Dad.

You were only 20 when I was born.
Garth was already here, but was not even two, and so at 20, you and she were veteran parents.
Two kids.
You worked.  Hard.  Damn hard.  No time for an education, and so you relied on hard work and tremendous work ethic.
We moved.  To Fort McMurray.  At the time, it was to be temporary.  A place to gather bearings, find footings and eventually move back to Saskatchewan.
Instead, it became home.

We moved a few times before finding that little gem on Beaverglen.  It was here that you and she did, what I would think to be, the bulk of your growing up, and into adulthood.  Only 25 when we moved into that house, yet there were two kids who were starting grade school.  Seems unthinkable to me, that at 25, you did what I'm doing at 36.  Unthinkable.

There were struggles, fighting, usually between Garth and I, and loads and loads of smile-so-big-your-face-hurts good times.  We were together.

Everyone thinks that their Dad is the best Dad.  I smile, agree and without ever having to say one word, simply know that the truth is, that my Dad is the greatest.

Dads come to be in a way that Moms, and women can never understand.  We, as the growers of the babes, have different instincts, nurturing instincts.  It's, in some capacity, built into our genetic code. But Dads, now, they have to find their way, muddle through a new title with new expectations, without ever having had that physical connection to their baby.

I think for a lot of guys out there, being a Dad wasn't really on the radar.  Not a dream they've had since they were a child.  I'm not sure about my Dad, but at 18, he likely hadn't even had the chance to think much about it, before it was happening.

I know from chats with my Mom, that he needed some guidance in the beginning, and I don't think that's uncommon.  I know this to be true, as my own life partner needed, and still needs some gentle prods himself!

My Dad is gentle, and kind and soft in an unprecedented way that for much of his life, I'm sure, may have been viewed as a shortcoming.  He has taught be, without a doubt, some of the most powerful lessons and continues to exemplify how vulnerability and contentment are so much greater than being right.

I've read the book Don't Sweat the Small Stuff several times in my life, and I like to read it periodically to remind myself what's important.  I still remember the first time I read it, and thinking to myself how my Dad embodied every recommendation.

"If it won't matter in five years, it doesn't matter now."

It's a good one.
Basically, let that sh*t go.  It's not good for you.

When my first baby came along, and I didn't have a good goddamn clue what I was doing, I had this quiet confidence that my Dad, and Mom, had my back.  No matter what I did, I knew they would be there, anytime to lend a hand, or an ear, and that their tireless efforts in raising me, were going to make me a good Mom, in spite of my self doubts.

My Dad has supported me through some of the ugliest experiences anyone should ever have to go through.  He's been there through my ever challenging teenage years, and I might even venture to say, the more challenging young adult years.  He has been my running partner since the very beginning, more than 20 years ago, and through the crazy goals and ventures that fitness has brought to my life, he has never, not once, had anything negative to say.  He gets it.  He understands the importance of health and fitness and has not only been my #1 cheerleader, but often sets out on his own to achieve his best self.

He fills my gas tank, with a stealthy, "just running to grab a coffee, but my truck is loaded, so can I take yours?", he simply loads my children up and takes them to run errands on one of the million weekend trips to Devon, even though he has just worked a 60 hour work week, and then driven 5 hours.  He will come to get me, and a herd of drunk gals, no questions asked, in the middle of the damn night.

My Dad has taught me my value, and that it has exactly zilch to do with how my body looks and everything to do with my actions.  He has taught me to be a "do-er".  He has shown me the benefit of building things with my own two hands.  He has been the greatest example of what I deserved in a partner, and I think I did a pretty great job choosing one!

Everyone thinks they have the best Dad, and I will agree with you when you say yours is the best, because he is!  To you.  How fantastic to have so many phenomenal dudes stepping up and taking their title as the greatest?!  This is NOT a bad thing!  Me though, I truly think I do have the best Dad, and way more than that, my kids have known and will gather their own teachings from the greatest Papa alive, and also right next to their own Dad.  Happy Father's Day, guys!

What If??

I've been adding some runs back into my routine.
Just running.
However far I want to, whatever speed feels good, just running.
It feels so good.
Like putting on an old, worn pair of boots that just, fit.

I started out walking whenever I felt tired, or discouraged.
Being kind to ourselves sometimes comes in the form of a walk break.
Then, get back at 'er when a good, uplifting tune fires up, or I just want to get home faster!

