Do it

During the 3rd km of my run this morning, (which is my struggle point)  I ran past a man in a wheelchair.  His little boy was riding his little tricycle ahead of him and they were both so  cheerful and sweet,  saying hello and smiling and waving. 

As I'm struggling and swearing and bitching  and breathing heavy. 

Perspective folks.  That got me some pretty damn quick. 
Have a perspective filled weekend. 

Listening to your body

Right now, my body is telling me that it's pissed.

Too little sleep, too much activity. Too much goddamn arthritis and not enough medical assistance. Useless Doctors.
I didn't work out today. I trained three classes, and had little runs with two of the three, but I didn't go to the gym. My back hurts, I pulled something weird in my neck yesterday doing shoulder press and my knees are screaming.

I am not listing excuses. I am not.
(that repitition is more for me than to convince you).
I struggle with backing off. I am good at going balls to the wall. I am not good at saying hey this isn't feeling right perhaps I will rest.
I am good at telling people to never push through pain. I do it anyways. I tell people how important rest days are, but I struggle with taking them. The teacher is always the worst student.

There is a difference though between finding an excuse and listening to your body. I often need some quiet space to really listen- we are so busy and distracted and distanced from our physical selves we rarely just listen... The only thing we seem to be fully connected to is our smartphones. Everytime THAT makes any noise, we jump and dive towards it. When the body makes a noise, we ignore and keep going.

I am super tired today, so if that makes no sense I apologize. My 5 year old had another nightmare and the only cure for that apparently is sleeping on my head, then I was up at 4 for work. No amount of coffee will save me today.

So. Due to my brain function or lack of and my pain in various places, I will take today off. Maybe a nice yoga flow to loosen things up and calm my monkey mind, but not a hardcore leg workout that was scheduled. And I will TRY not to beat myself up all day. TRY.
I am not weak. I am listening to my body cues. I am not slacking, I am honoring my physical body with what it needs.

I am still not convinced.

Jesus

I don't hate Jesus. There seems to be a prevailing belief amongst the more devout people I know that I do dislike him immensely. Or God or religion in general. That is not the case.
I admire people who can fully devote themselves to anything. I also admire belief in something of which there is zero tangible evidence.... I also wonder at some of them.

I am not sure about Jesus. Leaning towards disbelief. Yet when the shit hits the fan, I pray. Sure I do. I don't like that about myself. My logical everyday brain questions it all but when I am skidding across the ice on a winter day into oncoming traffic, I pray my babies will be safe. Wtf.

I grew up in a house that went to church on Sunday and prayed before meals. I remember my first boyfriends father asking me why I beleived. I didn't have an answer. That was the first time in my life I felt really, really stupid because I had no answer. I had never met an athiest and had never considered WHY. I believed because my parents did. I believed because I was supposed to.

I stopped going to church after that. I got married in a Catholic church the second time becuase my husband wanted to and I didn't care. Just one more thing I've done to make other people happy. I wanted an easy, laid back beach wedding. I got a wedding bigger than my first one.... but we do things for other people all the time. It's what he wanted so whatever. It is what it is. The irony lies in the fact that my husband is now the biggest athiest you will ever meet. And one of the loudest- which is how he is with everything. Most people go to rehab and find God- he went and lost him.

My issue with religion doesn't lie in the ideals. I think anything that makes people be kinder to each other is good. I know many wars have been fought in the name of beiefs- I mean everyday type kindess. Forgiveness and all that. My issue lies in the elitism that seems to come with the very religious. The snooty "club" of church and the inability to associate with others. Like hey you haven't drank the Kool aid so you aren't good enough to hang out with.
I swear a lot in real life. It's part of my charm lol. I don't go around killing puppies or punching people in the face, so I think I am a pretty good person. I try to practice being a better person every day. Does this not fall in line with the super religious? Or do they just prefer to hang with thier own kind? I don't get it. I'd love to have a conversation with a Muslim and a Catholic and a yogi. That sounds like the start of a joke doesn't it? Except only the Catholic would walk into a bar, then talk about the the rest of the drinkers. Just kidding- I am basing that assumption on the few that I know. But it fits. The shiny-ness of the new type churches freaks me out. What are they trying to hide with the disco balls and flashing lights and rock bands? Why is there so much flash to draw people in? I am jaded I get that- but I always wonder what they are hiding.

I find the common threads of religions fascinating. Surrendering to higher power- giving it to God- releasing the issues we cannot control. I love that. My sister in law once said "the Lord helps those who helps themselves" in response to my Father in law saying "The Good Lord provides". I agree with her. I work for things. I make shit happen. I don't believe in passively waiting for someone to save you- God, Allah or Prince Charming. Save your damn self. Don't pray for money to fall into your lap, or for the answer to your problem- go out and make money. Get a goddamn job and stop having kids you can't afford.

