fitness and nutrition

Streaks

I had a goal. It was a goal I didn’t even set for myself until I was well into working on it. Maybe 200 days into it, I guess, I realized I was within striking distance. A long streak. An unexpected one. And then I wondered, is it even possible? Thinkable? An entire year?

It kept coming closer. 65 days. 30 days. 2 more weeks. And finally, just last week, I reached it. A buzz on my watch on Friday afternoon. And a smile that only I knew the cause for.

To think, I started this in the throes of Corona. Way back when we had no idea what was going on or how long it would last. Gyms shut down. Stay at home orders. Working from home most days. What could I do?

I couldn’t do much, but I could MOVE. And move I did.

Some running, some walking, some hiking, some biking, some farming, some CrossFit, too many burpees and not enough yoga. Every day different. But it was at least 710 calories worth of movement for 365 straight days. No misses. No changing the calories, either. There were a handful of days (maybe 30) when I didn’t complete an official workout, but most days I did. Even still, accumulating calories means moving throughout the day. Hard to do when your work is mostly on zoom.

Were there days I didn’t want to? Sure. Days when I was doing burpees at 9:30 pm to get over that finish line? Yes, there were a few of those too. Some days were easier than others. Every day is another day to move and be successful.

I also know I’ve had a fair amount of luck. I haven’t been sick or injured this year, which means fewer excuses and obstacles. I’ve been able to choose myself, and choose I have, every day.

Consistency is key, as many people I admire and emulate say. I have been consistent. It has shored up my mental well being as much as my physical health. Most days I’ve taken a whack at the stress monster before the sun even dreams of coming up. On the many days this past year when I felt like life was out of control, I could at least control this.

A thankful post. The streak keeps going. Who knows for how long? Every day is an opportunity. To breathe, to move, to live.

celebrations

Whirly Adventures

It was that time of year again, where you age another year. How do you want to celebrate such a day? For me it’s about smiling with friends and doing something that will create memories. The planning was put in motion and a date was on the calendar.

This year Whirlyball was the venue. A group celebrated in grand style dressing up as vintage gym class heroes or zeroes. The theme in itself was so fun with the outfits. Then came fun games, cute name tags, awards and so much more. No detail was left out! The digital invite, the themed cookies, homemade cupcakes, and special people.

Whirlyball was of course the main attraction. A bumper-car-type mode of transportation with a manual steering crank of sorts. Using one hand to navigate, another hand to scoop n’ throw and then a gas pedal to put you in motion is definitely a challenge but it’s so much fun. You will have to Google Whirlyball to watch the videos but it’s so much fun. It takes skill to make a score. But failed attempts are just as fun as the score itself.

Boom, zap, bang, giggle, snort, scream are the words you hear over and over. Some bumps were intentional some not so much. The smiles and laughter of all attendees was just right for me. Many experienced Whirlyball for the first time. For me it was a repeat but the company made for an event to remember.

Celebration of another year is one thing but adventures with like-minded people is really the best medicine for anyone. Community was a big part of this year’s festivities. Seems like so much had been missed in the past year since my last party. 

5-0 is the next birthday bash for me. Wonder what adventures will follow? I guess you will have to wait and see. I will leave you for now with some of my photos as I chronicle my active lifestyle online.

Don’t forget to see if Whirlyball is near you. Everyone should try it at least once.

awareness

I Went to Jail

I legit went to jail. Not in cuffs, not as a visitor. I went as a contractor. This vantage point was different. I got to observe the inmates cleaning. It’s their job to keep that place immaculate.

I got to observe the line formations by gender. I saw the orange jumpsuit uniforms. I heard the specific directives while in line such as “eyes forward, no talking.”

It was a lot to take in. I thought about all my freedoms. My ability to choose. My ability to say yes or no. Inmates have no choice, no independence, no rights, and certainly no individuality.  I couldn’t last a day in jail. 

I love my freedom to choose.  I love my independence. I love my individuality. Having a glimpse of what this life looked like is confirmation I never want to be there. I certainly applaud those who make it through the challenges of incarceration for those serving time as well as those outside the walls supporting them.

Today I got to leave the jail.  I didn’t get to share a smile. This was hard for me because I like to offer hope through positive actions and not being able to share a smile is hard. Maybe next visit I’ll find a way to share hope. Maybe I’ll work on my winks.

As you read this post think about those incarcerated who are suffering today. Say a prayer for them tonight.  

3Splitz Farm, dare to be different

Target Dress-Up Day

Cousin Sally thought it was a great idea. She made a post on the west coast about a #targetdresschallenge. the super ugly Target dress experience piqued my eye. Of course I bit to represent the southeast.

Off to grab the ugliest Target dress one could find. Settled on the orangey rust colored frumpy dress fit for a polygamy wife. It might have been the only one available. Set the first photo shoot destination at the rustic paradise named 3Splitz Farm in Blairsville, GA. Put the date on the calendar. Wrangled up some friends to join the fun. Dusted off the cowgirl boots. Now I’m ready for the click-click-click of the camera.