When I'm easing back into running, I tend to walk the hills, inclines and generally any kind of slope that puts demand on my body.
Then, as the weeks go by, and I get stronger and faster, I start running those sections.
Slow, at first, then at a regular pace, and after a month or so, I might even be in the midst of a sprint interval on that same hill.

And it always begins, with "What if?"
What if I just run it this time?
So, rather than falling into a walk, I just slow my pace and run the damn hill.
Well, that wasn't so bad, was it?!

How many times do we succeed at something, simply because we had the courage to think, "What if?", rather than, "Oh, I can't do that!"

What if I can get this barbell up to my shoulders?  What if I can push through this next set of moves and not rest?  What if I can ride up this hill without stopping?

You can.

When I started running, at 15, I ran around Beacon Hill.
Still love to run around Beacon Hill!  All 4.8km of it, right boys?
Shortly after I picked up running, my Dad and brother would join me.
We would run out of our block, always turn right, then head down the hill, for a short straight stretch, then walk up the shorter, but steeper hill.

One day, after my Uncle Matthew asked why we walk only up the hill, we realized, it was just always what we'd done.
The next run, we ran the entire thing.
And all the runs after that.
And just because we were now wild and crazy, we sometimes ran left out of the block instead of right, which meant that we finished our run with a long, steady uphill climb!

We all get complacent.  It's a pretty strong individual who doesn't ever sit back on their loins at some point, and take a rest once in awhile.  We relax, lace our hands behind our heads, and relish in the work we've done.  It's just natural for us to get comfortable.  Doing something new is scary.  It's unknown, so then it's probably hard, right?  But how do you know?

I'm not a motivated individual, so obviously I'm not a motivating individual, but I would challenge anyone who's reading this sentence to try something new.  Now.  Not tomorrow, when you're feeling better, not in six months when you've lost some weight or gained some strength.  Now.  Maybe it's going outside for a 10 minute walk!  Actually, even a 5 minute one would be something new, no?!  I've hit quite a few PRs in the last year, I've smashed some goals, and I've been patting myself on the back for awhile over these accomplishments and it's time now to step away from that safe, cozy spot.  I'm going to try, and I'm going to fail.  And then I'm going to try again.

I have grown into a person who would rather make an attempt than feel regret.  Still not considering myself self-motivated, but I am goal-oriented!  I have definitely looked back on some of my earlier years and wondered what the deuce I was doing with my life, but as age will do, I've matured and I've learned that I want for this moment to be great, because I don't have control over anything else.  I want all of my today's to pave the way for the tomorrow's.  It starts with small change, but change, nonetheless. How many times have you thought to yourself, did I give that my best effort?  Did I put my best self out there?  Could I have done more?  Why did I wait?  Lots, I bet.  Me too.  I want to live my best life.  I want for my family to see that anything is possible, but, as the old saying goes, you just have to try.

Because, what if?

This is My Mother's Day

12:39AM
Today.

"I'm sorry to bother you, but I just need a little help."

It's just barely Mother's Day, and also happens to be my sons' 3rd birthday, but my husband feels he needs to apologize for waking me.
Why?  Because barf-pocalypse had just occurred in my middle daughters' room.

The Mother's Day expectation is absurd, in my opinion.
I've read a few articles this week, many of which outlined "What Mom's Really Want This Mother's Day". 
I disagreed with one in particular, which began, with a bullying tone - I want to sleep in until my eyes open, I want my family to take me to brunch, I want my kids to get along, I want to be waited on hand and foot, IwantIwantIwant...and on, and on...

Has anyone ever enjoyed such a fictitious day?  Let me re-phrase, has anyone enjoyed such a fictitious day, and not had to clean up make up for it the following day?

We honor Mother's on this day.  All of them.  Inclusive.
Some Mom's are entirely alone on this day.  Who's going to take them to brunch?  On a limited budget, probably.  Get real.  There are Mother's-in-waiting, to celebrate.  There are Moms who never birthed a baby, who are raising kids.  There are Moms who have lost.  There are Moms in heaven. There are loads of Moms who are, *gasp, working today!  One friend of mine is working today on a maternity ward!  Can you imagine how glorious that will be for a handful of women!  Yet, she is not being pampered today.  She is at work.

I realize that the celebrations can come in all different ways, and that I cannot judge another family.  I'm not.  I just hate this unrealistic expectation that it's a day off for Mom's.  Should it be?  Hell.  Yes.  Can it be?  Not for a lot of Mom's.

Chores need to get done.  There is a week to prepare for, as loads of Moms will be heading to work bright and early tomorrow.  Children still need raising.  Bathtubs still need to be cleaned after midnight use.

