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Archive for the ‘health’ Category

Work-out writer: Music to get you off your ass – excuses just piss me off – time for some WHUPOW, y’all.

askyourdoctorWelp, did y’all think I wasn’t going to come back to this here blog? Nah. I’d never desert it. However, this here’s what I believe: you can be a good writer but that doesn’t mean you can keep up a good blog with tantalizing posts and goldenfire words that draw people by the hundreds–hell, I’m lucky if I draw people by the tens *haw haw!* Same goes for books – you can kick the ass of writing to whoopeetown and back, but if’n you ain’t got a story, then all you have is a bunch of well-written words strunged together–what? strunged ain’t a word? It is now — haw!

So, while I have a good ole time on my Facebook page (and it’s a regular ole Facebook page and not one of those “like” thangs so come join in), I’m not as blabbity here. There are so many other blogs out there that are kick ass and where the blog writer knows just what to do to make it shine. I learned how to tell a story in my novels and am doing pretty well in that regard with my readers (y’all are big ass buckets of awesome!), but I still haven’t learned how to take a blog and make it kick ass. Dang! I’ll leave that to the Blog People on High.

cartoonDSC08450-001So have you been working out? If you are shaking your head no, then come here. Come.Here. Closer. Cloooosssseerr. CLOOOOOSSSEERR. *FWAP!* that’s me smacking you upside your head! Get your ass out there and get moving! I ain’t play’n! And same goes for writing. I don’t want to hear no excuses. Shut up. Excuses piss me off. Yeah. Now, come here. Come.Here. Cloooseerr. Naw, I ain’t going to smack you again! I just was going to plant a kiss where I smacked you, cause I’m sweet like that *MUWAH* I know you like it.

If you are looking for some good heart-pumping music, I am suggesting the 50 Techno Trance Anthems collections. I have three of the volumes and am quite pleased with them. Most have that beginning that starts you off, then builds you to a frenzy, then pulls back a bit, and then WHUPOWS! you again–great for interval training, for which I strongly suggest you try.

I don’t listen to music while writing, so it’s up to you if you use this music for that. But it’s good for traveling, too, or cleaning the house.  These are the three I have – you can purchase them from iTunes for your iPod or shuffle, or from Amazon as MP3 or whatever.

Get moving. Get Writing. Stop whining. Stop complaining. Okay, you can whine and complain sometimes–I know I do!–but if’n you are doing that and not accomplishing shit for shinola, then it’s time to take stock.

Now go kick the ass of the day!

50-Techno-Trance-Anthems-Vol-4 51o2-ZK30CL._SL500_AA280_ 51ZLWzdy4bL._SL500_AA280_

Work-out writer: the sneaky hidden world of eating disordered thinking in women over fifty

The photo that started it all . . .

The photo that started it all . . .

Last year I wrote a post entitled: “Does this obsession make me look fat?”

There’s been a lot of talk lately about eating disorders in women over fifty. Well, I would guess that while there are some women who are dealing with this issue for the first time, there are an awful lot more of us who have had eating disordered thinking most of our lives and have just hid it really very well or have had it under control. Then, according to what is going on in our lives, the eating disordered thinking may rear up its ugly head right as we think we are at our most confident and powerful: in our fifties, the time of our lives when we are feeling the most kickass, when we don’t care what people think, when we say what we want and live how we want. Imagine our surprise when eating disordered thinking sneaks up and bites us on the ass. What? Me? Wait a minute now! I’m not that teenaged girl any longer. I’m not that mixed up frightened little thing. I’m strong. I’m sexy. I’m ready to take on the world.

What the hell is going on?

The “experts” will tell you and/or your family and friends to watch out for these signs:

‘. . . there are signs to look out for that may indicate someone has an eating disorder. These include: precipitous weight loss or low weight; withdrawing from family, partner and friends; evidence of binge eating or purging; extremely low self-esteem and body esteem; not eating with the family; avoiding events where there is food.” (Taken from HealthDay by Steven Reinberg)

What goes on behind the eyes of a woman?

What goes on behind the eyes of a woman? Secret secret things.

Sure, those things are true for a certain group of women—but not for us! We aren’t like that. We’re out enjoying life. We’re reaching long-hoped for goals. We’re walking with our head up and eyes forward. We are feeling sexual power. We are power. If you looked at us, you’d see a woman who is in pretty good shape–not too thin at all. We may look pretty danged good “for our age” – hell, maybe for any age.

But there is the sneaky hidden eating disordered behavior that no one may ever know.

We’re told that eating disorder in aging women is because “fifty is the  new thirty; seventy is the new fifty,” and yes there may be some truth to that, for some women. Not us!  We have taken care of ourselves; we feel awesome; we feel sexier than ever; we will be kickass well into very-old-agedom. We are not our grandmothers kind of grandmothers. We strut. We look back over our shoulder and say, “Yeah, you think you can handle this much woman? I dare you to try.”

Though it doesn’t start out that way, it quickly becomes about Control. Think about it: what else is completely under your control? Since the time you become aware that you could tell your mommy, “No! Don’t want it!” you have been able to control what goes into your mouth. And what goes into your mouth, or not, has the side effect of affecting your body size—a double whammy of Control. While the outside world can twirl about you; while people—your boss, your spouse, your parents, your friends, your editor, your colleagues, a stranger on the street—take their pieces of you; well, by golly gee, they can’t force you to eat! They can’t dictate what your body looks like! As your body changes, your power grows. Look at you! Control! Control! It’s both as simplistic and as complicated as all that. Even if you don’t really believe that’s what it’s all about, this is a truth that must be explored.

What you really tell yourself is, “I like myself like this.” And you do. To a point. But the toll must be paid. Tolls always must be paid.

We lose our daddies

We lose our daddies

Sure, our aging bodies can frighten us a bit, and it isn’t only about what we look like, but thoughts about our mortality. Our grandparents die; our parents are nearer to death or they do die—we are next in line. Every line or wrinkle is another sign that life is heading towards death. And not just physical death, but what about the death of dreams? Or desires? Or what about the death of health? Or good looks? Or time to do the things we want to do? And there’s nothing you can do about growing older, kiddies. It’s a fact of life, growing old, and then death.  And when we arrive at Very Old, will we look like ourselves? A fear is: We don’t want to look like someone we don’t recognize. We don’t mind becoming older, just let us look like US! Don’t let our face and body melt into a stranger’s face/body. We want to be able to look into a mirror and see the person we have always been. To recognize our faces as ours.

I suppose for some, gaining weight would mean we do not look like ourselves.

Oh, it’s heady powerful stuff. As the scales lower, there is that thrill—look what I have done! Look at the control I have! I am powerful! I can plan, plot, quirk my food and my body into whatever I want it to be, just by my own strong free will, by will-power.

Will. Power. WillPower.

