I Heart Galveston

ALL PINK EVERYTHING

2016-02-23T10:10:00.003-05:00

My mom reminded me of a bit of my childhood, the Christmas of 1985, where Santa brought my brother and I bicycles and accompanying goodies.

My bike was sparkly pink, glitter streamers, white woven basket. Duh.

I also received pink outfits, hair accessories, new Keds, pink pom pom socks, and a giant backpack that looked like a stuffed koala bear. So the koala bear looked like it WAS. ON. MY. BACK.
Heavenly.

Some children might spread these gifts out, wearing one item on one day, saving the others for later.
But NOT this child.

I can distinctly remember gearing UP in head to toe pink, strapping that koala on my back, straightening the new pink headband with a bow. On a pink bike mission. Straight to grandma's house, two blocks away.

Life is short, friends.

WEAR ALL THE PINK AND KOALAS.

When the victories come, enjoy them. Soak them in. Appreciate the moments, even if the victory is for two blocks to your grandma's house. Even if there is a chance you might get dirty, that you might rip something, that you might fall.

Ride that victory ride, pink bicycle and all.

"And what more shall I say? I do not have time to tell about Gideon,Barak, Samson and Jephthah, about David and Samuel and the prophets, who through faith conquered kingdoms, administered justice, and gained what was promised; who shut the mouths of lions, quenched the fury of the flames, and escaped the edge of the sword;whose weakness was turned to strength; and who became powerful in battle and routed foreign armies."Hebrews 11:32-34

SALTY

2015-11-24T13:59:00.003-05:00

Salty Culture isn't pretty or wrapped with a bow. It's coarse. It's real. It's something you can hold in your hand and roll it through you fingers and feel it in your bones.

Right?

It's about helping, right here in your own messy back yard.

Check out this awesome movement toward community and service, compliments of Emily and Clint Shuttlesworth, navigators of God's great oceans and Valiant Church - http://www.valiantchurch.com/ and http://www.saltyculture.com/

2015-11-23T15:42:00.002-05:00

Psalm 63 says:

O God, you are my God; I earnestly search for you. My soul thirsts for you; my whole body longs for you in this parched and weary land where there is no water. I have seen you in your sanctuary and gazed upon your power and glory. Your unfailing love is better than life itself; how I praise you! I will praise you as long as I live, lifting up my hands to you in prayer. You satisfy me more than the richest feast. I will praise you with songs of joy.

...............................

Last night we spoke about having a yearning, a longing, an angst for Christ. 

There is nothing that beats that angst, that longing and that understanding that NO MATTER how long we live on this earth, that there is always more. MORE. #more. More! 

More love.

More chances to say "I'm sorry."

More understanding.

More light.

More times to be humble.

More times to pray and cry out to God for HELP, because DANG MAN, we all need it. I need HELP to understand these times.

So let's rejoice in the MORE, in the opportunity, in the never ending path that points straight as an arrow toward HIM. 

More chances to practice "Fishy Tale" which is extremely dramatic, stickers adorned, requires two count holds and is played multiple times a day in our house.

HERO

2014-07-16T14:41:00.000-04:00

We wake.

He eats:
Oatmeal
4 Eggs
2 Slices Toast
2 Turkey Sausage Patties

I eat:
1/4 cup oatmeal
5 egg whites

We stop at Starbucks.

He gets:
Mocha Frapuccino the Size of Montana
Old Fashioned DONUT

I get:
Dumbest order ever that involves lethal levels of caffeine and sugar free everything. Blended.

Astros Game:

I just want to be HIM. One day.

OVER HEAD

2014-06-24T17:33:00.001-04:00

These might have been really awful:

100 meter lunge
50 Push-Ups
50 Double Unders
25 Knees to Elbows
5 Rope Climbs
50 Box Jumps
25 OHS @ 65lbs
25 Pull-Ups
50 Sit-Ups
23:48 RX

These heat ain't no lie, ya'll. It's like an oven inside of a sauna inside of Cristiano Ronaldo's new hair cut. En FUEGO.

CALM DOWN! AND CARRY ON.

2014-06-23T15:57:00.002-04:00

Coach asked if I wanted to prep for an August 30 competition.

And I'm telling ya'll, I feel so good right now...so I said YES.

I want this time to be different. I want to enjoy this process, this experience, this work. So, in typical Type A Liz manner, I made a list. Some promises to myself and to my peeps.

1. (With a Bullet) I will not let my weight or body fat define my self-worth or determine my mood.

The scale is tricky ya'll. It is incredibly useful and incredibly dangerous. I weigh every day - because I like to see how foods affect my body, how it's responding to work load, etc. But pretty soon I have to stop. Because it can play serious mind games with you, can derail your progress and your mood, especially in the bodybuilding game where losing is not always the end game goal. Our goals for this prep is to lose body fat...the scale will land where it lands. Oh, and this? This is REAL:

2. I will not pretend to be perfect on social media; I will share my strengths and weaknesses.

Lemme let you in on something: those girls on Instagram? They took 18 pictures to capture THAT one. And then they filtered it. And used a radial blur. And cropped it.