I understand that when someone says "I'll pray for you", mostly they mean it from a good place. A place of caring and compassion. Still, some part of me wants to tell them to fuck off. Irrational I know.
But don't pray for me. Offer solid assistance if you truly care about my well being- listen to me. Give me a hug.
Go to church- love God. Or don't. I really don't care. But don't exclude everyone else becuase you think you are better. It's just like people who eat Paleo. You aren't better. Stop the need to always be better than everyone. Be better than you were yesterday. It's not about anyone else, or anyone else beliefs. We all hurt, we all bleed, we all love. Just becuase I don't Thank a man in the sky everytime I eat doesn't mean I don't deserve to be heard and loved and considered.

No broccoli before Yoga.

I went to a conference today. This one actually had really interesting sessions I was excited to go to, where in years past I have dragged myself and barely stayed awake. I LOVE professional development but sometimes... Snore. It was a good day.
I sat in one lecture and felt a desire I haven't felt in a long time. Not anything dirty- like 80% of the attendees were chicks- but the desire to know EVERYTHING. The presenter was talking about nutrition and supplements and how the body works and I suddenly wanted to know absolutely everything he was talking about. In my next life, I will get a doctorate in Sports Medicine. In this life, I will read I guess.
There is so much to know, and it all takes time. And money. And comprehension.
I have none of those it seems.

I have been trying to finish a nutrition cert for months. Even when I have the time to study, which is never, my brain doesn't work like it used to. University was easy for me. I could work a lot and party a bit and it didn't affect my grades. Now... nothing sticks. My brain is full, or not working, or just plain tired. Everyone told me pregnancy brain wasnt as bad as having-kids-brain. I now agree.
The combination of age and kids and the overly busyness of life has deteriorated my nerons. You know what else? I actually had to sound out that word deteriorated. And backspace. And retype.

THREE TIMES.

But busy is a state of mind. I spoke to one presenter today who I am lucky to know in real life, and who I admire both professionally and personally. She has 4 boys, runs an amazing business and seems to have her shit completely together. Her life is crazy busy. But she never seems frazzled. She is calm when you ask her how llife is. She is collected and cool and gorgeous.
Sometimes I let my frazzle spill out my mouth in a verbal diarreha of rant. My life is somewhat busy, but I have lots of quiet times too. Lots of times with my family and some times to myself. Compared to some, the schedule is insane. Compared to others, it's calm. But comparisions don't matter- it's my state of mind and my ability to handle all that I have on my plate. Sometimes, that ability is nonexistent.

I also got to do a Yoga flow as a session. It reminded me how out of practice I am. My yogi said if you don't practice yoga, you have no business teaching yoga. That is me right now. In my quiet space I realized how pissed I am at my body for not working. For being broken and not allowing me to do what I think I should, or what I used to be able to do. So I avoid yoga. I avoid confronting the demons and dealing with my limitations.
The irony is that as part of my intro to a yoga class, I tell them to let go of these things. Let go of the expectations, the cristicms and stop shoulding all over themselves.
I struggle with the same struggles as my students. Does that mean I am not a good teacher? Maybe. Does that mean I am ok with my imperfections? No. But maybe being aware of them is enough. Maybe it's an ongoing battle- against comparision with others and self. Against those 7 Deadly Sins I only know because Brad Pitt was in a movie about them....
I am aware. Sometimes I am less aware. Again, yoga woke me up. Taking that time to let everything else just fall away and make space in my head....
I sound like a hippie and that's ok. Yoga. Do it.

Deactivation

Yet another chocolate holiday- Easter. I admit, I drank a bottle of wine last night and pounded some Eggies. I am ok with it. I didn't plan to eat off track today or tomorrow anyways. The trick is to eat enough that you feel slightly sick at the sight of those little eggs the next day.. mission accomplished.

I left Facebook. I know. Shocking. I've blogged about social media before, and my opinions, as well as my issue and obsession with those little red notifications. I figured out a way to manage my business page and then deleted my personal account. THE FREEDOM!! I thought I would miss it. I thought I would feel left out- but I don't. I thought it would be like quitting smoking and consume my thoughts... turns out I care a lot less about the inane details of others lives far less than I originally thought.
I have more time. I have played more with my kids in the last two weeks than in the 3 months before. This morning I helped my kids look for hidden chocolate eggs rather than trying to take the perfect pictures to post. I didn't see the hundreds of pics posted of other people's egg hunts, or the perfect mom's handmade easter shit that makes me feel less than. I simply experienced the event with my kids. Only we did- and didn't have to share it with 400 people so they could feel part of my family when they aren't.
I have missed some stuff. I have heard "oh didn't you see that post?" a dozen times when people tell me things and I have no idea what they are talking about. I have recieved numerous panicked text messages asking why I deleted or blocked them (including my mom lol). I've had a lot of people ask me why, and say they miss me which is lovely- but it's not like I have been asked to hang out so the missing can't be that bad.
So why? It boils down to a cost benefit ratio.
Is the cost greater than the benefit?
I do this with friends and people in my life also. It sounds callous, but sometimes we need to simplify life. Is this person (or in this case Facebook) adding to my life more than it's taking away? If the answer is no, it's in a negative balance. I simply won't allow for negative balances.
Life can be harder than just deleting a FB account. Sometimes the ties are strong and it's not as simple as clicking Deactivate for people in your life that are sucking you dry. But it should be.
It's more difficult to deactivate family members, and friends that are imbedded in your life. I've been "deactivated" and it hurts. As I get older, I realize that it has less to do with me not being enough, and more to do with the relationship simply not working for the other person. I struggle with that often- rejection. I repeat that "don't take anything personally" agreement at least 5 times a week. I love the 4 Agreements. Sometimes you need to rip out that cancer and deactivate the relationship, or the app, or the job, or the life choices. How can we grow other wise? No one ever said personal growth was easy.

