My Father, The Spin Instructor

What I’ve done so far, this morning:

A- 40 sit ups

K- 30 skaters

Q- 20 squats

J- 10 kick backs

Hearts- Push ups

Diamonds- Burpees

Clubs- Mountain Climbers

Aces- Plie Squats

Jokers- 50 high knees

Get a deck of cards, shuffle it up real nicely. Then, take the top card, and whatever it says to do, you do it! If you draw the 5 of hearts, you do 5 push ups. 10 of diamonds? 10 burpees. The bigger cards (J-A) don’t go by suit, they go by what they are. I’ve done this work out at my gym before, and have seen it before online. It’s a really great work out, and one you can accomplish pretty quickly if you do it at a faster pace. At my gym, the stakes are much, much higher when it comes to the amount and the movements. This one I tailored for my husband and I this morning, after coming back from vaca to Arizona.

The trip was a good one, as it usually is when we leave the midwest for a place with a much dryer, warmer climate. The triple digits though, that was a killer! Every day the temperature was at least 105, if not higher.

The other killer: my dad’s spin class. See, Dad isn’t just a spin instructor. He takes the outdoors, and brings it into the classroom. He’s done multiple triple digit races and bike runs, so it’s nothing new to him. For someone like me though (and this was roughly my 5th spin class) it was a really intense work out.

We met my parents out in Tucson, AZ- Dad instructs spin at an LA Fitness out there. On an early Saturday morning class, he had around 20 people. That’s pretty astonishing, considering what I’ve seen at other gyms on Saturday mornings. He told me one of his participants drives a very long way, just to go to his class. Also, a paraplegic participated, a friend of his bringing in a special bike that is recumbant, and peddled through the use of his upper body/arms. I could tell how excited and humbled my dad was, having this man in his class.

My dad takes the traditional class, and tosses it out the window. He was pushing us to our limits, getting the resistance to go up as far as it would go, and even beyond that! In the previous spin classes I’ve attended, I’ve never sweated so much, or felt as though I was getting a good enough work out. I could tell that my dad combined plenty of resistance moves along with cardio ones, as we’d work our way up a mountain (figuratively speaking), or back down, slowly. As an added bonus, he asks the participants in the room what resistance they’d like to put on their bikes, and everyone has to do it. That’s roughly 20 changes, and it wasn’t just the resistance, but the speed, the cadence, etc. He let the rest of us choose our own workout, and plenty of people made sure that everyone got a butt kicker that morning!

I say this class was a killer, but I mean that in a good way, honestly. It was one of the highlights of the trip, and getting to spend time with him was definitely an added bonus! He’s a great instructor, and LA Fitness is lucky to have him!

Dad and I

 

A Twofer: A Little Chicken Soup For the Soul, A Lot of Reflection

I’ve been on vacation this past week, so I had very limited internet access and was unable to do my usual Thursday routine. However, I’m back to the comforts of home (and high speed internet), so today will be a two for one deal. I will tackle both topics as best as I can, catching myself up.

It’s Thursday. You know what that means. Please check out my weekly blog group, comprised of a fantastic group of ladies who will dazzle you with insight on various topics.  After reading my post, check out their blogs as well. Just click on:

Froggie (Tracey): One frog’s distinct voice on the world around her.

Merry Land Girl (Melissa): Tales of a suburban mom who likes to talk about pop culture, books, Judaism, family, friendship and anything else that comes to mind.

Mom Of Many (Susanna): One Mom’s perspective on life, raising kids, knitting and other unrelated topics.

Last Thursday, Melissa’s topic choice: share a “Chicken Soup for the Soul” story that either happened to you personally or you witnessed.

Whenever I image a “Chicken Soup” story, I think of my first boyfriend’s mother. I can’t remember her name, but I will never forget her. I was a wayward teen at the age of 16, when I first met her. She was a beautiful woman, who had this amazing light that shone from her eyes. There have only been a few people in my life where I’ve witnessed that light, and hers was the most profound to me. I remember feeling very nervous and awkward when we shook hands, yet she smiled at me and put me at ease. I was her son’s first real girlfriend, and he was the baby of the family, and you’d assume that would mean chaos. Most moms are seriously wrapped up in their youngest children, and the boys often become “Mama’s boys”, but it wasn’t the case with this mom. She was always nice to me, even buying me Christmas presents and birthday gifts.

