PUSH Plus Fitness

p>#44DaysOfFocus Day 7 - “Clubbin’ on a Cleanse”

Saturday night. Time to let your hair down. Hit the club. Sip on a drinky drinky. Right? ABSOLUTELY!

Last night was another test that had me question my decision to cleanse. But, I powered through and was extremely proud of myself. I kicked it. I enjoyed great people, music and drink…….smoothie that is.

Prior to hitting the club, I made a smoothie to take with me. I knew it was going to be a long night and I wanted to be prepared. No more repeats like Friday.

Clubbing while cleansing was a great challenge of mental strength. THIS has been the main takeaway of my10 Day Green Smoothie Cleanse. I am stronger than I think!!

As a personal trainer who believes in a multi-dimensional approach to wellness, I’ve never looked at “Intellectual Wellness” as mental strength. This new discovery is teaching me how to truly affect greater change.

Babies, I challenge you to put your mind to one task for four days. Just one task. Stick with it. Enjoy the sense of accomplishment that comes along with it. U got this!

#44DaysOfFocus Day 6 - “Unnecessary Anger!”

Wow, yep. It finally kicked in. That moment when every single food started calling my name. That moment when anger clouded my decisions. That moment when I second guessed my decision to cleanse. Yesterday, was that day!

I started out GREAT. I had an herbal tea about 10am and ate my greens at 11:30am. Then, I got off track. Nope, I didn’t go crazy; quite the opposite. I didn’t eat or drink until 4ish when I finally stopped shopping and came home and made my smoothie.

My smoothie was AAAMMMMAAAZZZIIINNGGG!! I was kicking myself that I didn’t make it earlier. Fast forward to 8ish when it was time to have “date night” with hubby.

I didn’t want to drink my smoothie on my date, so I modified my plan for this one night. What a difference it makes when you are intentional about your food selection.

Verse Three

Although I’ve spent most of my life in Kansas, the most at home and at peace I ever feel is near large bodies of water. So, it doesn’t  surprise me my three most transformative adventures in this quest have involved water. The first time I saw an ocean, a tremendous weight lifted from my shoulders. I had such a distorted sense of my size that it took the sight of an ocean’s vastness to grant visual confirmation there was actually something bigger than me. I could relax. I felt that same divine relaxation with water walking and then with kayaking. The former increased my strength and endurance and the latter buoyed my confidence and bravery. Which leaves one more water adventure to share. The chances of me actually doing this third thing were too far-fetched for it to even make it to my Things I Will Do At Least One Hundred Pounds From Now list. The third thing was skinny dipping. Yes, as in swimming with nada, zilch, nary a stitch of clothing on. My tremendous insecurities, and the lack of a private place to launch this adventure, made the chances of it ever happening incredibly slim to virtually none! It rarely crossed my mind, which was just as well because I was a woman still waging body-image battle. Then, as life and fate would have it, once again, trusted friends found a way to ferry my skinny dipping idea to a reality. Looking back, there is a synchronicity in how my  water experiences built upon one another—how each one enabled/empowered me to do the next one.

Last summer, on a moonlit night, with stars bearing witness, in dear friends’ gorgeous pool, I swam naked. Initial self-consciousness gave way to delighted giggling which gave way to permission to let go—to relax. What followed was a freedom, a lightness and a belonging that I don’t recall ever feeling before. That sense of freedom, lightness and belonging left an impact which has stayed with me—fully clothed on dry land. The very first movements a body makes are in water wearing only skin. It makes sense to me that swimming in my birthday suit brought about a rebirth. I swam and I delivered myself from yet another thing I considered myself too fat to do.

Many times improving health is thought of in terms of what we eat and how much we exercise. What I’m learning is there are experiences beyond food and activity I must look toward to totally FIT—to totally Find Inner Truth. Otherwise, I may wind up lighter, but not necessarily better.

In many ways, water is a symbol of the situations we immerse ourselves in– how each situation is impacted by our mere presence. I think I held the fear/lie that my unclothed presence might sully the water. It did not. It’s the bare truth, a naked fact—we are, in our essence, totally worthy, entirely acceptable and utterly lovely.

This quest continually requires me to reveal myself in ways I would have not have thought possible. Each adventure has begun with some degree of fear/uncertainty and required a greater degree of trust/bravery.  Just a thought—are there things you need to become bare to in order to know yourself? Who/what represents a safe place for that to happen?

