Lose weight -- Get a Husband.

I will be the first to admit, my self confidence is not my strongest asset.  It has been getting much better over the last few years, but it has been the toughest muscle to build for sure.  It has held me back from doing many things in my life.  I have avoided situations, avoided people, ruined relationships, stopped myself from doing things I really wanted to do all because I have had no self confidence. 

In January of 2011, when I walked through the doors of my local big box gym, I had managed to gain a little bit of confidence.  I decided I would go in, do what I needed to do and leave.  It seemed friendly enough there.  At least that is what their advertisement suggested.  It was shiny and new and gave out promises of creating a shiny, new me.  That is what I wanted....a new me.

Of course, when I went in, I was beguiled into a 6 session package with a trainer of their choosing.  I wasn't even sure if I would be meeting with a male or a female.  I wasn't even sure if I would be comfortable or connect with this person.  All I really wanted to do was join the gym quietly, use the treadmill every once in a while and leave.  But, since I was trying to create a new and better me, I did what they suggested and met with the trainer.  After three sessions, we had a "sit-down conversation" where he laid out my options to continue on, reviewing all the wonderful reasons he was the one to change my life.  Of course most of the reasons were thinly veiled insults.  There was a concerted effort to break down the little bit of confidence I had built in order to writhe himself in. 

And break down my confidence he did.

When he was reviewing with me all of the many reasons a thinner version of me would be such a better version, he asked if there was a man in my life.  I was taken aback and tried to pretend I didn't know where his line of questioning was going. But I knew.  I ashamedly said "No."  He then printed in big bold letters on my personal evaluation form the word *HUSBAND* and circled it vigorously numerous times.  I actually thought the pen would rip the paper.  I could feel my face flush red with embarrassment and I felt a little sick.  Basically he was telling me I was single and therefore must be miserable due to the fact that I was obese.  And because I was overweight, I was worthless.  My worth was in direct relation to size of my ass.  If I were  thinner, I would be a better person and therefore attract a man and therefore be complete.  Damn you, Renee Zellweger.

And I believed him.

Of course I believed him!!!  I have believed this my whole life.  I have always believed if I was thinner (and of course prettier), I would be happier, richer, more successful, more likeable and just an all around better person.  I have just never had anyone so blatantly point it out to me.  So I thought if this bouncy, young, fit trainer was confirming it for me, it really must be true.  I really was worthless because I was fat.  So when he told me how much this magical training was going to cost me, he actually huffed in disgust that I would question the number.  Why would I put a limit on the amount of money I would spend on this new,shinier and most importantly thinner version of myself?  I wanted a husband, didn't I?  So of course, I signed up for 6 months of training with him.   

Now don't get me wrong, it was not all bad.  I did lose a little weight and I created a habit of becoming more active.  I worked on becoming healthier and I tried to become focused.  My training ran out and I opted not to sign up again for various reasons. 

Thankfully since that moment of deep embarrassment, I have made great strides in my self confidence and my self worth.  My only concern now is being better than the person I was yesterday.  Those words and weakly disguised insults have stopped hurting me long ago.  I am blessed with a new found determination for personal success.  I have come to realize that on the other side of this deep fear and lack of confidence I have had for so long is a freedom I could have never dreamed of.  I am a much better version of myself today.

And I am still single.

Roasted Broccoli

Eating clean has always been a challenge for me.  I have a long, complicated relationship with food.   I have dieted, binged, starved, not cared, cared deeply, lost weight and gained it over and over again.  I love food.  I like to eat delicious things!

Lately, I have been trying very hard to stay on an Eat Clean path, but I will be the first to admit that it is not easy to do.  A big part of this is that I get so bored.  When I get bored, I graze.  When I graze, I lose all focus and determination.

So my new strategy is to take clean eating ingredients and make them as interesting while maintaining their "clean" quality. 

Clean & cut Broccoli

I saw a posting for Roasted Broccoli online somewhere and thought....hmmm.....I've got to try this one.

So, I start with a clean head of broccoli, cut the florets off.  I find the smaller I cut them, the quicker they become tender in the oven. 



Then toss the broccoli florets together with 2 tablespoons of olive oil and spread them on a cookie sheet. sprayed with a non-stick spray.  I use Pam.  Then I sprinkle Epicure Sesame Crunch Topper.  But you could use whatever spice you wanted. 

You can use whatever spice you want

I have pre-set my oven to Broil, pop them in the oven and just keep an eye on them.  It depends how big you cut your broccoli as to how long it will take.  This batch took maybe 5 minutes.  Just keep an eye on it and when it starts to get a little brown around the edges, it is usually done.

Sometimes I like to sprinkle some cheese on top.




This is my newest favourite treat.

~YUMMY!!!!~

Freedoom and Magic

Battling my weight and evaluating my self worth has been like a life long war on myself.  I have never felt completely comfortable in my own skin.  I am not even sure I would recognize that sensation.  Almost all of my earliest memories involve me feeling bad about the way I look or the size of my body.  There has never been a time in my life when I have felt like I was good enough for my family, my teachers, my classmates, the people I thought were my friends and certainly not ever for myself. I have very few "happy" childhood memories.  All my life, there has been someone who has pointed out my flaws to the point of taking how uncomfortable I feel to a whole other level.

