? Are the dishes that important? Can the laundry wait a few minutes? Maybe Cadence can come sit with me while I fold or stand with me and listen to music while I clean…it isn’t much to ask and it isn’t very hard. Sometimes some of my favorite moments with Caleb are us standing in the kitchen prepping food and talking about nothing important at all. Or Cadence running in and out of the bathroom while I get ready saying her silly things. So while I blame it on not having enough time and being too busy, just as Caleb says, it’s actually my reaction to the situation that is the problem. It’s not where we’re going but how we get there. It’s not what we do in life but how we do it. My being a good wife and mother aren’t measured by how hard I work to provide for them or how much I do for them but in how I treat them and show my love. Sometimes I’m being selfish, rather than selfless which is what I strive to be in my love for them and I need to work on that.

So this post is in line with me keeping it real, on the outside AND the inside…I’m baring my inner flaws and mental struggles in hopes it not only holds me accountable, but also helps others maybe see where they are compromising the wrong things in some places as well. I’m not a perfect wife, mother, or friend, no matter how hard I try or what comes across on the surface. And while my honey and I are also imperfect and have our rough moments, I can’t say enough how thankful I am for my team mate and partner in all of this because clearly he helps me through even if it’s sometimes by calling me out on my weaknesses. Always learning, always growing, always forward ❤

 

 

F-Ab-ulous Ab Friday Volume 6

Happy Friday! Today is a vast improvement over my mood last week. I’m feeling strong, lean, and it helps that my size 4 dress slack capris are no longer leaving an indent in my waist line throughout the day…they are now loose in the waist and butt! Those jeans I wore last Friday? I’m having to do the old pull ‘n wiggle to keep them up on my tush because their getting loosey goosey too! I forgot how quickly things start to change in the last couple months leading up to the competition…I think I’m beginning to see that momentum!

I’m beginning to feel hungry mid afternoon and wake up with a growly belly so my metabolism is kicking into high gear for sure! My girls have gone down even more this week 😦 Caleb commented this morning that they are going bye-bye quickly, but claims to be a butt man so…I’m in trouble HAHAHA I have inherited the Heinkel “no ass”, so I’m going to keep doing those deep squats, lunges, and pull-throughs to at least work with what I’ve got 😉 Regardless, this is all encouraging and on schedule! 7 more weeks tomorrow!

I have picked out my suit style, decided on a fabric swatch, and have the measurements ready to place my order 🙂 I’m going with purple this year to honor my mommy…it was her favorite color and since she was on my mind all competition day last year I thought this would make me feel her presence even more this time around ❤ I don’t think there was a week in my life that went by without my mother pinching my tush and telling me how cute it was. No matter how unpretty I felt, through every awkward stage, she was there to tell me how beautiful I was…and how much she wanted to shove twinkies down my throat for being so naturally thin 😉 Oh mom, if only you could see how hard I have to work now hahaha! She would get a real laugh out of that…and I’m sure still be there to tell me I look great, even if I don’t believe it ❤ I’m missing her a lot this week for some reason. It’s just one of those things that comes and goes. I always miss her, it’s just some times more than others; usually times when I know I would be calling on her for advice or perspective. When am I not though?! I wonder what she would think of all this, and whether she would be one of those that encourages me to stay on track or tempt me with naughty foods. I know for sure she would be one of the loudest mouths out in that audience come the evening show, where do you think I got it from?! Sigh. Physically, spiritually, or just in my own crazy mind…she’s here, in my eyes, in my laugh, in the way I pinch my own daughters “cupcakes” and tell her how adorable they are…

Here’s to purple, to motivation, to moving “Always forward” with a sense of where you’ve come from, and to being an everlasting presence to at least one person ❤

 

Always forward…

Last Friday I was a bit down in the dumps about my progress that week. I just wasn’t seeing it where I wanted to and allowed it to bring my spirit down a bit. But I put on my favorite workout gear, got jacked on my pre-workout and hit the gym, engines full power. I ended up having a really great workout that night, not only because I pushed myself through a small mental roadblock but because I felt strong and powerful in spite of that. I got to looking at a photo I had snapped of myself before heading to the gym that night and decided to dig back through some old ones from this past fall. I came across one of my DSM marathon finisher photos and put it side by side with my most recent one:

