CrossFit Journal of a Fitness Flunkie

It’s been a rollercoaster of emotion since I started CrossFit July 30 of this year, 8 weeks ago. This self-proclaimed Fitness Flunkie is on her way to becoming…wait for it….a Fitness Phenom!

If you’ve been following me, you know I’ve written a couple of posts about the experience so far – right before my first class (Gym Class Jitters), and then again after the very first week (CrossFit New You Review). But neither of those entries really give you a feel for what the journey has been like so far. My Facebook friends know, though.

Yeah, yeah….I know it’s only been eight weeks. Let me take you along for the ride, courtesy of some posts I made at the time.

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July 30 – Day 1 Under my belt. Please send love and support as I sure as heck need it.

PS – CLEARLY this pic was taken before I did anything, given the complete and total absence of sweat. You know my face would glisten within seconds of hearing the word “burpee”.


August 1 – Day 2 of CrossFit New You Challenge and guess what I discovered? I got this!


August 3 – Day 3, and can I tell you I’m loving CrossFit so far? Got my freak on today with burpees, DASL style (those would be my initials which serendipitously spell “dazzle”) , which, for the uninitiated, isn’t anything all that dazzling but it works for me for now!

Michelle is a total bad a$$ coach, teammate Jessica is a goddess, and this chick right here is a freaking queen for getting through it and Week 1.

I got this.


August 13 – Started Week 3, aka Day 7 of 18, in the CrossFit New You Challenge. Practiced our first Olympic lift today, the Hang Power Clean. My cousin was right about the steep (whoa is it steep!) learning curve but as a group we did pretty good tonight. I gotta work on the hip thrust and the “scarecrow” position which requires a bit more strength from the deltoids than I have but I’m completely envious of my coach’s arms so …. #goals. Worked with a 35# bar which was respectable!

I can’t believe how much fun I’m having. Now I laugh that I once thought this was so radical. It’s actually empowering. I feel strong and it feels like I’m getting stronger each day.

Lost 4.5 pounds in two weeks too. That might be because I’m actually tracking calories and trying to target a certain number. I am usually 200 over every day but clearly it must be less than I had been taking in when I didn’t track at all. So…. #bonus.

Drinking tons more water too. Not quite at my target level but easily doubled or tripled what I had been drinking before.

I ❤️ us: my New You Challenge teammates and coach. CrossFit is easily one of the best things I’ve ever done for myself.


August 15 – Hear ye, hear ye: I hereby declare August 15 “Bada$$ Beast Mode Day” since I killed it morning, afternoon and night.

Ok, normally I don’t go on about this kinda stuff, but today was flat-out awesome and I just have to share!

Morning: presented to our board of directors on our enterprise risk management program which I run. Killed it. Had our VP of strategy tell me that I exuded fantastic executive presence and confidence, in full command of my subject material and at complete ease answering their questions. Flying high after the whole thing was done. 

Afternoon: prepared a presentation for my coworkers intended to be education and my analysis of 60 privacy laws that we are subject to and my recommendation for how we improve our privacy program and consumer marketing as a result of that analysis, all the while protecting the constituents who count on us to do so. Killed it.

Night: today at CrossFit Day #8, I dead lifted 75 pounds roughly 30 times, jumped rope 160 times, ran 400m, and did some bicep/tricep work…forget what they’re called but I was spent when it was done. Another half pound gone. Better than three weeks ago when I wished I was doing something like this, bettering myself and getting stronger. Killed it.

Beast mode. August 15. Carry on.


August 20 – CrossFit Day 10: today was a tough one for me mentally. We didn’t do an enormous amount of cardio but enough. Man, I hate cardio. My lungs feel like they’re no bigger than a zip-lock snack bag. Why is that? Why has it ALWAYS been like that for me? Will it ever improve? Seems like the answer is a flat no.

We did some weight lifting which was challenging but fun. At least I felt like I could do it. I can feel the muscles in my arms getting stronger.

Not gonna lie: today was the first day in three weeks I didn’t want to go. I’m feeling demoralized about it getting harder. And tell me how one day of eating birthday cake magically added five pounds back on my frame overnight? That ticks me off.

Still, I went. And I got through it. We all did. Here’s to another day.