Wonder who will join me? Wonder if there will be a second photo location? So much to think about. It was a sunny Saturday after a long rainy week. Three girls and guy made the trek to farm. We laughed, we giggled, we played dress up. Who doesn’t love dress up day? How to wear your hair or the hair was the next big decision. Hat or no hat?

We used the iPhones to snap away as well as the fancy camera. We heard a lot of click click click in between the giggles. We had a barn as a changing room. Playing the role of a super model is a hard job. We might have even gotten a little sweaty. Each individual had their own area on the farm to pose how they wished. Below is a glimpse just for you.

Serious but sexy Kobe. Working girl Beth. Momma Kim calling out supper. Riding caboose was the infamous brunette named Karen. We got a few group shots to add flair and tossed in some black and white photos.

One dress. Four unique individuals. Four different poses. One challenge. This all leads me to the road called perspective. We each have own unique perspectives in life. Sometimes perception seen on the Internet  is not reality. It’s just for fun.

None of us live the frumpy dress life daily. That’s a given. However we love life and opportunities to have fun or poke fun with each other. Judge as you may. We had the best day ever. Dare to be different daily. 

From dress up to dress down this group was all smiles. No matter the outfit, the smiles persisted. This post may have the most photos I’ve ever shared however it’s a photo shoot post which equates to lots and lots of photos. Surround yourself with a group of people who make you smile. Travel to new destinations. Capture the memories. Hit repeat. It’s pretty simple. 

challenges, fitness and nutrition

Duathlon DIY-Style, and 2021’s OLW

One of my goals last year was to challenge myself to a duathlon. I ended up registering for a summer triathlon which was pushed back until next year.

I had all but given up on this goal at the end of the summer. After the race was postponed, I lost my excitement and drive to train and learn for the event. It wasn’t until a friend rallied a group of gym women around an engine building cardio challenge that I found the will to run and bike again with any kind of regularity.

I knew I wouldn’t tri this year, but a duathlon wasn’t out of the question. I decided not to register for an official race at year end. But I wanted to at least complete a “ceremonial” sprint duathlon to have a benchmark and a check mark. So I went for it one frigid December morning just after sunrise. Just me, my playlist, my essentials and my mileage counters. On my mark, get set, go.

3.1 mile run. The mist was rising off the lake. Bridges were still slippery from the chill and the dew. Three loops, making my way along. Not too fast, but not too bad

Transition to the bike. Fleece hat off, helmet on. Legs adjusting to the pedals. Skittering along. Ups, downs, loops. The sting of the cold on my face. Losing feeling in my hands as I watch the miles tick, tick, tick away. Singing along while avoiding potholes and traffic. I finally found a quarter mile loop for a soccer field off the beaten path. Rode it again and again and again for about 8 miles. Only a quick stop for a carb boost in the middle. Then back to dancing on the pedals. Saddle soreness set in at mile 8. Toe cramps began at 10. I held on to finish the 12.4 mile stretch. Ended this leg averaging 10.9 mph which is actually a decent pace. If I had been on flats the whole time it would have been quicker. Lifting and loading my bike with frozen hands was a challenge all its own.

Then the final crunch. The one you train for. The one that hurts. Off the bike and into the last run. When I trained for the tri early this year, I read about this transition and how brutal it is. The quick pace of the bike makes that last mile grueling at best. I started pretty well then it quickly deteriorated. As the mile wore on, I just willed myself forward. I passed a committee of vultures. Keep singing. Dodged piles of goose poop on the path. Keep moving. Step after step. One at a time. No stopping. Knees hurting. No breaks. Just all ahead as much as I can.

I finished. No crowds no medals no beers or cokes. No parades or high fives. No banana no T-shirt. But I checked it off. I don’t need festivities to know what I have done. Didn’t quite make it under my two hour goal, but sometimes completion is the victory in that moment. I will get that goal next time. I’ll take my imaginary participation ribbon thankyouverymuch.

A DIY-duathlon gives you a lot of time to think. My mind couldn’t help but wander as I looped around and around. As much discomfort as I felt, I thanked my body for carrying me through those 17-plus miles. My mental and physical stamina made it a successful effort. A year like this one makes me realize all the more how much these different types of health are worth.

I’ve shared many times how much I love words and wordplay here on the blog. In those bike miles, I found my mind playing with the word duathlon. I bet many people didn’t even know that was a word. Then I broke it into do-athlon. Which led to a good long think about the word “DO.” I am such a thinker, often an overthinker, and not always such a do-er. I decided in those miles that my word of 2021 will be DO. It will be my year to jump in and get things done. I’m still settling into this word and what it will mean for me. I hope you’ll read along wherever the path leads.