If it isn't working for you, why keep doing it??

Footnote- you know I don't care what you do. I'm not judging or telling you to delete anything. This was the right choice for me and my family. You decide what the right choice is for you and yours. As always, just trying to give people things to think about and create dialogue.
Peace and love <3 and balance. Always balance.

Hell

Today is our 5 year Anniversary. For many, 5 years is nothing. 5 years is just the start- the romance is faded, maybe young kids, maybe settling into a groove, maybe setting up for the 7 year itch, maybe coming into a deeper relationship. But not much. For those married 10, 15, 20 or longer- 5 years is a blink.
For us it's a big freaking deal.
I rarely post about my marriage, mostly because my husband asked me not to, but I need to get this out today.

I titled this post "Hell". You're are probably thinking Im nuts, or gone off topic as I tend to do, but hell is directly related to our anniversary.

We've been through hell. I don't mean we have fought and had issues deciding who would be in charge of cleaning this, or paying that, or if the kids can have screen time or dealing with job stress or money stress or home stress. We've done all that too. I mean absolute hell. When the bottom falls out and the only thing holding you to life is the little person who is completely reliant on you.

My husband was drunk for the first 2 years of our marriage. And longer in his life of course... I can't even explain the events of those years. I have to some people- the not knowing what was going to set him off, the not knowing where he was or how much he'd spend or when he would be home. The fear of going to a movie with friends and not knowing what to expect when I got home. The fights and tears and lies and manipulation. The feeling of being completely crazy and out of control and scared ALL THE TIME. That was my life. With a baby. And then with 2 babies.
I have been called lots of things and judged by a lot of people for not leaving. Mostly when I got pregnant the second time. I have had many judgements passed; friendships lost. I am codependent- that is without question. I write this out partly because maybe someone will read it and realize that being with an addict isn't black and white. It's not just leave and split up- it's so many shades. I see friends divorcing all over and while their journey is not mine and their reasons are their own- I have come through the other side.
We went to counselling. While he drank and then when he was sober. I thought if he got sober that it would be magical. I didn't realize the dark year that would follow. I was grateful and proud of him- but I was also filled with resentment. It was poison. And I didn't realize that he was full of resentment for ME... which made me hate him. WTF did I do? I held it together so you could fall apart so fuck YOU.
In his first year of sobriety, I took a trip  to Vegas and left the kids with him. We were not in a good place but I just needed a break. I needed some peace after the war of the last few years. I completely panicked on the plane. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't stop crying. Yeah he was sober now, but maybe this was the weekend he would drink again. With my kids. What had I done... I opened up my laptop and just randomly started typing. Yes as I bawled- I am sure the person across the aisle from me thought I was batshit crazy. And I was....
I still can't bring myself to read what I typed. I saved it just in case but everytime I think about opening the file I feel a lump in my throat and my breathing start to constrict. It scares me.

I have loved him. And hated him. And everything else in between. I think the scariest part of our marriage was when I just didn't give a shit anymore. That is a place hard to get back from, but we did.
That is my point. We did. Our relationship is still hard. I would never say we have an easy marriage. We aren't easy people. He works his program but still has the underlying issues. I try to work on myself, but as a codependent I have my own. We are finally starting to work together. After 5 years and 2 kids. It can be done.
There were many times I thought it would be easier to start over. I was probably right, but when have I EVER done what is easier.

That evil whore- The Scale

I run a Nutrition Challenge as part of my job. Don't worry- I am qualified. I've spent years reading, researching and taking courses. I am almost done another cert course... if my kids ever leave me along long enough to study and take the test. I think it's funny I thought a month ago that I could do a diploma through online correspondence. HA!
I digress.

As part of the challenge we do a weigh in. No mandatory, but client feedback says they like the accountability. It's one of the most hated parts of my job. Hauling out the scale, recording the number, watching dreams die and self esteem evaporate. Seeing the faces fall when that number doesn't go down, hearing the excuses when it actually goes UP.... the hope goes away and the faces crumble.