Ellie's room had vomit nearly everywhere.  I took her straight to the tub and stripped her and drew a warm bubble bath and washed her from head to toe.  She laid there for a long time, as I'm sure the water felt good on her icky-feeling tummy.  I waited.  I cried a little bit, because I despise when my kids are sick without me.  It makes my heart ache to think about them being alone when they're throwing up.

This, is my Mother's Day.
I wouldn't want it any other way.

All the things that we're expected to be exempt from, are the things that, in fact, make this day possible.
These three people, my kids, are the reason I get to participate in this day.  My youngest child, the bonus boy, is three today.  It's his birthday.  Mother's Day cannot overshadow this.  My school-aged daughters made heart-felt, lovely gifts for me at school.  This, is my Mother's Day.

My Mom looks prettiest when she is with Dad.
Audrey filled in the blank with this.
She is a clever and observant girl, and to say that we have struggled this year?  Well, we have.
And yet, she thinks that I look pretty when her Dad and I are together.
This, is my Mother's Day.

It bothered me, too, that my husband, my partner in all of this, who will have his day in about a month, felt the need to apologize for asking for help.  The hell?  Of course!  This day had been happening for 40 minutes, and he already felt like he shouldn't disturb me.  Again, get real.

I don't wish for a day off.  I feel that it's unrealistic.  At least right now.  I actually have no wishes.  The greatest things to ever happen to me live at my house, and that is just, enough.

Maybe the sleeping thing.  I could have used a sleep in...

Flexible Dieting, Ya'll!

This post is a bit of a "wake-up-and-smell-the-fact-that-there's-a-better-way!" post, than a motivational one!

Do you know what a personal trainer is?  Group fitness?  Gym membership?
OF COURSE YOU DO!
I'm sure you're familiar with at least one of these things.
What do they have in common?
One hour.

You could even go so far as to give that time a range.  Thirty minutes, 90 minutes, hell, even two hours.
This is a relatively small amount of time in your day, right?

What are you doing with the other 23?

Exercising is easy.
If I'm being perfectly honest, though?
You don't even really have to work out, to get results.
Really!

We're all familiar with exercise and getting fit and lifting weights, and doing Zumba and blah, blah, blah...
But have you heard of a nutrition coach?

Maybe, but maybe not.
You can easily get an hour of exercise in, using any number of means, but some people, likely loads of people, could use help with the rest of the day.  The eating part of the day.  The 3-6 times you are choosing food throughout the day.
A coach?  She can help you, and mine has done nothing less than overhaul my entire way of thinking about food.
No more fear, no more "working off those calories", no more guilt.
None.

If you're interested in a new way, but not a quick way. If you're tired of being afraid of food, or your clothes not fitting, or what you're going to eat at that birthday next Saturday, then you might consider a nutrition coach.  In my opinion, you should consider a nutrition coach over a personal trainer.

My coach teaches flexible dieting.  I realize the word dieting implies that we're giving something up, but I assure you, I have given up nothing.  Not one thing.  The only thing "diet" about the whole thing is that you will be in a calorie deficit - so, you will be consuming slightly fewer calories than you are burning.  This process is slow.  It's meant to be.  It's also pretty easy, as in, like I mentioned, I have given up nothing!  Still going to parties, still going on dates, still working treats into my week.

Where did I come from?  Why did I need a nutrition coach?
I have been heavy my entire life.  I didn't just gain weight when I was pregnant.  I haven't yo-yo'd 40 or 50lbs, I have had, and used a gym membership since I was in high school, and I have been overweight always.  I am also a runner.  I have the experience of 13 half marathons and two marathons under my feet, and on the very weekend I ran a back-to-back half marathon and marathon, I weighed 5lbs more than I do today, and had very little muscle to show for a heckuva'  lot of work.

You cannot out train a bad diet.
A lifetime of terrible eating never caught up to me.  I had always been large.  I had always had terrible, closet eating habits.
Brandy has given me every tool, every opportunity to contact her, and more encouragement than I've ever had.  If you'd like to have a crazy fan in your stands as you trek along on your body transformation, then Brandy is your girl!  You can have all the faith in the world in yourself, but there will be days of doubt.  A coach can be the pillar for you and can guide you, lift you when you feel like you're failing.

I still have work to do.  I am patient, and kind to myself in a way I never have been but I am also armed with the tools and the freedom to choose and I feel assured of myself, with the help of my coach.  I feel so good and I have no fear when I am making my food choices all day, every day.  This Sh*t works!