For many  of us in the fringes, it never reaches the anorexic stage, or the bulimic stage, the binge and purge stage.  The “under weight” stage. We find that stuff distasteful. Yuck. They aren’t In Control. We are! We find the sweet spot of Control just at that edge, just at that spot where people would never know the struggle we are going through. We still are within our healthy BMI; we still eat—we don’t avoid food situations, and in fact, may embrace them, for we can eat whatever and how much ever we want, for tomorrow is another day where we’ll just eat less to make up for it. Ha! Fooled up, sumbitches! We don’t binge and purge—gross! That’s for the “crazy ones.” We don’t starve ourselves into emaciation—why, that’s for those obsessive whiners. Give us some credit, whydontcha. We walk that fine line of eating enough while still maintaining our control. We exercise and we eat healthfully, but we also know how to manipulate food just enough. Just enough.

We are many times highly intelligent and highly motivated and goal driven women–and for some of us, people don’t see this in us, so we give them what they want: A perfect sexy body they can objectify. Then while we have their attention, we kick their ass with our smarts and our insights. WHUPOW! Gotcha! Suck on that!

Will.Power.

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we have to remember that the jeans we bought to fit our new bodies are supposed to be tight, we bought them that way. They should stay tight.

The danger comes when the weight drops lower than you meant for it to. Oh oh. You tell yourself you won’t go any further. You tell yourself you’ll gain back a few pounds. You tell yourself this, but by then the Control Demon has its claws in you and you must tread carefully now. You don’t want to be one of THEM. You put on muscle, eat more protein, find ways to walk that fine line of “healthy but thin.”

It isn’t always about what we look like—for really, there isn’t a true concept of “what we look like,” for when we look into the mirror, we do not see what everyone else sees–no one really does, it’s just for us, the body dysmorphia is more acute. And, honestly, one day we may feel quite good about ourselves, fit and thin and wonderful, and the very next day we may feel willy nilly bound; oh my god oh my god am I gaining weight(losing control/losing will.power)?

If someone would hear us say, “Oh my god! I’ve gained two pounds,” they may roll their eyes and say, “Get over yourself! Two pounds! Get real!” But what they may not understand is that it is not the two pounds itself that is the problem—it’s the fear of careening out of control. Two pounds leads to three and then four and then six and then ten and where does it stop? If we are not vigilant, two pounds becomes more and more and more, and what if we can’t stop it? What if we gain and gain and gain and gain and gain . . . No! Must.Gain.Control. We do not like the out of control feeling and it must be Stopped.

Because we are better than that. We are too powerful to let something have control of us!

I'm not listening. I'm not listening. (Yes, I am too listening - please shut up).

I’m not listening. I’m not listening. (Yes, I am too listening – please shut up).

People who do not struggle with eating disordered thinking would see that two pound gain as a shrug in their lives. People with eating disordered thinking sees that two pounds as weakness. Are you weak! No! Get back on the program! NOW! Do not relax! Vigilance! You are stronger than this! You can beat this! And when the two pounds releases out into the air and off your body, it’s almost sexual, an orgasmic thrill. Oh yes, yes, yes, yes, oh god yes.

There are many thrills to the eating disordered life. That’s why it’s so powerful. We may start out only trying to lose a few needed pounds. Perhaps we’ve been going through our lives and step on the scales one day and go, “Oh oh. You have let yourself go. You idiot!” We really mean it when we tell ourselves we will lose those extra pounds and be happy with that.  People notice, and we feel better, yes. Good. Done. But . . . wait. Hold up. The little voice cajoles, “Lose a couple extra, just in case. That way, you’ll have a cushion! You can relax some. Doesn’t that sound wonderful?” Hey, that does sound great! So you lose a couple more pounds. The compliments rise, and you feel even better.

There comes the thrill of seeing the scales bow to your power, to your will. You are kicking the ass of those scales. You are In Control. Yeah! WILL.POWER!

I am light. My body is under my control.

I am light. My body is under my control. What else can my lighter body do? Exciting.

You lose a couple more, maybe even accidentally. You think, why not? Your clothes are fitting looser. You feel lighter. Your body is buoyant! Your body can do things it couldn’t do before–move in ways it couldn’t, bend in ways it couldn’t, exercise in ways it couldn’t, have sex in ways it couldn’t; it is pleasing, pleasurable, giddy, heady.

When you lie down at night, your stomach is flat and you can feel your hip bones—and this becomes one of your litmus tests. If you lie down and can’t feel that slight concave belly and those hip bones, then You Are Out Of Control! Oh oh.  You begin to like the way you can feel some of your bones under your skin, not hidden by layers of fat, no, but right there, so beautiful, the body is so very beautiful. Your body is beautiful. The curves and knobs and sharp planes and muscles that you manipulate with your hand. Your partner slides his hand along your body and you hum and shimmer–he can feel it, too. You still have enough body fat to be curvy and soft, but you’ve lost enough that as you explore your body, as he does, you/he feel all the new nuances of it. Your ribs, your hipbones, your collar bones, the tiny waist, the lean muscle. Your cheekbones ride higher and you think maybe it makes you look more knowing; there, those cheekbones below your big dark eyes full of deep dark secrets.

When you work out, your body is light and airy-air-borne. It flies over the treadmill, as if your bones are hollow, yet they are hard as a boulder, unbreakable. You are unbreakable! You feel strong, competent, powerful. People begin complimenting you more and more. Men stare appreciatively, and even younger men wink at you, tell you that you look hot.

You feel a sexual thrill you have never felt before–they are under your control now, helpless–who’s the little bee-otch now, huh? I am in control; you are in my control.

Your clothes skim your body, rubbing against your skin, nothing spilling over, no binding. You could almost float, so light you are!

And meanwhile, (practically) no one is the wiser. No one knows your obsessive thoughts about food and weight. No one knows the fear and anxiety. No one knows your need for control. No one knows that sometimes you go to bed hungry because you “lost control” and ate too much earlier that day or the day before. No one knows how you don’t know if you ate enough that day and because you do not want to become One Of Them, one of The Crazies, you force yourself to eat more the next day.

No one knows that hunger, your growling belly, is so fucking scary, for it means two things: you need to eat, your need to eat.

Sometimes friends will know what's going on because they know you best, and they'll miss the extra you.

Sometimes friends will know what’s going on because they know you best, and they’ll miss the lost part of you.

No one knows that every time you step on the scales you tell yourself not to be happy if you’ve lost weight and not to be sad if you’ve gained weight. Then, if you’ve gained weight, you try to calm the out of control feelings. If you’ve lost weight, you try to calm the tiny little thrill that shimmers up your spine.

In my post I linked to above, I listed how my weight began to drop, and my feelings about it at the time. And now? . . .  No, I did not gain back to 120; no I did not stay at 116. Yes, I am stable where I am now, and I must be, because I will not be one of Them.

I am Will.Power. Stand back. Get out of my way.

Don’t get too close now . . . . that’s right.

People are at all times prone to their own stupidity. We're sorry about that.

People are at all times prone to their own stupidity. We’re sorry about that.

Control. Power.  Isn’t it ironic? Because, really . . . yes. That’s right. You got it. We are so good at justification. We are so smart. We are so stupidly smart.

Work-out Writer: Are you giving up and giving in?