I have been on this part of my journey now for a little over 3 1/2 years.  My life has certainly changed quite a bit for the better, but still, I have not reached my goal.  Sometimes, I feel as though my goal is unattainable. Sometimes I feel like I am racing toward a constantly disappearing finish line.  There are days that I just feel like giving up.  On cold winter mornings when I have to wake up even earlier to warm and scrape my car for the 25 minute drive to the gym, I think to myself "why the hell am I sitting in my cold car at 5:30am.  I could have just stayed in bed for an extra 2 hours?" 

Then I arrive at the gym and it all becomes clear to me.  I feel free as soon as I walk through the doors.  Never in my life have I felt as strong or like I belong more than I do when I am in my gym.  There is no judgement allowed.  I am not allowed to judge myself or think that anyone else is judging me.  I have learned to focus on the task I am given.  I look at what is in front of me and nothing else.  When I start to over think or pace, I am quickly put in my place. 

Then the magic begins.

My body has been pushed to limits I never even knew existed.  I have jumped, squatted, lunged, lifted, thrown, punched, kicked and sweated more than I ever dreamed possible.  I have also laughed, cried, been bruised, bled and swore about as much.  Nothing in my life has ever made an impact on me as when I walk through the doors of my gym.  My physical strength has improved so much, I sometimes shock myself.  My mental strength is building as well, even if it is a little slower.  I am still very hard on myself, but I am learning to be nicer to myself.  It is a hard lesson though.

So even though sometimes I feel as though I am on a hamster wheel in regards to reaching my fitness goals, I am now aware more than ever that every time I walk through those doors, I am one step closer to being stronger, healthier and happier than I was the last time I was there.  I have already achieved so much.  And once I reach my goals, I will have new ones to attain. 

There is no finish line. 

Another New Year, Another Chance to Start Over

As I sit here on December 31, 2013,  I am amazed at how far I have come in three short years.  In 2010, my life was on a quick spiral to an even darker place than I was in.  I felt lost, alone, desperate and like I just couldn't go on any further.  It was a hopeless, dark hole with no foreseeable way to get out.

Thankfully, I am not in that dark place any more.  Today I am stronger, happier and healthier than I ever have been in my whole life.

But, there is still progress to be made. 

I used to think that I was racing toward this invisible finish line, that I was in a race with myself and the people surrounding me.  I felt panicked, like I was in a dream and my legs would not move, no matter how hard I tried to run.

I have learned that taking life one day at a time, living life on Life's terms and simply trying to be better than I was yesterday is all I need to do.  I do not need to compete with anyone.  I do not need to compare myself to the progress or the abilities of anyone except the person I was yesterday.   When I do fall into that cycle, I simply frustrate myself into failure.

I no longer make resolutions.  Those are simply broken promises I deceive myself with.  For 2014, I have a list of goals.  Some of them are big and some are small.  Thankfully, I now know that is okay.  I no longer think I need to conquer the world by January 15th.

Over the last year, I have made further physical strides than I have ever dreamed possible.  I could never have imagined myself doing the things that I have accomplished in 2013.  I feel like a completely different person than the sad, lonely girl I was in 2010.  I no longer feel like I just want my life to end so the pain would stop.  I now crave the day-after ache from a brutal workout. I am addicted to the hour I spend with my trainer.   I wake up at 530am so I can train at 630am.  I drive more than 20 minutes to my gym 6 days a week.  These are the most wonderful gifts I have ever given myself.

And still, I will never forget the girl that was swollen, obese and broken  She was in a constant food fog, letting her life pass her by while getting more miserable, more uncomfortable and more despondent with each passing minute.  That girl will always be a part of who I am.  She will always be there to remind me of how it was, how it very easily could be and how I never want to be ever again.

So, as 2013 turns into 2014, I find myself so very grateful.   I am grateful for the lessons I have learned this past year, whether they were challenging or clear and easy.  Every lesson is so important.   I am grateful for the amazing people who have fallen into my life that support me at every turn.  Most days I am astonished at how lucky I am.   I am also grateful for the not so wonderful people I have encountered, for they have offered me growth and self reflection.  I am grateful for my health and my new outlook on life.    I refuse to give up on myself.  I will get up if I fall.

I am my own Heroine. 

Lessons and Life Changes

One year ago, my life flipped upside down.

I was told about a trainer by a co-worker.  She was selling tickets to fund raise for a local event and one of the "prizes" was one month free of bootcamp and 5 free training sessions with this friend of hers named Ryan.  I had stopped with a trainer at a big box gym that I had trained with for about 6 months.  I enjoyed it but I was not passionate about continuing on.  I had made strides in my weight loss but I knew I was losing my momentum.  I knew I needed something.

So, I made the decision to meet with Ryan "Manimal" Staples about training with him and I have not looked back since.

That first day, I drove up and down Sackville Dr. for a while and then I sat in my car in the parking lot for another while just to build the courage to walk through the doors of a Martial Arts Gym to meet with someone named "Manimal". If that isn't stepping outside of my comfort zone, I do not know what is. It was not an easy decision for this fat girl but it was by far the best one I have ever made for myself.  I can remember sitting in the parking lot, thinking to myself "THIS is where he works?"  I will admit, I was very skeptical.  After all, my last gym was big, shiny, two floors and full of spandex and mirrors.  On this day, I was looking at the basement of a car parts store, with some mats thrown down on the floor.  The main door, which was a garage door was pulled up and it looked pretty dingy.  I took a deep breath and got out of my car.

