I started on this journey several months ago, and I must say that it has really been a game changer. I feel better, so much better. It is really nice to look in the mirror and see my reflection and think "I haven't changed much" and then someone come along and comment on how toned you look, or that they can tell a difference.
My secret is that I took this journey seriously. I hit the gym every chance I got. In the beginning I was doing RIPPED three or four times a week. Now I have it down to where Mondays are either a free day, or a strength class, or maybe Zumba. Tuesday is RIPPED in the morning, while school is out and I am busy with the kids, I won't be picking up an extra class in the evenings. Wednesday is Strength, Thursday Zumba, Friday RIPPED. I hold myself accountable. I make myself get up each and every day and go. As I am struggling with the workout I repeat in my head "This will make my arms look great, my butt will look awesome" It helps!
When my Mother-In-Law arrived and started gushing over my tight butt and slimmer figure, I knew I had partially achieved my goal. When my husband saw me for the first time in eight months, it was confirmed. All the sweating had paid off.
Since I began my journey I have become stronger. I can now do regular Burpees, and not the modified ones. It was a struggle to achieve this goal. My next goal is to master regular pushups and not modified. This is one that I am struggling with, but I know I can do this. Like the Instructor says "It is mind over body"
I encourage all of my readers to get up and get fit. I began this journey as a little fluffy and now I have gained muscle and lost about six pounds.
Another thing that assisted me was joining Advocare. This is a health and wellness company that a lot of professional athletes use. The idea is that using their supplements you also change your bad habits to good ones. I began with the 24 day Challenge. The first ten days were a cleanse. This helps you stop eating the bad things, and to kick coffee. I lost most of my weight during those ten days. I was worried because I landed in Hawaii on my 11th day. But somehow I actually lost a pound while on vacation. I strongly believe this is due to the supplements I was taking before my meals.
I know that I have a lot of improvement on my body size, and I know that through continued dedication I can do this. An example of my dedication is that while my husband was home on leave, I still woke up every morning to hit the gym. It was my goal and he encouraged me.
I am so thankful for my health and the ability to workout and while working out making great friends.
Thursday, June 30, 2016
Wednesday, June 29, 2016
With Much Trepadition
Looming large on the horizon is a trip I know I must take. It is not one that I desire to take, not one that I am sure will be tranquil. No, instead it is more likely to be harsh. Even under a warm summer sun, there are some hearts that cannot be thawed.
My mother is such a person.
Not many warm fuzzy memories spring to mind when I think back on my childhood. A ringing begins in my ears, just as her shrill screaming used to do. The noise in that house was unending. Always a radio, a television, her voice.
Now as an adult I prize silence. I cannot bear to have a television on while I am talking to someone, especially if it is an important conversation. If the radio should play sad songs, then I am eager to change the station. The unending whining of a country song is enough to drive me to madness. Again memories linked to growing up on skyline drive.
The anger could burn you alive. The strife could bring you to your knees. The hurt left you bleeding, crying out in a never ending darkness for help that would never come. Bruises and a broken heart stayed with me all the days of my childhood.
In all of the madness when I was fighting to stay above the water, I pushed away the one person that could have been my friend. My sister and I were living in the same house, but we were never close. Our mother drove us apart with her words and actions. As we grew older I shunned my sister. I eventually abandoned her in the by then always empty house. This is one of my biggest regrets.
I am damaged, yet I persist.
I am hurt, yet I close the wounds as best I can.
My heart was shattered long before any man stepped in to further crush the shards.
Memories are like constant movies. Always replaying scenes from most of my life. They leave me reeling from the shock that I was once this other person. I cannot shake free the chains that my memories have become. I fear that in my older years I may be permanently trapped in the halls of yesterday. Those halls are not always clean or cheery or fun. More often than not they are covered in vomit or semen or echoes of anger.
It is hard to come to terms with who I am compared to who I was. I was very often a hateful, spiteful, vengeful person. How have I come to this place that I now stand?
And like a dutiful daughter I will make this pilgrimage to see my mother. My mother who has let reality slip away. Who remains confused and convinced she was really doing her best. She couldn't help it, never thought to seek out help. Or even better, what about all those close family friends that turned a blind eye?
I will take my youngest two kids into a situation that I have no idea how it will go. Like an improve actress, I will try to follow the ever changing script. To conquer and prevail with a cheerful manner and warm tone. When really on the inside I am still that little girl who doesn't understand why her mother hates her so.
My mother is such a person.
Not many warm fuzzy memories spring to mind when I think back on my childhood. A ringing begins in my ears, just as her shrill screaming used to do. The noise in that house was unending. Always a radio, a television, her voice.