Keep your eye on the prize, y'all

Keep your eye on the prize, y’all

There are times I’m doing my treadmill aerobic dance (flailing about in a jittery wild ass KAPOWIE not caring if I look like an idiot) and my heart rate climbs, I’m sweating, my legs beg me to stop, my breath is one big pant pant pant–but I don’t stop, not yet. I keep going until  the song is over–even the seven minute long techno music (previous post) that tries to kick my ass to Kingdom Come. I allow a little bit of a “cool down” to let my heart rate slow a bit, and then I HIT THAT THANG again–*sound of whip cracking across my ass. Oh it hurts soooo goooood.*

Is it easy? Hells-no. And that’s what makes it worthwhile. That’s what makes it heart-pumping YEEHAW! That’s what makes me feel on top of the world!

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Goal accomplished, fit in the jeans, and found me some f**k me pumps WHUPOW!

Who the hell said things were supposed to be easy? Doing what’s difficult and kick-ass is what brings about results. Do you want results? What are they? Be specific:

I want to fit into a pair of skinny jeans and f**k me pumps and to be able to wear them with a fitted shirt without “muffin top” or belly bulge–and why couldn’t I do that in my fifties? What was stopping me from my goal? Not a goddamn thing but my own self thinking “But I’m 55!” So what? (of course, as I always tell you–you must see your doctor in case there are physical limitations); I want to feel better and what does “feel better” mean?– to be able to hike the mountains, be stronger well into my 60s 70s 80s and beyond, to have good blood pressure and pulse, for the doctor to say “You are in great shape, don’t come back until next year;” I want sexual power; I want to look good in my clothes, yes, but also for them to feel good on my body; I need help with stress (lawdy yes); etc etc etc.

ass kickDon’t just say, “I want to be in shape/be healthy.” What does that mean? I dunno. What does  “in shape/be healthy” mean for you? The more specific you are with your goals, the more you will keep your eye on that “prize.” And the fewer times you can use excuses like, “I don’t wanna.” Yeah well, Get your ass to work anyway! Why? Cause I said so that’s why! What in hell are you waiting for? Miracles? Someone to take you by the hand and pull you there kicking and screaming? Ain’t you worth it? I know I am. So, in a month, six months, a year from now, will you be making the same goddamn excuses then as you are now? Uh huh. Check back in a month, six months, a year, and let’s see what you did with your time. Huhn.

I believe in you; so why don’t you believe in yourself?

Who cares if anyone is watching? Have fun.

Who cares if anyone is watching? Have fun.

I recognize that not everyone is going to love working out like I do–I am one of those people who actually looks forward to it and if I miss, I am not worth a crap.  But how do you know you won’t be like me? How do you know you won’t begin to enjoy. Show up. Do the work. Find your joy.

I feel this way about the writing, too. Until I don’t. Lawd. Then I look for the magic again until I find it.

Do love what you do? Do you love yourself?

Do you love what you do? Do you love yourself? Why not? Ask the hard questions and then find the answers.

Writers: this goes out to you, too. Sometimes this job is hard. Sometimes it kicks our ass but good. Are you gonna give up? Are you gonna stop when things are a little hard? Get your kickass on and stop whining and crying and carrying on about how difficult this business is. Shit, I know that–I’ve done my own crying and whining, until I decided I was sick of myself crying and whining. Instead, I went back to work. That’s what we do–we show up; we work hard; we don’t give up.

We aren’t always going to have exactly what we want from this business–but we can kick ass trying, y’all! We can do the best goddamn job we can and let the rest work itself out how it will. We can be proud of what we’ve accomplished–it isn’t all about what you may think it’s about. Maybe, just maybe, it really is all about the work, the thing that makes you show up every day, the thing that gives you joy, and all the rest is just icing on an already iced cake.

loitering through life ain't allowed, all y'allses

loitering through life ain’t allowed, all y’allses

When things are difficult, push on. You’ll learn when you truly have reached your “end,” where you know you can’t do or give any more than you are–and then maybe, just maybe, you can push it a little farther/further.

Work-out Music of the day: Benny Benassi – Satisfaction

If you explore your past and still ignore it, then why bother to know at all?

There are some people who can trace their family line back to some little city in some little country way on back. There are some who can trace their family line at least back to a Great Great Grandmother or Grandfather.  We could leave it alone, for who they are, or were, is not who we are, right? Well, the actions and beliefs and diets and places that shaped our past relatives led to who we are—with each generation tweaking and refining in one way or another, for “good or for bad,” however you will look at this, and look at it you must, so that your decisions can alter to what is healthful in mind, body, environment, for our children and their children and all those who follow.

In the “evolutionary” (genes) process, there are many things at work to shape who we are mentally and physically, and ideally and spiritually. Why would you only have that dark dark hair from your Great Grandpa Joe? Maybe Great Grandpa Joe passed along some wonky kidneys or pancreas, too, and his fear of spiders? Hey, maybe his Grandma Mary got it from her Great Great Grandma or pa, and on and on and on. We say, “My grandmother died of heart disease, and my father has a bad ticker, so I’m going to exercise and eat healthfully so I will live longer and stronger. . . . ” Then either we do this, or we don’t, and life either goes on or it doesn’t, a change is inspired, or not.

If you explore your past and still ignore it, then why bother to know at all?

Oh look! A rock. I am looking at the rock. You are looking at the rock. GMR is watching me look at the rock. I saw the rock. I see the rock and saw it and looked at it.

Oh look! A rock. I am looking at the rock. You are looking at the rock. The rock has no awareness of our looking. Dang.

We can look back to see what mistakes have been made and learn from them, right? Right? On many different levels, not just of which are our health, but of survival of the species and our planet, right? Right? We take a thought, an idea, and we roll it around in our head, and then we make action from that thought or idea . . . how wonderful our minds and bodies are! But, how responsible it makes us for so much more than a cat’s or dog’s or pig’s or a frog’s thought processes would be responsible – for they can’t articulate for change as we can. A tree, a river, a rock – can they create from an idea? Seems we have the run of the place when it comes to that! ha! Well! Huhn.

I can decide. I have choices. With the brain and thought processes we have been gifted with comes responsibility to use them to affect some change for the “Greater Good,” right? For survival of the species and of our planet and its other species . . . Right? For our own bodies/minds, and our children’s bodies/minds?

What we pass to our children and they to theirs and they to theirs and they to theirs can often be changed by Choice, Action—and what will people look like and act like 100 years from now? And what will their kidneys and pancreases look like? What will our environment look like? Will we have learned how to protect what needs protecting? Our children. Our Land. Our physical bodies. Our Waters—better protect that water, my friends . . .

Better. Protect. Our. Water.

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Somewhere long ago the journey to you and to me began shaping our attitudes towards our bodies and minds. Somewhere long ago It Began for Us, and then time and time and time passed, and like branches on a very strange and giant family tree, or trees, we began to split and grow out in different directions. The roots go down and spread as well – tangled and deep, too tangled and deep to follow, but beautiful and fascinating and uniquely the same.

 

He scratched his belly. The strange rumble there itched and pulled and ached. It was time to fill the emptiness. Behind him, crouched under a shrub, was his mate. Her belly was swollen, round and hard. He turned to her and they made eye contact. She touched her belly, rubbed it in circles. Her itching and pulling and aching had been different since the swelling. He knew this because she needed more to fill it. He knew it too from her grunts and sighs, the way she would not lay still beside him as she used to, but move move and move.