One year later, I am stronger, happier and healthier than I ever have been in my whole life.

Am I at my goal? No, I am not. But I know that I will get there because I have the support of someone who *truly* cares;  someone who is invested in my health, physical and emotional well being, beyond a pay cheque.  That is so rare and so precious.  I have never, in my whole life, had one ounce of the support that I get from Ryan.  I have always been the girl that was ignored, laughed at and bullied.  I skipped gym class and used the fact that I had a problem with my knee to my advantage as much as I possible could.  Today, I am pushing myself further than I ever have.  I am not allowed to baby my knee any more.

Ryan calls me on my bullshit on a regular basis (which is often and what I totally need) and *will not* say "I told you so.", even when I really, really deserve it. Ryan has seen me at my absolute worst yet I have never once felt uncomfortable around him. Months ago, when I bolted from Bootcamp because I thought I could not keep up and thought I wasn't good enough, he made it his priority then and continues to make sure I know that I am good enough and that the people in my life, my gym family, care about me and want me to succeed and will do whatever they can to help me get to my goals.

I feel very blessed to have such a driving force in my life and I never, ever take it for granted.  I have achieved things I never even dreamed possible.  I never dreamed it because this life I am living now was never in my realm of what my reality could be.  I was the girl that wanted to wake up thin.  I actually would lay in bed and pray to God to wake up with a body like Cindy Crawford. I would bargain with him...."If you give me a skinny body, I will be the best person ever."  Then I would be indignant because I had the same out of shape body in the morning.  Today, I am working to have a body like Ronda Rousey.  I am working for it.  I am not there but I am closer than I have ever been in my life.  It feels good to have new priorities.

This past year has been life changing. And I know THIS is just the beginning. Anything is possible, if only you believe in yourself. And if you can't believe in yourself yet, finding someone who does is one of the best blessings you could hope for.

That is me in the pink top in the upper left hand corner.  Ryan is in the middle, throwing up his arms in victory.  This is my happy place.  I am never happier than when I am sweating and feel like I am going to throw up. 

Top 10 Things I Learned from 8 Weeks of Hell

I have just completed an Eight week bootcamp that my instructor affectionately called Eight Weeks of Hell.  It was intense.  Some days were harder than others, but I am so glad that I did it.  It was definitely a learning experience in more ways than one.  These are the top 10 things that I learned during this 8 week program.



10.  Just because people pay money for an exercise regime, doesn't mean they are going to follow it.  I was shocked at the amount of people that disappeared from class.  We started out with 24 people.  Today, the last day, there were 5 of us. 

9.  You don't need any fancy equipment to get an amazing work-out.  Body weight exercises can be just as or MORE effective than any kind of equipment.  Squats, push ups, sit ups, jumping jacks, v-sits, burpees....if done in the right combination, can be exhausting.

8.  I CAN do push-ups from my toes.  Who knew???

7.  Surrounding yourself with positive, like-minded people is the best gift you can give yourself.  It is much easier to do this sort of regime with a support team in place.

6.  If you think you can't sweat any more than you already have, you are wrong.  OH boy, are you wrong!!!

5.  Closing my eyes while doing a wall sit really does work.  Wall sits are a gift from hell.  Closing my eyes and focusing on my breathing helps to get me through.  Otherwise, I am looking all around and lose posture too quickly.

4.  The word "burpees" instills pain as well as panic in the hearts of many...mostly me.

3.  I really can do more than I ever thought I could.  I have never had the confidence in myself to believe that I could do what I have done over the past 8 weeks.

2.  To be proud of my accomplishments, no matter how big or small they are.  This has been a hard lesson as I feel everything should be perfect, the first time I do it...which is utterly ridiculous.  I am so proud of myself for doing what I have done.

1.  Never, ever question Ryan.  There is always a reason for everything he has us do.

Fear and Loathing

"Fear is stupid.  So are regrets."  Marilyn Monroe

Well, last night was quite possibly the worst night I have ever had at the gym.  I went to bootcamp with what I thought was a fairly positive attitude.  I completed about 50 minutes of it.  Then, we had to army crawl down the gym, sprint back, do a push up and crawl back repeating it until we did it 5 times.  As soon as we were told to line up, I could feel the anxiety start to build and my eyes start to burn.  I crawled about 75% of the way down the gym and said out loud, to no one but myself, "I'm done.  I can't do this.  I am done."  I could hear Ryan talking to me but I just kept repeating, "I'm done."  over and over.  He kept saying, "What do you mean?"  I walked over, put on my sweater and glasses and looked across the gym at him.  He was shrugging his shoulders at me in disbelief.  My eyes started to burn and water uncontrollably.  I just put on my coat and shoes and left.  On my way out, one of my other instructors could see I was upset and tried to talk to me.   I just did not want to see anyone.  I did not want to talk to anyone.  And I certainly did not want anyone to see me cry.  Of  course, once I left, I felt like an idiot.  I cried the whole way home.  I cried myself to sleep.  I cried most of the morning today.

I am unbelievably hard on myself.  The 40 years of believing I am worthless and that I cannot and will not achieve anything of any merit has taken it's toll on my self worth.  No matter how hard I try, I expect to fail.  I have a brick wall of fear built so high and so wide it is seemingly impossible to break down.  Fear that I won't be able to keep up.  Fear that I won't be able to do what I am required to do.  Fear that I will never be good enough for anyone.  Fear that everyone will see that I am a fraud and that I do not belong.  I seriously think that one day I will enter my gym and someone is going to say, "You don't belong here, why do you keep coming back?"