August 24 – I just finished Week 4 of 6 in the CrossFit New You Challenge. 12 workouts in, at this point. As I’ve mentioned in prior posts, I never once considered myself an athlete. I am the furthest thing from it. Kinda like how I’m a creative soul trapped inside of an accountant by education…I have capabilities that go unused on a daily basis.

maria-fernanda-gonzalez-461523-unsplashOne of the most surprising things is how I’ve been remarkably upbeat about attending class. There were two days out of the last four weeks I just didn’t want to do this. Not that bad! I’m basically starting from ground zero but to have only two down days this entire time? Put a notch in the win column.


August 29 – You guys: today was pretty challenging. I don’t even remember my workout time. 32 minutes and some odd seconds? Whatever.

At some point toward the end of the burpees, I started to tear up for the first time in this whole challenge, five+ weeks in. 

Coach Michelle was concerned that I wanted to quit, but that wasn’t it. It was more me thinking about how I WANT THIS SO BAD. I want to be fit and strong and flexible. No more excuses. No more “window shopping wishes”.

It’s so hard right now when your body fights everything you ask of it, but at least I can do it. At least I’m healthy and able enough to give this a go. I finished every bit of this workout today.

Ok, so I modified the box jumps. Sure, my bar work isn’t 100% to form, what with my tiny little hands trying to hold all this body weight upright, but I did it.

#dirty30 #goals #newyouchallenge


September 6 – If you had told 10 yo me that 51 yo me would not only hang from a bar AND pay money to do it, she wouldn’t have believed you. She might have cried.

If you had told 21 yo me that it was a chin-up bar and not one that serves beer, she wouldn’t believe it either. But instead of crying, she’d cheer!


September 10 – 😔 You guys… As you know I’ve been hitting the gym for 6 weeks now. I can tell I’m making progress but I don’t SEE it yet and it’s getting me down. Yes, I know it’s only six weeks. Yes, I know it took nearly 20 years of high stress to put it on as I had no outlet for dealing with endless life changes. Yes, I know I have tons of support on this journey, but I’m feeling so crappy right now.

I’m crazy anxious to see progress, a lot of progress, because um, gym photos of me are not the most flattering thing ever and it looks like those will be posted on a fairly routine basis. 😳 Sure, I could untag myself but you guys see me looking like this every day so what’s the point of that?

Really, I monumentally struggle with my looks when I try to clean up and look nice, but to be all red-faced, sweaty, saggy, and uh….LARGE is not fun. I’m embarrassed by my size. I am really embarrassed. I am trying to channel that anger and embarrassment and disappointment in myself into motivation to change. I just don’t know if I can really pull this off, ya know?

What’s needed is a lifetime of sustained effort, and that’s hard to imagine. I’ve never done this before other than a crash diet thing 20 years ago which was not healthy. And the funny thing is I looked fine back then. Being too fat was simply something one of my many bad boyfriends made me feel at the time, but it’s something I’ve carried with me ever since. Kinda like a dagger stuck in my heart…

This is so hard, and I’m so discouraged, but maybe facing this head on with full transparency is what will help. I don’t know. Just feeling pretty weepy right about now.

But, I’m not quitting… I will not quit! That thought hasn’t crossed my mind, at any point so far. I don’t think it will. I don’t think the past six weeks were a total loss, and I know miracles don’t happen in that short of a period of time. Just uuuugh. I want to fast forward a few weeks, or reverse several years.

Sigh….

I am trying my darnedest to apply the determination that I easily apply to every other part of my life to this.

51 is a tough age. It isn’t going to get easier. Hormones are gonna start wrecking things for me pretty soon (TMI? LOL) It drives me crazy when people complain about how old they are or feel. I don’t ever want to complain about that. I am just grateful I am relatively healthy and can do this. I’m determined to do this even though I’ve never been an athlete.

I truly didn’t expect miracles in just six weeks. Logically I know I’m in a pretty good place. Emotionally? Well…yeah. How I wish I had done this a few years ago but that just wouldn’t have been possible. My kids are relatively self-sufficient only now. This is what I get for having two of my three kids in my 40s…not exactly the plan early on in life but they are my world, and I will do everything in my power to be here when they are young adults.