He sniffed the air. Up ahead there was both food and danger. Leaving his mate behind, he moved quietly across the hot dirt. He knew it would be harder doing this alone, but his mate was too heavy, too slow and clumsy to be of help. He scratched his belly again. An awareness pushed, and he touched his head. Something captured there, then gone. He stilled and waited, for he knew if he rushed headlong, he would become the meal, instead of finding one. The pushing awareness returned, and his eyes opened wider, became brighter. He ignored the emptiness and backtracked, sniffing the air, looking for footprints – like his own. One wasn’t enough. Two was better. There was another like him without the swollen belly. Another like him in other ways, too.

Over the hard earth, he ran to find the other who is like he is—one wasn’t enough, two was better, mate could not, other one like him could. Other one like him had a mate with swollen belly. One alone, no food—together, better to find food. The pushing eased, his belly empty would soon be filled. His first idea. His first awareness of seeing outside of himself to More.

The Work-Out Writer . . .

DSC_0015Work-out: In my personal trainer days, I used to tell clients to “listen to their bodies” to let them know how much they could do. I now recognize how this isn’t always the case. Sometimes our bodies/minds want to fool us, because it is Hard and we don’t always like Hard. If we give up because something is difficult, then nothing great is ever accomplished. Something pushing through the hard stuff rejuvenates, takes us places we never thought we’d go. We become stronger with every hurtle we sail over–even if we smash into a few hurtles along the way and break a leg–haw! Okay, maybe we don’t wanna do that, but I certainly have sported quite a danged few bruises–my badges of Badness, yeah!

On the flipside of that: if you are over-working hoping for an over-night miracle, stop the hell doing that. Along with our hard work comes a dose of reality: it takes time to develop a strong and healthy body, especially if we’ve been sitting on our asses waiting for it to magically happen for us. Lawd y’all, and please stop listening to those infomercials–they lie. I know! Hard to believe our faithful televisions sometimes spout lies! Whadya know . . . huhn.

Writers: Working hard and not expecting an “over-night success” applies to our writing lives, as well. Sure does, uh huh! You can talk about it, or whine about it, or hope about it, or you can sit your ass down and do it. Ain’t no magic.

dsc09606Work-out: Sometimes we want some chocolate(or pick your “poison”), dammit. Sometimes we wanna sit on our asses and do nothing but eat crap and feel depressed and not do a danged ole thing. Some days everything feels sucky. “I can’t run a maratttthooonnnn.” “I’m tired of not eating what I waaaant toooooo any time I want tooo.”  Well, y’allses, when we sit on our asses and gobble down an entire box of chocolates or ten ton plate of pasta or Big Mac and fries and shake and fried apple pie, feeling sorry for ourselves and the state of Everything, welp, what happens is we feel even worse than before—inside and out. Our bodies will be bloated and sick from Crap Overload.

Better to treat ourselves to just a few pieces of that chocolate(or whatever), savoring every bite and feeling happy. Better to eat 80-90 percent Well/Healthy, and 10-20 percent Crap. Yeah, that’s easier to swallow, right? If you know you can eat, say, 10% to 20% or so of crap, the rest of the 80% to 90% is not so hard to swallow, right? riiiggghht. Cause it’s going to take you to a better body and mind and heart and guts and veins and lungs and heretoforwith so let it be written so let it be done.

Writers: Received another rejection? Feeling like shit? Well, you gonna lie back and let that suck you into the dark abyss of depression/over-eating/over-drinking, or you gonna get back up and try again? Try 10-20% whining and crying and then get back to the 80-90% work.

Work-out: It’s fruitless and stupid to compare ourselves to Any One Out There: say that loud and say it again and again and again and ever more again: Don’t compare yourself to others. Carve your own path. And, geez, you don’t know who is comparing themselves to You and wishing they had what you had: just say’n’!

Writer: Above, redux. Yeah.

156Work-out: Getting in shape/staying in shape and eating healthfully isn’t always easy, but once there, the feeling is like no other. A strong healthy body will take you into the minutes, days, months, years of your lives, and not in some half-assed way, but in Kick Ass way! Don’t you want to be in this life for the long-haul, and not just “in” this life, but fully immersed?  Then do it. Excuses are just that, and they’re boring and fruitless, and get you No Where. You ain’t foolin’ no one but yourself—nuh uh. Find your truths and learn to ignore your sneaky excuses/justifications–and they can be sneaky.

Writer: This business isn’t always easy, but ask yourself: Is this what I really want to do? Am I ready to be in this for the long-haul? Do I love writing more than my right arm? Am I ready to sacrifice? Can I handle the rejection without breaking up and breaking down? Sometimes this is the easiest best job in the entire danged ole world, and other times it sucks like a big fat suckity sucky britches—but I for one know I love it more than my right arm and have, and will, sacrifice for it.

Work-out: At the end of a grueling work-out session, find time to stretch those muscles, and then just as important as the work-out and the stretch comes the quiet moment of reflection. Time and distance from wants and needs will lift us away as we respect our bodies, minds, hearts.

kat on pierWriter: When the writing day is done, find a moment to reflect on this writing life. Calm the voices, the rejections, the expectations, the harried hurry and the long-ass frustrating waits, and remember just why you love this life so much. The raw beginnings of it, when it was just you and a white space of whatever in the world you wanted to say to anyone who would listen, even if it was only your own ears. Find that joy in quiet reflection.

dsc09608Work-out: Night comes. Time to rest the body. Rest is as important as movement. A good night’s sleep prepares you for the next day’s challenge. Let go and sleep sleep. Be grateful for the body that carries you from day to day. Keep it healthy and strong and then give it rest.

Writer: Ditto!

Finally, give yourself a big ole break, okay? Really, there isn’t a one of us who can tell you how to do this work-out life or this writing life and why and how much and for how long—only you have that power within you. Relax. It’ll all be okay. Your journey will not be mine and mine will not be hers his yours. Calm. Calm.

Namaste.

(Portions of this post were posted in another post when I posted about a post about a post similar to this post when I posted while not feeling kickass because GMR gave me his germs and for once I didn’t fight then off, so this post is sorta like another post, which posted the post of posty posted post, most post-like. And do you know how hard it is for me to admit I caught some flu-like illness from GMR? Me? Mrs. McToughass Britches? Yeah, I’m pissed, and humbled, and all ARGHY, and achy! Even the kickass are knocked back sometimes. Post ya later!)

When you think you’re f**ked – and not in that fun bend me over the couch kind of way . . .

[Disclaiming exclamation to my son, brothers, and mom: Dang, sorry if y'all blush at that above, or the other thang I'ma going to say later in this post (No. 4), or the cussin'  - dang.]

When you think you are sick—I mean really sick, like possibly Cancer Sick, the world takes on this kind of slow-motion aching acute weirdness. Now let me clear up right now that I am not sick (in body-haw! – my mind is a whole other issue) and I do not have cancer, and in fact, I am in solid, good, disgustingly great danged ole health. But over the last few weeks, well . . . I thought maybe my time had come, even though it made no sense to me.

