Keep Smiling and Be Grateful

I drove my car to the auto-parts store, parked in the lot at 6:30, estimating I'd be in and out of there in under 20 minutes for a very simple routine replacement. I'd already paid for the part online and the technicians there allegedly switched car batteries out several times per day, so I was sure I'd drive off in no time. 

I watched as the technicians poked and prodded under my car's hood, pulling out WD-40, popping off bolts and making use of plastic zip-ties.

At 8:30, I stood in the lot, waiting for AAA to come tow my car home. 

Mysteriously, after the new battery was installed, my car refused to turn on. 

I smiled through the whole process, knowing anger and blame would do nothing to help the situation. I was also lucky enough that a great friend came to keep me company (after I realized I was running a tad late for grabbing a bite to eat with him). We cracked jokes and laughed, making light of the situation. 

It's good to have a friend that shares the same everything-is-fixed-by-laughter-and-dancing mentality. 

The AAA agent came within 20 minutes of calling for him. At this point, I was already thankful enough. I called home to explain the situation. My heart started to sink as Dad reminded me of the ensuing costs that were piling up in front of me in order to repair my car. I told him to expect me towed home in a bit. 

But, this night wasn't really an as-expected type of night. 

Enter, the most amazing AAA agent there ever was. 

Not only did he spend an hour diagnosing and making adjustments to my car, he fixed the problem, followed me home in case my car broke down again, pointed out more work my car definitely needed and offered to help fix them himself for an unbeatable price! I trusted his words and sensed absolutely no ulterior motive to his kindness which, unfortunately, is a rarity, these days. 

He double checked to see if the problem was truly fixed (it was) and gave me his information so I could call him for the other repairs. He drove away and I was filled with the purest of gratitude for having been sent such a pure-hearted savior that night. 

As I ate a late dinner, I couldn't shake the overwhelming thankfulness I had for both my friend that kept a smile on my face as I waited for help and for the amazing AAA agent. 

Later, I heard my mother on the phone with Grandma, wishing her a happy Korean Thanksgiving. 

Today, I am absolutely more grateful than usual for the wonderful people that are cross my path and for all the things I have.

Not only is life not that bad... it's actually pretty amazing. 

Disarming Negative Emotions

When I coach clients, I teach them not to fear cravings because they are signals from the body.

Emotions are messages coming either internally from our bodies or externally from our lives. They arise for us to experience, assess and decode them, if we so choose to. Otherwise, they come and go, at times bringing us on a roller coaster of ups and downs. 

Uncomfortable emotions are the scariest to deal with. To fear or try suppress them is to give them power. If we take the time to understand these emotions, we can disarm them of any power they have taken on and actually come out with a valuable bit of insight. 

It's like finding the diamond hidden under the coal- we just need to chip away at the dark exterior. 

For example...

Jealousy, commonly perceived as a negative emotion, is wrought with insecurity, anxiety and fear. Seeing someone happier than yourself, a colleague being promoted to a higher-paying position, a significant other talking highly about someone other than yourself... All these things spur an ugly, uncomfortable feeling of wanting what someone else has. 

But is it a bad thing?

Let's find the diamond underneath. 

Jealousy is an indicator of a deep desire we have for something that will potential make us happy. 

So, you're thinking, "Well, that was kind of obvious. But, I still want something I don't have." 

Here's the beauty in it though- now that you know there is something that you want, you can start taking steps towards having it, yourself. 

Jealous of your coworker's promotion? Ask yourself- what is it that is making you feel this way? Do you feel like you want to move up at work? Do you envy your peer's drive to reach higher levels? Or is it the recognition that comes along with the promotion that you want for yourself?

Regardless of what is really going on underneath the surface, figuring out the answer to the question "what is it that I am really jealous of?" will guide you towards the steps you must take towards being happier and more satisfied with what you have and where you are. 

Then there's the whole issue of being content with exactly what you have. But, that's for another day. 

The message here is that a positive spin can even be placed on perceived negative emotions.

As long as happiness and positivity are always the main focal point, there is always a way to find meaning, purpose and a reason to smile in anything. 

Even when you're green with envy.

Seeing Past the Red

Back and forth, my mom and I volleyed words of anger. Her face turned red as she yelled and it was difficult for me to get one word in, edgewise. 

I avoid confrontation; I'm a lover, not a fighter, every day, any day, in the majority of situations. I prefer talking about a situation in a rational manner and responding instead of reacting. 

But, sometimes, fights happen. 

And they suck. 

Especially when they are with family and others that are close to us. 