I love the my gym family. They are a huge blessing at a time when I really need it because it is so hard to be a cheerleader for me! I am wracked with self-doubt, all the time. I don’t have these conversations like that with anyone but my husband, and then he tries to cheer me up but I completely ignore every word he says. For a brief moment years ago, I had my act together, and then it all came apart and I’ve been picking up the pieces ever since. I hate surviving. Thriving is where I like to live but it’s been a long, long time since I knew that feeling. I don’t even remember the number of times I have admitted, “It all comes down to diet and exercise…The answer to *everything*: diet and exercise.” Countless conversations like that! Get the diet and exercise right for the body and suddenly the other things mind and soul will fall into place too. I’ve been trying to slam the “soul” puzzle piece into a place where it just doesn’t fit. And the mind piece of the puzzle? Well, I’ve lost that one. Lol

I do know my insides are thanking me. It kills me: I totally know the intellectual side of the argument for working out but vanity is talking and taking over at the moment.

And to think I have a daughter! I am trying to be a good role model for her. Then again, she’s a bit of a role model for me with her dancing… And I know this whole thing is far more about health versus looks but dang it, I want to look and feel good about myself again.

CrossFit will be a tougher haul when it comes to weight loss, but I am on this journey for health, flexibility, and strength reasons too. The social aspects of CrossFit are a HUGE bonus I didn’t expect at all. I thought it was a decent possibility at this particular gym (it sure looked like people loved it) but it’s over the top awesome.

I do feel good about my ability to stick with it this time…I just need to get over an immediate hump. The first photo where I don’t look like I have for years will be an incredible win. Then again, two people at work said something to me this week, so apparently I’m finally moving the needle.

Nevertheless, my “why” is bigger than physical look alone. I’m impressed with friends who have made changes of their own, taking charge and going after EXACTLY what they want and getting it. They are such a huge inspiration and I thank them for sharing their victories along the way.

No way am I giving up. I’m very fortunate to be relatively healthy such that I can pull this off. Believe me, I know how fortunate I am, even as I think about people I know dealing with cancer or diabetes diagnoses and other very serious health issues.

I am proud I gave this a go as it was THE most radical thing I could think of. Can’t play it safe any longer. Life is too short for that. And yes, I’m getting a lot of “shocked and awed” responses when I mention I started CrossFit. It is pretty radical but it’s also way more doable that I ever imagined. Believe me, if I can do this, anyone can.

I do feel different, and I’ve had a few of the most crazy productive days at work over the last month..tackling stuff that is intricate – complex – and I feel like I’m killing it. It’s been a long time since I felt that way professionally, so I take that as a NSV (non-scale victory).

I try hard not to compare myself with others. I’m a pretty different kinda chick so that isn’t a meaningful comparison, for starters. I have adhered to the belief that I compete with no one but myself, which is why living the way I have up until this has been particularly tough for me. I was better than my current physical condition many yesterdays ago.

September 24 – Today marks eight weeks I’ve been giving this a go. And you know what? The workouts are starting to get easier. I can’t believe it. I threw more weight on the barbell and I don’t think it was enough. I was almost able to get full depth in my back squat! Wha????  

That’s CRAZY. All this in eight, short weeks? While I still can’t do a full-fledged pull-up, I can mimic the motion and I can do 15 at a time with a small break in between. It doesn’t kill my hands either. Am I actually getting stronger? This is absolutely crazy.

I love it. I’m down almost 10 pounds and people at church who only see me once a week are starting to comment on my progress. I appreciate the outpouring of encouragement. And I can’t wait to go back.

bruno-nascimento-149663-unsplashIt’s almost to the point where three days a week isn’t enough for me. I can’t wait for 6am Wednesday morning for my next class.

Wha???? Did I say that? I’m not even a morning person.

#bonus #onmyway #staytuned

 

Photo credits: kettlebell – Maria Fernanda Gonzalez and shoes – Bruno Nascimento on Unsplash.com

 

A Load of Laundry

New Year’s Eve 2013, I believe it was. At this point we had lived in our house eight years and the last conspicuous evidence of the prior owners was the plaid ivory, pink, blue, and turquoise green wallpaper in our laundry room.

I refused to head into a new year staring at this wallpaper any longer. Down it came in big giant sheets, almost as big as the ones originally hung. It was so easy, so satisfying, to do. The whole exercise took no more than twenty minutes. Keep in mind, my laundry room isn’t tiny…it’s more like a giant walk-in pantry. All I wanted to do was remove the plaid…the fuzzy paper residue that remained on the walls could stay for another time, once I had a chance to score and remove it properly.

