My A.M.

I woke up in the middle of the night for my typical bathroom break, (I have the bladder of a toddler), and was absolutely convinced it was only 2am.  I needed a couple more hours of sleep for the sake of my sanity and my 6am clients.
I was wrong.
I looked at the clock and 4:10 screamed at me like a freight train.
I felt horrible and about had a meltdown right then and there.
This is often how my day begins.  People ask me if I'm a "morning person", and if that means getting up before majority of mankind but not socially functional for at least a couple of hours and 16oz of coffee later,...then yes, I am a morning person.

But when I think of a "morning person" I naturally think of Sparkles.
That woman is a mini-nightmare first thing in the morning.  And by nightmare, I mean an absolute ray of sunshine, glitter, and everything else that might piss off a pessimist before 9am.  If I had a dollar for every time she greeted me with a song at 6am during high school I could have paid her to stop and had enough left over to fund my candy addiction.
It was unbelievable.
All that to say, I am often in rare form prior to the daily gym experience...

Today was another day in paradise.
People are starting to hit the 'ol wall in regards to New Years resolutions and plans to "eat healthy" and "get in shape".  Motivation seems to be fading, and instead of buckling down, I am amazed by the number of people who will so quickly fall back into poor habits before I basically have to threaten their life not to.
Come on folks.
Its been one month, and its an ongoing process.
Yes, you will slip up, yes sometimes will be harder than others.  That's life.  Move on and move forward.
It wasn't one day that got you out of shape, and it won't be one day that gets you back in.  Ask yourself what am I doing TODAY that will get me where I want to go?  One step at a time, and don't make it bigger than it has to be for where you are.

*  *  *
It dawned on me today that in 5 months I will be 30.
This sounds much older than 29, and I'm not sure how I feel about it.  Although I did have someone think I was 18 last week.  I didn't know whether or not to thank him or throat-punch him for being creepy on someone he assumed was recently able to vote.
Eh....I laughed, said thanks, and then forgave him for the creepy part...

Aaaanndd I'm done.  Totally wiped out.  If I wake up by accident 5 minutes before my alarm again tomorrow morning you just might see me on the news.
Hump day awaits, night folks....

Rashes and Goodbyes...

6:15 on a Friday morning and I did about all the sleeping-in I could do.
Pretty pitiful.
The coffee pot was calling my name.  So I answered.

It was a long week to say the least, but I lived to tell about it.  Yesterday was chaotic, and I am still recovering from my workout-rash.
I should probably explain this...
I left my workout clothes in the gym's washer the day before to simply have them ready to roll for yesterday's sweat session.  Well, when it came time to lift, I'd forgotten to put the damp clothes/towels in the dryer when I first got there.
They were soggy so there was no way I could put them on yet.
So I started my arm-assault with my work clothes I had on.  Running tights, under armour long-sleeve top, and a t-shirt over top.  This proved to be a horrible idea.
At one point during my pull-downs, I could literally feel myself getting a rash from all the seams under my arms.  Its one thing to push through a tired muscle and fatigue, I get that, I'm ok with that.  But to be rubbing myself raw for the sake of a bicep pump felt ridiculous.
Longest 4 sets of my life.

Dear under armour,
If the top costs more than $50, I feel slightly entitled to a rash-free experience.  It burns to put on deodorant.  This is not normal.  Thank you.

It didn't end there though.
After I lifted, I had to get in some cardio.  There was no way I could do it in my current skin-irritated-and-red-about-to-rip-my-shirt-off-in-anger state, so I had to change clothes.
My clothes were still not completely dry, but I had to get this done to head to an appointment, so there I was putting on damp spandex.
Aside from severe seam-rubbage, damp spandex ranks a close second on the horrible list.  And actually getting in it is like shoving a honey baked ham in a tube sock.
My thighs were rebelling.
The treadmill experience was not exactly favorable conditions, but I finished, and threw those clothes back in the washer like the angry, rash-covered meathead I was.
Needless to say, today's workout will be interesting.  I won't be shocked if I come out of there with hives and a few blood stains.