Now as an adult I prize silence. I cannot bear to have a television on while I am talking to someone, especially if it is an important conversation. If the radio should play sad songs, then I am eager to change the station. The unending whining of a country song is enough to drive me to madness. Again memories linked to growing up on skyline drive.
The anger could burn you alive. The strife could bring you to your knees. The hurt left you bleeding, crying out in a never ending darkness for help that would never come. Bruises and a broken heart stayed with me all the days of my childhood.
In all of the madness when I was fighting to stay above the water, I pushed away the one person that could have been my friend. My sister and I were living in the same house, but we were never close. Our mother drove us apart with her words and actions. As we grew older I shunned my sister. I eventually abandoned her in the by then always empty house. This is one of my biggest regrets.
I am damaged, yet I persist.
I am hurt, yet I close the wounds as best I can.
My heart was shattered long before any man stepped in to further crush the shards.
Memories are like constant movies. Always replaying scenes from most of my life. They leave me reeling from the shock that I was once this other person. I cannot shake free the chains that my memories have become. I fear that in my older years I may be permanently trapped in the halls of yesterday. Those halls are not always clean or cheery or fun. More often than not they are covered in vomit or semen or echoes of anger.
It is hard to come to terms with who I am compared to who I was. I was very often a hateful, spiteful, vengeful person. How have I come to this place that I now stand?
And like a dutiful daughter I will make this pilgrimage to see my mother. My mother who has let reality slip away. Who remains confused and convinced she was really doing her best. She couldn't help it, never thought to seek out help. Or even better, what about all those close family friends that turned a blind eye?
I will take my youngest two kids into a situation that I have no idea how it will go. Like an improve actress, I will try to follow the ever changing script. To conquer and prevail with a cheerful manner and warm tone. When really on the inside I am still that little girl who doesn't understand why her mother hates her so.
When it Was Just Us part II
What happens when two parents find themselves alone in Hawaii? Well, besides the obvious, they need to eat! The hubby is like a food critic. He loves to eat. Trying out a new restaurant is a must for him. He used to be a waiter and he loves to cook, combine those traits and you have a very picky eater. Not picky as in selective, but picky on how he rates the food. I'm the one who is a little leery of trying new foods. I tend to be the picky eater. This time we were in Hawaii and the opportunities to try new foods were endless.
This is Hubby eating with me for the first time in many moons. As you can tell his food at his current place of residence overseas isn't very pleasing for him, thus why he looks way too skinny. Our first meal in Hawaii was a place called the Mexico. The food was good and we found ourselves eating there on numerous occasions.
We also tried a really cool Taco place close to the North Shore. Hubby had tacos, I had a Tortuga and a tamale. The food was actually pretty good and most of it was made fresh while you wait.
A little further around the North Shore we found this taco truck. Hubby said that he didn't think these were very good. I ate with him out of love, I really wanted to eat lemon garlic shrimp from another truck. The pineapple fruity drink was really very tasty!
My first taste of Indian food was from a food truck. It was very tasty. This only made hubby want Indian food even more.
With help of Google Hubby was able to find a very authentic Indian restaurant. It wasn't very big and perfect for a couple eating without kids in tow. I really enjoyed watching the Indian Music Channel they had on. The plates were heaping, so you got a good amount of food for the price. It was very rich with flavor. I thought it was almost sweet. After eating at the restaurant the second time, which included leftovers in the hotel room twice, I couldn't eat any more.
I was glad to try Indian food with the Hubby.
We also ate at the beach a couple of times. Mostly just Subway, but twice from a Shrimp food truck.
We even ate at a Thailand restaurant. Another first for me. It was pretty good. I could certainly eat it again.
One day we ate at a Chili's, which was something else that my Hubby was craving. We even went to an upscale mall on the beach in Waikiki and grabbed lunch from the food court. It was really nice. This entire vacation was a true blessing.
Sunday, June 19, 2016
When it Was Just Us Part I
By some miracle my husband and I recently found ourselves in Hawaii alone. The circumstances that lead us there were outlined in a previous post. But ultimately by God's own grace we ended up there alone without the kids. This is a look at us, nothing spectacular, just us goofing off and enjoying a long overdue honeymoon. 
One evening at the hotel, I even decided to visit the workout room. In addition to that, I practiced holding plank several nights and working on burpees.
We even saw Elvis!
The Rainbows were Amazing!
I loved looking at the sky, we usually visited the beaches in the evening
Saturday, June 18, 2016
It Could Have Been So Different
It all began in April,
The day a whirlwind of emotions was created.
Tired I was from the grueling grind of day by day.
Frustrated over something that soon became unimportant.
When one Video Call with a spouse across the globe became so much more.