It kills me. And not just because I have my own issues with that bastard number (less issues than before which is good because I never ever thought I'd weigh 150lbs and be mostly ok with it) but because I sometimes run out of things to say. It's like when an aquaintince has someone die. If it's a bestie you cry along then start pouring the wine. If it's someone you barely know, it's awkward. Should I hug you? Should I say it's ok when it clearly isn't? I hate platitudes. I also hate being mean when people are upset.
When they are ok, I have no issues being extrememly forthright. Oh you can't lose weight and you're convinced that you have metabolic damage because you saw an article on facebook last week? No. Get out of your kids fries at McDonalds. Stop skipping workouts. Be HONEST with yourself GODDAMMIT.

But when I see that sad puppy look and realize how much emotional attachment this person has to that fucking number... is it the time to say these things? I just can't do it. Maybe that makes me bad at my job. Maybe that is THE time for it to sink in. Sigh.

I struggle with so many parts of my job right now. This is just the one that is in my head right now. I have gorgeous, fit moms looking to "drop that last 10 lbs". I just can't do that to them. I can't take them down that road.... because I know where it goes. Why do they need to be less? WHY do we not see ourselves as we are??? We are innundated with pictures of fit moms. Moms with full abs. Fitness women are all over my social media accounts (my fault for following and having those interests I guess) so I see lean women all over. It skews my perception of what I should and want to look like. What is feasible for me to look like, without being that crazy bitch I once was. I don't want this for them.

Vacation Crazy

We are going on a family beach vacation in 7 days.
I am kid-like excited. I haven't had a beach holiday in 2 years and Dear husband, camping with the kids to the local lake does NOT count.

Normally before a vacation I would diet. A LOT. I would do drastic things like cut out carbs and drink dandelion tea and eat pounds of asparagus everyday. I would add in killer amounts of cardio. I have even taken fat burners and ephedrine among other things. Shocking I know.

This was normal for me for years. I get it's disordered and I get its not normal by any stretch. I can't even speak of the fucked up stuff I did before my first beach holiday with my ex. It boggles my mind now.

I haven't done any of those things this time, but with a week left, I am starting to panic a little. I always eat asparagus because I love it but I found myself adding more of it and less of the rice into my meal today. Without consciously doing it. This shit goes deep my friends.

I find myself planning extra workouts in my head. Hmmm if I change this around then I can do an extra boxing session and that will eliminate a rest day.... The fucked up thing is I need my rest days. I go 7 days a week and I don't walk- and not in that awesome I -killed-my-legs-way. The bad My-lumbar-spine-is-totally-fucked-with-arthritis way.

Logical me knows not a ton can change in a week. I could drop water sure. Short of starting an illegal burner or surgery, I am not going to lose much in a week. I still panic. I have spent so many years trying to deal with that crazy, yet she remains. Quieter, and more easily shoved down but remains nonetheless.

I recognize my issue. I make attempts to be better. I will train my ass off this week, because I do every week. I will stay on my plan, including all carbohydrates as they are needed for my body to fuel my kickass workouts and recovery. I will rest as needed, as I will require 100% of my brain and body function to deal with my kids on a plane for 5 hours..... and patience. I will need oh so much of that- and we all know how bitchy I get with no carbs and too much cardio.
I'm not saying I am against cutting a bit before an event- a photo shoot (not that I will ever do one again lol but I get it); a wedding etc. For ME, it's not a good pattern. It's a family holiday. I will be wearing a bikini for 7 solid days probably, but at some point I need to accept that I work hard, I look decent and I am enough.

Without bringing back the crazy ;)

Diets and littles.

Today my 5 year old asked me what a diet is. In a normal household, this may be a normal conversation. In my house it's a shoving-the-anxiety-down-learning-opportunity. I try not to show any emotional response. I try not to panic. I try not to show my children that I take this incredibly seriously and fear that food will take over thier lives as it did mine.

Big breaths girl. Calm the hell down. It's just a question. As expected, after my long explanation he (like a typical 5 year old goldfish attention span) said he wanted more banana and pb and then we talked about what Spiderman might eat for breakfast.

In my house, I try to promote balance. We have treats. They also have unlimited fruit and veggies. Granted the veggies aren't as popular, but who can blame them? My explanation of what a diet was included talking about food restriction, losing weight and how we can make better choices to fuel our bodies. I use that a lot. Making choices that make us stronger, and run faster while some choices make us tired and slow. Sometimes foods vs all the time foods.

|I emphasize choice. Of course my kids are 5 and 3 so their choices are largely limited to what I choose to have in the house (and thier cheezie-obsessed father but that's another battle for another day).  At some point, they will go out on their own and have to make their own choices. All I can do is set them up and hope that they do, most of the time.

With clients I also stress choices. YOU make the choice. Not me. Not your kids or husband or friends. YOU. You choose to have a cheat meal- then you choose to accept the consequences. You choose to eat off plan consistently, then you choose behaviour that takes you further from your goals not closer too. It's all a choice. I remember someone tellling me when I was dieting for a show that no one made me choose this. I chose it. So stop acting like I'm a vicitm. Stop acting like I CAN'T have food. I can. I can have whatever the hell I want, but I choose not to. I choose to live in balance. I choose to fuel my body and be authentic- moving towards my goals of being stronger, being faster and being BETTER. If that comes with getting leaner, cool.

