Category Archives: Exercise

The Directive


It was like my own version of Fight Club.

Me, fighting with myself about everything.

Every decision was up for negotiation.

Every boundary was ripe for a breach.

I was indecisive.

I knew this about myself, and yet sometimes I would still need the reminder.

Some days it was easy to be strong, because some days I didn’t want ice cream at all. But other days?

Other days, it was all I could think about.

And it was on those days that the conversation would go like this:

-No. (Very firmly stated)

-Well….maybe just a bite.

-Ok, yes, but just a single serving.

-I will stop when I’m full.

-I can’t stop. (Why can’t I stop?)

-I’ll start again tomorrow.

-Why didn’t I just say no? (oh wait, I did)

-Why did I not follow through when I first said no? (I wish I knew)

-Tomorrow I will say no (and follow through)

****and repeat from top****

But I was never specific about how I was going to achieve that. I never set a well thought out plan in place to facilitate that outcome. I invariably left myself twisting in the wind with a destination, and no route mapped out to get me there.

And I found out that if I gave myself an inch, I would take a mile.

I needed to stop treating what needed to be done as “optional”. Continue reading The Directive

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The Legendary Saga of Brokebutt Mountain

It had started out innocently enough.

“Let’s go tubing,” they said, “it’ll be fun,” they said…

Liars.

That mountain became my nemesis.

That mountain humbled me.

That mountain gave me a reality check.

I went in there with a head full of fun and frolic, and I left with a limp, a whimper, and a cracked tailbone.

The night had begun uneventfully enough, with a fierce quest for adventure and winter time thrills.

I had never once considered the dangers. Especially since I had gone tubing before, and enjoyed it quite a bit.

I had also dipped my toe in many another endeavor without pause. I had skydived, and zip-lined, and navigated the roaring whitewater rapids in a raft…

I had jumped in headfirst into so many an adventure, that a night out tubing at the pass seemed harmless.

Not so.

We had arrived to find a bit of a snow/rain mix, and everyone was scrambling for the tubes, and rushing to catapult themselves down the icy hill into oblivion. So I grabbed the first one I could get my hands on, and quickly got in line.

The first time down, I definitely felt the rush. It was pretty slick due to the dense snow pack, and the light rain had added an invisible layer of slippery ice. But the tube I had chosen was a bit over inflated, and since I couldn’t nestle securely down into in it, I felt a bit vulnerable. And as I was going down the hill, I felt as though the tiniest bump might bounce me out of my vessel.

I furiously clung to the handles for dear life, and white knuckled it all the way to the bottom. Like a bolt of white lightning, I had rocketed to the base of the run.

And my very first thought after reaching the bottom of the hill, was that I needed to trade in my tube for a better one. 

A safer one.

But what I did not know then, was, that decision would drastically change the next ten months of my life… Continue reading The Legendary Saga of Brokebutt Mountain

A Tale of Two Races


Originally it started with “I won’t…”.

Because I thought, “I won’t fail if I don’t try.”

“I won’t be dissapointed if I don’t expect anything.”

And since I did not aspire to prove myself correct, I told myself I could not. And that is how it became, “I can’t…”.

And I was stuck in “I can’t…”.

Until, Type 2 Diabetes came into my life, and gave me, my “I should…”.

And there I was, in conflict with myself.

The “I should..” brought yearning and expectations of action.

The “I should…” made me uneasy.

The “I should…” brought with it a nagging need to do the impossible.

So I cautiously began to entertain the idea.

And when I started out on this journey, it was with the sole intention of transforming my body.

But, I did not, however, expect to be led down a parallel path, that would teach me the importance of also transforming my mind.

And eventually, I was to be brought to a place, where I would discover, that in doing both simultaneously, I had completely transformed my life.

These two races were the markers of that evolution.

These two races were the beginning and the end of that internal transformation.

But here, at the beginning of this tale, it all began with the “I should…”. Continue reading A Tale of Two Races

The Care and Feeding of My Fitbit


There is a monkey on my wrist.

And its called a Fitbit.

I have owned a Fitbit for a little over a year now, and sometimes, I wonder, if I actually own it, or if it really owns me.

Its kind of a symbiotic relationship.

Yes, I said relationship.