As the call began it was all normal. I was sure my husband was going to recover from this cracked rib. I was still a little perturbed at him for having played soccer in the first place due to his bum knee. He is a man after all, and what sounds good in the moment is very often not so great in the long run. Of course this isn't always the case.
Words tumbling out, in my house chaos runs rampant and BAM time stood still.
My husband began to explain that the pain in his side was in fact not caused by a cracked rib, but a mass. A MASS IN HIS CHEST. My stomach lurched, I am fairly certain for mere moments the floor fell from beneath my feet.
The questions pushed up and out of me, but I knew the answers, I knew even in his confusion, that any doctor he would see next would be an oncologist. He was saying that the mass was close to his lung, it was black, it was huge, it was possibly in his throat. How can this be? What the hell happened?
I begin to see scenarios in my head, smoke exposure from his childhood in Mexico? But how? How could it be so bad that it looks like he smokes?
After the call I cried a lot. I screamed at the walls. I ranted to friends. I PRAYED hard! I instantly began posting on my facebook group pages, begging for prayers. It became my way to grasp sanity.
I was falling apart. I was barely able to workout at the gym because it felt as if I was doing it for nothing. I felt the walls of my house closing in upon me. Yet I continued to Pray. I continued to ask for prayers.
Answers were slow to come, and when they came they bounced from positive to negative to unsure, until he got word that he would need surgery. Then that began another few weeks of ups and downs tears and arguments.
Routines at home were falling to the wayside. I wanted to eat so much ice cream and cry on the couch, but I couldn't.
Then it was he would go to Hawaii for surgery. He would go alone. Then he was nervous and sad and wishing I could go. I am trying to push that thought away, nope not me. I am not flying, I am not leaving my kids.
By the time it was all said and done from April to the beginning of May, I did go. My mother-in-law came to stay with the kids. I left my sweet baby boy on his birthday to fly on an airplane. I crossed over the line of my fears and into the unknown paradise that was awaiting me.
And then I ended up with 25 glorious days with just my husband all expenses paid.
He is okay. It was an old burned out infection that is now gone. A sample from it is growing as I type in a petri dish in Hawaii. But we know it was not cancer. We know it was through the power of prayer that this turned out the way it did, and we are so very thankful.
The day a whirlwind of emotions was created.
Tired I was from the grueling grind of day by day.
Frustrated over something that soon became unimportant.
When one Video Call with a spouse across the globe became so much more.
As the call began it was all normal. I was sure my husband was going to recover from this cracked rib. I was still a little perturbed at him for having played soccer in the first place due to his bum knee. He is a man after all, and what sounds good in the moment is very often not so great in the long run. Of course this isn't always the case.
Words tumbling out, in my house chaos runs rampant and BAM time stood still.
My husband began to explain that the pain in his side was in fact not caused by a cracked rib, but a mass. A MASS IN HIS CHEST. My stomach lurched, I am fairly certain for mere moments the floor fell from beneath my feet.
The questions pushed up and out of me, but I knew the answers, I knew even in his confusion, that any doctor he would see next would be an oncologist. He was saying that the mass was close to his lung, it was black, it was huge, it was possibly in his throat. How can this be? What the hell happened?
I begin to see scenarios in my head, smoke exposure from his childhood in Mexico? But how? How could it be so bad that it looks like he smokes?
After the call I cried a lot. I screamed at the walls. I ranted to friends. I PRAYED hard! I instantly began posting on my facebook group pages, begging for prayers. It became my way to grasp sanity.
I was falling apart. I was barely able to workout at the gym because it felt as if I was doing it for nothing. I felt the walls of my house closing in upon me. Yet I continued to Pray. I continued to ask for prayers.
Answers were slow to come, and when they came they bounced from positive to negative to unsure, until he got word that he would need surgery. Then that began another few weeks of ups and downs tears and arguments.
Routines at home were falling to the wayside. I wanted to eat so much ice cream and cry on the couch, but I couldn't.
Then it was he would go to Hawaii for surgery. He would go alone. Then he was nervous and sad and wishing I could go. I am trying to push that thought away, nope not me. I am not flying, I am not leaving my kids.
By the time it was all said and done from April to the beginning of May, I did go. My mother-in-law came to stay with the kids. I left my sweet baby boy on his birthday to fly on an airplane. I crossed over the line of my fears and into the unknown paradise that was awaiting me.
And then I ended up with 25 glorious days with just my husband all expenses paid.
He is okay. It was an old burned out infection that is now gone. A sample from it is growing as I type in a petri dish in Hawaii. But we know it was not cancer. We know it was through the power of prayer that this turned out the way it did, and we are so very thankful.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)