I just can’t believe the difference. These are to scale. There is no editing. That is me, bloated and bulging out of my spandex on the left in September of 2012 and me now, just 7 months later on the right. And here I was, just that morning, beating myself up, doubting my hard work, thinking I wasn’t doing enough. Progress is slow, it comes in small bits, and it isn’t always obvious to us upon first glance. But if we really take a minute to evaluate things we will see just how far we’ve come. This is a big change. I had put back on so much body fat in the picture on the left, my sports bra and the built in bra of my tank top were struggling to hold the girls in place…thank gawd there isn’t video of me running or it would be Man Show “girls on trampolines” material, only probably…no definitely, not so cute. And you can see where my tummy and love handles are fighting against the stretch in my clothes. In the picture on the right there is no uncomfortable bulging or drooping or blah. I’m lean, I’m tight, I’m confident, and I’m happy. Am I perfect or where I want to be? No way, but I’m on a clear path to being a better, healthier version of me and that gives me hope and motivation to keep pushing. This in turn made me miss running…

I then looked through some old photos I had posted of myself after some of my solo marathon training runs last summer and fall. It’s clear from the cheesy grin or crazy faces I’m making that I was having a great time and was filled with pride and excitement in my new found strength. The one on the far right is after my first ever 20 miles…I can’t describe the feeling I had, it was exhilarating. I want to feel that again. I want to find that better, stronger runner inside of me; to take some of the focus off just my outside appearance and turn it back on building up my inner confidence…my swag, which was what this was all about. So I’ve decided I’m going to get back at running and start to incorporate it into my current training more to make that transition easier. I’ll do all my SS on the treadmill or path from work and one HIIT session a week doing running hills on the treadmill. This will give me time to slowly adjust my legs and body to the impact and motion of running, as well as hopefully improve my pace and breathing by doing the HIIT. Running can be so rewarding and therapeutic, I really miss those intimate, quiet moments just to myself.

This is me today, after my first run in over 7 months…3 miles, at a steady pace to keep my HR around 140-145, and I did it in about 36 minutes. Thanks to a little excitement, Thievery Corporation, and being a few pounds lighter…it was awesome 🙂 My feet and ankles began to get sore around mile 2 but I’m sure that’s just because they haven’t been through this in a while and they will eventually get back in the swing.

I got my first glimpse of the sparkle I’ve been digging to find again today…that swag we all have deep down, but sometimes bury with self-doubt, insecurity, weakness, and even laziness. I had gotten to be lazy, lazy in my actions and in taking care of my mind and body. I don’t want to be lazy anymore. I want that sparkle and swag…always forward my friends ❤

F-Ab-ulous Ab Friday Volume 5

I got off the scale this morning and immediately knew I wasn’t going to be impressed by my ab progress. I’ve felt bloated, had an upset tummy, and been gassy all week (TMI but…being real here) so I was already a bit sour faced about the whole idea of today’s weigh-in. I’m not sure if it’s switching things up in my nutrition (swapping out chicken for protein shakes, cutting cheese and sour cream from my lunch and instead eating peanut butter on bread for fats/carbs) or what but something is definitely different, cause my tum is all like “what the eff?!” and I’m all like “Chyeh. I know. Hang in there.”

So when I stood there in from of my mirror after weigh-in, I probably posed a dozen different ways, alternating between flexing, sucking in, and relaxed before finally taking my pictures. I even considered not sharing this week, thinking “What’s the point?!” Well what you see is me relaxed, and I’m not going to cop out on you just because it’s not great. I came to the conclusion that me sucking in or flexing or withholding progress info  isn’t going to do myself or any of my real girls out there any good, it’s only going to give an altered view of what I look like and feel day to day and I want us all to see that tummy as it is, no special lighting tricks or cutesy posing or flattering angles. That’s it, little pouch and all.

There really isn’t much change from last week at all, except my fabulous mommy pouch is a little more prominent in the profile picture, and my “two pack” more so in the front pose. Meh. What can ya do but keep driving forward, knowing your doing your best?! I would love to go bury my sorrows in a tub of ice cream and a pepperoni pizza right about now but…where would that get me?! Where would that get those abs and that mommy pouch? Always forward, pushing it even harder 🙂

On another note, there is one place I’m not having any issue losing from, and frankly I wish I could reverse it.