And so do you. And so do I.

A friend wrote me a text this weekend that reminded me: others are watching my actions and my attitude. I am here, on this journey, to help others. It's not helpful if it's not relate-able. And friends, it's entirely possible I stopped for not one, but TWO Reeses blizzards on my drive to Dallas. Sh*t gets real.

3. I will be honest with my Coach and myself.

Which is why the blizzard incident will not happen again. Ahem. Moving on.

4. I will listen to God, my Coach, the Bull and myself to determine what is right for me. What is right for others may not influence what is right for me.

We all want to know "what does she do?" and "what does he eat?" and "how is it possible to fit donuts into your macros, you skinny son of a biscuit...?!?" and also "I wish I was a male bodybuilder so I could eat reuben sandwiches and pretzels before work outs" and I probably can stop there. What is right for me is determined by my Coach and the Bull. God will guide this journey and He wants me happy and healthy...not covetous.

5. For every negative thought, I will follow it with two positives.

I mean, cause all these other girls are trying to put on muscle, right? And I'm like GOD HELP ME UNCOVER IT. I also might laugh at their attempts to power clean a barbell. God bless Olympic lifting and Crossfit.

I did pull ups on this sorry excuse for a hotel gym piece of equipment and fellow patrons on ellipticals freaked the EFF out. It was impressive, really.

6. I will not compare myself to pros on social media.

There's a fine line between motivation and belittling yourself. And it's name is Instagram and IFBB Pro Amanda Latona.

6. Speaking of Crossfit...Crossfit is prioritized before gym until my Coach tells me otherwise.

Because life is too short to not do what you love. And Coach told me I could do it all. I can do it all, right? Right!

7. I will not take my frustrations out on my family and friends. This is my choice, not theirs.

The Bull is the most patient man on Earth. Seriously ya'll, the man put up with me during peak week and a breakfast, lunch and dinner menu of tilapia and red potatoes. It was a dark place. He also is willing to spray adhesive my suit to my butt. That's LOVE. So, in return, I will show only love. But I refuse to go into Buc-ees and buy him brownies from this point forward. That's just wrong and I will now count the days until brownies. There are 68, Just sayin.

All joking aside...I really want to enjoy this prep. I want to work my ass off, bring a better package than I did before and learn. I continue to learn so much from this process and I love it. I love the ethic, I love the determination. I can safely say now...I am an athlete. And I can't wait to see the doors that open over the next 10 weeks.

DREAM THE IMPOSSIBLE

2014-06-17T12:55:00.000-04:00

Ann Voskamp wrote today:

Lord, some things look pretty impossible from where we stand right now.

So that's what we do: we pray for the impossible things, the improbable, implausible, impractical things.

We don't just pray for the possible --- because ours is the God who whispers: "With Me nothing, Nothing, NOTHING is impossible."

You are the God who makes the ridiculously impossible into the miraculously possible, the unbelievable into the you-better-believe-it, the never into the now. We are the people who pray it tonight: BUT GOD. We pray the impossible prayers -- because as long we are with You, *nothing is impossible.*

Do we dare be bold enough to pray for the impossible? For the bridge to mend? For the weight to be lifted? For the door to open...or close?

When I am asked about fitness or Crossfit or training, I always tell others "you can do this."

Anyone can do this.

When someone paralyzed from the waist down can do rope climbs in a wheelchair? Yeah, you can do this.

The difference is the want. How bad do you want it? Pray the impossible.

The dream is free - the hustle is sold separately folks

THE COMPARISON

2014-06-11T12:45:00.001-04:00

"Pride gets no pleasure out of having something, only out of having more of it than the next man...it is the comparison that makes you proud; the pleasure of being above the rest. Once the element of competition is gone, pride is gone." - C.S. Lewis

Humility really comes from just being grateful for what you have.

And when there's 95 pounds of barbell in your hands and you wonder why you chose to RX it because those other girls? They're using 65 or 55 or whatever and if you had THEIR load, it would be so much easier.

Or would it?

The comparison creates pride.

Compare against others and that measuring stick quickly becomes a weapon.

Compete against yourself and you eliminate pride and welcome humility.

BLIND

2014-06-03T10:52:00.001-04:00

"For by the grace given me I say to every one of you: Do not think of yourself more highly than you ought, but rather think of yourself with sober judgement, in accordance with the faith God has distributed to each of you." - Romans 12:3

Dripping sweat after a monster workout at Crossfit yesterday, a woman approached me and introduced herself. This is very norm; our community thrives on being welcoming and warm. I shook her hand and then she started...