Onto better things...
This was Garrett's last week, and I cannot believe its already been over a year.  He was a huge contributor to the entire ActivEdge experience, and I know clients will miss him dearly.
Personally, I will miss looking over a workout program and asking him why its the third time he's spelled "run" with 2 n's.
We are not winning any spelling competitions over there, but damn if we don't have some awesome people.
Thank you Garrett, for everything.
You have great things ahead of you, none of which involve grammatical perfection....you're built like an ox, you'll survive. :)

Well folks, time to get this day rolling.
A couple golfers, a solid workout, some emails,...here we go....

A Little Vom...

Mondays I'm good.
Tuesdays its like Monday is still holding me down and beating me.
Needless to say, I struggled my way through the majority of the last 15 hours.  Pooped.

To say I have to drag myself to start my workout on Tuesday is an understatement.  Yes, believe it or not, I do not love every second of it or run to the treadmill like a moth to a flame.
The flame kills the moth, and on most days prior to noon, I am convinced the treadmill just might do me in.
I live to tell about it.
Amazing.
In moments like that, I personally cannot sit there and motivate myself through positive self-talk.  Ha, no, I definitely bypass all of the encouragement, turn my brain off, and move.  Embrace the suck and keep moving.
The more I think about it, the more likely I am to have Garrett in a a judo move mid-workout out of pure anger and frustration.  Which is fine, if I were a ninja.  Unfortunately, I am not.
Sometimes we can get completely lost in the dread of the struggle, that we lose sight of the accomplished feeling at the end.  When that becomes insignificant along the journey, motivation will naturally decrease.  Do yourself a favor and bask in the successful feeling, then release it and anticipate the next.  Because there are times when the only thing remotely motivating is knowing its almost over and you didn't stop until you were truly finished.

Speaking of being done...
I think I reached a new low today when I literally watched someone vomit in a towel and continued to eat my chicken.
Apparently it takes more than a few chunks for me to lose my appetite.  And the fact that this did not bother me, bothers me. 
The best was the day a kid projectile vomited eggs and orange juice.  That one got a little messy.
I can't say its never happened to me.  Tis life.

Happy feet came in today.
He secretly likes to come in during Kelly and Michael so he can get on the treadmill and watch the show....not sure who he likes more, Kelly or Michael.
He wore sweat pants, 2 shirts, and a sweatshirt like he was training for the next Rocky.  There was no stopping him, but he didn't miss a beat talking to everyone mid-jog like the determined Wal-mart-greater-of-life he is. 

Way to go dad.

Whew, ok time for bed.  I can hardly think straight.
Big day tomorrow.
Get your mind right.

Everyday I'm Shuffln'...

I didn't listen to my body today.
Now I am paying for it.
I was exhausted, worn down, looked like a UFC victim, but still wanted to enjoy the weather....so I stupidly went to Duke to run.
It took literally 14 seconds into my jog before I knew I would be doing the handicapped-shuffle by the end.  I had developed lead-weight cankles overnight and was hating life.  I learned my lesson, and shut it down after about 30 minutes.
Tomorrow, no cardio, all weights.  Thank you God.

Speaking of the weather...
Help me understand the need to immediately start stripping off clothes mid-January when its above 50 degrees.
Its not June.
This is not Spring Break 2013.
Pants are your friend right now.  Embrace them.  For the love of God put them back on.
And if its cold enough to wear Uggs with the shorts, ITS TOO COLD FOR THE SHORTS.  Its like wearing a muff on the beach.
You look ridiculous.
Sunday night fashion 101.  You're welcome.

New work week tomorrow.
I've got several newbies starting their journey, and I'm eager to rip their nutrition habits apart.  Ha,...that sounds horrible.  BUT, I say that because I love for people to get to that place where they feel better, healthier, and that fuels the cycle to continue.
Very cool.
Make a change for the better starting tomorrow.  Throw out those bonbons that are sitting in the pantry.  Drink more water.  The list could be endless.
But let one habit/change be the catalyst for another.
Progression.
Improvement.
Press forward.