Because it has ceased to be a “thing” in my life, and become my technology created companion, a virtual cheerleader, and a finger wagging busybody. 

It is an all around ever aware conscience that follows me EVERYWHERE, and… I feel grateful.

What???

Yes, grateful.

It holds me accountable, and nudges me to push a little bit harder. It gives me a competitive edge, and for that, I am grateful.

But, as a byproduct, it has irrevocably changed my life, and the way I live it.

Gone are the couch potato days of yore, when I could sit quite happily for hours.

Gone is my urge to sit in a waiting room, or park close to the mall entrance.

Adios to seeing the world from a stationary vantage point, and hello to “let’s walk, I need my steps anyway”.

Back in the day, when I was 25, I was going out to clubs in my mini skirt, happily drinking wine coolers, and anticipating the impending alcohol induced “buzz” that was to follow.

And now? Continue reading The Care and Feeding of My Fitbit

The Zoomies


I couldn’t sit still.

I was restless, and aflutter.

As a formerly docile creature, I had found myself amidst a revolution of epic proportions.

I had somehow lost my sense of foreboding, and somewhere along the line, a fearless lion-hearted woman had slipped into my skin.

I was feeling sassy, and brave, and completely out of my depth.

Something had awakened within. Something that had “danger” as its middle name…

Oh, don’t get me wrong, I’m no stranger to living on the edge.

I mean, I’ve jay walked…

I’ve torn tags off of mattresses that clearly read “DO NOT REMOVE”.

I’ve been a risk taker.

I’ve worn Crocs when NO ONE thought it was a good idea.

I’ve done some pretty crazy things in my day.

There were even times when I would return videotapes to Blockbuster without even rewinding them….on purpose.

Oh yeah. I was a rebel. A wildcard. A renegade.

Throwing caution to the wind back in the day resulted in me wearing white after Labor Day, on several occasions, and not caring who saw me.

I have tasted the thrill of being an outlaw running afoul of the fashion police.

Common sense, and sensible shoes be damned!

Sometimes, when the door would say ‘pull’ …I would push…and I would push hard.

I didn’t care. I was oblivious to the consequences. I can’t tell you how many times I blatantly ignored the easy way, and did things the hard way- for absolutely no reason whatsoever.

But now?

Now I had upped the ante, and literally flung myself off the deep end into some pretty wild adventures.

I had taken it to the next level.

It was officially official…I had a bad case of the zoomies. Continue reading The Zoomies

The Curious Migration of the North American Gym Rat

image from @GymRatMemes
The gym.

I had driven past it every day on my way home.

I wasn’t ready yet, but I was going to go in there…someday….

Well, at least that’s what I told myself.

Up until this point, the farthest I’d gotten was the parking lot.

Okay, that’s not entirely true. I did make it to the front desk exactly one time, but I didn’t really count that as “going in”, since it was the very first time, and afterwards I had never darkened its doorstep again.

What were they all doing in there?

I had ridiculous visions of them all gathered around the weight benches, fist bumping each other, grunting, and pumping iron.

I was not an athletic person by any means, and I certainly could not imagine that I would ever be a person that would drive to this place happily, on purpose, and walk into those doors to be subjected to what ever exhaustive regimen or exercise in futility that awaited me.

But every once in a while, I would get sassy, wrestle myself into my workout clothes, and drive there, with inspired intentions, and there I would sit, in the parking lot, watching everyone going in and out.

What did they know that I did not?

Why did all of those people look so determined to be there?

And why was it was all I could do to drag myself to the parking lot and then try trick to myself into going inside?

I felt like there were some big secret that everyone knew about the gym, that if I drove there enough times, I would figure out. Like I would have some sort of moment of clarity, or an true epiphany…or a maybe a paranormal psychic vision.

And if not, sooner or later, I thought, I was going to get out of the car and march right in there and find out.

But today was not that day.

Today, I still had too many excuses to offer myself, only one of which was the fact that my Caramel Macchiato was still hot. I had paid five dollars for that tasty distraction, so I wasn’t just going to leave it in the car to get cold while I went into the gym…

Hell no, that was just crazy talk.

But I admit, I was curious.

Continue reading The Curious Migration of the North American Gym Rat