I thought it was that time. You know, the time where the doc looks at me with pity and shakes his head, while I sit there stoic and wide-eyed, and as I walk out of the doc’s office, the nurses are shaking their heads, “. . . and she was one of the HEALTHY ones! Why, if she’s sick, then none of us has a chance!” Fade out, on to funereal scene where my ashes fly in an arc into the air as my friends and family shake their heads and  . . . um . . . anyway . . .

The entire thing mimicked a sitcom—the comedy or dramady—where misunderstandings, miscommunications, mistakes, missed calls and strange cryptic messages, all conspired for a perfect storm of discombobulation that led me to be convinced that Something Bad Was Wrong With Me.

It’s funny how our mind works, how it expands to take in what is complete bullshit but at the time doesn’t feel like bullshit at all—it feels Real. How like the clichéd snowball negative dark thoughts can be, flying down the hill as it grows bigger and bigger–it becomes The Blob, devouring all rational thought.

here lies Kat’s hat without Kat, and her rocks, *lilting but soaring music here*

And even though I told myself how healthy and Kick Ass I have been feeling, it seemed at every turn there was a show or magazine article about some woman who was “So healthy and vibrant!” and then it turned out some weird amoebic cell with grave intent was hiding in there allllll aloooong, just waiting to cut her down in her prime!, and without her even realizing it! Dang!

I thought about how arrogant I am about my health—I’m one lucky bitch when it comes to being strong and healthy. I have relatively few complaints, and am in great shape.  Yet, my snowball thoughts careened over how strong  and healthy and stubborn and willful and determined and sometimes really stupid I am—stupid as in ignoring injuries, or ignoring symptoms if it means I can’t get out there and do whatever the hell I want to do. The negative-dirty-snowball flew by screaming, “Yeah, that’s the person who gets sick and doesn’t know it! The one who walks around all cocky in her health! You gonna DIE! YOU ARE FUCKED!”

 

Well, sheee-iiit, of course I am going to die one day. When or how is a secret no one (yet) knows and that’s fine by me. Thank gawd I can laugh about it now, yeah. Beats walking around in a fog of “Oh crap. I ain’t ready to go. I need to finish this novel. I have to clean out my closet. I need to go see my granddaughter. I just grew out my hair and what if I lose it? (Yeah, I really did think that—omg, how vain! *snark*).”

Perfect Storm

But you know what? I didn’t think, “Whyyy meeee!” I thought, “Well, why not me?” I mean, it’s not about being brave or being tough when you face something head on and butt it like an old stanky goat. It’s about “That’s just life. We live and then one day we die, and sometimes really sucky shit happens and people die sooner than others, too soon, achingly soon, heart-breakingly soon, devastatingly soon.” No one is more privileged than someone else. No one is more special than someone else. No one gets a pass from the You Are Fucked arena, because sooner or later something comes along to end it all. Yeah, don’t most of us hope to “end it all” when we’re very old and lying in bed with a sweet smile. But, if not, then whatchoo gonna do? And I can say with certainty that way better people have gone before me, and some way too soon.

Whenever I’d have thoughts of some bucket list (and I never wrote one of those, just never have), I thought I’d want to travel abroad and do all this cool stuff like jump out of airplanes and white-water rafting while shouting “WHEEEEEEEEE! I’m still alive (for now)!”

But guess what? Nawp. Not so. My “last days” list was very very short, with one item that made me go “Really? Seriously?” and when I told GMR about No. 4, he looked at me as if to say, “Who is this woman I married?” Or maybe the look was “Can I watch?” haw!

Here’s my short list:

  1. Spend time with my family and friends—lots of time, oodles of time, time of time of time itself.
  2. Meet Ellen DeGeneres because she’s just a cool woman full of light and she’ll make me feel happy—and I don’t want a thing from her, not a thing but a hug (well, see no. 4 –haw!).  I mean, is there anyone else so full of light and hope and love and sweet and support and encouragement and fun – and we could dance.
  3. Find a spot in my woods and have one good cry and then suck it the hell up, because who wants to waste time crying when I have family and friends to spend time with.
  4. Kiss a woman—and I didn’t mean on the cheek. I meant a “Katy Perry I kissed a girl and I liked it” kind of kiss. I’ve never kissed a woman that way, I thought to myself with a “Huhn, well.”  I thought perhaps I could kill two birds with one pucker and kiss Ellen DeGeneres, if Portia didn’t mind. Haw! Yeah. Well. That’s what I thought.

That’s it. That’s my list. Oh sure, I thought how nice it’d be to travel a bit, have some gelato in Italy, or visit the Grand Canyon or Yellowstone, or have the Perfect Meal, or see the wilds of Alaska, or go to Canada, or Greece, or Spain, or Ireland, Scotland. But those hovered in the background, sort of a “If I had a lot of extra time and if family and friends could be with me while doing those things.”

rainbows and lollipops and la la la tee dah

I tell you what. When you finally sit in that doc’s office and find out how everything has been one big fuck-up and you are not “Sick” but instead A-danged-O.K., the sun shines brighter, the trees sway sweeter, the air enters your lungs and goes into your healthy body all Yippee! And there is such a feeling of gratitude for your health—because, you know there are so many who walk out of that doctor’s office with the news you thought you were going to hear and you fear for them, ache for them, but honestly you are so glad you are not one of them. At least not today. Not tomorrow. Probably not next week. So, yeah. Pass the YEEHAAAWS and the Hot Damns!

As for that list, well . . . huhn. Yeah. We’ll see. *grin*

“Anti-” aging, my ass . . .

Who is driving your “car” . . . ? You should be, with your strong capable hands and able mind . . .

an·ti/ˈanˌtī/  / Opposed to; against. A person opposed to a particular policy, activity, or idea.

Ad on Facebook sidebar: “Woman is 53 But Looks 27!”

So, “Madison Avenue” couldn’t come up with a better word than Anti-Aging? What the hell, y’all! I’m tired of the idea that age is something we have to cure. As if it’s a disease, something so horrible we must fight it within every inch of our wrinkles, fear it. Forget the Zombie Apocalypse, we have Night of the Living Old where everyone runs around screaming in terror.

Folkses, we all are going to age until and unless we die. That’s about it. You can practice every kind of “anti-aging” in your arsenal but you are still going to age your ass off. So how’s about we drive our own aging cars where we want them to go, and that’s to Kicking Ass Land.

Instead of being “Anti” aging, why not think of it in more positive terms? There’s nothing wrong with a desire to look good for our age—the mistake people make is when they want to remain forever in their twenties and thirties or whatever that magic number is where one thought one looked and felt ones best or one thought one was at the top of one’s game and now that one isn’t at that age the panic button is feverishly pounded and WAH WAH WAH SOB WAH. *Yawn* I’m bored.

Instead of the negative “anti,” consider instead the “pro” and how you can Kick Ass and be AWESOME where you are in your life Right Now.