Choose the best today. For you and for your family.

Lists

I have realized I love lists. Not writing them- I knew that years ago. I love making lists- it makes me feel like I have a handle on my crazy life if I write down all the things I have to do. I usually have one broken into days that week, then a work specific one beside the computer, then of course my big fridge calendar and my phone calendar that syncs to the Beard's phone. Lists errrywhere. 
This time I mean the lists all over FB and Huffington Post and random blogs.
5 ways to love your body. 10 reasons to get divorced.  10 reasons to stay married. 7 mistakes we make trying to get lean. 8 ways to love your child better. 12 things you are screwing up your child with.

Those lists. The ones that break life's biggest issues into small, manageable bites for me to chew on. Oh my marriage can be perfect in 6 easy steps? Thank God. I thought I may have to devote some serious time to it over a number of years.
They're everywhere.  I usually open a tab on my browser and save them to read later. Sometimes later is that day, sometimes it's days. Sometimes I realize I have 20 browser windows open on my phone and 18 of them are numbered lists lol. I just checked and I only have 4. Must be a slow day because of the Grammy Coverage. I am waiting for the list of 8 reasons Kayne is the biggest DB in music.

Fake-ness and Social Media

Is Fake-ness a word even? Meh it is now.
I could talk about the fake tits on social media, or the fake booty made by the exaggerated back arch, but that isn't what I mean with this post.
I mean the fake friends.

I get really annoyed over the false intimacy. Oh you saw the pics of my kids bday so you think you're being a good aunt/ uncle/ godparent/ cousin/ friend/ relative in general.... wait does my kid know who the hell you are even? Not likely. The ones they do are in the goddamn pictures with them.

Oh I read your statuses so I totally know what is happening in your life.
No, you know what I choose to share. The people who really care about me actually have conversations with me. They ASK how I am. They look underneath.

What I really really dislike is the fake friends. The ones that you cannot stand. The ones that you talk about to your real friends. The "hide" function is a gift to every passive aggressive person out there. Too scared to delete someone you can't stand? They may actually ask you WHY.... better to passively hide them so you can't see the dumb shit they post.

DELETE. Instead of posting inspirational shit on IG, delete them. From FB and from life. Do it. Grab a set.
Call them out on their bullshit. Tell them you think they are a condescending asshole/ chronic oversharer/ ignorant antivaxxer/ too many game invite guy instead of telling everyone else. Be real.

Or don't. Be passive and bitch about how much thier shit pisses you off in real life. WHY is it worth your time?!!??!
An argument could be made for why social media is worth your time at all. I love it. It's not a secret to anyone. I have made strides to limit the time, but yes I love the articles and the pics of kids and all the crap. I don't love how it's shaped our culture.

Inspiration

I'm not inspired by arched-back, ass out bathroom selfies. I'm not inspired by flexing in the gym mirror selfies. I'm really not inspired by mostly naked look-at-me selfies with kids in the background. That makes me want to barf.

I am inspired by the overweight person who walks into the gym, scared as shit,  but even more scared of remaining trapped in a body they don't recognize.

I'm not inspired by the person who posts 800 race pictures and pouts when their 400 not-real-life friends don't comment on every one. I'm not inspired by those looking for constant pats on the back- you're not a dog. You don't need constant reassurance. If you do, you need to work on your outrageous insecurities rather than commenting on what everyone else is doing wrong.

I am inspired by those who get the work done every single day- in the gym and in life- without posting about it. I am inspired by those who share knowledge in a non condescending manner with a true passion for life- rather than a need to be "better than".

I am inspired by those who strive for growth. Those who look for ways to improve themselves in all ways. Life is more than running or squatting or even being a parent. I'm not inspired by those who quote things like "obsession is a word the weak use to describe the dedicated". No obsession is sometimes just that- unhealthy and unbalanced. I am inspired by those who are able to balance work, family, health etc.

Last Parenting blog for a bit I promise

I am sure any non-parent readers are bored as hell, but I gotta get this one out then I'll talk about fitness or swear or rant or something next blog.

My 3 year old is "vaccuuming" as I type this. I am waiting for my Mother of the Year award.
My 5 year old is giving me a commentary from the washroom as he drops a Number 2. I really enjoy these conversations about his poop. This makes me feel warm inside.

Jesus. This is my life.

It's actually pretty awesome- constant poop talk aside.

I had a conversation with some friends a few weeks ago about when I should put my daughter in preschool. It occured to me that she could go this coming Sept and then hit kindy the following year. I almost had a heart attack. I am not ready. My son was a no brainer as his bday is Sept. Hers is Jan so we have more decisions to make. The Beard and I decided it was best to keep her back instead of rush her in. While I yearn for two free mornings a week, I am not ready. And really why are we in such a damn rush to get rid of them??
A friend told me that her kids teacher said she has never said WOW I am so glad this kid started early, but she has said This kid isn't mature enough for kindergarten a whole bunch of times.