You see, when we moved into our house, the entire decor was baby blue and pale pink. A couple lived there before us with their three or four daughters. It always struck me as odd that a house decorated entirely in baby blue and pale pink did not have bedroom closets designed to hang dresses, but to each his own! This house did have a separate two-car garage with a woodshop attached, for the lone man of the house. I suspect he spent a lot of time out there over the years. In any event, I’m not a pastels kind of chick. I tend to gravitate toward warmer, richer colors and classic neutrals.


For me, somewhere in the middle of raising three kids, I put house matters on hold. It took everything I had in me to hold down my job, shuttle the kids around to their activities, deal with schoolwork, pay bills, clean the house, do laundry, you name it. I found that my least favorite activities, and certainly the ones that require a lot of mental energy to start, got put aside. But it was time to make the laundry room beautiful since it felt like I spent all my time there.

I don’t mind doing laundry. Washing, drying, and folding every piece has become a little meditation, a prayer for me. I think of my children wearing these clothes, how much fun they had spilling juice on this shirt or ketchup on that one, how the knees are worn out from playing, which pieces are their favorites such that they show up again and again and again…and eventually there is that last cycle when you realize they’ve outgrown the item in hand, and it’s time to release it to someone else who can use it, someone outside our home.


No kidding, an entire year went by before I got around to cleaning the paper fuzz off the walls, let alone prep them for painting. But eventually I did paint them a cheery peach IMG_4607color, and once I did, I realized I didn’t like the effect. As the mom of three kids, I spend an insane amount of time in that room and it was dreary. It was still crazy dark in that room…it has a whole wall of dark brown cabinets that had been moved from the kitchen and repurposed into the laundry room. The hardware was dusty brass, circa 1980.

I knew it would be a huge effort to pull off, but I decided I had to paint the cabinets white. And if you are shooting for cheery white cabinets, then they need to be cheery white on the side too, especially since that super sticky-tacky contact paper was used to line every last shelf and drawer.

Fast forward. Once in a blue moon I’d have a day free to tackle the paint job. It was tough to pull off because this room was constantly in use, so my painting days had to be full days I could get a lot of it done. Everything had to be hauled out to tackle the painting, and then hauled back in.  Because the laundry room was often in disarray, it became a sort of catch-all room for objects that didn’t have a home. Two years went by before I finally paid someone to paint the cabinets and the walls in a way that I realized I simply didn’t have the time to do. What a relief!

And then it stayed that way for another six months until I could purge my home of all the collected do-dads, reorganize what we would store in the cabinets, paint the trim, hang a shelf and curtains, lay down a rug, and decorate as the final touch. Here are some photos of the finished product.


Over the years, as “incentive” I told myself I could start no new home projects until the laundry room was done. It didn’t really work. Some things just couldn’t wait. Others did, but now I have a massive backlog of stuff that needs repair and updating.

I even took a couple of last-minute vacation days earlier this month to finish the job, once and for all. I posted my photos on Facebook for friends to see, as they had heard about this journey I had been on all these years. Got the requisite oohs and aahs from my photos. I’m proud of my work, my vision for the room, and how it turned out. I love doing laundry in there now. And it has stayed nice and clean ever since.

But the strangest thing about this remodeling journey is this: somewhere along the way of these five years, a load has been taken off my shoulders. I suddenly look at the list of home projects and it doesn’t overwhelm me. I know exactly where all the tools are and whether I have what I need to pull it off, and if I don’t, I head to the hardware store and pickup the few things I need to work the job.

I don’t mind doing the renovation work myself. As a matter of fact, I really love restoring objects to their former beauty or making them better than before. It’s a kind of meditation all unto itself. And believe me, this mom of small kids CRAVED time to meditate.

But now that the load of doing the laundry (room) has been removed, I don’t quite know what to do with myself. The passage of time has hit me a little hard. My children are all five years older. The tiny little knick-knacky toys that are the hallmark of early childhood are slowly being phased out of our house, so they don’t clutter the laundry room anymore. No more bubble stuff, Fisher-Price Little People, lego pieces, Barbie shoes, tempera paint, Play-Doh…. Where did it all go? Wait!? You mean, all that will be left is just….laundry now?