But, that's who we usually end up fighting with. 

I'd like to believe that most people choose their battles, opting only to engage when the fight is worthwhile. Usually this takes a certain amount of care and consideration. Otherwise, why bother? 

That's the beautiful thing about most family fights- on most occasions, what lies beneath the yelling, the blaming, the tears... under all that ugly negative energy... is love. 

Whenever I can momentarily pull myself away from a fight and gain some perspective on the situation, I can usually find an empathetic understanding for my opponent's stance. In just about every case of Mom versus me, the reason for her anger stems from some mutation of her want for the best for me. 

Our differing views of what constitutes life satisfaction and happiness often creates conflict. I fight for acceptance of my views and she fights for me to adapt hers. (Ironic, the amount of negative energy coming from the common goal of happiness). The important factor to highlight here, though, is that my well being is important enough to her to be fought for. 

How could I be mad at that? 

In the heat of an argument, it's difficult to even attempt to find a positive angle to the negative situation. We see red, in anger, and it blinds us to the whole picture as our focus can concentrate on nothing else. 

Step back 

...

Create distance

...

Breath

...

Reassess

... 

Find the love- it's hidden under all that negativity... somewhere. 

Feeling Fat?

How are you feeling? 

"I feel angry."

"I feel sad." 

"I feel happy." 

"I feel scared"

... All valid answers to the question at hand.

"I feel fat."

...Not so much. 

FAT IS NOT A FEELING. 

Feelings describe our state of emotion, not our state of appearance, and even if they did, I'd reason to say that bodily mass surely didn't develop overnight to suddenly create exacerbated sense of "fatness." 

It makes just as much sense to say "I feel fat" as it does to say "I feel purple." 

There's something more being said in this "feeling fat" statement- a lowered sense of self-esteem, a heightened self-consciousnesses, a harsher self-judgment... "feeling fat" definitely has an all around negative connotation. 

My main concern when I hear this statement, however, is not the identifying of oneself with this negative feeling, but more so identifying of oneself by a physical attribute (or perception of one). 

We are more than out appearance. 

Who we are is a compilation of our talents and hobbies, our likes and dislikes, the impact we make on others and the world- the way we look is, by definition, a superficial way to identify ourselves. 

Looks are fleeting; so much so that they can be changed through diet and exercise, plastic surgery and makeup. 

Personality and who we are at our core is everlasting. 

No amount of lipstick or designer clothing can beautify a bad attitude. 

Similarly, no amount of extra body weight or bad hair days can keep a bright, positive disposition from shining through. 

The next time we hear ourselves say we feel fat, let's dig deeper and find out what's really going on... What are we missing? What message are we really trying to get across? 

When I hear "I feel fat," accompanied by sad eyes and a wounded whimper, I know what I'm really hearing is more akin to, "I am feeling down on myself and could really use a hug." 

Of course, there are days when "feeling fat" can be accredited to overdoing sugar and salt intake the day before and the body physically retains more water... but, that's what elastic waist pants and flowy tops were made for. 

Predicting Success

My grandmother intuitively knew when my mother was pregnant, both times, with my brother and me, without ever having to be told. She's made "predictions" like this multiple times- enough to be, almost, eerie. 

But, she's no psychic. 

She picks up the most subtle of cues in my mother's voice when she speaks and senses her energy, even from halfway across the world, in Korea. 

But, my mom believes my grandmother to have superhuman, prophetic powers. 

And therefore thinks her word to be the be all end all.

Good or bad. 

Grandma has told my mom to pursue business opportunities in the past because she felt they were sure to be successful. She's told her to have patience with me because she knew I would eventually come to my senses. She's told her to have faith in my father because he would do the right thing in the end. 

And each time she's been right.

Don't get me wrong, my grandmother has a powerful gift of intuition that she's strengthened over the years and it is awe inspiring, nonetheless. But, I can't help but wonder, what's really going on here? 

As much as I enjoy imagining my grandmother like this...

 

I'm thinking more that there's a self-fulfilling prophecy effect happening here. 

My mom trusts her own mother's judgment, putting faith in her words, never questioning their validity. If Grandma says it will be one way, so it will be. 

Most of her "visions" happen to be of positive nature, with my mother's best interest always in mind. Naturally. Every mother wishes the best for her child. 

When my mom gets off the phone with Grandma, she's always filled with not only wonder and amazement, but, most importantly, hope. 

Hearing my grandmother's encouraging words fills my mom with positive energy, illuminating her outlook on the future. Grandma assures my mom that everything will be okay- so it will be. 