I shared this fear with Ryan and all he said to me was, "Mary, you do belong here."   Years of believing negative things about myself has lead me down a very narrow path.  It is almost like a hallway that gradually becomes narrower and narrower.  I can't turn around, I can't go forward and I am stuck, so I can't go back.  It is a crippling fear.

In bootcamp and my other classes, I am slower than the others and it really bothers me.  I know that we are all on different levels. I know that the others have been working at this longer than I have.  I know that I have made great progress and have lost a lot of weight.  I know all of these things.  But in the moment, when I am struggling, all I can feel is competition.  I loathe being last.  It upsets me so much when I am the last one to finish.  I feel like I am not as good as the others and that I have disappointed everyone.  I have always been the kid picked last or the kid that no one wanted on the team.  I avoided gym class at all costs.  I don't even run for the bus. So, this level of physical activity is new to me.   I do not want to become complacent, like I have in the past.  I am working on my self-confidence but it is a hard battle.  Probably the most difficult battle I will ever fight.  I feel as though these struggles I face in class are killing any confidence I am building.  Two steps forward and three steps back.  It is a hell of a mind game. 

Fear is met and destroyed with courage"     John F. Bell

Pushing past the fear is the only way to get away from this smothering feeling.  I need to close my eyes and just go.  But it is like making yourself fall.  How can you pull your legs out from under you if you know you are going to land on your ass?  How do I learn to not be so hard on myself?  How do I learn to be happy with the progress I have made without paying attention to other people.   I know that I do not need to compare myself to anyone else or measure my worth or my progress against anyone else.  Yet I still do it.

Today, after a lengthy conversation with Ryan, more tears and a lot of soul searching, I realized I have a lot of work to do both mentally and physically.  I thought I had the mental and emotional aspects of my life under control and that all the training I am doing would take care of the physical.  My reality is much different.  I have weight to lose, muscle to build and confidence to establish!

One lesson I have learned over the past few years is if I don't know how to do something, I should "act as if."  So, I think I should start acting as if I believe in myself, acting as if I am good enough.  I only need to be good enough for myself.  I only need to challenge myself, compete against myself.  Not against the other people in class or anyone else for that matter.

Maybe one day soon, I will begin to believe it.

Progress, not perfection

Today I went to my kickboxing boot camp.  It was just me, another gal and Ryan, our instructor.  I have to selfishly say, it was nice to have the one on one direction.  However, I was reminded today of a huge problem I have.  I have this issue with needing to be perfect at anything I try, from day one.  How ridiculous is that?  It is quite ridiculous.  How could I even begin to assume that I could be perfect at something I have never done before?  It is impossible.  Yet today, as Ryan was telling me how to execute a kick, I became so frustrated with myself!  I could feel my anxiety and frustration starting to boil over.  It was all of my own doing.  He was patient and calm.  He tried to explain it to me several ways so I could understand.  Yet, there I was, getting annoyed with myself.  Then I felt the tears. Thankfully, they just burned my eyes and did not fall.

I need to get over my own ego if I have any hope of progressing beyond where I am now.  One of my favourite sayings is "Progress not Perfection".  I need to live this and not just recite it to myself.  Just doing the next right thing and trying the best that I can each day is all that I should expect of myself.  Ryan  told me not to over think anything in life, especially Martial Arts.  It can be overwhelming.  He is so right.  One of my biggest character defects is that I over think absolutely everything and as a result, I always feel overwhelmed.  Perhaps Muay Thai is exactly what I need.  The discipline and focus will be good for me physically as well as mentally.

When I was training with my old trainer, I always expected to be criticized.  I was always hearing how I was doing something wrong.  It was rare that I ever "got it".  It only makes sense since this sort of training is completely new to me.  I totally realize I need a lot of coaching and I have a lot to improve on.  However, I am just not feeling that same sort of pressure.  Maybe that is why I am feeling better about what I am doing and why I can't wait to get back to the gym to train again.  I enjoyed training with my old trainer, but this is on a whole new, exciting level.  Two hours after I got home, I was looking online to see if anyone was going to be there later today so I could go back. 

Tomorrow marks my very first Muay Thai class.  I have been watching YouTube videos of technique.  It is a brutal sport.  It is fast and very violent.  But for some reason, I am attracted to it anyway.  I am not expecting to become competitive anytime soon or really, ever.  I am just going to enjoy the class tomorrow and absorb all that I can.  I am taking it one day at a time and I am not over thinking it.

Always Get Back Up...

As some of you know, I work in a daycare. The other day I was in the office and a preschooler was getting some TLC and an ice pack. I looked at her and said "Did you fall down?" She looked up at me, with a sad look, free of tears and nodded her head yes. I gave her an empathetic look. Then I said, "Did you get back up?" She looked back at me, with a keen smile and nodded her head again. I smiled back at her and said, "You know, getting back up is the most important part of falling." She looked at me with such pride.

In my old life, I would fall down and stay down, allowing myself to be walked on, kicked repeatedly and used. I would let life defeat me over and over all the while stuffing my face with whatever I could get my hands on. It was exhausting; mentally, physically and emotionally but I was blind to the lessons that life offered me. One day about three years ago, I decided to try to pick myself up and stay up. I really wanted, and needed, to see what life could offer me.