I was invited to attend church with the both of them one day, and I reluctantly went. My family hadn’t been big church goers when I was growing up, and so I wasn’t sure what to expect. There was a call for prayers, and she moved from her seat next to mine, walking slowly forward to the front of the church, and others moved out of their seats and also walked to the front. They placed their hands onto her, and started praying feverishly and with conviction, and I was completely confused. I asked my boyfriend what was going on, and his eyes were wet as he told me his mother had recently found out she had breast cancer. The attendees were praying for her, praying for her recovery and her health. I sat in awe while I watched the scene in front of me, moved beyond what any words could describe.

When she went in for her next check up, the doctors had informed her that the cancer was GONE. There was no sign of it. It was one of those situations that I’m sure could be easily explained by modern medicine, but I knew deep in my heart I had witnessed a miracle that day, in the church. I had felt it just as strongly as if I’d been one of the prayer warriors placing my hand onto her. There were more years of good health, and she spent time with me even after her son and I broke up. She would invite me for lunches, or to go on shopping adventures. One time we went driving to meet her son at college, and I remember listening to Sheryl Crow’s “Every Day Is A Winding Road” in the car while we drove with the windows down, enjoying the beautiful day. Some time after that, her cancer had returned, and unfortunately she passed away. I remember feeling incredibly angry with God when her son called me up, telling me the news. How could He grant one miracle and then take it away? It’s taken me a long time to come to terms with the fact that none of us really know why things happen the way they do, but I know the extra time she was given did so much for me, as I’m sure it did for everyone else her life had touched. She truly was remarkable, and I am so glad I got to know her.

This Thursday’s topic choice comes from Susanna: When you stop looking for something you often find it. Is this something that has been true in you life?

In a word, ALWAYS.

I’m one of those people who actively works hard for something, and I need to always have a game plan in place. When the game plan has been removed from me, I feel lost. Yet, when I calm myself and stop trying so hard, and stop looking so desperately to try and control what’s around me, is when the answer reveals itself to me. It’s that old adage that a watched pot never boils, and if you keep trying too hard for something, it won’t reveal itself to you.

This was also the case in my love life. It always seemed when one door closed on a relationship, and I would say, “All right, time to be alone for a while” is when another relationship peeped it’s head in the door. I wouldn’t go looking for it, it would always find me, somehow.

This also applies to inanimate objects. Keys. My cell phone, especially. I get lucky, and someone will call me, so I can hear the phone ringing. When you have little ones running around, they often find good use out of your stuff, thinking they are toys, so this one always seems to apply to me.

I do believe that there are many moments in life where you should just relax, and go with the flow. I don’t always do this, but I do believe in it. Like most everyone, I don’t always practice what I preach.

Work Out Hodge Podge Ramblings

This morning, I did something I haven’t done in a very long time. I rewound the clock a few years, and stepped out of the house as a newbie runner, the way the old Sara used to play it before she discovered what a Garmin watch was, and what fancy running gear was all about. I seriously cannot remember the last time I did that. I nearly hyperventilate if I don’t have some gadget to mess around with before I even attempt to take that first step. I sit around and wait on bated breath for the satellites to allow me to begin, and this time I said SCREW IT. Who cares how far I run, or how fast? I JUST WANT TO RUN. So I did, and it was very nice. I really need to do that more often.