Slow & Consistent

Do you want to change your body?
Are you ready to live in a body you've always dreamed?
I can tell you what you need to HAVE IT ALL!

Time.

That's it.
Have you got time?
Good.  Then stick to your plan, keep your eye on the prize and try to be patient.
I know it can be hard.
I know, baby!  Hang in there, keep plugging away!

I thought I'd lose more every week, or be smaller by now.
Hasn't everyone on course for weight loss thought this at some point?
By now...by now has been 90 days, give or take, and according to my progress pics, my body is doing nothing less than morphing into one I don't hardly recognize.
Only 90 days, and I feel as though I'm about half way to a crazy, never-achieved-before goal.

"I thought I'd be done by now."
Where are you going in such a big damn hurry, though?
We're always trying to get the BBD - bigger better deal.
Even when it comes to significant physical change.

But what do you think is waiting for you at the finish line, the end?
This is where one of my biggest hangups is.
I just want to get to my goal.  See the number on the scale that I'm aiming for.  Buy smaller clothes and look cute AF in them.
But then what?  What happens next? 
That's it.  Then I'm there.  That is it.

Wherever you go, there you are.
Funny how that can apply to life.  Just, life.

My scale moves, but Im'ma be honest - some weeks it's just squeaking a tiny bit lower, but loss is loss, and sometimes there's even gains, but even when I gain, I'm frighteningly OK with it, because the noticeable changes in the way my body looks are astounding.

I'm at the stage of my journey where I'm hearing the comments.
People I haven't seen in awhile are noticing the changes.
My clothes are fitting hella good.
I have shoulder definition, ya'll!
If there's one part of my body I have always wanted to change, it's my rounded shoulders.
Them babies got some nice angles and curves now!  Mmmmmmm hmmmm!  Tank top season is upon us!

I'm not "there" yet.
I'm a lot closer, and I most certainly expect there to be some slips, some mistakes, a day or two here and there where nasty old habits creep.
That's OK, because I've got the time.
I'm committed and I've got nothing but time.

Junkie

Food addiction.
Binge eating.

It's difficult for me to even write those things, and yet, terms like this have defined me for much of a my life, almost 30 years, in a closeted kind of way.

Do you think that as an alcoholic is heavy within the clutches of the addiction, that they are telling people that they're an addict?  How about a drug user?  I'm quite sure it's not until any kind of addict seeks sobriety, will they be open to calling themselves an addict.

I had a very difficult day the other day.  For no particular reason, was it a bad day.  Just a few, little things, that got to me in a way that was not proportionate to their gravity.

It was so bad, that I reached out to my nutrition coach, to ask her if the urge to binge ever goes away.
In one moment of that day, I felt overwhelmed with the desire to make myself feel better with food.

This has been my cycle, to some degree, for almost as long as I can remember.  I have medicated myself with food, just as an addict would with wine, or prescription drugs, or gambling.
We have a "crutch", to help us get through the crap parts of life, and sometimes, a lot of times, I would even say, this crutch is simply an addiction that we haven't faced yet.

I remember making a bowl of raw cookie dough and eating the entire thing.  I would take a bag of cookies out of the pantry and eat the entire thing.  Oreos were my choice, if given one.  I also remember shaving bits off of a cake, in the hopes that maybe no one would notice that 1/3 of it had been eaten.  It filled the hole.  It made me feel so comforted and almost euphoric, for a moment.
I still know this feeling.  I remember.

I worked through my moment of weakness.  I did not binge.  I stuck to my planned macros, and I felt so very accomplished at the end of that day.

I am working on sobriety.  Isn't that an interesting way to think about it?
I am trying very, very hard to stay sober from binge eating.

I realize that there are people who binge a lot more, or more frequently than myself.  I also know that there are alcoholics who can put down a flat of beer and a couple of two sixes a day, and others who are drinking a bottle of wine every evening.

Potato, po-tah-toe.  Addiction is addiction.

In my mind, on that day, I was simply facing some demons.  Sobriety is hard.  Stopping a food addiction cycle is hard because food is required to live.  Moscato, not so much.

For a lot of my life, though, I was living to eat.  I mean, really living in the anticipation of what I was going to eat next.
I still do, but now there is thought behind what's coming next and I feel good afterwards, instead of guilty and remorseful.