Suddenly doing the laundry is a breeze. There’s tons of counter space to fold and the kids take their clean clothes back to their rooms…and two of the three even do the laundry themselves now.  I need to hang a picture frame? Boom! It’s easy to find the hammer and nail to make it happen. Need an old towel to dry off the patio chairs after a rain? Boom! Easy to spot, easy to grab. Need a dust mop? Same thing.

I can’t figure out whether this room was truly the hub of the house such that whipping it into shape was critical to a well-functioning home or whether the inability to finish the renovation was the giant obstacle getting in the way of other progress in my life. I don’t think this is coincidence.

Who knew that I was really working my way through a load of laundry of a different kind all this time?

#5: Move That Body!

Part of a series of ten segments, checking the progress of my 2017 New Year Resolutions.

You could say I’m more of an indoorsy person. Growing up, you’d find me curled up with a book – like any given volume of an encyclopedia – instead of running or climbing trees outside.

I didn’t learn to ride a bike until I was 12 when a new friend taught me in a neighborhood that wasn’t my own, where no one could see me finally learning a skill many kids pick up at a fraction of that age. You see, throughout grade school, all the other kids had age-appropriate bikes with banana seats, streamers on the handlebars, and training wheels to help them learn. We had an early 1960s, turquoise green, adult-size bike with no training wheels. I couldn’t even lift the thing, let alone have the strength to pedal it and stay upright, but that didn’t matter because no one really took the time to teach me. It just wasn’t important in our family. Besides, I wouldn’t be caught dead riding something that you could have seen on an episode of Happy Days.

I didn’t learn to swim until 13, and I purposefully braved the water in a place far from home for the same reason. This was after a year of laying backwards in the bathtub, nose poking out enough to breathe, just to get used to the feel and muffled sound of water in my ears. Of course, this assumes you can call it swimming, what I do in the water. I can’t really submerge my head without water shooting up my nose no matter how much they tell me to “blow out”. Even if I take a big gulp of air and blow out as instructed, I feel like I’ve exhausted what’s in my lungs, and there’s nothing left to sustain me while I’m submerged. I panic and feel my heart beating outside of my chest. Water and swimming are so unnerving, even to this day.

Growing up, I could not name a single person in my immediate or huge extended family who pursued athletics of any kind, except my brother. It was not our thing as a family. Today I have nieces and nephews and cousins 13+ years younger than me who provide a far better example by running 5ks and half marathons, but as a child, there were virtually no role models for me to turn to. Frankly, my parents scoffed at people who used their leisure time for “play” versus working for real, working at home, or spending time with family.

You can imagine, then, that Phys Ed was not my favorite class in school. Not by a long shot. I was often the slowest kid, severely winded when I ran, a bit uncoordinated when it came to team sports, and not very strong. Now for whatever reason, I was great on a trampoline and with any activity that resembled yoga, but I never connected those to anything I could or should do as an adult. No, I couldn’t wait for public school education to end because in my mind that meant I’d never have to take a gym class again! Woo hoo.

Nobody told me then that life IS gym class. Gosh darn it!

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We humans are body, mind, and soul yet I’ve been perfectly content focusing on the latter two for most of my life.

It isn’t like I haven’t tried as an adult. I’ve had countless gym memberships. I’ve tried running, power walking, weight lifting, Jazzercise, ballet, biking, yoga, dancing, hiking, swimming, basketball, volleyball, and even rowing where I was on a team that actually won a medal. Downright amazing if you ask me!

Of all those activities, only four really stick with me: dancing, hiking, biking, and yoga. Three of those I did as a kid, and one I tried as an adult. Ok, maybe you can count power walking, but I do that just so I’m doing something. I can’t say I love it. I feel great when I’m done, but I don’t love it.

I have loved dancing since I was a little girl. We attended countless weddings while I was growing up, many held at the former St. Joseph’s Elementary School gymnasium in Wolfhurst, Ohio, and I wouldn’t leave the dance floor. I’d be a sweaty mess by night’s end but I loved every second of it. If there was a couples type of dancing, I was game: didn’t matter if it was disco, polka, jitterbug, or whatever. I invited a dancer friend of mine to a Polish wedding in Pittsburgh, and he whipped me around the dance floor in several polkas. It was such a thrill. And I can go to my grave satisfied for having danced a tango once with another semi-professional dancer who had his choice of a roomful of women to ask, but he asked me. It was pretty freaking awesome, let me tell you.