#44DaysOfFocus Day 4 - “I might be slow, but I’ll get it!”

Babies, yesterday was a true success. I actually enjoyed my smoothie AND I learned a valuable lesson about willpower.

I WANT THIS. I WANT THIS FOR ME!

I made the decision to document my first 10 days because it’s important for people to “see” that the struggle is real. I struggle with nutrition.

It may not show, but I do.

I love bread. I love chocolate. I love fried foods. I love pasta. I love pizza. Food makes me happy. Probably too happy!!!

I’m learning that I can still love food; however, I need to love myself MORE!!! I need to get away from the world of justification and swim in the sea of small portions and clean eating for awhile. Whoda thunk that I would ever have an egg, cucumbers, grapes, strawberries and starfruit for dinner? Sho not me!!! Don’t get it twisted, after this cleanse I WILL get me a Reeces Peanut Butter Cup!!! Then, I’ll incorporate my favorite foods ONCE a week:-)

Babies, I challenge you to just THINK about doing better. Yep, just think. Take some time to prepare your mind for this journey. Trust me, it’s worth it. U got this!

#TheHealthHippie www.pushplus.fitness Text PUSH to 25328

Verse II

I ended my last blog sharing about how vital water has been in my quest for best health. I started water walking at a community center and I gained strength and endurance. One of my water walking friends coordinated a kayaking adventure for women who’d never done it. When I heard a group talking about it, I was ecstatic—for them. Inwardly, I was sad that I was not physically able to join them. I figured I was way too fat and my mobility was still too limited. Then the group actually suggested I go kayaking too! I thought they’d lost their minds and/or greatly misjudged my ability. I said, “No Way!” The kayaking adventure was planned with a group called “Dirty Girl Adventures.” When I heard that name, an old mental tape admonishing me “girls should not get dirty” played in my head. Not that kayaking didn’t sound appealing. Quite the contrary, it enthralled me! It ranked high on my list of things I wanted to try. The list was titled “Things I Might Consider—At least 100 lbs From Now.” I was around 315 lbs. Even my vivid imagination couldn’t picture me in a kayak. But the more objections I presented to why kayaking was impossible for me, the more my friends assured me I could. I smiled as we discussed it, but the smile hid a boatload of fear that  1) there wasn’t a kayak made that could accommodate my weight and 2) even if it held my weight, my severely arthritic knees wouldn’t allow me to get in and out. Still, my friends persisted. Good friends are like that. I did research and contacted the leader of Dirty Girl Adventures, the “Dirty Mother” herself. I shared my concerns about my weight and my knees, expecting/hoping she would confirm my fears that I was too fat.. To my surprise, she didn’t dissuade me, she encouraged me too! When I bore my soul and told her I was afraid I couldn’t  get in and out of the kayak without embarrassing myself and my friends, she assured me her team would help.

I was terrified the day we arrived at the lake to kayak, but, I was also determined to walk (and paddle) through the terror. The most important thing I did that day was to give myself the gift of accepting help. Rather than telling you what happened, I offer you this picture. Within the thousand words this picture is worth, are triumph, gratitude, pride and pleasure. I entered the water afraid and exited transformed. I hadn’t sullied the water, I’d blessed it. Water didn’t reject me for being too fat, it welcomed me—fat and all.

I’ve kayaked a second time with no terror and a lake’s worth of joy. With kayaking, just like with water walking, I put myself in full view of my support system and, when they told me I was able, I believed them. Good friends are more than just support, they can be mirrors—if we let them.. When you feel unworthy or unable, listen to your friends and believe them. When you lack confidence, allow them to lend you theirs. True friends love you not only for who you see yourself as, but also for who you don’t yet realize you’ve become. We are at the mercy of many internal “No Ways!” Trust the “Yes Ways!” of friends.

Hello All! Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Annette, aka “Verse,” so named by my  health mentor, Chris Omni. I love the name. It connects me to poetry, music and the Bible. I’m excited to begin this blog! I look forward to sharing what I’m learned, thus far, in my quest to make my body and spirit F.I.T.

This year found me overwhelmed by consequences of morbid obesity which I’ve carried most of my life. In May, I weighed 338 pounds. My arthritic knees needed to be replaced and my back remained weak despite a fusion surgery. My mobility was so limited, I found myself approaching a need for a motorized scooter. Walking more than a short distance caused shortness of breath and severe joint pain. I hurt so much that even walking from the handicapped parking at my job was too far. After swallowing my pride and asking, I received approval for a “prized” close parking. It was far more an embarrassment than a perk.