Other than normal “wear and tear and aging” in my body, I’m in the best shape of my life. I still can strut me some skinny jeans if’n I want to. I can run and jump and skip and

our bodies are wonderlands . . .

do high-energy plyometrics on the treadmill for an hour and still have enough energy to hit the mat for another thirty or so, and then waltz out the gym ready to take on the day. I’m writing novels. I’m hiking mountains.

And I have sex (Mom, Brothers, Son—don’t read this part:) and it’s more fun and more intense than at any time in my life—that’s right, y’allses, the KABOOM is KABOOMIER. Who says menopause and aging is the end to good explosive sex?—yup, youngermiesters, some of your moms and dads and even your grandmothers and granddads are still YIPPIE YAI KAI YO KAI YAYING in the bedroom, ha! Yeah—picture that all day, wontcha? Haw! You’re welcome.

And what do I do to feel so great? I don’t sit on my ass and moan about how old I’m becoming. I don’t rely on Magic Pills or Magic Surgery or Magic Injections to alter my outward appearance while my inward appearance flails around in Panic Land that I’m growing older. And please, y’all, believe me I’m not being critical of those who decide to go the surgery/injection route, as long as they are realistic about it. Go google “plastic surgeries gone wrong” and there you go. There has to be some realistic acceptance of some aspects of aging, just say’n.

Tips to Pro-Aging:

Eat healthfully. Stuffing our faces with fast food, processed food, added sugar, and bad-for-our body fats, isn’t the way to go out and kick ass at any time of our life, but as we age, we must take stock of our health even more so. Live that way and your body and brain will be sluggish and shitty, and as you further age, the sluggish shitties will worsen—oh, and you may die sooner, and that would suck, wouldn’t it? Does this mean I never have candy or cake or ice-cream? Hell no! But when I do, I enjoy it more because it’s a treat, and it tastes so much better. I also splurge on The Good Stuff because I don’t eat it often.

Women: I wrote a post before about the benefits of testosterone compound cream. When we go through menopause we can lose testosterone, affecting our moods, our “brain clarity,” energy, and our libido. The compound has changed my life—but I feel like myself, not some super-duper-weird altered version of myself. Consult your doctor, always. It’s the only hormone I take into my body and it works for me without any side effects, but everyone is different.

Get your ass off the couch or out of the chair and move. The stronger you feel, the more powerful you are. Being fit and strong means you are able to care for

A walk costs nothing and is easy on the joints if you have tender areas. Walk, it’s a good start.

yourself. Work on strength, aerobic fitness, balance—all these mean that as we age, barring anything that is not in our control (and there is always something that can happen that we cannot control), we should be able to kick-ass and be strong well into our Very Old Agedom. Shame on you if you sit on your ass eating crappy food, smoking, drinking too much, not going for check-ups, ignoring your health, and then possibly “saddle” your spouse/partner/kids/grandkids with your care. Again, I emphasize how this does not apply to those who had something happen that is not under their control. Sometimes sucky things happen to us no matter how much we take care of ourselves. That’s just life. But when we have a CHOICE, how will we choose for ourselves and for our spouses/partner/children/grandchildren?

You know those pesky annoying negative soul-sucking people in your life? The ones who have been hanging on your back and hollering in your ear for years? Well, kick their ass to the curb. See ya! What? Sound mean? Well, if you are around someone(s) who sucks every ounce of joy or energy out of you, constantly whining and crying on your shoulder, constantly a big Pain in the Ass, then why allow that to continue into your Agedom? What’s in it for you? There must be something in it for you or else you’d finally kick them to the curb, right? Riiiigghht. If this PITA is someone you simply can’t walk away from, then find a way to short circuit the Negative Whiny Woe Is Me talk. Take your power back. Take control of the time you have left on this earth. You are an adult now, yeah, it’s true! And adults have choices. This next phase is time to sort through all the people who’ve come into your life and see who makes you happy and content and who tires the unholy hell out of you and needs a wake-up slap upside their pea-heads—you are in charge now. Believe that.

Do something you love.I know that not everyone has the luxury of quitting their jobs to do what they love full time, but, until that day comes, why not go for the here

I’m an author; I love photography; I love fitness – all things I’m passionate about and pursue with joy

and there moments to find your passion and pursue it. To say, “This is time for Me. Go Away.” Your friends and family will only respect the idea of you finding your passion and pursuing it if you respect it within yourself. If someone says, “You’re too old,” or “You can’t,” then sweetly and gently say, “Go fuck yourself.”

Excuses suck. “I’m too old” is an excuse. “I will look silly doing that because I’m old” is an excuse. “I am tired because I’m old” –excuse. If you have a Real Reason for why you aren’t doing what you love, or why you aren’t out there kicking ass, then don’t beat yourself up about it, for we must also respect the tender parts of ourselves, the parts that have served us well but something just went wrong. But if you know good and damned well you are opening that mouth and vomiting out excuse after excuse, then Stop It, goddammit!

Alternatively, we don’t have to live the commercials on TV. What I see on ads/commercials is that Boomers are out there Taking On The World—jumping out of planes, sitting in bathtubs with their significant other while watching the sunset after they’ve just had WHOOP! sex (though, huhn, read above *laugh*), they are faster than a speeding bullet and leaping over tall buildings at a single bound—Super Boomers! Well, part of being kick-ass is recognizing what you are doing because it’s good for you and you are passionate about it versus what you think you ought to be doing because “everyone else is doing it.” Huhn. Naw, we aren’t all doing it all. Who is, really, no matter their age?

I hate to use the old cliché, but it’s so true. When you are lying there dying your ass off, you may just think, “How’d it go so fast? And why didn’t I . . . .”  So, see what you want to fill in the blanks for that . . . and then start finding ways to enjoy or do or be that . . .

Maw Maw – I’m not my grandmothers kind of grandmother . . .

I go by the: Just cause I can wear it, doesn’t mean I should, and, the I’m not wearing Maw Maw clothes even if I am a Granny. You won’t see me in mini-skirts, or jeggings (lawd, those need to go away), or a bikini, or trying to wear clothes a twenty year old (or worse, teenager) would wear. However, if I can rawk out some skinny jeans and boots or stilettos and a form-fitting top, then I am. You also won’t see me in sweat pants or elastic-waist polyester pants suits, either, or sloppy-ass ill-fitting clothes that I am hiding in because I’ve given up—because I haven’t given up and you shouldn’t either.

Take care of your hair and skin. By eating well, and if you like, with “products.” Though I hate the term “anti-aging” what I am happy about is that finally there are products geared towards people over thirty. Some are better than others, but you can be the judge of what works for you, and how far you want to take the producting of your hair and skin—some people wash their face and are done with it, and nothing wrong with that if you Own It, and simply like things, well, simple. Personally, I enjoy pampering my skin and hair because it makes me feel good about myself and I like the results. Men aren’t pressured as much as women are to be “youthful,” but that’s fast a-changing, oh yes it is, if commercials and ads are any indication.

Finally, surround yourself with as much beauty and love and light and positives as you are able to. And as for the crappier stuff, well, learn how to put all of that into perspective—take back your power, do your best, work with what you have, make choices based on what is best for you and for your loved ones. You can be a loving, giving person without letting people walk over you. The two things—being a giving person and being taken from—are not equal.