A thread came up on a Mom board I am on with some Moms complaining that their kids were so advanced but the age for kindy is 5 by March 1st (how arbitrary is March 1st btw?? that makes no freaking sense to me). A girl I know, who I actually love for her posts and sense of humor and logical thinking and I really would like to hang out with her and drink wine... anyways I digress as usual- so this girl said hey the guidelines are there for a reason and kids are rarely as smart as their parents think they are.
Like these moms really believe they must know better than education professionals. Yeah, sometimes mothers just KNOW. Half the time they are blinded by bias and love for their child and brain dead from too much to do and too little sleep. I know. I am one.

Thank God she said it so I don't have to. Don't get me wrong, I think my kids are amazing. Special, amazing, wonderful etc. Not genuises. Geniuses don't eat their boogers. I'm pretty sure that saying was in a movie, and it's something I am desperate for my kind to stop doing. I VURP every time I see him secretly shove that booger in his mouth. He's getting better. But seriously it's the most fucking vile thing I have to deal with.
I don't believe they will do anything they want. I wanted to be a ballet dancer. I have ZERO coordination and very little grace. Does that mean I suck at everything? Hells no. Does that mean if I put Rudy- type effort into becoming a dancer I could've done it and played for Notre Dame? Wake the fuck up.
I mixed analogies but I honestly don't know the name of any famous dancing place.

I will encourage them like crazy. I will teach them to get up and work hard and if you suck, work harder. I will NOT teach them they can be anything they want. I will encourage them to find what they love and do it, suck or not. My son will very likely not play in the NHL. He loves hockey though, so he will play for as long as he wants. Maybe he will play old man hockey, maybe not. Maybe his love of the game will diminish when he realizes he will not be the next Sydney Crosby. I sure as fuck hope not.

Maybe I am a destroyer of dreams. Maybe I am a cynical bitch and I should teach them to reach for the stars no matter what their dream!! That shit won't work in my house. We are realists. Bills gotta get paid, works gotta get done. That doesn't mean you have to dread the hours at your job. I freaking love my job. Is it my dream job? No. But it's pretty great, and stems from a huge passion of mine. So I am not wasting my life- and I won't let them waste theirs.

Seasons of life....

I promise to have less swear words than usual in this post. The subject just doesn't seem to fit a ranting line of F words.

Driving my kid to school this morning, I was struck by how tired I am. Generally tired. Maybe it just seems that way today as everything is darker and more exhausting when kids are sick and not sleeping at night. Life seems more bleak, carbs look more inviting and my body feels much heavier to carry around all day. Maybe because of the carbs. Lol. Today I felt almost too tired to want to eat shit. That for me is weird.

This is the season of my life. Being tired. Being busy- I hate answering "busy" when someone asks how I am. All the shit on my plate is there because I said yes. ME. No one else. If I am busy, it's because I choose to be. It seems like we tried to cut back the busy-ness but as the kids get bigger it grows. More school stuff, more activities, more demands. More demands on myself to BE something everyday.

I should say "glorious". I should say "My daughter wants no one but me to hold her at night when she is upset. Her little body snuggles right into me and her little chubby arms wrap around and it's amazing". Yes I don't. I think that sometimes, but sometimes I think holy shit kid just lie down before I fall on you.

I say my 5 year old is "willful". I mean hes a pain in the ass. Does that mean that if I had to make Sophie's Choice I'd throw him to the wolves? No of course not. But sometimes I can't beleive how angry I can become at his behaviour. I can't help but think wtf did I do wrong to make this child have zero listening skills? Will it serve him in the future to argue EVERYTHING?? It's probably his dad's fault. Not mine. Clearly his dads. Sometimes I want to smash my face into the wall if I hear fart-fart-poop one more goddamn time.

This season shall pass. I know that. Logically. I know my littles will be bigs soon, and I will desperately miss thier little snuggles and needs. The thought of it brings my tired eyes to tears, but I also just want no one to touch me sometimes. This season of my life is an insane combination of wanting to experience every moment of these little people, yet screaming with frustration at my lack of space.

I'm tired. And weepy. I watched Parenthood this afternoon (I gave the kids an ipad each and begged for 40 minutes of quiet) and bawled my face off. It's my littlest baby's bday today and i don't know how I will stay awake for cake.... and part of me wants to cry into the damn cake because she is 3 and an actual little person.
How can we possibly want to pull them back yet push them away all at the same time?

Whole30 equals WholeCrappy

I meant to blog about this on the weekend but got distracted. Distracted by food mostly.

If you follow me on Instagram, you would have seen the giant glass of wine I posted on Friday. Yes. Whole30 turned into Whole14. I was done. So I had two glasses of wine (BIG ass glasses) and some chicken wings. I don't feel bad. I made a conscious decision to quit.