Every activity I planned or was invited to was subject to how far I would have to walk. The misery of physically getting to an event usually outweighed my enjoyment. Still, I maintained my smiling game face because I wanted to hide how immobile I had become. As my mobility declined, my secret misery increased.

Then, on the morning of June 1st, my spirit was stirred. The stirring was a request for me to begin a quest—a quest to attain a level of health I’d never known. I responded, “I’ll try.” It was a Monday and I decided to launch my quest when the noon tornado sirens blew. Their sounding be a symbolic announcement something powerful was about to happen. I listened to the sirens very carefully that day. They’re usually considered a warning and, truly, that day they were a warning to my multitude of obstacles—they were about to be removed! The health success I had sought my entire life, was getting ready to blow in—like a tornado. As those sirens sang, I felt myself do two things which may sound contradictory—I suited up for battle and I surrendered. I wasn’t clear why both battle and surrender would be essential, but I trusted the process.

I realized, Day 1, that movement would be absolutely vital. The problem was, chronic pain makes a body say, “Don’t move!” It felt counterintuitive to move joints that howled in protest—joints overburdened for years by the crush of massive weight. How could I ask my tired, pained body to move more? But I did ask, and this body, though weary, consented. I discovered my body possesses an innate desire to better itself despite pain. No matter what it costs in discomfort, my body understood it has to move. So move, it did. That movement began in what has become an ally to me—water. With encouragement and support of friends, I began water-walking at a community center. I quickly discovered movement in water was not only possible for me, it was enjoyable. The zero entry pool eased me into an experience that taught me the benefits of being among supportive people. People of all fitness levels walked there—from the very fit to the painfully mobile—like me. Thus began my transformation from a sedentary life, to one filled with additional intentional activity. That is what “exercise” is for me—additional intentional activity. I’ll share more ways water and support have impacted me in the next blog. Until then, each Monday, may the sirens signal something powerful for you.

anetfullofhope@gmail

Broken: Hiding Behind the Mask

Part of being #imperfectlyperfect is the ability to share with you that there are times when I have to eat my words. For instance, I can wear a manufactured smile day after day and outwardly project that I have my stuff together. But a smile can hide so much. It can hide tears, anger, frustration. . . Luckily, ultimate FITness includes being able to admit when you are down and when you need to reach out to the helping hands that are already lifting you up. None of us can carry the world on our shoulders. Currently, my pain is hiding behind a mask of boosted workouts, talking to friends and calling on my mentors for strength. Admitting that you are in need of a hug, a shoulder to cry on or just to laugh is human and it is more than okay to admit.

I want to share a song with you that is near and dear to my heart: “Beautiful Beautiful” by Francesca Battisetlli:

Can you make it beautiful?

Can you help me love this place?

Cause I feel inadequate for the trial that I face.

No one can paint the picture of your life like you can. Others may occasionally cast a dark shadow on it but you have got to see past that nonsense. Diamonds don’t just happen – they only reveal themselves after an immense amount of pressure and a lengthy amount of time. But we all know what the end result is – one of the most beautiful gems in the world. Reclaim that pressure and use it to become a diamond. SPARKLE! You can make your broken beautiful, more so than you have ever imagined.

No one can convince you to love where you’re at in life but you. You may be facing trials that no one knows anything about or you may be dealing with hurt and confusion that’s difficult for anyone to wrap their minds around. We have all been there and it doesn’t feel good. Look at the place you are in – how did you get there? Why are you dwelling? How can you move past it? Maybe you feel as if your world is crumbling down around you while you stand there, powerless to slow it down, much less stop it. In that moment, you need to make a plan and set a few goals to take back control of that place where your mind, body and soul is at peace. Do not be afraid of mistakes – we all stumble. Making this place beautiful will not happen overnight nor will it happen without a few hiccups along the way.

You have been and always will be enough. You ARE NOT inadequate. No trial or tribulation can stop you, a diamond in every sense of the word, from sparkling. I am here in my moment of struggle sharing words that I must also heed. Do this along with me – look at that broken place you’re in and make a list of what you can do to turn it around. Date that list and stash it where you will see it often. Let it serve as a reminder that you are enough, you are beautiful and you are amazing. You are a diamond and no one can take that away from you.