Without hope, a positive attitude or trust that things can and will go the way we will them to, the already unpredictable future becomes overshadowed with with anxiety-provoking unease. 

To shine a bright light on our perspectives, seeking out the best possible outcome, and putting faith and energy in to pursuing that beautiful prize greatly increases the probability of success without even having to make the first move. 

Our minds are more powerful than we can ever imagine. 

We all have the ability to damn ourselves from the beginning by believing the worst will happen...

or

We can confidently have faith in ourselves and our individual greatness from the get-go.

Sometimes we need that "It's all going to be okay" push of positive energy from someone we love and trust to bolster our potential. 

But, how wonderful would it be if we could each start from within and be our own greatest source of positive reinforcement? 

Stop Feeling Guilty About Food!

We are our own worst critics. 

We tell ourselves we are bad and hold on to that badness, unwilling to forgive ourselves. 

We feel guilty for not always doing the right things or not treating others as we should. 

OK, I understand feeling bad for wronging someone. 

Or taking a toy from a baby. 

Or tripping a stranger and running away. 

But, for eating a cookie??

Please, we have enough to criticize ourselves for. 

Who's the jerk that vindicated the eating of delicious foods like a big juicy cheeseburger or a hot fudge sundae with all the fixings? I'd like to have a word or two with this person. Clearly, said person gets off on sucking joy out of life. 

Associating "badness" with foods is a wasted, negative-energy filled effort.

There is nothing innately angelic about sitting down to a slice of fruit as opposed to a slice of cake. The only thing that happens when we label certain foods as "good" or "bad" is that we label ourselves as "good" or "bad" for eating them. 

This goes hand in hand with being on a diet (I shudder at the word, itself) that has restrictions that define what is and isn't allowed. The dieter is then subject to many opportunities to cheat if the diet isn't followed, thus feeling the resulting guilt from eating the bad items. 

So much negativity!

I ate a french fry the other day. I do not think myself to be a bad person. 

We are responsible for how we treat our bodies. The hope is that we choose foods that support optimal health while also allowing ourselves to have foods that have little nutritional value, but great enjoyment value. 

We live in a world where these nutritionally-devoid, pure enjoyment-value foods exist. 

Instead of barring ourselves from them and creating feelings of guilt when we succumb to their allure, why not just accept their deliciousness and learn to coexist with them? 

Step one is to remove labels of "goodness" or "badness" from foods.  

Step two is to honor our health by feeding it the wholesome nutrition it needs. 

Step three is to be gentle with ourselves and allow ourselves the wiggle room to enjoy those "other" foods for the pure sake of enjoying them. 

We have enough to combat in this world. Let's leave the negative energy to the wars, crimes and offenses. 

Not food. 

Food is too delicious for all that negativity. 

Happy eating! 

A Reason To Be Happy

He's the happy-go-lucky, white beagle everyone loves that has a nose-in-the-air dance that is joy, personified. He exudes positive energy, no matter what the situation and never gets hung up on a negative thought for more than a single cartoon frame. He gives no explanation for his happiness and needs no reason to always live on the greener side of life's fence. 

He is happiness.

He is Snoopy. 

I find that simple things have great potential for life impact due to their vastly open capacity for interpretation. Enter, Snoopy, the cartoon dog from the Peanuts Gang.  

Funny how a simple black and white cartoon character from the 1950's that speaks no words can be an influential figure to 24 year old me, today. It's hard not to smile when you think of his trademark happy dance complete with piano tune in the background. 

Everyone, today, is busy. Everyone is stressed. Everyone has an endless to-do list and no one has enough time to do it all. 

We have become accustomed to being tired and frazzled. Antidepressants and self-medicating tactics are turned to far more often that they should be. We numb out the pain and demands of life and have no energy left to be happy. 

We don't smile and dance nearly as much as we should.

Perhaps, it may not always be appropriate to break out in a full out dance, but even when life is the crappiest of crap, we have the ability to break a smile across our faces. 

Life only puts things in our path that we are capable of handling. Sometimes these things seem so monumentally impossible to deal with, smiling and laughing about it initially is the only way to take the first stab at it. It takes the edge off. Try it.

But, how could we smile? There are bills to pay, places to be, deadlines to meet... What is there to be happy about? 

Snoopy needs no reason to be happy. Why do we?

"Make it a Great Day"

In high school, the Dean would come on the loudspeaker and make the morning announcements. He would notoriously sign off with, "Make it a great day." 

