Workin' On My Fitness

For most of the summer, I have not been going to the gym. Over the past 8 years I have been a 5am gym rat. Wherever I have lived, I always make sure a gym is close by so I can keep up with my exercise routine. For a month or two here and there along the way I have taken a break from sweating my guts out everyday but I always start craving it and get back to it.

This summer I hit a wall. My motivation took a deep dive and there was no bribe or deal that I was able to make with myself to get my lazy ass moving. I haven’t missed the creepy Italian guy who wears the same black sweat pants and white t-shirt everyday. He talks loudly to the other 50 year old men while they strut around the gym like they are 25. He drinks his coffee in-between sets and stares at me. Sometimes he tries to talk to me and lets me know that he’s a nutritionist and work out guru. PLEASE!

I have turned a corner.

For the past few weeks I have been gettin’ my sweat on almost everyday. I've changed it up and started going after work. I don't see creepy Italian guy in the evenings. It feels good to get back to pumping iron and rockin’ the elliptical but I’m still struggling. I have to force myself into it most days and remind myself that when I’m done I will be…“ harder, better, faster, stronger”. When I drag myself against how I feel and discipline my laziness, I don’t regret it. Today was one of those days.

Harder To Believe Than Not To

I was recently reminded of the lyrics to this song written by Steve Taylor. A great song indeed!

Nothing is colder than the winds of change
Where the chill numbs the dreamer till a shadow remains
Among the ruins lies your tortured soul
Was it lost there
Or did your will surrender control?
Shivering with doubts that were left unattended
So you toss away the cloak that you should have mended
Don't you know by now why the chosen are few?
It's harder to believe than not to
Harder to believe than not to
It was a confidence that got you by
When you know you believed it, but you didn't know why
No one imagines it will come to this
But it gets so hard when people don't want to listen
Shivering with doubts that you left unattended
So you toss away the cloak that you should have mended
Don't you know by now why the chosen are few?
It's harder to believe than not to
Some stay paralyzed until they succumb
Others do what they feel, but their senses are numb
Some get trampled by the pious throng
Still they limp along
Are you sturdy enough to move to the front?
Is it nods of approval or the truth that you want?
And if they call it a crutch, then you walk with pride
Your accusers have always been afraid to go outside
They shiver with doubts that were left unattended
Then they toss away the cloak that they should have mended
You know by now why the chosen are few
It's harder to believe than not to
I believe

I Heart NY!

It’s quite possibly the cheapest T-Shirt ever. 6 for $10 was the going rate on Canal St. yesterday. I didn’t try but you could probably get them to take even less. I don’t think anything sold by vendors on Canal St. has a fixed price. Chinatown is one neighborhood in New York City where goods are negotiable much like any street market found in Bangkok, Thailand. Rolex watches, Gucci and Coach hand bags as well as Tiffany’s jewelry all for a fraction of the price you’d pay in a store makes Chinatown one reason why I heart NY. (This kid knows what's up!)

Yesterday, Angie and Kari (my 2 sisters), Sean (my brother in law), Travis (my brother) and I took a little trip into the city for a fun-filled day trip. Walking to the subway, we turned the corner at Broadway and 43rd St. and were stopped by a bottleneck of people with cameras in hand. The sidewalk was blocked. Thinking we were going to see P. Diddy or Regis Philbin, I readied myself to become part of the paparazzi. Using my elbowing and scooting skills, I inched forward to see the main attraction. Only in New York City does a cop atop a horse become a celebrity. This is another reason why I heart NY. (This couple's trip to NYC is now complete.)

The 1 train was nearly empty yesterday afternoon when we took it uptown from Canal St. However, a homeless black man rode with us. He had a child’s car seat strapped to his back filled with a bundle of clothing and he was talking to himself. Somewhere between 34th St. and 42nd St. he launched into a puppet show with his hands. He used quotation gestures to make one hand talk to the other while bobbing his head from side to side. When the train stopped at 42nd St. and the doors opened, he didn’t get off but he took a poker chip out of his pocket and threw it onto the tracks. He did get off at 50th St. with us and we watched him walk up the street a few blocks. He eventually threw the car seat on the sidewalk and kept on his way. New York City is home to all types of people with all types of stories and because of that, I heart NY. (I didn't get a picture of the puppet master but this is Travis, Angie and Kari on the 1 train. Trav, sorry about the pole in your face. Kar, love the black market Coach bag!)

After we went to see Cirque Dreams (in the picture below), the Broadway show that is a knock off of Cirque du Soleil, we went to Carmine’s for dinner. Carmine’s is a famous restaurant where they serve family style Italian food. Usually reservations are required unless you are willing to wait an hour or two to get in. I’ve been into the city countless times and always wanted to go to Carmine's but never wanted to endure the wait. Last night, as all the Broadway matinees were getting out, we walked into Carmine's just to see how long the wait would be. There was no wait! We were seated immediately! In New York City, there is always something to do that you haven’t done before and always the possibility for the impossible to happen.

After traveling to 45 of the 50 United States and 6 other countries, it’s still my favorite city.
For all these reasons and so many more...