"You look really amazing. What do you eat? Paleo? Something else?" she asked.

It caught me completely off guard. Every time.

Now, don't get all nuts on me. I am very proud of the goals I've reached and the progress I have made and I am learning every day about my body. How to love it and respect it and train it and care for it.

But mentally...the improvements haven't registered completely. I forget.

Ya'll, he fell in love with me as a 29% body fat-having-cinder-block-Crossfitter. The picture on the right is THE DAY we met, December 24, 2013 at the 12 Days of Christmas WOD. What was he THINKING? Thank you Jesus, for this gift of a man. Please restore his vision. Yeah.

And this very situation reminded me of something important - how good it feels to share and help. I truly believe that is the reason The Bull and I were put on this Earth, with a Godly calling to help others and encourage.

So we chatted about nutrition and training and it was warm and fuzzy and I held in a completely inappropriate hug because The Bull was waiting and he dislikes when I make people and situations awkward, I do it so often. But as I got IV buckled in, threw my bag in the car and loaded up, I realized that the clarity comes from these moments.

You can do this for you. And you can do it for others too. There's balance in the process. Hand up, hand out.

I WONDER WHY YOU DON'T...

2014-06-02T13:46:00.000-04:00

There is no finish line.

We are surrounded with input that tells us there is: flat abs in 60 days. 90 days no payments. 30 pounds in 30 days.

This life is a journey, a series of opportunities and steps and they all lead to an eternal heaven and more joy than we could ever imagine.

But we have open doors every single day to experience. Feel. Believe. Grow.

Sunday afternoon, The Bull and I had a great little tabata row session and then did a run - ab mat - kettle bell swing - box jump ladder. As we kept pace, bantering back and forth about missed reps and how he was "just getting loose" on those first box jumps and that he can do 12 to my 4 (which is NOT true), I realized that this is the message I want to share.

The process IS the provision.

You can banter with your significant other while you're running and swinging a kettle bell. You can do pushups while your 6 year old rides you like a horse. You can watch Disney and have conversations about manatees and Octonauts while you're doing 45 minutes of fasted cardio in the morning. You can cook chicken and rice for your whole family and I promise that if you pair it with slices apples and PB or carrots and ranch, you do not have to cook separately for every individual.

Make it work, folks.

This is your team. Your team works together.

And you work this process, every single day, until you look up and boys are asking "is it Flex Friday?" and they turn down the Happy Meal, you plan for Rogue rigs in your garage, they slam baseballs into the outfield and you run races together and you have built a damn. fine. team.

I did Crossfit for an entire year and changed my body. And my attitude. Then I learned about nutrition and body building and my life absolutely LEAPT into the stratosphere. But it took a team. Support. LOVE. Encouragement. Patience. HELP. Because when you want to body slam someone for a Reese's, the wise man rubs your back and makes you a protein shake with additional PB2 and then cautiously hands it to you. And backs away.

Surround yourself with these people. And fly.

FOR THOSE

2014-05-27T16:00:00.002-04:00

There are decisions to be made.

I'll just sum this up: that it is more important to me to live a life of experience with those around me, those that I love.

And it is not just about what's important to me. It is about what God calls me to do as a partner, a mother, a friend and a human.

The Bull and I did the "Murph" yesterday, first time for me. For those not in ~~the cult~~ Crossfit, the "Murph" is a workout done in honor or memory of a man or woman who paid the ultimate sacrifice for our daily freedoms. I have done many, nut never "Murph".

The workout is a one mile run, 100 pull-ups, 200 push-ups, 300 air squats, ending with a mile run.

We watched Lone Survivor the night before, the movie account of this true, epic tale of Navy Lt. Michael Murphy. The movie closed with images of these soldiers with their families and comrades, with babies, treasured hobbies, dancing first wedding dances. Embraced in the daily liberties that I enjoy and sometimes even get frustrated with and argue with.

How dare I lose my patience with the child? How dare I selfishly grumble about dishes? Or cutting massive amounts of broccoli into tiny pieces because OK HE'S RIGHT and it is better when it's smaller and it fits in our tupperware. FINE.

It's also better to measure the turkey in a bowl rather than on the flat tupperware lid. This man is ALWAYS RIGHT. Thanks, God. Humble pie. Served. Gah.

I ran the last mile and my mind raced with thoughts. Gratitude. Disbelief of my blessings. Renewed commitment to more eucharisto, less complaining. More time with these people. These hearts.

Crossfit is more than a workout. It is a community. It is shared experience. It is being here, now. And I need it back, ever so desperately.

ALL YOUR STRENGTH

2014-05-21T13:58:00.000-04:00

"Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one. Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength." - Deuteronomy 6:4-5

Or "Stren-GHF" as we like to say 'round here. Quads of DOOM.