It was customary to mock and laugh at that closing statement, especially since the tone of his voice was always so stoic and robotic with little to no warmth. It also didn't help that he was a disciplinarian that was somewhat feared among the students. 

Hearing it every morning, five days per week, for four school years, I must have subconsciously absorbed it; it popped in to my head, seemingly out of nowhere the other day even after being out of high school for years now. Today, though, I look back at those five words in a completely different light. 

Make it a great day. 

Not, "Have a great day." or the more informal, "Have a good one." 

MAKE IT a great day. 

It was as if he was empowering us all to choose the fate of our own days, hoping we would opt for the good over the bad. Maybe he was. 

It would be nice if "bad days" didn't exist. It would be wonderful if every day we felt healthy, motivated, energetic, positive. If only everything was always rainbows, glitters and unicorns. 

But, it's not. 

And that's reality. 

The bad days do help us to appreciate the good days much more, in comparison. After all, "the sweet is never as sweet without the sour," to quote "Vanilla Sky."

Here's the beauty of the Dean's sign off message though...

To a certain extent, we all have the power to choose to make our day as great as it can be. 

Yes, there are limitations on what we can control in the level of greatness possible in our days. We can't control the weather, the jerks on the highway that should have their licenses revoked, the clerk with the attitude or the mosquito that chooses to bite you on the nose on the day of your blind date. 

But, what we can control is our perception. 

I've said it before: change your perception, change your experience. 

Look through rose colored glasses and the world seems much more beautiful. Positive energy is a powerful force and one that is far underutilized. If we see our glass half full, the empty portion isn't just a lack of filling- it's a space for opportunity. 

It would be wonderful if everything in life always lined up so perfectly as to never have a bad day to suffer through. Wouldn't it be just peachy if every day, "goodness" just fell on our laps? Don't you envy those that seem to never have an "off" day? Those that are surrounded in and radiate positive energy? Lucky them...

But, does luck really have anything to do with it?

We could all benefit from being the positive force we want to attract in to our lives. We could all do well to laugh more and take the little things less seriously. We could all feel so much better about the lemons we are handed in life if we just learned to breathe, smile, respond instead of react, and make more lemonade... or at least make it a great day. 

To Be a Performing-Artist-Nutritionist-Author-Trainer

"So... what? You're going to be a performing-artist-nutritionist-author-trainer?" 

That was the scoffed response I got as a junior in high school when a friend and I pondered what we'd like to be when we "grew up." I shrunk back in defeat, knowing that no one was looking to hire a "performing-artist-nutritionist-author-trainer."  

My interests were always everywhere (and still are, for that matter). I love art and writing, dancing and performing, cooking and nutrition, fitness and wellness... anything that stimulates my mind/body/spirit and challenges my creativity. I spent more time than I'd like to admit trying to figure out what career path was right for me. 

Finding myself was proving to be a terribly difficult task. 

I envied those that knew exactly what they wanted to do and the clear paths that laid in front of them. My path looked to be more like a tangled mess than anything with a sense of cohesiveness. 

For years, I slowly loosened the knots in the tangles, finding my way little by little, sometimes creating bigger messes along the way. I had a new job every few months and thanks to boredom and lack of passion, nothing seemed to stick. The promise of a big income or a steady paycheck seemed empty if it meant doing something I didn't truly love. 

So, it hit me.

If my perfect career didn't exist, I would create it. 

And that's exactly what I did. 

From that early age, I knew, at my core, what my calling was, but the noise of societal norms and the "shoulds" of life got in the way. Even though I always had a smile on, I knew I felt anything but comfortable behind a desk in an office or waiting tables and serving drinks. I ignored my instincts to follow my passions and instead pursued the things I thought I should be doing, instilled by my parents and the idea of what "grown-up life" was supposed to look like. 

But, as I grew up, the noise diminished, giving way for reason and passion to scream for me to take notice and take action. 

So I began with the things that made me happy and checked them off, one by one.

I love art and writing... started a blog

      dancing and performing... created my own stage with Zumba

            cooking and nutrition... became a nutrition counselor and play with recipes

                  fitness and wellness... got certified as a personal trainer & health coach

Voila~ I am a performing-artist-nutritionist-author-trainer!

It was only when I allowed myself to trust my heart that I began making sense of the tangled mess of a career path. I am still combing through the knots, gradually morphing my business, YOUfit, in to what it will eventually become. 

The progress is slow...

and, at times, discouraging...

but it's progress nonetheless...

and I'm okay with that...

because I know that this path not only keeps a smile on my face, but makes that smile authentic, from the inside, out. 