My best friend growing up took all the dance lessons, every kind that was offered. I wanted to badly to do the same but never had the chance. Now I’m a little too self-conscious to hit the dance floor. It’s not like I don’t. I do…there just aren’t many opportunities anymore and I’m well aware of how I look, and I look like crazy middle-aged white lady ought to sit her butt down. Lol

Hiking was another love that I didn’t even realize I had. Again, my best friend growing up lived almost at the top of a big hill, and when the winter weather broke, we’d go for a hike up into the woods and this would go on in the spring, summer, and fall. I had no idea how far we traveled, or whose property we were on. The mere thought of two 10 year old girls hiking alone in the woods today is insanity but it seems you could pull those things off in the 1970s…. Anyway, I never realized how much I enjoyed the sun shining through the trees; the fresh, wet smell of spring; navigating over logs and streams; and just enjoying nature as-is. I enjoy hiking in the woods today even though I don’t have quite the stamina to pull it off.

Biking at 12 was my first real taste of freedom. Once I learned to ride a bike, I could roam all around our neighborhood and I did as often as I could. It seems that every February the weather would break just warm enough where we could whip out our bikes and ride. My friend Stephanie and I would race home after school, and spend what felt like two hours cleaning off the grime of storage and the prior year, inspecting and pumping some air in the tires, and off we went until sunset or dinner time. It was glorious. And I continued to love bike riding until I dated a fearless mountain biker who wanted me to race up and downhill in the woods, even though I didn’t have the strength, confidence, or desire he had. He just made me feel ashamed for being unable to keep up, as if my athletic ability was my most important trait as a human. That guy never appreciated all that I am, which is why he isn’t my husband today.

Which leaves me to yoga. Little did I realize that the hours I spent as a child on my living room floor in various positions was actually yoga but I did it and I loved it. I was getting to where I could do a headstand, and I probably did but I didn’t keep it up the practice much longer after this achievement. This may not sound like much to you, but this is coming from a kid with zero athletic ability. This is a big deal.

Somehow I got reintroduced to yoga as an adult, and loved the slow, quiet, calm, meditative environment that came along with it. There was a time I lived in Omaha, Nebraska, and attended Bikram Yoga classes for a few months until I became too pregnant to continue comfortably.  I could tell I was getting better – stronger and more flexible – with each successive session. Yoga gave me a sense of balance, figuratively and literally, and I surprise people today with the poses I can do.

Now you’d think after all of this self-searching I would have zoomed in on the few activities I actually enjoy and get to where I am strong, and fit, and excel in any of them, but no!  I have never been physically strong. Couple that with my relatively sedentary lifestyle, pseudo-chef husband, and nutrition ignorance, it unsurprisingly gets harder with each passing year.

I mentally know the importance of moving my body. Just move. We’ve heard how sitting is the new smoking, so I even asked for one of those standing desks at work and I’m building up the stamina to stand for a few hours each day. I even got rid of my wastebasket so I’d have to walk to the coffee station to throw away trash…every little bit to get more steps in. I have a hand-me-down Apple watch, and it tracks my steps and nudges me to move and breathe.

All of these little things help – they are me moving in the right direction but not enough and not fast enough. I can’t say that I’m biking, hiking, walking, or dancing more than I have before, and that disappoints me. I don’t want to look back wistfully on my life at all of the things this body was given the health and ability to do AND NOT DO IT.  From a spiritual perspective, that’s not using one of the gifts we’ve been given: a healthy body so our spirit knows what it feels like to USE it.

Now I did attend a couple of yoga sessions this year for the first time in more than a decade and it was amazing to get back into it but something always gets in the way. When I look back on 2017, I’ve got more work to do on this “move more” goal, and make it a priority.

One of my dear friends is a doctor and author who writes books and produces webcasts on being a master’s (over 40) athlete and how important and possible it is to stay active, healthy, and vital well into our senior years. She writes these books and I swear it’s like she’s writing them for ME. She doesn’t of course, but it feels that way. I am often ashamed and embarrassed at how little I follow her advice, and I feel like she knows it, so I’ve kinda sorta avoided her because I’m insecure that way! lol I want her to be proud of me for turning my physical health around, but more than that, I want to be proud of me. I want my husband and kids to be proud. I want to be around for them in 20-30-40 years and do stuff with them. All the stuff. I want to be strong, flexible, and more lean, with energy levels to the sky.

Look for more on this in 2018.