Two years ago, specialty stores like Lane Bryant and Avenue, and retail stores like Walmart and K-Mart were just about my only options for clothes to dress my 400 pound body. At that weight, I was pushing the limit of being able to comfortably fit their clothes and I had to purchase my jeans from an online store because none in town carried any in my size. My wardrobe choices were limited not only by size but by price as well – plus size clothing can be a bit pricier than its smaller counterparts.

After an almost 200 pound weight loss, I still catch myself wandering in the plus size sections when I’m shopping because my head cannot wrap itself around the idea that I can shop in “normal” stores and “normal” sizes now. I wore clothes to hide when I was at my heaviest in an effort to blend into the background which was surprisingly easy to do considering my limited attire options. Now, I am finally to a point in my life where I feel better about my body and I am wearing clothes that make me feel good, that make me proud of all my hard work. The journey to FITness has allowed me to shrink my waistline which then opened up a whole new meaning of dressing my body to better reflect how I feel on the inside.

Outfits during my heaviest times consisted of four staples: solid color shirts, stretch jeans, black stretch pants and solid color sweaters. My goal was to find the most neutral colors like white, black, gray or very light pink. You may be asking why I would limit myself like this. The answer is quite simple. All it took for me to cloister my bright colors, my whimsical patterns and such was one classmate I had in high school. We will call him Glen*. I remember it clearly – we were sitting in the band room watching a recording of our holiday concert when I heard this shrill, “I’m up to no good” voice from the back shout, “What IS that huge red blob in the back row?!? Who is that?!? OH MY GOD they are taking up half the stage!” This slanderous diatribe was hurled in my direction while Glen was staring directly at me. He knew what he was doing and he knew it would sting. It did. Badly. Up until that point, I felt so grown up, so beautiful in that get-up because I had borrowed that sweater from my mom along with one of her necklaces. In a matter of seconds, his words sent me out of the room, crying. To this day, I hesitate to wear red because it feels like I am inviting more Glen-like insults.

Eventually, I got to the point that I quit caring how clothes looked on me – if it fit, I wore it. I hoped and prayed no one would ever see the inner thighs of my pants and how constant rubbing together had worn holes into them. I stopped counting the times that my expanding backside would start to rip the pockets off. My philosophy on dressing myself dwindled down to deciding which potato sack blouse I could wear that would cover my belly.

Then there was the dreaded matter of dolling myself up for a special occasion. Dress shopping became an even more arduous task because it seemed like all the plus size dresses were sleeveless or terribly unflattering. In my mind, no one wanted to see the bat-wings of a 400 pound marshmallow woman out in public. I know I didn’t. It was a horrible time trying to find something that fit, looked good on me and was not $200 for a dress I would wear one time.

I stand here now, browsing clothes in the misses and junior section – foreign territory. Secretly I feel like a traitor. I am not supposed to shop here. I have been shopping in the plus section since the first grade. I am not a size large top. I am not a size 14 in pants. I am just a traitor in smaller sizes. A great friend who is like a mother to me finally insisted we go shopping. She made me try on prints, stripes, sheer blouses and much to my horror, dresses. Out of habit, I grabbed XXL’s thinking, “This is what I need.” She would follow behind me like mothers do and hand me L’s or XL’s knowing that I would be drowning in the XXL’s. When the smaller size actually fit and fit well, I smiled and cried at the same time because it was like I could finally wear clothes I liked. I could finally wear clothes that make me feel pretty, I could find that perfect date-night dress and I could pull off that eye catching top. It felt good.

It was in that moment when I realized that I could have had those feelings at any size. I had limited myself because I let Glen’s hateful comments convince me I was ugly no matter what. I did not want to ever be ridiculed again for being too bright or standing out too much. It struck me like a flashy, rhinestone encrusted, form fitting bolt of lightning – I had allowed one jerk to strike down my desire to wear clothes that made me feel beautiful. Who cared that the scale read 400 pounds or 195 pounds?! If someone did not like what I was wearing, they could easily stop looking! I did not wear clothes for the. I wore them for ME.

Hear the words that I am saying to you now: do not let a Glen squash your appeal to wearing whatever it is you may want, however you want. Rock it. ROCK IT. Rock every sexy curve, every single solitary inch of your beautiful body. It’s all #imperfectlyperfect. Don those sassy pants and sexy top then stand in front of a mirror and repeat after me, “I look good. I feel good. I love the body I have and I am going to rock this outfit!”