Alright folks, I'm pooped and need to prepare for Monday.  Make it great.

Aging....and Still Laughing

Its 6:20am.
If I ask myself right now if I honestly feel like doing my cardio, as my hands are sweating all over the keys from my coffee and my face still looks like I lost a fight in my sleep, the answer is an obvious "no".
Which is why I've learned never to ask myself anything within the first 45 minutes of waking.
My best friend could ask me for a kidney, and at any other point in my day I'd probably perform the surgery right there by myself.  However, if the request comes prior to coffee, I'm likely to refuse it and then offer a few sarcastic remarks instead.  As if its some type of consolation prize.
Its not.
It actually makes me a horrible human being upon waking.

Nonetheless, cardio will get done and I can go on about my day.
Its been a hectic week, and I think I've aged about 5 years since last Saturday at this time.  Which would make me a whopping 34.
I'd like to think that at some point between now and that actual time, I'd stop laughing at farts and people falling down.
I honestly see no end to it.
Still funny.

The work week was hectic with Garrett gone.
He was in CA training for his new job,....yes, he will be officially gone in less than 2 weeks.  I don't want to talk about it.
My right arm is being ripped off, and I want to beat him with it.
Nothing says "Good luck with your new career and life" like a going-away beating. 
He'll continue to train on the side, but I just hate that he cannot do it full-time.  He has the "it" factor when it comes to training that is simply not teachable.
He will be missed to say the least.
Now I have to break-in the next trainer....its like hazing, but not.  I guess there's no true way to prepare someone for me and dozens of personalities 40+ hours a week.
Strap on a helmet and get your mind right.

Well, its about that time.
Cardio needs to get done so I can go about the rest of my day.  Have a great weekend folks.
Keep pressing forward.

Tight Bras and Coffee Gifts

It was 10am and my body could have sworn it was almost bedtime.  I was yawning like 11th grade English class, and would have napped on a sweaty bench, mat, whatever.  (No offense Mrs. Brock, but asking me to read anything 20 minutes post-lunch and not fall asleep is pretty much like asking me not to be myself).  Underachieving 17 year old reader.  Shocking.
So there I was venting to a young athlete about what I wouldn't give for some liquid awesomeness in a cup (coffee of course).  I was ready to inject it at that point.
It wasn't 5 minutes later, and in walks Lora holding 16 ounces of that black beauty and hands it to me.  God smiled on me in that moment.
Smiled, and then gave me caffeine.
I'm fairly certain that after He fed the 5000, He handed out shots....of espresso.  Then said, "Boom.  You're welcome you heathens."
Happy Tuesday to me.

I welcomed a newbie aboard the Meredith-freight today.
She was initially discouraged and kept apologizing for sucking wind and being "so out of shape."  This amazes me, and happens quite often during an initial session.  Believe me, I am a realist when it comes to this stuff.  If you haven't worked out in years and are 70+ pounds overweight, I expect it to feel hard.  THAT'S OK.  Use it as motivation to keep moving forward.  Don't apologize to me, just refuse to give in to any temptation to quit simply because its hard.  Guess what?  It will be harder the next time you start over.  Buck up.  Dare to imagine life different than how you know it right now.
Then go.

My own workouts have been pretty solid lately.  I had back and core today....probably need to take it easy on the pull-ups.
My sports bras are getting tighter and its not because of growth from the front.
Good thing I didn't start holding my breath at age 12 waiting on the 'ol growth spurt.  I would have definitely passed out by 2005.
Great workout today though, no complaints.

Ok, time for bed.
Hump day awaits folks.
Game time.

Parking Lot Battles

Broccoli, peas, chicken, and cottage cheese.
Pretty much a bowl of awesome....that looks like vom.

Speaking of food, I went to Whole Foods this weekend, and while I like their produce and assortment of foods, I nearly lose my religion every time I go.
It begins in the parking lot.
Whoever decided it was a grand idea to put approximately 12 parking spaces in front of a busy grocery store deserves a choke hold every morning around 9am in front of the 78 cars looking for a spot.  I drive around in circles and then find myself paralyzed watching a Prius and Neon battle for a parking space made for a tonka truck. 
I usually pull for the neon. 
What can I say, I was a big fan of 1992.
Point is, I've pretty much lost my mind by the time I've entered the store.