I wondered if I should even post something about this day and this light bulb moment for me, but then, just like many of my posts, I remembered that there is almost certainly someone struggling or dealing with the exact thing I was that day.
I have never gone to a self help meeting.
I have sought help, but it was in the form of therapy and now my phenomenal nutrition coach.

Addiction can be overwhelming. Gripping.  It can be stifling and suffocating.
I knew I needed to get past that moment, but I wasn't sure how.

I'm sure I will still have these feelings.  I'm sure they'll always creep up when I'm feeling weak.  I'm also sure that as I learn about myself, and my triggers and that I am abso-freaking-lutely deserving of everything I work for, that I will be able to stamp them out with more and more ease and resolution.

I feel strong today, and I am so proud that on that day I was able to do the right thing, and reach out to my support, instead of burying myself in a box of timbits.

Progress...sometimes bit, sometimes small.  But always getting better.

A Few Things About Me

I'm never sure how many people actually read my blog, and I write it more so I have a story to pass along to my kids, and their kids, but today I thought I'd randomize it!

I'm also not sure how much "story" I've ever shared, and so I thought I'd share an entire post about me, and a bit about how I've ended up here.

A few things you might not know about me?  Maybe you do?  I love to eat.  I do.  I'm usually thinking about eating WHILE I'm eating.  I equally love to lift weight and move my bod, but that hasn't always been a good balance!

Good, nice hotels are one of my favorite things in the world.
Falling into a perfectly made, all white bed is my heaven!  Add some food, in bed, and now we're talkin'!

I will forever and always be an optimist.  I like to think that I will try to find the good in any situation, though I might find anger and frustration along the way, too!


I am also an introvert.  My most comfortable place is my home, with my people.  And that's it.  I struggle hard to be a scheduled, organized, play date Mom, and fail, usually.  That being said, I also love the group atmosphere of the gym, which is a little weird!  The people there are like family,so it wasn't awkward for long!

I have almost always been involved in sports in some way.
I swam competitively until I was 15.  My events were always distance.  I have been built for endurance my entire life!
I played almost every sport in High School, and to this day, many of my favorite people are from those days!

I played on the senior volleyball team when I was in grade 11.  But was cut for my grade 12 year, and that is still a painful memory for me.

I have been in love three times.  I have had my heart pulverized once. 
When I met my husband, I thought we were going to have so much fun, and then by summers end, be done.  He continues to break the rules and though I don't believe in soulmates, he is my best friend and our relationship is one of my greatest accomplishments.

I don't have a flying clue how to do hair or makeup, and I would really like to learn!  Takers??

I have a degree in Lab Science, and of four years of mainly science classes, my best grade was in English!

One of my greatest fears is letting go of my children.  What if I've failed them in some fundamental way?  What if something happens to them?  What if people are mean to them, and they are too soft to handle it?  I waste a fair amount of time worrying about silly things, but for the most part, I'm a chilled out person.  Those "what if's?" can be all encompassing, though, hey?

I am messy and disorganized and I like to fly by the seat of my pants.  I do not live and breathe by a calendar. I feel that this can be frustrating to the people in my life, sometimes!

My Mom and I have complimentary tattoos.  I also have a big piece on my back, and I'm pining for another one from a different artist.  All are done by girl artists.

I have never, and would never classify my body as skinny, or small.  I have battled with my weight for as long as I can remember.
Much of this blog is about my most recent years, and also most successful.  With age comes wisdom, or something like that.  Also, I don't give a flying eff what anyone thinks of my body anymore.  This has been SO liberating!

I am a runner.  My one true passion is running.  I cannot wait to run races with my kids!
I have run 13 half marathons and 2 full marathons.  Nothing has shaped me, or taught me more about life, than running.

I am only now at a place in my life where I do not worry about food, and about what will happen if I fail.  I'm not failing.  I won't fail.  It's up to me, but it's not scary or stressful anymore.  I have been overweight my entire life.  Sometimes as much as 80lbs - not pregnant.  I have gained and lost a mitful of times, but I wouldn't categorize myself as a "yo yo dieter", as I've never been at a goal weight long enough!  I tend to just stay overweight, to varying degrees.

I can't even say, "this time is different!", or, "this time will be the last time!", because truly, this time doesn't feel like some path I'm trudging down to get to a terrifying and unknown destination. This time doesn't feel like I'm going through one set of motions in the hope that once I "arrive", I will then switch to another set, with a sigh of relief.  All I'm doing is being consistent, accountable and planning a little bit, and as a nice result, I happen to be transforming my body.  This time I'm not frightened.