I am not weak. I did not fail. Quitting is not always a negative thing.

For me, continuing would have gone bad. I could try to explain my complicated reasons, but I will break it down to control.
My need for control has ruled and dictated much of my life. Like many people, it served me in my profession and didn't in my relationships. When I found yoga, I found the beauty in letting go. When my husband shares lessons from AA, I learn more. I struggle all the time with falling into old patterns and will likely do so for the rest of my life....
Food control is a scary place for me. I have been down that road, and it's a dark one for me.
Obsessive thoughts about cinnamon buns and shit I don't even like; negative to the point of abusive self talk; binging and purging... it was a long time ago but apparently not long enough.

I generally eat well. I measure food and weigh to check portions- not all the time but frequently. I can go with or without the food scale and not freak. I can choose to eat a salad at a restaurant or choose to eat a burger and have limited guilt.
This Whole30 thinger brought back some memories of bad places. Some obsessive type thoughts... and it was only 14 days. I think it was the structure. The being told it WAS NOT ALLOWED. So far the only thing I have added into my daily meals is oats and one serving of rice but the thought patterns have changed immensely. Who knows why the brain works the way it does? All I know is, I was scared so I stopped.
Also I noticed zero improvement in pain levels. Perhaps because it was only 14 days who knows. I need to find another way.

I DID notice that less booze equals less water retention. Imagine (insert DUH you dumb shit meme here and big teenager type eye roll).

Judgements, creeping and clothes

This topic has been in my brain brewing for a while.

Today it comes out for two reasons. 1- a creep at the gym stared at me. I don't mean glanced for a second too long, I mean STARED. Did the old up and down twice. Until he went back up and realized that I was staring back at him with resting bitch face. Fuck off.
2- I had an online argument with a muscle hater. A female fighter was referred to as a "man without a dick". Why I bothered interacting with this C U Next Tuesday I will never know. Sometimes I still get sucked in despite my best efforts to resist. What is that saying about arguing with an idiot?

So here we go.

The Beard and I had a very long disagreement this holiday about a dress I chose to wear. Ok the argument wasn't so much about the dress, but about the behavior. Perhaps I act differently when I wear a dress and heels, perhaps he was more sensitive to my normal drunken behavior when I am wearing a short dress and heels. And it was hella short. Regardless, it bothered him so I needed to address it. Which I did. My point in bringing this up at this point is that he said during our argument that I was asking for attention and no wonder men may act inappropriately if I was wearing a short and tight dress.

WHAT THE FUCK.

So if I wear a skirt and get raped- is it my fault? Am I asking for it? This was a huge issue for me. HUGE. That of course was not his point, but it created a conversation with myself in my head.
Ergo this blog post.

I wear tights almost every day. Wanna know why? It's not because I want strange men to look at my ass. It's not because I am cocky and think I am the hotness. It because A) they fit and B) I don't trip over the legs. Seriously. I have had gym incidents where my left foot has been caught in the right pant leg and I have fallen down. I have also fallen down stairs. I kid you not. I am that uncoordinated sometimes.
Also they have a high waist and hold all my stuff in.

I wear tights to the gym too. Does that mean gym creeper has the right to stare at me and make me uncomfortable? THIS is why female only gyms exist and that really pisses me off. Females feel so threatened that they are afraid to work out in a large room with men?!?!? What the actual fuck is that about.

I am confident enough that I stare back. With a very specific FUCK YOU look on my face. I  have been in gyms for enough years that it's MY fucking safe place and I won't allow some creepy douchebag to make me feel weird about being there or wearing tight pants. Think I wore this for you asshole? If you continue to stand behind me while I do stiff legged deadllifts, I will fucking throat punch you.
I have altered my workouts and my workout times because I know I have to bend over and I won't do it at peak gym times. THAT pisses me off to no extent.

Back to the dress. I felt good in that dress. It was comfortable. It was cute and I felt good in it. So I wore it. Not for validation or pervy looks. Just like I wear tights. OR tank tops- you know what it's effing hot in there and I sweat like a dude. I do not nor have I ever worn just a sports bra. Its not THAT hot. Ever.

In my argument with online idiot, I asked why it's ok to say a muscled woman looks like a man without a dick, but to comment on a plus sized person is awful. BOTH are awful. That was my point. Who has the right to make someone else uncomfortable about how they look? Who the fuck do you think you are?
I don't need anyone but me to like how I look- and of course my husband to an extent. I know he would like it a bit better if I carried a little less muscle, but he still tells me I am beautiful. And means it.
I also don't need to hear that you hate how I look. Fuck you. Mind your goddamn business. Worry about yourself online bitch- I guarantee all that negativity spewing from your twat mouth comes from an unhappy person. Happy people just don't go around ripping other people to shreds. They just don't.