Then I get in there and am in rare form for the next 9 minutes as I fly through there like a mad woman.  Saturday I was standing by the eggs, and was literally reaching for the door when a woman swarmed in like batman, jumped in front of me, and then proceeded to check 24 straight eggs one by one before moving. 
Horrible human.  I hope at least 3 of them rot tonight.
You can imagine my patience was spent by this point.
But the experience is capped off when I get the look of death in the checkout line.  I don't have reusable bags, but you would have thought I covered the place in styrofoam peanuts while prancing around with aerosol cans.
I can assure you that looking at me like I just torched Yosemite doesn't inspire me to pack the 'ol canvas totes.
Ah, anyway...that was my Saturday.

Its past 10 and I haven't even delved into fitness stuff.  More to come tomorrow.
I wiped myself out venting about my Whole Foods experience.
Unbelievable.
Night folks.

Smoked Salmon and Crappy Thoughts

I just completely smoked out my kitchen trying to cook salmon.
Place looks like a war zone with the stench of a fish market.
Great way to cap off a Wednesday.

There are some days which last 24 hours, and others that seem to creep up to 36 and then practically beat the crap out of you by 3pm.
Yep, one of those days.
'Tis life...you roll on...

My workouts have been pretty solid lately, but I've got to get back into my cardio.  Yes, I do it, but I'm not liking it more than I usually don't like it....which means I pretty much loath it.  Not good. 
You cardio queens out there are nuts in my book.  The only thing I envy is being able to buy shoes more often.  Other than that, nothing.
"'Bitter',...Party of one."
Eh...

On a random note, I've had some of the best/strangest conversations this week, and I honestly wish I had a recorder with me on a daily basis.
When someone begins with "Meredith, I thought of you the other day when...", not going to lie I've learned to keep my expectations low.  Generally, it has to do with working out or eating healthy, etc.  This makes sense.
But when its followed by "...I was on the toilet, and...", I'm a little thrown off.  Don't get em wrong, I can appreciate a good bowel movement.  However, either way that's your time.  Keep me out of it.
I'd rather be thought of when you're not also regretting the breakfast burrito at the same time. 
Thank you.

Speaking of burritos. (Like that transition)
I received a text the other night about speaking to a family member regarding their weight/health.  I know this can be a touchy subject, but let me see if I can offer some insight....

We often throw this idea of voicing concern for someone's health/weight in the same category as verbal abuse.  Paralyzed by fear of their response, we say nothing and continue to watch them basically destroy their body.  And for what?  To avoid the possibility that they just might get upset because, shocker, they are uncomfortable and desire change but simply lack motivation or direction?!  Guess what,...you CANNOT control their response.  Sure, they may get mad.  Fine.  But it may also be the spark they needed to get moving.
Its amazing to me that we can address substance abuse with tough love and such assertiveness, and yet when it comes to food/weight we're so afraid of offending someone.  Let me throw out a novel idea...
There comes a point when "unhealthy" is not an opinion.
The greatest thing we can do for one another is live in truth, encourage health in all aspects of life, and then live it out ourselves.
Perhaps our greatest fear should be the result of not saying anything.

And for those on the receiving end,...
Consider for a moment the courage it takes to address a very sensitive topic.  Hear them out, and try to understand why they might bring it up. 

Tough stuff...

Well, I'm still swimming in a smog of salmon.  Poor Oscar is losing his mind.
Another hump day in the books.
Night folks.
 

Happy Feet's Gym Debut

My morning started off with an a.m. freakout.
I woke up not knowing what day it was, if I was running late, why Oscar was not gnawing off the door whining for food,...the usual stuff people ponder at 4am.
When it hit me that it was Monday I calmed down, and practically counted the minutes until my coffee.
Story of my life.