There Is No Rejection, Only Selection

Change your mindset, change your attitude, choose your experience. 

To be a hopelessly positive person, is to see that there is a silver lining no matter how dark the cloud. 

There must be.

Lost a job? = It wasn't your true calling.
Got dumped? = Bigger passion is waiting for you.
Offer wasn't accepted? = It wasn't meant to be.
Hurt yourself? = Learn from it and improve. 


Among the few emotions that are frightening to me in their pain potential, rejection is a biggie. To be rejected is to have my ego bruised, my intentions turned away and my life invalidated. 

Okay, maybe that last one is a bit of a stretch...

So let's spin this:

 "There is no rejection, only selection." 

Ah. How refreshingly painless!

Amazing how a simple reconfiguration shines light on a dark, frightening thought, revealing its positivity potential. 

In my last post, I mentioned that we are responsible for our lives and that our personal realms of control are larger than we give ourselves credit for. This applies here, as well. 

To feel "rejected" is to fork over power to the "reject-or," leaving us no choice but to become the "reject-ee." Knock it off.

Just as I have a right to choose, so too does the rest of humanity. Being turned down is the opposed's choice to go a different route. In that, I graciously accept the new opportunity that lies waiting for me that I may have missed otherwise. 

There are no mistakes in life. 

Sure, I've shed some tears or ground my teeth in frustration over what I've instinctively labeled as "rejection" in the past, but had those experiences not been, I wouldn't be where I am today. I can look back and find reason for all that has ever happened to me and thankfully appreciate them for happening in the first place. 

I willfully use my power to choose to claw out the positive message hidden in every NO, THANK YOU, each GOOD BYE and all of the NOT SO MUCHes. It's always in there, somewhere and if it isn't...

Lessons from a True Fighter

A middle-aged, physically fit man sat on a laptop at a nearby table outside the Starbucks I frequently use as my office. I smiled to him as he gathered his things to move to a table that offered shade from the beaming sun- “I shouldn’t really be in the sun, anyways.” he said to me. 

It was then I noticed the bruises and scrapes along his cheekbone and framing his eyes. Immediately, he picked up on my concern, pointing to the wounds, explaining that his profession as a Mixed Martial Arts fighter with a rather impressive boxing background. 

I believe that there is something to be learned from every person that crosses my path, so I perked up my ears and searched for the golden nugget.

He explained he had just won a fight and rattled off win-loss statistics from his career as a fighter- already, he had gained my respect and awe. Though I was clearly impressed, it wasn’t the fights in the ring that packed the heftiest punch- not by a long shot; matter-of-factly, Howie “the Champion” went on to recount a battle he had won two years ago with stomach cancer.

He went on to say he was on his way out of the fighting game, asking me to guess how old he was.

“I hate this game,” I replied. 

“44,” he said, slightly defeated. 

I shook my head as he identified himself as “old,” knowing just by his energy that he was far from finished with his life’s work.  

Having already handed him my business card after explaining what I do for a living, he took notice that I practiced holistic health care, going on to say that it was a holistic-medicine-touting doctor (that charged a miniscule fraction of the cost of the NY highly-esteemed oncologist) out in California that he credited his life to.

BAM! Golden nugget.

At that moment I felt endlessly validated for my choice to opt for holistic health care in my hopes to heal all of life’s wounds. 

Costing him parts of his internal organs, he refused to let cancer collect his life. He exuded pure gratitude towards his decision to go the holistic route in his recovery, easing the hesitations of my holistic-healing life-path decision, as well. 

Before me, sat a true fighter, both in the worlds of MMA/boxing and in life. From his win, he wore the bruises and cuts with pride, but it was the light of life he exuded that spoke loudest. 

I’m Back! And Reinvented!

 
I neglected my blogging for a while, but I’m back!

Perhaps it’s the back to school energy, the noticeable changing of seasons, the sudden fire lit under my career or a combination of it all, but I’m itching to write again. 

Just as my running efforts have shifted along with my workout regime, the format of my blog will follow suit. Focus will remain on the endless amounts of things to be grateful for in life and the equally abundant number of lessons readily available for absorption. Being that my profession is in health, wellness and fitness, I will be touching on that as well… likely putting my own helplessly positive spin on things.

Much has changed within these past few weeks, more than I thought I was readily able to handle; but here I sit, handling, thriving. 

Change is a necessary part of growth, life and not-getting-bored-ness. It’s not to be feared, but to be embraced… and who can’t use more embracing in their life? 