Something else amazing happened along the way. I gained confidence I never dreamed I could embody. About a year and a half ago, I started going to the gym. I realized I liked it but never really became passionate about it. Last month, when I won a gift certificate for a personal trainer and access to bootcamps and various Martial Arts classes, I had a good feeling. I have started Muay Thai classes and am feeling so recharged, amazing and strong. I find I am living life with such enthusiasm. I feel like my "three-legged stool" of mental, physical and emotional health is built with tree trunks.

I asked my mother if she could have ever imagined me going to any kind of class like that three years ago. She laughed and said "No way!" I have been given my life. I cannot even say I've been given my life back, because I am living better now than I ever have in my 40 years. I avoided any sort of activity that would draw attention to me. I isolated myself so deeply and was developing such a toxic personality that no one, including myself, wanted to be around me. Thankfully, that person is no longer even on my radar.

However, even within the last two and a half years, I have not been able to see things as clearly as I could. I have not always allowed myself to "live life on life's terms." During my conversation with this preschooler the other day, one lesson became blissfully clear. We are going to trip and fall in life. It may be a big fall or it could be a stumble. Regardless, the important thing is to get up and keep moving. When my Toddlers fall down on the playground because they were running too fast or not paying attention, I tell them to get up and shake it off before it hurts. Nine times out of ten they get up, do a little shake and keep going. Every now and then, they cry and need a hug. And that is ok. But they keep going regardless. That is such a valuable lesson and one I remind myself of daily.

Regrets and Life Choices

I've often laid awake at night, wondering where I went wrong in my life. I am not even close to the person I thought I might be, personally or professionally. I've lost count of the amount of tears I have shed over the wrong turns and bad decisions I have made. Somehow, I have lost my way. I can't even say with sheer certainty that I ever knew what my path was supposed to be. Maybe I was born a lost soul. It's really rather exhausting.

Over the past few months I have been doing a lot of soul searching and intense thinking. Looking deep into myself, I wonder if I really like what I see. The thing about this is, if I don't like it....all I need to do is change it, right?

Boot camp Day 1

I have always hated physical activity. I would find any excuse to not participate in gym class or Field Day. It has always been a lack of confidence. I was the one who wanted to wake up with they body of a super model. I never really wanted to work for it. Dreaming about it seemed far less exhausting. So, for years, I continued to dream and wish and be angry because my unrealistic prayers were never answered by someone else.

I had gym memberships before but was never consistent enough to see any sort of progress or improvement. In January 2011, I decided that I needed to do something about it. I wanted results and I figured that this was the time. I joined the local big named gym, got a trainer and started to work for what I wanted. But there was a small problem. I was never really serious about it. I never really pushed myself like I could have or should have. I would be giggling or joking instead of being focused. Focus is what gets results. I continued with my trainer for 6 months, then the money ran out. I continued at the gym, going in for some cardio and weight training but never for any of the classes. I avoided classes like the plague. Classes intimidated me. I hated the thought of being in a room with 30-40 other people, trying to get the rhythm of the class and looking like a fool. Friends would try to convince me to go with them, telling me how great a workout it was. But I never gave in. I insisted classes and groups were not for me.

A few months ago, a friend at work was selling tickets to support our local Run for the Cure. One of the prizes was a package for some personal training time and boot camp classes at a small Martial Arts gym. I thought, could this be a sign? Could this be what I needed? I had heard about boot camps from different people and of course on TV. I never even considered attending one because, well, I just couldn't. I wasn't physically fit enough, good enough, strong enough. But something happened to my way of thinking over the past year. I realized that if I ever was to be "enough", I had to start somewhere. So, I bought some tickets. Actually, I bought a lot of tickets.

While I was waiting for the draw, I decided to go see what really happens. Sheepishly, I went to the gym with nervous butterflies. It turned out to be such a positive experience! I think I was expecting him to be a jerk with the ego the size of Quebec. But I was surprised. Ryan is a very down-to-earth guy, easy to talk to but I could tell immediately he pushes his clients to the edge. That's what I need.


Today was the day. Today was my first boot camp. Would it be my last? It is a class after all and I am not "a class" person. I woke early. Ate some oatmeal and drove to the gym. I was nervous. I was really worried I wouldn't be able to keep up and I would make a fool of myself. There were 5 other women there. One of the women looked amazing. She has a killer body, loads of confidence and a great personality. Ryan had told me before class started that she did not look like that when she started. She worked hard, did what he said and she was consistent. I looked at her and wondered to myself if I could do that. Could I reach that level of success? Was it possible for me to reach that seemingly unattainable goal that I have held onto for so many years?

Class started with some arm and leg swings and then it was down to business. Kicking, punching, push-ups, squats, burpees and a ton of sweat. At one point I looked at the clock and it was only 25 minutes into the class. I thought to myself "Am I even going to get through this?" But I did. I got through it. I didn't throw up. (I was worried) I didn't cry. (Also worried about this) I did, however, swear a lot.

I was partnered with a quiet gal who had told me she has lost over 100 pounds previous to joining this gym. She had another trainer but left her to workout with Ryan. She was patient with me and I said "I'm sorry" a lot. But I found myself more focused than I had ever been before. And something else happened. I was enjoying myself. I felt relaxed with these women. They were all at different levels of fitness and all shapes and sizes. But more importantly for me, not once did I feel judged.