Now, let’s  take the term “anti-aging” and stomp over it while on the way to kicking ass and feeling our best. Pro-Aging. Yeah. Goddammit, I like that.

Wednesday F4A: Personal Trainer Kat says: Your Least ain’t good enough . . .

Yesterday while sitting my arse on the porch floor for at least an hour (this after I sat in the rocker still as my jittery self allows for me to be “still” –ungh– for at least that long), looking for that “perfect” camera shot of birds doing something other than eating seeds, I thought, “This is a metaphor/analogy for writing. Patience, practice, doing something you don’t always think is fun and sometimes is tedious—but if you do these things, then it’s worth it. You find that moment of AHA! YES!”

spread your wings and flyyyyyyyyyyyyyy - worth the wait on the porch

Today on the treadmill, I thought further about things that are Worth It. Things that require more work and sweat and sacrifice.

Y’allses, you will hear/read, “You don’t have to exercise much—five minutes a few times a day is a good way to be fit.” Well, maybe if you want the minimum results, the least you can do to obtain the least of all the leastestststs.

But if you want to transform your health and your body, then you must work harder. Yup, sorry but it is true. Doing More than expected—doing more than “the least.” You must sacrifice some time and energy and put yourself full into what you are doing to achieve better results in mind and body. There are things we cannot control in this life, and there are things we can.

This here, folkses, is true about so much of what we do in this life. We can do the Least half-ass way, or we can go full out for nothing and transform our health, bodies, life, work.

You going to fast food joints and eating greasy-ass hamburgers and fries, and you drinking soda/soft-drinks/coke/pop (whatever y’all call it in your region) like they are the elixir from the heavens, cramming down your throat candy and

Lift those wings - that's right - up, down, up down, Give me two more!

cookies and chips and other processed foods, and shunning fruits, veggies, whole grains, and other healthy alternatives—and sitting on your ass instead of moving—make for choices that will leave you tired in mind and body, will make your innards gooey and nasty instead of healthy and beautiful, and when you look into the mirror your results will be doughy and bulgy instead of taut and fit—does this mean you all should be “thin” and “skinny?” Now, did I say/write that? Nopses, I did not. “Fit” does not have to mean “skin and bones,” or “skinny” or whatever word you want to give what some people think of as “normal.” What’s normal is what makes you feel your BEST!  Fit means you are giving your body the movement and food it needs and craves. It means you stop doing the easy, the Least, and you begin making better choices that sometimes may not be always fun or comfortable or what you want to be doing because it’s haaaarrrrd. Right? Riiiiighhht.

Stop whining. I said stop it! *giving you the Personal Trainer Kat evil eye* The old cliché of anything worth doing is worth doing well—aren’t you worth it? Isn’t your body and mind and all the inner workings both mental and physical worth it?

Now, I want to direct you to a couple of places I’ve been visiting here lately. August McLaughlin’s blog where a recent blog post is “Factor or Fiction: 10 Diet Myths Debunked” – Read, y’allses! Couldn’t have written it better myself.

And, “Round to Ravishing” where she writes of things she has given up but doesn’t miss. I love this and I love her tenacity and spirit and dedication to Go For what she wants. “I don’t miss you” is the name of her recent blog post.

There is nothing wrong with being hedonistic sometimes. There’s nothing wrong with eating something rich and gooey. There’s nothing wrong with an occasional treat. But I guarantee you that once you begin a serious, not Least, healthier lifestyle—LIFESTYLE, and that doesn’t mean you go all obsessive and then tire of something rarely anyone could ever sustain—you will not feel the same way about the old ways, the former foods you gobbled down, your former body that dragged around tired and frumpy.

Bye! later, all y'allses!

One body. One life. And so many choices. What choices will you make Right Now?

Namaste . . .

Personal Trainer Kat says: What the hell . . .? Feeding tubes & Living on air & sunshine? gark

I am the all-wise PT Kat . . . ommmmlawd

Y’allses, y’allses, y’allses – *shaking my head* When oh when will some people stop behaving as if anything worth having is not worth working hard for? When will some people stop looking for “quick fixes . . .?” When will we recognize that our bodies need our attention by living our lives positively and healthfully, so that our wonderful bodies can do their jobs — giving us energy and love of life for as long as we all shall live?

When will we stop treating our bodies as if there’s another one we can pull on once we wear out the one we have? When will we stop trying to be what we are not? When when when when oh when will we see our bodies as beautiful biological machines with miraculous inner and outer workings?

While taking a break from writing or doing research, I come across thangs on the internet and sometimes think, “Oh, this is a joke, surely . . . ” and low and beholden, dippity do dah day, it ain’t always a joke. There are strangeling goings on out there, and some of the strangest are things people do to their bodies–especially when it comes to weight.  And thing is, folkses, they didn’t get where they are overnight, so why do they expect a change overnight? I’m sorry, y’all, but sometimes drinking our Discipline Juice is the answer (see post below).

I will be the first to admit here that I often struggle with food issues and sometimes maybe even “what is really right for

Mirror, mirror, on the wall--

me versus what I see in the mirror” weight issues (there, I said it–more on that later!)–we are bombarded by images and messages that we must remain forever “youthful” and we must remain forever “thin” and we must remain forever “perfect in every way;” but the dangerous message underlying all that is “and we must do it at any cost–” no no! We mustn’t. Ungh, ungh! We mustn’t!

Yup, lawdy there are some cray-cray thangs I come across that has me saying, “What the hell?”

Desperate brides try feeding tube diet - Okay, um, if you know your wedding is coming up, why not try healthy eating and exercise? Why not try a dress that actually fits you? You, the person you are and will become after the wedding is over? Which by the way, after the wedding is over and you are starving your silly arse off, guess what’s going to happen? Guess? Oh, come on, just a little guess. I was saddened when Daddy had to have a feeding tube shoved down his nose, because he was dying–because he slipped in and out of a sort of coma and couldn’t eat–and dear ones, he so wanted to eat when he woke up; he was so hungry. When we brought him home for hospice, one of the first things he asked was (and it still breaks my heart), “Can I eat now?” For some wonky bride to shove a feeding tube down her throat to “be thin” makes me feel this kind of anger and disgust. Oh, I have so much more to say on this. Ungh. But I’ll shush up and say: “What the hell?”

Sleeping Beauty Diet – oh come on, really? Seriously? This is a joke, right? lawd! It must be a joke . . . right? So, you will sleep your weight away instead of taking a walk and eating some fruit and veggies? Ungh. “Oh, once I awaken from my sleep, I shall be skinnyfied and my prince charmlet will whisk me away–whisk, whisking–oh dear! Food Alert! I am thinking of whisks–which touch food! Take me to my pillow, fast!” Dang.

I like my fresh air and sunshine with a side of sandwich, thank you very much!