Pulling Out the Weeds

As I searched for paperwork in preparation for a meeting later on in the week, I dug through piles of half-filled notebooks, magazine articles clippings, miscellaneous folders and unfiled forms. How had I let this much pile up? Suddenly, the papers were no longer the focus of my foraging… it was time to declutter.

I had convinced myself that the mess in my workspace was organized clutter. Most of the times, I knew where to find things and in what general pile it was lying in. Just like the earlier years of my life, my desk was energetically chaotic and instead of bringing order and peace to the situation, I adapted as best I could. Reality was, I would sigh about losing loose scrap notes and frantically sift through piles for business cards… I finally acceptedI was in denial and decided to take action.

I spent the entirety of Sunday afternoon and evening filling a jumbo trash bag with everything I’ve held on to but didn’t really need. I felt inner resistance before releasing certain items into the garbage, but reminded myself that it was negative clutter taking up free space and energy in my surroundings and in my life. If I didn’t use it or search for it within the past few months, it must not have held that much importance in the first place… away and out of my life it went.

When I finally hit desk surface and put everything in its proper place, I immediately felt the energy shift. I felt calm and far less chaotic as I new just where to reach for a post-it note or exactly where I would find a blank consultation form. I felt like I could breathe easier.

As I dropped the filled trash bag on to the curb, I felt a cathartic release. Uprooting all that desk-clutter had yanked on a stopper, letting emotional-clutter drain away. I could only imagine how I would will feel once I combat the residual chaos in my life. How much freer will I feel? How much more positive energy will I be able to accept in to my heart? How clear I will feel!

It’s a non-question. It has to be done. It’s time to scrap all the old, stale, non-productive clutter in my life to make room for the new, positive, progress-supporting energy to come in. Life is like a garden- it needs tending to, nurturing and necessary weeding to make sure that the beautiful plants have plenty of room to grow and flourish.

We Grow and We Change (Thank Goodness!)

eIn middle school, I was the nonathletic kid in gym class who exaggerated a wheeze in order to be deemed medically unable to complete the one-mile run. At one point I was “diagnosed” with exercise-induced asthma and was prescribed an inhaler to be taken in the nurse’s office (where I spent most of my gym-class hours). Every year students were required to have a mile run timed and only once did I drag my spiteful heels through the entire four laps, clocking in at an impossibly slow 20 minutes, stopping every few minutes to retie my self-untying shoelaces and stretch out a pesky reoccurring cramp. Getting me to run was like pulling teeth. I hated every step of it and rolled my eyes at the weekend afternoon joggers diligently hitting the pavement, confused as to why they weren’t sprawled out on the couch with a bowl of Cocoa Puffs chased by a scoop of ice cream.

Fast forward to today: Just back from a sweaty end-of-workout jog in the near 100F heat, I excitedly tack on another three miles to my ongoing outdoor mileage log, overjoyed that I have amassed over three marathons’ worth of pavement. I keep at least two pairs of sneakers in my car at all times (right now, four) along with clean socks. Instead of drooling over the newest toy, my eyes sparkle as I window shop for a runner’s wristwatch equipped with GPS. Suddenly, I had become the afternoon runner I had once scoffed at as a child; I’ve changed, to say the least.

Thank goodness we aren’t defined by our pasts. Hallelujah for being able to make decisions, create change and reform our likes, our goals and ourselves.Had you told a preteen-me that I would one day be a wellness fanatic and an avid runner, I would have laughed through a mouthful of Oreos and turned back to my cartoons. I was no athlete as a child, but today I am proud to have earned that title.

Years don’t have to pass by in order to make a personal change for the better- that’s the beauty of the power of choice. If there’s something I don’t like about myself I have two options: do nothing or do something about it. I am a constant work in progress towards the best version of myself and I intend to make daily strides towards that end, no excuses made. Since my tweaks have been constant, I don’t have to look as far back as 13 years at the “exercise-induced-asthmatic television loving couch potato” in order to see the positive changes I’ve made, but the drastic comparison it presents sure is entertaining!

Running in 91F Can Cause Temporary Insanity…

Two and a half miles into my four mile run in the 91 degree weather, I pulled back my pace to conserve energy and switched to a light jog, planning to amp it back up once I reached shadier grounds; the sun relentlessly beat down on me with no branches or shadows to blunt its power. At my slower rate, a car passed me by as I momentarily locked eyes with the driver. Instinctively, I created a back-story in my mind and concluded that he had been unimpressed at the slowness of my movement. I found I was mentally defending myself against this make-believe judgment, spewing back that I had run the first two miles at a much faster roll and fully intended to add some sprints at the last stretch. How dare he judge my less than optimal pace? How dare he assume I was a slow runner? The car was miles away by then.