So strut it ladies. And gents. No matter what fucking size you are, no matter what you wear. No one has the right to make you feel uncomfortable. Strut that ass- big or small- and fuck 'em all.

Update for Real. With less swears.

I said I would update too and other than my rant yesterday I haven't.

I feel like shit.

Of course I lost the bloat. My joints feel less puffy (hands and knees) but my back is an absolute mess. My entire pelvis is locked up- which I am sure my mom wished was the case when I was a teenager harhar- but it's bad.
So bad I actually couldn't work out this week. My husband sometimes asks me how I am, but he is a man and.... well really, do I need to say more? He was a little shocked at my taking days off the gym. Like that is what showed him that I am actually fucked. But then he asked me to carry a giant tv out to the truck so...

I also know I am not eating enough calories. I am blah. Lethargic, unmotivated and crabby. Yes I get this happens. I understand correlation doesn't equal causation and the fact that I am eating this way doesn't necessarily cause the issues. The back issue was existing- but it's worse. The other variables didn't change.
There was a time in my life when I could get enough calories. Clean, gluten free, super low to no carb, etc. That time is not now. I am really worried about the lack of calories as I preach everyday to keep the calories up. Blahblahblah.
I will go for another week. Then fuck it. I will start to intro things back in. This week my goal is to simply eat more of what I can.

Oh and for the second time in my life I cheated on a strict diet. I added a tsp of coconut sugar to my coffee everyday bc the headaches were devastating.

Elimination Diet

So I said I would blog about this, but now I don't have a lot to say.
I am in pain pretty much all the time. My back is wrecked. It hurts if I work out, it hurts if I don't. My knees are also a problem. They hurt when I squat, lunge, do stairs, sprints and the bike. Not until the next day though, so I convince myself it's fine. Physio didn't help. Dr didn't help. Next step is.... what?
It all gets way worse with crappy diet. Arthritis, fibromyalgia all that crappy stuff. I was told 4 years ago to cut back on coffee, alcohol, sugar and grains to manage pain. I decided to listen.... now. lol.

I REFUSE to give up coffee. I will learn to love it black. For allllll the shit I have given up, I will keep coffee and those idiots who tell me it's SOOOOOO much better for you can suck it. Suck it hard. I am keeping the coffee. I can't be drunk to deal with people, so I had better be caffienated.

I am following the Whole30 plan. Basically I get to eat meat, eggs, veg, nuts and some fruit. That is all. Oh and coconut oil and some weird shit called ghee (which after some research is just clarified butter. Amazon sells it and I am sure it costs more than my grocery store butter melted down and clarified. Seriously people).

My husband is on board. And scared. By on board I mean he understands and won't come home with ice cream- not that he is doing it too. That would take a heart attack or an alien invasion. That's cool- I am tough. Just because I choose to do something for my own health doesn't mean I expect those around me to change their lives. This is an important idea many competitors forget. The world doesn't stop turning because you don't eat bread at this time. So suck it the fuck up.


I don't care about losing weight. Would I like this belly bloat from rivers of wine over the holidays to disperse? Fuck yes. Am I doing this to "cleanse"? Fuck no. I'll just get one of those "It-WORKS" wraps for that.

Ok I couldn't even type that shit with a straight face. Wraps. Seriously. STFU. Pay me $40 and I'll wrap you in saran. Call me a coach too, give me hundreds of dollars and I will give you some specifcally sized tupperware and some shit quality protein powder too. I could be rich!!

Why am I doing it? Other than pain management, and the fact that I had to quit tobagganing with my kids the other day- which killed me, honestly made me want to cry right there on the hill- because I am trying to avoid meds. The avalanche of meds designed to mask the pain, never to address the actual issue. I still don't know what the goddamn issue is even after a year of appointments and exercises and xrays. Part of me thinks maybe living in a medicated haze would be easier.. then I remember my babies. And the fact that they need a mom who is really HERE. Not a mom on meds. Not a mom on her goddamn phone. A mom who is physically and mentally WITH them.

The hypocrisy is that they are in the other room playing on iPads and I type this. Yeah, I get it. Do as I say not as I do. No one likes the asshole who points out the irony.
Today was my first 100% on day. Kale/ apple and some other shit juice for breakfast with an egg cup. Yes I am waiting for my husband to yell at me for spending $7 on juice. I am hoping he waits until the 3rd day when I am really pissy.
I had some nuts, some spaghetti squash with bison and sauce... and a fricking lot of tea. It's also cold as fuck here, so that helps keep hydrated I guess.
And coffee of course. I did have flavored coffee, but I figure I can't cut out that too or I might die. Black caramel coffee it is. It doesn't have sugar or sweetener in it so suck it. Life is too short.
I weigh 153 lbs. Honestly less than I thought after the holidays. That's only 3lbs up and I ATE. And drank. And have no regrets. Other than the fact that I can't demo a cobra pose when teaching yoga. lol. Do as I say, not as I do ;)

Namaste. Have a super day. Stay warm.