 

Now, I posted a while back regarding my R.I.P.P.E.D. certification experience and I’ll tell you- it was never my first choice when it came to certifications. In fact, I remember when the class was offered at my gym a year or two ago, and I never felt the urge to check it out. I was sort of set in my ways when it came to fitness, and what I felt was the best fit for me. Well, sometimes you are given experiences in order to challenge you, and to change the way you view your world. R.I.P.P.E.D. is a pretty awesome class, and soon, it will be an awesome gig. I’ll be instructing starting mid-July, and I’ll get the chance to show others just how cool it is, and how it has something for everyone. I’m hoping this will be a stepping stone to broaden my horizons, leading to other certifications as well. One thing I’m learning; I don’t want to be set on just one way of doing things. I want to be well-rounded. I will wear my shirt proudly. It’s an awesome workout!

Here in the next few days, I’ll get R.I.P.P.E.D. for Kids certified! Very excited about this one. I’ve been working with my boss as a helper when he instructs this class, and it’s SO MUCH FUN! This past Saturday, my boys were having a blast, standing right next to me and the smiles on their faces said it all! Anyone I know with kids or have nieces, nephews, etc.- I am out there telling them about this class! What’s great is, the gym I’ll be working for- they offer this class FOR FREE, asking for canned food donations in lieu of payment. Parents get to participate with the kids, and it instills healthy habits in the family. Plus, when your kids see you taking your health seriously, they will follow in your footsteps.

It’s The Legacy You Leave Behind

It’s Thursday. You know what that means. Please check out my weekly blog group, comprised of a fantastic group of ladies who will dazzle you with insight on various topics.  After reading my post, check out their blogs as well. Just click on:

Froggie (Tracey): One frog’s distinct voice on the world around her.

Merry Land Girl (Melissa): Tales of a suburban mom who likes to talk about pop culture, books, Judaism, family, friendship and anything else that comes to mind.

Mom Of Many (Susanna): One Mom’s perspective on life, raising kids, knitting and other unrelated topics.

It was my turn this week, and with Memorial Day just a few days behind us, I chose: Memorial Day was originally a day to remember those who served in the military, but has expanded to include anyone whose lives touched ours in some way. It’s a day of remembrance. Who did you remember on Memorial Day?

I think I jumped the gun on this. I completed a post on the 28th: 
http://momarock.wordpress.com/2013/05/28/memorial-day-a-life-captured-in-pictures/

In it, I talk about a few people I remembered on Memorial Day.

However, this doesn’t mean I’m fresh out of thoughts or ideas. In fact, what I am often reminded of when I think about our loved ones who have passed is something Jill’s pastor had said at her funeral. He poignantly stated to all in attendance that we have a legacy, and even when we pass on, this doesn’t mean our legacy dies. It lies within those we leave behind. While he spoke of Jill’s legacy, I realized just how true it is. We will live on, and it’s up to us to decide what sort of tracks we leave, or should I say “imprints” we embed into others.

I’d like to think that when I’m gone, my children will always remember how much I loved them, and that I chose to put my family as a number one priority in my life. I hope that in their own grown-up world, that they will also make that choice when it comes to their families. I want my loved ones to remember how much I enjoyed life, and even if they are sad that I am gone, they can laugh a little when they are reminded of my silliness and humor. Health is very important to me, and I intend to pass that on to everyone who knows me. I think that is an important legacy to bestow onto someone, no matter the circumstances.

My 8 year old brought home a bunch of stuff from school the other day. It was his last day of 2nd grade, and they always clean out their desks and send the excess home. He had a notebook filled with writing paper, and on the last page, he wrote about how much he loved creating stories. Reading that made me feel good, because I feel a kindred spirit with my kid in that regard. When I read the next sentence though, my eyes nearly filled with tears. He said “my mom writes stories too a lot, and she likes to write like I do.” I never even realized that he paid attention to the fact that I wrote, even though I had mentioned it to him before. He and I never talk much about it, but he was sharing that.

What sort of legacy are you creating for yourself, as well as for those around you?

Memorial Day: A Life Captured in Pictures

I didn’t go to Grandpa’s funeral. We had a falling out eight years before he had passed away, and it was something that neither of us could get over. Would you believe it was over something as petty as a car? Yes, it was a car that did our relationship in, and it managed to erase over twenty years of history, but the memories are still there. Grandpa wasn’t my biological grandfather. He stepped in from day 1, and never corrected someone when they said, “Is this your granddaughter?” He accepted his role proudly, and was amazing.