Tomorrow is another bootcamp. It will be a little different as it won't be so focused on kick boxing. I'm sure all those same insecurities will creep in. Forty years of negative self talk does not go away with one boot camp, but I feel like I chipped a little bit of it away this morning. I know I will never be "skinny" and that is ok. I don't want to be. I want to be fit, healthy and most importantly, happy.

Evolving, Ending and Generally letting go....

“You MUST come to my birthday party!”
Ever exuberant, my friend was almost bursting out of her shallow skin as she talked about yet another event to celebrate herself.

“Ok...”
I was sure I heard a crack. My teeth were clenched so hard, forcing myself to keep my smile from caving in on itself.

“And we are having CHOCOLATE FONDUE!”

Thankfully she was spinning around herself so much that she didn't see me flinch as my heart dropped to my feet. She also didn't notice that I didn't respond. Her excitement did not carry over to me, but I continued to clench my teeth until my jaw seized up. I knew the “C” word was coming at some point in the conversation, I just didn't know when and I didn't know how. My friend has had a long, healthy relationship with that milky brown ex of mine. I expect one day she will have a life sized model of herself fashioned out of dark, Swiss chocolately goodness for all her friends to dance around in celebration. My relationship with “C” has been anything but healthy. It has been sordid, secretive and sloppy. It has brought me to tears, to my knees and to the brink of a place I didn't think I would ever come back from. Generally, a huge hot mess.

This friend and I have had an interesting history. It has been broken, repaired and cracked again. Our similarities have battled with our differences. I have accepted the fact that my friend is not going to change those things about her that are so polar opposite to me. I have learned to love the things about her that make me smile and ignore the things that make me clench my teeth. I have stopped being uncomfortable around her because I wasn't able to deal with the situations we found ourselves in. These situations usually consist of talking over heaps of food. She was eating to enjoy herself. I was eating to pretend I was enjoying myself.

I have summounded the courage within myself to become the person I never knew could exist but always wanted to be. That, has made me a happier person and a better friend. It has given me a freedom I did not know existed!! It has allowed me to walk away from situations that I know are not healthy or safe for me.

I am so thankful that I have been able to see things with a different set of eyes in the past few months. The things that used to be a source of anxiety for me have softened. I have been blessed with wisdom, strength and the hope for better things. For so long, I was part of a herd. Just following along with what other people wanted and needed, never even considering myself as part of the equation. Now, I feel as though I am being lifted up by a force greater than myself. My only job is to keep my connection with this powerful force open, honest and consistent.

Through all this, my relationship with “C” has also evolved. In fact, we broke up. We don't talk anymore. It is a toxic relationship and one I am not prepared to venture into ever again. I am not giving up my happiness, my joyousness nor my freedom for one more spin around the dance floor.

So, as my friend chattered on and on about the guests, the clothes she would wear, the food and wine, I was blessed to be able to notice the colour of the sky. It was sunset and the sky looked like it was on fire. The oranges and reds were dancing with the blues and white. Day versus night. They were different but they had to share the same space, at least for a little while. Then, they could rest until the sun came up and the dance would begin again.

Little Miracles

One of my co workers is an amazing cook. I mean, she is really too notch. This is a woman who can make boring beef stew an event that children of future generations sing songs about. She is also a pretty damned good baker as well. I know these to be facts because I was her willing sampler for many a cake, egg roll or soup.

Today, there was a birthday in the office. And my friend, ever eager to please, created a magnificent carrot cake that would make Ladies Home Journal stop and take notice. She told me that she would be making this cake for the birthday girl a few days ago. I put it out of my mind. These days talk of sweets has started to sound like Charlie Brown's teacher; indistinguishable garble. I ventured down the hall today, forgetting about birthdays and carrot cakes, to ask a question of some sort. As I opened the door, I could see it. It was almost as if it was standing on tip toes from across the room, to make sure I could see it, in all of its cream cheese and coconut frosting glory. Not that it needed to stand on tip toes since it stood about as tall as a toddler.

Now, in my old life of just over 5 months ago, my feet would have barely touched the floor on my way to get the biggest plate for the biggest piece to put in my big mouth. My heart would be racing in anticipation of becoming one with this sugary beast. My mouth, watering to taste something that really would have skipped right over my taste buds since I probably wouldn't have even chewed it. Five months ago, the cake would have won and I would have suffered with guilt, a headache and nausea.

Today, I barely made eye contact with this Ladies Home Journal cream cheesed and coconut frostiness piece of art, even though I could feel it staring me down. It was trying to break me. Clearly, it had no idea of the army I now have backing me up. I took note of the enormous pieces on all the plates, but I really just wasn't interested. I didn't even mourn the loss of that rush I once revelled in. At first, I thought something more powerful than my desire to devour that entire cake had taken over and guided me out of the moment. Then I realized, it didn't guide me out of the moment at all. The truth was in the whole five minutes I was in that office, I did not once even have the desire to take a bite. It didn't guide me out of the moment because I was never "in it" in the first place.

When I started program, I never truly believed I would even gain abstinence. But when I did actually consider it may happen, I had this Hollywood idea of how things would be. I felt there may be some sort of glow in the dark epinphany punctuated by some slogan or self- righteous lecture to the pitiful person who dared to offer me one of my trigger foods. But, it didn't happen that way. I was there, the cake was there. Then I left. It was really rather simple and quite uneventful. I left without a headache, without nausea and without guilt. In fact, once that door was closed I didn't even think of it again. I won. And it felt good.