Growing up, I was conditioned by constant feedback, both negative and positive, to gauge how well or poorly I was doing. Grades, piano recitals, play performances, art pieces… all meaningless until after I was told how wonderful or atrocious they were.  I developed a need for validation of my efforts, otherwise, they were pointless. Like any other habit picked up as a child, it was hard to unlearn and un-need validation for my hard work, but it had to be done in order to live a happy life and have healthy, non-codependent relationships.  

Running, lifting, sweating, changing my body and improving my fitness are all personal efforts of mine. I put in a lot of time, energy and all around hard work in to myself in order to practice what I preach and be the best possible version of me. These things are my own- not in competition with anyone (but myself) and not to impress anybody (but myself… sometimes!). If I shave a rep off of a set or knock a mile off of a run I know I can complete, I am only cheating myself out of my own personal goals. I’ve come to know my body. I know my personal bests… how much I was able to lift the last time… how far and fast I ran the time before (and I’ll be damned if this time I don’t match or break those records!). I need no one to tell me how hard I’m working and need no recognition as to if my workout was a success or not. I am my most honest, informed, and accurate critic and I need no one’s validation to confirm or tell me otherwise!

Old habits die hard. Sometimes they creep back when least expected and manifest in the most odd of ways. I ended the mental argument I had been having between the random driver-by and myself, swearing it must have been partially fueled by the sweltering heat. How silly I had been, giving any weight to the opinion of a man that was most likely just checking out to see if I had huge knockers (which I most certainly don’t… sorry to disappoint, sir). After regaining sense (and sanity), I picked my pace back up once out of the unshaded stretch of road and ended my run with a few interval sprints. As I took a lap around the driveway, I felt the endorphins flooding through my body and I relished in the wonders of “runner’s high.” Ahh… yes, that’s right… after the miles have been logged and the time has been checked, that immeasurable feeling right there that only I can experience? That’s what it’s all really about.

Insane Behaviors

There’s a bird that repeatedly flies into a window of my house in an effort to land on a potted plant on the other side of the pane (for the purpose of my point, it will be assumed to be the same bird). Day after day, this little bird will make the same ill-fated attempt, only to pick him/herself back up and try again the next day. I do admit that I admire the determination of this tiny, winged creature, but at the same time, I wonder why the lesson hasn’t been taken that this method not only does not work, but causes pain, time after time.

As I sigh at this definitively insane bird’s feeble tries to repeat the same thing over and over again, each time expecting the result to be different, I realized my own insane behaviors and their apparent silliness if observed from an onlooker’s stance. When will I learn that there is a better way to get to the plant on the other side that doesn’t involve crashing in to the window pane? When will I give up the comforts of my not-getting-me-anywhere-routines, feel the fear of change and take the uncharted course?

As many motivational speakers say, we are our own biggest obstacles. When all excuses are exhausted and there is no one left to blame, take a look in the mirror… that is the person standing in the way. Fears of failure, being uncomfortable and the general unknown hold me back from trying a different method or route that may possibly lead me to the better, more desirable outcome. The most frustrating part of the whole situation is knowing that the way things are now arenotideal and in some casescause pain whether it be emotional or physiological. I am no better than the masochist bird, as my stubbornness keeps me relentlessly flying in to my own proverbial window pane.

I need to make the necessary adjustments in my routines in order to achieve my desired outcomes; I know this to be true. I know the changes that need to be made in my dietary habits, fitness efforts, sleeping habits and time management strategies. What’s funnier is that I know how much easier and enjoyable my life will be if I do make these tweaks, ultimately optimizing me regimes. How silly I feel weighing the pros and cons of the temporary discomfort in making positive changes versus the prolonged discomfort of remaining stagnant in my stale routines.Someone, please knock some sense in to me!

I’d like to think that as an evolved human being, I am intellectually advanced enough to make the choices that steer me from pain and unhappiness. At times like this, I understand that there is a difference between having an ability and using that ability. At the surface, choosing ultimate betterment over extended dissatisfaction seems to be a no-thought decision… perhaps the curse that humans must deal with in having this decision is the ability to think to much about it. The answer, then, is simple (and cliche): JUST DO IT! 