Grandpa, my parents, and me

I will never forget his war stories. He was a hero. He lied about his age in order to join the Navy for WWII, making 27 trips across the Atlantic and Pacific. He served on the U.S.S. Satterlee and the U.S.S. Lee Fox, where he stood ready during the landing of Normandy on D-Day, the invasion of Japan, and when Japan surrendered. He never spoke much about his experiences, but when he drank a little more than usual, the stories would come out. He saw a lot of tragedy, death, and loss. He would often end up in tears, which was always disconcerting; Grandpa was a big, strong man. What I remember most though, is his sense of humor, his passion for cooking, and his big heart when it came to family and animals (other than cats; he HATED cats). There are moments I regret not going to his funeral.

 I went to visit Gabe’s grave site yesterday (for more backstory on Gabe, click HERE). I brought flowers, but had nothing to contain the flowers. I decided to dig a hole, but had nothing to dig with. I wished in that moment to have a stick to assist me in the digging, and with a gust of wind, a fat gnarly stick rolled right to Gabe’s grave, stopping at his head stone. I closed my eyes and said a prayer for him, and dug into the muddy earth, tucking the flower stems deep within. His short life completely changed so many lives. Who would guess that someone so tiny could do that?

My friend, pregnant with Gabe

I also visited Jill’s grave yesterday. It was the hardest journey for me. I had the best of intentions, but once I got to the cemetery, I couldn’t find her. After wandering around aimlessly for a long time (and knowing deep down Jill was laughing at me; I’d usually call her to help me get around and find my way) an old man in a pick up truck stopped and asked me, “Do you need help?” Maybe it was coincidence, but I’d like to think that Jill had a hand in that. I was about to throw in the towel when the man took pity on me, and pointed me in the right direction. I placed flowers on her grave, and her parents’ grave, located right next to Jill.

Jill was funny. She always made me laugh, because she was so candid and so REAL. She hated having her picture taken, but somehow we managed to get some over the years. We weren’t as close in recent years, but the last big talk we had (shortly before her cancer diagnosis), she told me, “Grown-ups have their own lives, do their own things. That doesn’t mean you aren’t friends with someone; it just means you appreciate the time you spend with them when you get to see them.” We pissed each other off sometimes, but I’ll tell you this: She was a real friend, through and through.

What I Hate To Love

It’s Thursday. You know what that means. Please check out my weekly blog group, comprised of a fantastic group of ladies who will dazzle you with insight on various topics.  After reading my post, check out their blogs as well. Just click on:

Froggie (Tracey): One frog’s distinct voice on the world around her.

Merry Land Girl (Melissa): Tales of a suburban mom who likes to talk about pop culture, books, Judaism, family, friendship and anything else that comes to mind.

Mom Of Many (Susanna): One Mom’s perspective on life, raising kids, knitting and other unrelated topics.

For this week, Tracey chose: Choose either things you love to hate or things you hate to love.

The things I hate to love:

• Vegetables

• Trash mags (see my recent blog regarding my attraction to smut mags HERE)

• Gossip (I’m a girl- it’s what girls do)

•  Technology

• Teen Mom and Teen Mom 2 

• Cute shoes, even though they never fit right and make my feet hurt

• Planners. I couldn’t live without mine but I feel so tied to it

• Bad 80′s music

•  Texting. I used to love talking on the phone.  

• Sweets. I’m like an addict.

• Those old Mentos commercials. They were ridiculous, but I thought they were cute.

Ch.Ch.Ch.Changes

 

A friend of mine recently posted this onto Facebook, and I knew I had to share. When we are little, there are preconceived notions of knowing exactly what we want to do in life. As we get older, those ideas become less and less real. Most of us have to find our way through trial and error. Change is inevitable. You can’t grow if you become stagnant. It’s unsettling at times, scary at times, yet there’s something new and extraordinary when you look beyond. You won’t always know what to expect, and that’s OK.

You can always change your mind.