God grant me the serenity....

I say these words, twice, every Thursday night. But do I really believe them? Do I buy into it? Do I trust that God, whoever or whatever that is will be able to grant me the serenity to accept that which I can not change? After 38 years of thinking and acting in such a self destructive way, can I really put my trust into something that I can not even be sure I understand? Will this enable me to make my way through each day peacefully? How could this be possible?


the courage....


Every morning I get up I wonder how I am going to manoeuvre through my day. How will I face the challenges that will be put before me? Am I to trust that God will guide me? I don't think so. How can I trust in something I can't even see? I guess that is what they call faith. Where am I going to find this courage to trust in something I don't understand? I do not trust. It is not in my nature to. I rely on myself and no one else. Period. Is trusting in something you don't completely understand wise?


the wisdom....


Reading, listening and letting myself be in the moment each day has helped me slowly and carefully find my way. I have discovered through the gifts of my friends on Thursday nights how to discover the serenity, courage and wisdom to battle my demons and fix that which ails my soul. There are no quick fixes and no magic pills to take away the pain and heartache of all the years of destruction I have done. The only solution is to be persistent, present in each day, being open minded and willing to accept help from those who have walked the same rocky road before me. As the prayer says, there are things I will not change simply because I can't. I have to accept this for what it is and put my energy into the things that I can change. I still don't understand what or who my Higher Power is but I have come to understand that is ok. It is slowly taking form. This is a process and not a race. I don't have to be the first one to the finish line. The key is to just keep going and hold my head high.


So, the next time that I say this prayer, God grant me the serenity to accept the things I can not change, the courage to change the things I can and the wisdom to know the difference, I can truly live these words and feel them in my core.

A New Day

Monday.
The day of eternal start-overs. Monday was the day I committed to a change I thought I would never make. At one time, I saw change as the enemy. I resisted, fought against and rather loathed change. It took a while, but I now realize change does not have to be the big bad monster I once thought. It is necessary to evolve and grow. Overtime, I have started to embraced change, seek it out, welcome it. On this Monday in November, change was coming in quite a momentous way. I still don't know if I was ready.

When I closed my eyes in the days leading up to that Monday, I tried to envision what the final product may look like. I still didn't know what he had in mind, but I had faith that he knew what to do. I guided him as much as I could, gave him the ideas in my head and hoped he could come up with something that I would be happy with. I tried several times to talk myself out of it, but I just couldn't. I would stare at my arm, trying to see it with all my favourite colours. I couldn't but I knew that I wanted to.

The excitement that brewed in my belly was boiling over when Monday finally arrived. Or was it fear? Or was I reconsidering? Still, I don't know. I took a deep breath got in my car and went to get Jazzy. Jasmine is the daughter of a dear friend. She was my back-up, my second opinion, my support. I don't think I really realized at the time how much I was expecting of this young, beautiful 19 year old girl.

I couldn't stop talking for the entire drive. I talk excessively when I am excited and become somewhat of an obnoxious extrovert. When I am nervous about something, I tend to shut down and go inside myself. I took this as a good sign.

I repeatedly told Jazzy to be honest, tell me what you think, offer up opinions or alterations. She assured me she would. When we finally arrived, I thought I truly may bust. It was really happening. I always had thoughts of making this change but never really thought I would have the nerve to do it. I always worried what other people, certain people might think. I was fully aware that there would be a backlash of sorts from people at all levels in my life. I think I have finally reached the point in my life where I just have stopped worrying about it...or at least have started to stop worrying about it. Living one's life by the standards of other people is really no way to live.

Derek is a sweet guy. I liked him instantly the first time I met him. He laughs easily and honestly. He has kind eyes and is a little shy. He showed us what he had drawn for me. My instant reaction was a happy gasp. I adored it. It is exactly what I wanted without really knowing what I wanted. I looked at Jazzy before I actually said anything. She was smiling, she looked at me and nodded her head. I looked at Derek and told him I loved it. He placed the sketch on my arm for general placement. My heart was racing with excitement. I tried to calm myself.

Two months previous, I had gone in to see Derek on my way home from work. It wasn't completely impulsive since I had been thinking about doing it for quite a while. I went in, told him I wanted something, anything! He drew up a teeny flower and got to work. It hurt. More than I remember from the last time I had it done. My hand was shaking and continued to shake for a few hours after. As I stood there, in the shop, on that Monday I thought back to that day. I knew this was going to hurt even more and I really tried to prepare myself.

We went into the back of the shop while Derek prepared his tools. I was pacing and I am sure I was rambling on and on, but I have no recollection of what I was talking about. He finally said "Why don't you have a seat and relax." So I did. Once he was ready, he sprayed my arm, put the transfer on, then, that familiar buzz. He asked me if I was ready and we got started.

The pain was unique and like nothing I had experienced before. I whined and instantly regretted that I did. I wanted to be tough and impress. I watched him and then I didn't and then I watched again. We talked, joked and laughed out loud. Then it quiet except for the buzz of the gun. Then we laughed again. He asked me if I wanted a break. I said no. I just wanted him to finish.