That’s right ladies, “the girls” are in full cut mode. Holy moly! I mean, really?! Look at that! hahahahaha The picture on the left is from this past Fall when my work had an event at Exile Brewery. I’m wearing the same bra and same tank top. I remember my husband posting this picture with the caption “Boobs!” Sorry babe. The boobs have left the building I have to say though, I’m adjusting just as I did last year; thankfully I invested in some smaller bras to flatter the girls and kept them. And I’ve come to appreciate their littler booby cuteness, they fit my new form well 😉 It’s just crazy how quickly they have changed in the last two weeks. Just last week I was filling this bra out normally and this week I’m getting that pesky gap in the top. This all leads me to ask once again: why can’t we choose where we lose the fat from? Cause my tummy and thighs are looking at my boobies like “Hey attention whores! Stop hogging all the spotlight, a-holes!”

Once again I just want to say how much I appreciate the love and support I’ve received thus far from so many amazing friends and fellow gym rats, and even some perfect strangers! Too often last year (and still even this year) I found myself cheering others on and being as supportive as possible, only to find myself feeling I wasn’t getting it in return. It was tough, and still can be, but I’ve realized that by sharing my experience I not only get to encourage and motivate others, but I get that same positive energy back and it’s truly a blessing. I also get to filter through the true blue and the fare weather, and the older I get the more I appreciate recognizing the difference 🙂 That’s also why I really do feel obligated to be sure I’m being genuine, raw, and honest. This isn’t some Celebrity magazine or fitness photoshoot, the pictures I share aren’t me at my most flattering or photoshopped to represent me in the best light…I don’t have those luxuries in my bathroom or closet mirrors, I don’t have access to stylists or makeup artists or airbrushers. I am real, I am bloated, I have stretch marks, and frankly I don’t give a crap today hahaha These jeans make my butt look cute, I’m wearing my favorite black leather jacket, and damnit if this v-neck t-shirt from target doesn’t show off my new cleavage well 😉 Happy Friday ladies, stand in the mirror naked some time this weekend and make duck faces…have a moment of embracing your swaggaliciousness in all it’s real glory ❤

Change…being real…and asking how bad you really want it.

When Caleb and I first decided we were going to join Farrell’s 10 week program, we realized right away some changes were going to have to be made, not only to our level of fitness and eating habits but our routines and schedules overall. We knew we were going to have to adjust quickly to the new wake-up time of 4am and that mornings were going to be a little crazy, but we committed and made it work. We got ourselves up and dressed, then woke our then 8 month old daughter up, tucked her into her car seat, and carted her off to grandma and grandpas at 4:30 in the morning to get to class by 5am. Obviously, this was a huge commitment and adjustment to them as well…sometimes she didn’t always want to go back to sleep, and they, being the amazing grandparents they are, dealt with it gracefully and graciously. We would bust our butts until 6am, then run and pick her up to rush back home and get ready for our work days. We did this for 10 weeks, then when we joined the Farrell’s FIT program we made adjustments, Caleb going to the 5am class and me going to the 9am class (since I went into work later) so that we had more time with our daughter in the morning and didn’t have to get her up so early. These routines are what set in motion our great ability to work as a team (both Caleb and myself as well as us with his parents), to become master schedulers, and to recognize that if we wanted something bad enough we were going to do what we had to do to make things work. This means forcing ourselves to become more organized, better planners, communicate clearly with our little “village”, and make social sacrifices along the way. Of course there were bumps in the road, there were days or weeks that we felt overwhelmed by it all…but we knew it was worth it, in the short and long term scheme of things.

Presently my husband and I both work full-time, 40 hour a week jobs. We’ve also both decided to take on part-time positions working a few hours on the weekends to make extra money. We’re proud parents of a 4 year old daughter who attends preschool, just finished her first level of swimming lessons (these were Mondays and Wednesday evenings) and is about to start soccer (practice on Thursday nights and games on Saturdays). She often tags along with us to the gym, playing in the gym daycare while we workout or goes to grandma and grandpas on weekends when it isn’t open. In addition to those responsibilities we have the joy and pleasure of running a fundraising organization called IM4RM which has an event scheduled for this next weekend at our gym to raise money for a local charity, The Children’s Cancer Connection. This is our second year running this and it has been an incredible experience, from the people we’ve met, to the way we see everyone’s hard work helping others. We raised over $15,000 last year alone with the help of many amazing people…it’s baffling. Beyond these top priorities, in our personal time we are also “athletes”. My husband trained for and successfully completed his first full Ironman last fall, I trained and completed my first competition and full marathon. Now this year we are both training for a figure/body building competition in June, and have plans to train for a Goruck challenge in the fall among a few smaller triathlons and races in between. Right now our training consists of 7 days a week at the gym, sometimes doing two-a-days. This means either getting up early before work, doing it over a lunch break, or getting it in after work. We go to our gym in Altoona, my work gym, use the treadmill on our front porch, or set up the bike trainers in our little living room…whatever we need to do to get it done. We also just put our first home up on the market and are trying to sell in order to upgrade to something bigger and nicer for our family. Somewhere, between all of this, we fit in family time and social lives as much as possible…it’s a challenge, it’s crazy at times, we get stressed out and overwhelmed, but it’s worth it.