Breatharianism - I have no words. I am speechless. And disturbed. *sadly shaking my head* – This can’t be real . . . but alas, I believe it just may be. Oh. Dear. Gawd. Of course, something deeper is going on here, and maybe later it’ll involve aliens coming down to take them away on their big beautiful ship where they’ll live happily and oh-so-skeletally ever after! *danged ole sigh*

My beautiful friends, listen to Personal Trainer Kat:  a little hard work and discipline will make you Powerful–so why be weak and sickly and slightly cray-cray “just to be thin?” Eat well. Exercise. Find Gratitude. Find Acceptance. Do not compare yourself to some “Ideal” that isn’t ideal for you. I know more of what goes on in people’s minds when it comes to food and weight and all the crapola in between than you may realize. Oh yes. I do. Lawdy be in a bucket, but maybe some need to get off their asses and find their Discipline instead of sticking tubes down they’s throat. What the hell?

Now, you wonderfuls out there–hug yourself and respect yourself, for you are unique and beautiful. There is only one You and that You deserves to be treated well, don’tchoo think? Huhn, lawd, I’m hungry – I’m going to go eat something rightcheer and now.

But what-chall think about all this? And do you struggle with self-image, weight-image, “I must be perfect” image? If not–tell your secrets to Acceptance. If so, let’s figure out how to Accept.

Namaste; now go do the day!

Wednesday F4A: I am your Personal Trainer: A few things to try for a healthier life . . .

If I weren’t a novelist, I probably would still work as a Personal Trainer–I truly did enjoy this work. So, I put down my “metaphorical pen” and pick up my “metaphorical whip” . . . ha! And here we go . . .

All Y’allses want a healthier life, right? Riiigghht! Then why ain’tchoo doing something about it? *Personal Trainer Kat Evil Eye* You, yeah- you! Come here! You, you with the face! –Yeah. I’m talking to you. Uh huh; I know;  I know. I know you have been trying a little o-this and a little o-that. Good. I’m proud of you. Now it’s time to kick it up some more. Time to give yourself a little nudge to do more—or let PT Kat nudge you. You can do more to be healthy. You can do more to feel your best.

If you have already succeeded in doing these things below—Brava! Then you are good to go and I’ll see you next time. If you have not, then . . . whatchoo waiting for? Your body will loooooove you for it, right? Riiiighhht!

Quit Smoking. You don’t need a lecture, do you? of course not. I will only say this: my father smoked many years before he finally quit. But the damage to his lungs would come back to haunt us all—his damaged lungs are what killed him. Daddy was in fairly good shape for a man in his 70s and would have had more years, if not for those atrophied lungs. I truly believe it was his smoking years that began what would be his ending. That’s all I’m saying. Except, don’t have your family grieve over you with “If only . . .” thoughts.

Try an interval training program: The beauty of this is you have “rest periods” between high intensity periods—you can do that, can’t you? Whoopeeee! This is FUN! It is, too. Stop whining! Stop it, I say! Of course you can do this. Hup two tree fo.

I ran/jogged for a year before I tried intervals because I didn’t believe it would really make much of a difference in my exercise routine (my brother finally convinced me to try it—his trainer uses it). Now I understand why people/trainers love it so much. It’s changed my body—I’m stronger, faster, better *bionic woman music here,* my metabolism, my breathing/heart-rate—all changed/changing for good. I also lost weight doing this even though I wasn’t really trying to lose more—in fact, I’ve had to add calories to stop the weight loss (Kat don’t wanna be all skinnied-up like the Lollipop-Head Brigade of Hollyweird).

But as well and important for jittery chaotic oft-discombobulatingly whooopity whoopity whoopity me, it helped with the “boredom factor” I will find if I do not do something to stimulate my need for variety. (Writing is great for my jittery brain because even though I am stilled in body, my brain is creating all these Places and People and Events—boing boing boing boing boing!).

Doing intervals, I alternate between walking at a moderate pace with some pretty high intensity jumping around, skipping, running, sprinting fast as I can, etc. Now, I do this on the treadmill and I don’t recommend to all y’allses out there doing the crazy stuff I do on the treadmill, so find your own way of interval training that works for you. And as always: See Your Doctor before beginning a new exercise program, or if you are beginning exercise for the first time.

There is also HIIT – High Intensity Interval Training. I suppose I do a version of this, though it is said if you are truly doing the real HIIT, you can barely do twenty minutes of this kind of cardio exercise, and I do an hour on the treadmill, then strength training and yoga. I. Feel. Great. I do not feel 55. My stomach is flat; my muscles are strong; my endurance is greater; brain is all zippity do dah, zippity aaaaayyy!

Carbs are not our enemy, y’all (and neither are “good” fats, but more on that another time)! It’s the “kinds of carbs” that matter. Our brains and bodies  need carbs, protein, and fat. Read “Why Carb is not a Cuss Word by August McLaughlin, for it is just what I would have written.

Drink water, and/or eat plenty of fruits/veggies for water-intake. Our bodies need water. Our bodies are made up of 60% – 70%  water. Good “natural” water will replenish our needs in a way that clears our mind, keeps us from feeling sluggish—and sometimes when we think we are hungry, we are often only thirsty.

If you are drinking lots of sugary soft-drinks and juices, can you at least replace one today with a tall glass of water? Or even some fresh fruit and veggies? One Coke/soft-drink/Pop—whatever you call it, or one glass of other sugary juice drink, for one glass of water or fresh fruit/veggie. It’s a start.

“Sugar-Free” and “Fat Free” are not necessarily our friends. I personally do not eat sugar-free foods/drinks nor do I eat fat-free foods or drinks—unless they come naturally that way. Ugh. Do not like them. Nasty. Icky. Plee-yuckity *spit-out noises*

There is much evidence of how sugar-free and fat-free are not healthy alternatives as people may think, and if your goal is to lose weight, well, they aren’t always the best choices for that, either. I mean it! No, really! Really! No, really. No, really. Really. I could keep going here—lawd. Annnnnnywaaaay . . .

Here’s a Dr. Oz  (GMR calls him Dr. Ooze *laughing*) article on sugar/fat-free foods. But there is more information out there—do some research; do your homework.

But folkses, I would rather occasionally treat myself to a nice sugar/fat dessert treat than to stuff myself with the other alternative that isn’t going to satisfy me—we tend to eat more of the fake stuff than the real stuff anyway, so, calorie-wise, we can actually eat more calories, or just as many, of the nasty-arse ickity blee-yucky crap than if we had a wonderful tasty decadent dessert that we’d eat less of because it is so rich and yummy and . . . *oh oh—kat want treat now.*

And finally, my last thoughts for the day:

Love yourself and take care of the beautiful body you were given to care for in this life. It is not about being Skinny (that’s one issue I’d love to take up with Dr. Oz – I love him, but he is always using that “skinny/fat” thing and it kind of drives me crazy), but about TRULY becoming healthier—you know what you are doing when no one is looking, dontchoo? Uh huh, so who are you fooling, truly? Who matters here? Who are you getting back at for not becoming healthier? To whom are you saying “SO THERE! HA!”—think about this.

Care for yourself so someone else doesn’t have to care for you (and yes, I do understand sometimes things unexpected happen even when we take care of ourselves). Be grateful for your body and all its wonders.

Be filled with Gratitude for your life and all those around you—family, friends, colleagues, nature.

Please take care of yourself.

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