After a little over 2 hours, I started to get really warm, and a little dizzy and then the nausea hit. I told Derek he had to stop. I got up. I needed to get my land legs back. I quietly cursed myself and tried to will this silliness away. But it didn't work. I went and sat down on a stool. I could hear the talking, but it made no sense. The next thing I remember is a face really close to mine but I could not register who it was. Then it hit me. That's right, I am in a tattoo shop, getting and enormous tattoo on my forearm. Then the pain came back and the nausea hit me like a ton of bricks. I ran to the bathroom. I could hear Derek saying "It happens, it is no big deal" to Jazzy and the shop helper. But it was. I was mortified. I gathered myself and went back out. There were chimes of "are you OK?" and "please eat this chocolate" and "sit down over here" all around. There was no judgement, but rather simply concern. Jazzy is a tattoo artist herself and she has had people pass out on her as well. I apologised over and over, but was reassured it truly was not a big deal. They were more concerned that I was OK and they kept pushing the chocolate. I was not to stand and couldn't leave until they were sure I was alright. As embarrassed as I was, I was more comforted by the concern and reassurance. I am glad I came to this shop.

It's been over a week since that Monday of change. I have not had one ounce of buyer's regret or wishes of going back to a less colourful arm. If anything, there are plans on an even more colourful arm. I've gone back to see Derek and apologised again. We laughed and talked about expanding it. He will finish it when it heals.

I think I will go back on a Monday.

Beautiful Things

I often wonder what it's like to feel comfortable in your own skin. It is a concept that quite frankly is foreign to me. Can other people pinpoint the time in their lives when the image of themselves was sealed in their minds. I can't remember how old I was, but I know I was at least 6 or 7. I remember it happened on Terra Nova Avenue. And I remember it was Kevin Bubel who spoke those ugly words that gave me the first image of myself. I didn't even know what it meant, but I knew by the look on his face and the reaction of the others around me that it was bad. And my poor self image was set and only intensified from there.

Ever since that moment, I have been battling with myself about how I believe I am perceived by the people around me. It has affected every aspect of my life, ruined relationships, prevented me from doing things that I want to do. It has made me hesitant, distrustful, angry all the time, resentful and unpleasant to be around. The simple act of getting dressed to go out with friends causes so much stress, I've often broken down and feigned illness to avoid being seen. I would rather sit home stewing in my own misery, then try to find something to wear to go out with my thin, beautiful friends. I believe that inevitably, I would be ignored, looked over or made fun of at some point in the evening. Going to war with yourself every waking moment of every day is an exhausting process. Trying to end that war is even more exhausting.

So, what do I do? I move to Asia. Land of the waif. Brilliant, yes? Initially, I thought that moving there would help to change me. Transform me into the person that I want to be. But it didn't. It only solidified the horrible perception I have of myself even more. I thought the judgement at home was bad. Hearing "No big sizey" over and over just made things worse. I remember one particular incident when I was on my way to work. Two ajummas were walking toward me, and I could see that they were staring and talking about me. As we passed each other, they stopped and watched me pass. They had looks of disgust on their faces. At that point, I lost my composure. I yelled at them, "WHAT? What do you want?" Yelling at them only made me look worse, I suppose, but I really could not control myself.

Being on the receiving end of criticism for being fat chips away at any self confidence or self worth I may have. Maybe this is why I photograph things. Being behind the camera is a comfortable spot for me. It takes away any potential for the spotlight to be on me. Finding beauty in places where others may not see it is almost like an accomplishment for me.

These feelings are so ingrained in my being, I don't know if I would know myself as a self confident person. And yet, I continue to try.

Transitions

I have been home, in Canada, for almost a year and yet, I am still struggling with this transition. Still finding myself saying, "I just got home." Still waiting for the moment when I finally feel settled in. Eleven months, and it still has not hit me yet.

Within the 3 and a half years of living and working in Korea, my mind would constantly wander to that moment when I could get on the move again to get home. That was my ultimate goal, wasn't it? And now, 11 months into my being home, my mind still wanders back in time to eleven months ago. Am I just nostalgic for the good points of my time there? Or am I just wishing for those things I don't have?

Eleven months ago, I could list 100 or more reasons why I needed to leave, needed to go, needed to "get the hell out of Asia". The smog, the crowds, the endless intrusion, the lack of personal space, the lack of open and empty spaces, the constant staring, the ever present film left on my skin from the lack of true, fresh, clean air, the humidity....my god, the humidity! And then of course were the things I missed from home. Clean air, fresh water, the ocean, being able to go outside and be alone rather than having to stay inside to be alone, my family, my friends, driving a car.

Now that I am home I find myself listing in my mind, lots of reasons to go back. I miss my friends, the easiness of life, the freedom, being accountable to no one but myself, and of course the money flow. In reality, my friends have mostly found their way in other places, their homelands, or are on some adventure in a far off land. There is also some distortion in my perception. I know this is true. I realize I am almost romanticizing my time there.

The other part this transition is I am becoming that person that no one likes to have around. I am becoming that person who says "Well, in Korea we did things like this...." "If you think this is bad, you should have been in Korea...." "When I was in Korea..."

I hate that person.
I swore I wouldn't be that person.

I am not sure of many things, but I am certain that I am not where I want to be. As I sit back and examine my life and where I am today, eleven months after coming home, I know change is eminent. Even with all my nostalgic thought, I am quiter certain the change will not take me back to Korea. But there is more transition to come.