Simple Pleasures

I smiled as I slipped on a new pair of cotton, moisture wicking, cushioned soled socks; they felt like clean, silky clouds, hugging my feet, putting a bouncy freshness to my step. I grasped the moment and held on to it as long as I could, forgetting about the day’s annoyances, the difficult situations I had been in and the stressful decisions I had to make. All negativity dissolved as I was completely in the moment, basking in the simple pleasure of a brand new pair of socks.

Stress, sadness, anger, difficulty… these are part of what it means to be human. After all, the wonderful moments would not seem as great without the comparisons. The hope is that life is lived primarily happily with the occasional negative moment. There are some days, however, in which the bad seems to overshadow the majority of the 24 hours, sucking smiles and crushing laughter. It is these days that the smallest of joys must be captured, hung on to and fully experienced. Even on the hardest of days, life always offers simple pleasures that are easier to find when not searched for- it is then left to choice whether to acknowledge or breeze by them.

I’m not talking about moments of grandeur; I’m not alluding to the joy of a winning lottery ticket. Think small, every day happenings-

Kicking off shoes at the end of a long day or tough work out.

The instant relaxation from fresh bed sheets and the cool side of the pillow.

Catching a refreshing blast of air from an oscillating fan in a stuffy room.

The first sip of ice cold water, quenching a thirst that had been building for hours.

Relief for an overly hydrated bladder from getting to use the bathroom.

Happiness comes in many forms. At just about any given moment, no matter how terrible the situation, there is always a positive spin that can be spun. The brain appreciates when a smile is worn, treating it as an instant upper. There are little things in life that have the potential to be the big things that create happiness, if even just for a moment. Yes, tragedy, tears and aggravation all come along with what it means to be an emotion-feeling human, but with that same ability, happiness, joy and elation are also there for the taking. We should all try to exaggerate the positive moments, no matter how menial they may seem, so much so that the overshadowing gloom of negativity pales away from their brightness!

Learning from Injury

Last summer, I cried when the persistent pain in my shoulder was diagnosed as “long thoracic nerve palsy.” Hearing the clinical terms scared me as I associated “palsy” with “something really, really bad.” The nerve damage greatly reduced my range of motion of my dominant arm and made lifting anything over three pounds impossible. I felt defeated on the weight room floor as even the lightest dumbell was too heavy; just a week ago, I had been able to press 20 pound dumbells over-head with ease. Even with the reassurance of  my physical therapist, I worried that I would never regain the strength that I had worked so hard to build.

After the initial mental/emotional sting of being injured subsided and after doing research on my condition, I was able to see the shades in between the black and white. Since I had always been active, my body would theoretically respond and repair quicker than if I had led a sedentary lifestyle. Looking for the universe’s message in the situation, I realized I had not given my muscles a prolonged break from constant weight lifting in years. So, I resolved to take a one-month weight lifting hiatus, as much as it pained me to do so, sticking only to cardiovascular training. In the mean time, I would experiment with different forms of cardio while I attended physical therapy.

Performing my exercises in therapy, I felt embarrassed that my shoulder blade winged out under the slightest pressure of lifting a three-pound handweight. When I reached for something above my head, my right arm laid limp and useless beside me. Even the weight of my own arm was too much for my shoulder to handle as I had to assist it upwards with the help of my uninjured arm. The frustration was endless, but I kept telling myself to trust in my body’s ability to heal and to be kind to it in its weakened state.

Over months of work, I slowly climbed the weight stack. I learned to recognize the smallest of signs of progression; Reaching for a bowl without having to assist with my good arm or bringing my hands to touch overhead during yoga were celebratory feats. The gratitude I had for the human body’s musculo-skeletal system grew with every menial task I was able to accomplish.

Almost a year later, I still catch myself babying my shoulder, afraid to undo any prograss I had made or, worse, reinjure it. With kindness and trust in my body’s abilities to heal and grow stronger, I am back on the weight room floor, setting personal records and attacking new highs with more intesity than every before. I relish in my abilities to do an unassisted pull up and hold a flexed arm hang for moments at a time. Just months ago, asking my shoulder to support such movements was laughable. I am not at 100% recovery, but I am very close. The progress is still slow, but that is okay.The lessons I’ve learned along this path have been worth the frustration. I’ve learned to be patient with as my muscles would only let me inch forward no matter how badly I wanted to leap. My ability to let go has been tested as I never discovered where the nerve damage came from, and I probably never will. I embrace that my body is the only one I will ever live in and I must treat is with love, compassion and care in order for it to bring me through a (hopefully) long, strong and healthy life!