Now, I don’t say all of this to brag or to seem all important or to make anyone feel like they aren’t doing enough. I say this to give everyone a realistic idea of what we do in order to live the life WE want; of what we are able to fit into any middle-class, hard working families schedule. We aren’t rich, we both work, we’re parents to an active child, and we’re trying to be active ourselves (in our bodies, families, social lives, and communities). We’re working on a modest income. We’re working with tight schedules. We’re trying to do right by ourselves, our family, and those around us.

I’ve been approached many times by friends, family, co-workers, or fellow gym members wondering how they can eat better, what they can do to workout and be fit, or how they can just change their lives overall. I give them honest answers, I tell them what I do, I direct them to our trainer. I’m always honored and a little tickled inside to be asked because I still can’t believe people would want to ask ME or think of ME as worthy of such advice. I’ll often check back with the person or ask them in passing how things are going and sometimes, not all the time but sometimes, I’m proud and inspired to see they have made those changes and are glowing and beaming with pride in themselves for the new challenge and adventure their on. But the other times, I’m sadly met with excuses like “I’ve been too busy”, “I can’t find the time” or “I just don’t have the money right now”, etc. And I see the tired, frustrated, sad expressions, I hear the complaints about their bodies and energy levels and just being bored…and I find myself frustrated, disappointed, and looking at a mirror image of me 5 years ago. Then I become sad, annoyed and struggle between being empathetic or apathetic.

I look back over the years and remember where Caleb and I have been, of our views and feelings on things, on things we’ve said and done, and how we’ve handled everything we’ve been through. I remember making these excuses. I remember saying things like “You’ll only see me running if my life depends on it”, that I’ll never quit smoking because it’s my choice and my body, or that these choices aren’t anyone elses business because it doesn’t effect them…you see where I’m going with this? Sometimes, we make excuses and other times we make justifications. Either you can legitimately justify why you “can’t” do something or you are simply making an excuse out of fear, insecurity, lack of desire, lack of motivation, or just plain not wanting it bad enough. I can honestly say no one ever stopped me from quitting smoking or from doing something about my poor eating habits and health…except me. No financial hardship, busy schedule, or obligation prevented me from doing what I do now…my brain did. And whether these choices are anyone elses business or not, they DO effect others…they effect my daughter, my family, my friends, my co-workers, even my dog. My mental and physical health effects everything I say or do, and everything I want out of life. My self-esteem effects my relationships and interactions with others. My ability to move and be active can either limit me or open the door to new things.

So I encourage everyone to be real with themselves for a moment, be raw, be brutally honest…and ask yourself why you aren’t doing what you want? Why you don’t look or feel the way you wish you did? Why you aren’t happy with yourself or others? Why don’t you like having your picture taken or going out and being around family and friends? My husband and I both used to hate having our pictures taken. We were hermits who stayed home, ordered pizza, and watched movies from the safety and comfort of our own couch. We only kept a small group of friends that either liked to do the same things or that put up with us. We had negative attitudes, we were proud to be lazy, and we didn’t see any reason to change. We wasted money on things that just put us deeper into our addictions and non-productive, anti-social behavioral patterns. We were unhappy and we didn’t know it or want to admit it. No matter what our friends or those that loved us said we were unmoved. Then…I got pregnant, s*** got real, and everything changed. A little person depended on us, we realized we are responsible for who she becomes and how she feels in this world…and suddenly everything we ever knew or believed in, again…changed.

Change. Chaaannngggeee. That word. It’s so powerful and scary and exciting all at once. Change. Run toward it! Grab it by the shoulders and shake it! Hug it and say “Oooooooooooo” while you squeeze! Don’t make excuses. If you want something, go out and get it. Do what you have to do to get things done. And this doesn’t just apply to working out or being healthy, it applies to every aspect of your life: work, relationships, friendships, hobbies, money…whatever. If you want something bad enough you will do whatever it takes to get it or make it happen. So the real question is: do you want it bad enough?