I Heart NY!

Pursuit

I don’t pursue. It’s not in my nature, it’s not in my personality but sometimes people need to be pursued.

I’m not good at it. I’ve been disappointed in many of my attempts at it so generally I don’t pursue anything or anyone. I will make a move in the direction of someone or something that I desire but if I get shutdown at all, rarely will I ever embark in a full on pursuit. I often struggle to know if what I desire is really what is good for me so I allow obstacles to be signs that maybe I shouldn’t be pursuing it anyway.

Unless…

I get a sense that I need to stay a little longer or dig a little deeper or try a little harder.
There are times I can pinpoint when I have had an unexplainable strength that I normally don’t have. It’s that knowing deep in me that I must not give up but rather keep asking, keep standing, keep loving, and just keep on no matter what.

As a woman, I would much rather be pursued than be the pursuer when it comes to relationships. Be it a man or a woman, I don’t like tracking people down. I don’t like getting in anyone’s business. I cringe at the thought of being overbearing to anyone. However, sometimes a friend has no strength to reach out, yet is in desperate need to know love and that someone cares. This is when I need to get off my self-centered ass, risk rejection and chase that friend down.

This is what I’m learning to do. Its not always fun. I take one step forward then I shy away because the result wasn’t the way I wanted it to be. Then I inch into another step toward my friend. It takes vulnerability and being open to getting hurt. Pursuing people is something new to me but it’s what is being asked of me in this time and I am up for the challenge.

Empty

You're addicted to thrills?
What an empty life!
The pursuit of pleasure is never satisfied.
Prov. 21:17

Dropping Insecurities of Old

Talking with a friend this week, we began to discuss how insecurities are manifested in older generations such as our parents. As we compared our experiences and our perceptions of our parents’ insecurities, I had to stop and consider the ways in which these same things have been inadvertently passed on to me.

There are things that we inherit, not because we have discovered them to be true or untrue for ourselves but because that is all we have known or how we’ve been taught. These are not things that were directly taught to us but rather ways of thinking that were instilled in us indirectly by example. These things are not always easy to spot. Most pocket sized insecurities, we are unaware of.

Maybe it’s the way I respond to someone who doesn’t return my phone call. Maybe it’s the conclusion I assume when someone doesn’t invite me to his or her home. Maybe it’s the way I lose trust in someone who hasn’t appreciated my kindness. Maybe it’s the way I place expectations on people or situations that are unrealistic and then I lose faith when I’m let down. Maybe it’s the way I self-protect so I’m not disappointed.

If I’m not intentional about dissecting the things in my life that I have picked up and carried with me, then I run the risk of maintaining a cycle of generational insecurities. I have plenty of my own junk. I cannot be all of who I am if I am packing baggage from a previous generation.

As I got off the phone with my friend, I realized that questioning the root of my insecurities is something that is necessary in my life. If I don’t develop a way of thinking that questions my own ingrained thought patterns, it will limit growth in my life.

The Breakfast of Fencing Champions

I wanted to be Mary Lou Retton.

As a youngster, I was a gymnast and when Mary Lou made history in the 1984 Games by being the first American woman to win a gold medal in gymnastics, I was sure that I too could make Olympic history.

“Mom, how old do you have to be to get into the Olympics?”
“15, I think”, she replied.
“Ok, so I will be in the 1992 Olympics then.”

I made my mom buy Wheaties because Mary Lou’s picture was on the box. I hated Wheaties. They weren’t sweet like Frosted Flakes but I choked them down because if I wanted to be like Mary Lou Retton, I had to eat my Wheaties. I was secretly happy when they took her off the box because I didn’t have to eat them anymore. I made my mom buy enough boxes of the bland cereal so I could mail in the required number of UPC labels to get an autographed 8x10 poster of my Olympic hero.

I’ve always been a fan of the Olympic Games. This year, my excitement for Beijing was slow to get started. Abi, my youngest sister, is the Olympic Wikipedia. She started spittin’ out stories and stats of Misty May-Treanor and Kerri Walsh which propelled my interest in Beach Volleyball. Of course, who hasn’t heard about Michael Phelps and his magical accomplishments? A little too good to be true, the pessimist in me made the Debbie Downer comment that I hope we don’t find out in a couple of months that he was on performance enhancing drugs… wah,wah,wah.

By now, I have watched a little bit of many different events. Track and Field, Rowing, Badminton, Marathon, Diving, Cycling, Equine Jumping, among other normal Olympic Summer Games.

One event that I had never seen before was Fencing. The United States won the Silver medal in Men’s Fencing Team Sabre. I’m not the Wikipedia on Olympic events so I don’t have all the facts but from what I saw, it’s high tech medieval style sword fighting. The competitors wear armor looking outfits that have electronic sensors in them that register the “hits”. I don’t understand the scoring system and I didn’t do the research to figure it out but I think I’ve found a new goal for my life.

London, save me a spot. Wheaties, will you put a “Fencer” on the box? Forget gymnastics, I want to be on the United States Fencing Team in 2012.