I had the honor of training Happy Feet (aka my dad) at 9:30 this morning.
I decided it wasn't fair that Sparkles be the only one with an appropriate nick-name, thus I was forced to give one to dad.
I call him this because the man honestly walks into a room looking as if he might break into a jig at any moment.  Its not really a walk, or prance, or dance,...its a strange combination of all 3.  And combined with his apparent need to greet everyone like he's wearing an orange vest at a Wal-mart entrance, its quite a site... 
Remember in the movie Jungle Book how Mowgli sort of moves around like you can't tell if its an actual dance move, if he's slightly intoxicated, or if he's about to have dysentery from the coconut milk,....Well, that's my dad.  All the time.  Mall.  Gym.  Family event.  Doesn't matter....so freak'n happy.  He and Sparkles are quite the combo...
(We also call him the Creeper, but I don't like having to explain that one to folks for obvious reasons, so we'll stick with Happy Feet).
You're welcome dad.

Honestly, he did great.  He turns 59 in a couple of months and reminded that numerous times as I corrected his form and told him to squat like he means it.  59,...89,...whatever, if you can do it, do it proudly.
Great family bonding time.

This is short tonight because I am pooped and still have a phone call to make.  Why they let me engage in human conversation after 8pm is beyond me...
Tomorrow is onward and upward.
I am scheduled to get my car fixed.  Thank God.
Duct tape, you've served me well........again....

My Own Trench

There are only so many times one can crawl through the backseat of a car like a ninja before contemplating slashing the tires out of frustration.
Yes, I am still rocking the duct tape on my car like the class act I am.  Thus, I cannot open the driver side door.
I am hating life as a commuter.
If your door works, I'm not too fond of you right now either.

The looks I receive in parking lots are almost worth the trouble.
On some level I know they enjoy the fact that while they might be rocking a '94 Pontiac, at least there was no adhesive on it.  Meanwhile, I'm over there trying to avoid injury crawling through a mitz like its a dern war trench.
Unbelievable.

It was a busy weekend in the inbox.
Numerous updates from clients and surprisingly similar themes with the females.
Here's the million dollar question: WHY do we have the screwed up perception that we must suffer every minute while eating healthy/losing weight?!  That is ridiculous.
The extent to which you "suffer" does not dictate your success.  In fact, I would say that the greater perceived anguish, the more likely a person is to regress to previous habits.
The whole point of it is to establish healthy habits and a lifestyle that is sustainable beyond a few shed pounds.
This is why I emphasize figuring out what works for YOU.  No two nutrition plans I draw up look alike because everyone's goals, personality, emotional relationship with food, past food experiences, activity levels, and genetics are different.
It's a personal journey for everyone, and each path looks different.

It's Monday folks.
Make it great.

Universal Poo...

I called mom on the way home and told her the universe took a dump on me today.
It was one of those moments you really didn't want to repeat yourself, but apparently she wanted clarification and responded with "Wait, the universe or university?!"
As if it matters which one.
It doesn't.
Still poo mom....still poo...
I kept driving.
Needless to say it was a long day.

It was back to the grind today after a few days of vacation, and the new years drive was out in full force.  People refocused, energized, and ready to roll with getting healthy.
Speaking of, I didn't make it to midnight new years eve.  So those of you who bet the "under" on that, accurate prediction.
I was yawning at 9 and down for the count at 11:15.  Unreal.  I figured the ball already dropped over the Atlantic somewhere, so I was good.
Onward to 2013.


Many people asked me what my own New Years resolution was, and as I said before, I'm usually not big into them, BUT I adopted one for this year.
To live intentionally...
 - Deciding where I want to go, and GOING full force....whether its in training, relationships, career, etc...
There is power in personal initiative to move forward....and there is also power in fear of moving if we submit ourselves to it.  We ultimately decide which is greater, and its not necessarily a one time choice.  Its daily decisions that either take us where we desire to go, or become the bricks for the wall surrounding us.
Either we move or we don't.
Our choice.
Everyday.

On that note, I need to move myself over to wash the dishes and head to bed.
Big day ahead,....hopefully free of any universal bowel movements...