Heart, soul and strength. Doesn't it take all of these? Sometimes we have more of one than we do the other.

I have lifted many heavy things with a soul that was in need.

My heart is almost always happy but my strength can fail.

God knows this - he knows our weaknesses. He knows where we lack and where we abound. And I recently had one of those light bulb moments you should probably have waaaay before 35 years old but whatevs and I realized that where we lack is such a gift.

We turned gymnastics night into quite the fiasco - with Amanda at the helm, we became cheer athletes. Ish.

In competition, in Crossfit, we preach "work the weakness" - you hate to walk in and see THAT thing on the whiteboard, THAT muscle up or THAT double under or THAT Turkish get up.

Ya'll can we talk about how ugly this is? Srs.

In life, we hate to walk in on the issue. To have to confront THAT thing that's bothering you. THAT argument. THAT disagreement. THAT hurt.

In Crossfit, we work the weakness. In the gym, we work the weakness. Sure it's fun to do the things we are good at. But when we flex the weakness, when we expose it and take a look around, the struggle and the triumph comes. We grow and learn and fall and get up and we TRIUMPH.

Man, I just might be getting the hang of this. And handstand walks.

MT. ST. HELENS

2014-05-20T10:40:00.002-04:00

Text messages between me and bikini master, Coach Lion:

Me: Here's the pic of the overall bikini at Contra Costa. I feel very far away from looking remotely like this:

Me: I feel like I look like this:

Me: OK OK, if I looked like Stacie Tovar I would be OK with that. I would tell bikini to kiss my ass. For reals. Carry on and have a great Monday!

Coach Lion: Haha I love (and I mean this) the way you open the valve on how you feel so that you emotionally don't go all Mt. St. Helens.

PATTERNS

2014-05-19T14:55:00.003-04:00

We recently listened to a message about "this world" - what in THIS world are we doing? What is THIS world really? And why does God want us here, as opposed to removing ourselves from the threat of the stains, the dirt, the scars.

Ever wonder about that?

Ya'll, if I could only have Jeremiah 29:11 tattooed on my hand. Or forehead. Wait, then I'd have to look in the mirror to see it and it would be backwards. Retract.

If we just didn't have all this darned temptation around us...the distraction, the food, the mess, the heartache, the choices. If life were just...simpler.

My, oh my, how many times I have prayed for that. A simpler existence. I see your blog over there, lookin' all neat and tidy and you have time to home make all your teacher gifts off Pinterest and you recovered those chairs using hot glue and the love of God and you have timeouts for quiet prayer time three times a day programmed into your iPhone.

Some days are like that and Pinterest scores a few points. Some days. Some days we painted those pots and planted seeds for Mother's Day. Some days we make sandwiches with cookie cutter shapes to match the seasons.

But most? Most are just lived IN.

He is always a happy man but he looks especially happy in this picture and I'm sure it's because he knew he would be 6th place and that his dime of a lady would get 5th. YOU HEAR THAT? Yes, I beat him.

Most days are "how do we seriously go through a jar of peanut butter a week in this house?!" and "where are your shoes?" and if I can make it through three pages of my 1000 Gifts book by Anne Voskamp then we shall declare that success and I will shake my butt around!

This world is not simple. But Christ calls us to not walk in the ways of the world, but rather to walk in HIS ways and love the world.

When you compete, when you make choices to become a healthier person, you expose yourself to the criticism of others. I have struggled with lack of family support. I have had to make choices to leave some relationships at a distance because they do not align with what I believe I am here to accomplish. This is not easy. And it made me, at times, want to hide what I was doing - somehow not be proud of what I was doing. I haven't experienced that in a long time until this weekend...at a family party. I packed my lunch because I knew I would need to and when everyone started making plates, I thought to myself "I'll just wait and eat in the car on the way home so I don't make a spectacle of this."

I could feel it rise in my chest: I work hard for this. For every question about fitness, for every inquiry about my workout routine, every opportunity I have to share what I do and how amazing it is. I work HARD for this. And I will be proud of the steps it takes to get here.

Muffin the size of his head. With delicious sugar topping. "I don't like it," he declares. "Too sweet." Says NO CHILD EVER. Except mine.

So out came my tupperware and chicken and sweet potatoe an d broccoli and into the microwave and I was happy to tell others about what i was eating and why it's so important.

Take a seat at the table, ya'll. You never know who might be listening in the seat across from you.

ENDURANCE, CHARACTER, HOPE

2014-05-14T09:57:00.001-04:00

"Not only that, but we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope..." - Romans 5:3-4

Endurance, character, hope.

You know, I am definitely not perfect. There was that time I had four Quest bars in one sitting (pretty sure they didn't mean "cheat clean" FOUR TIMES IN ONE HOUR, but whatevs). There was that time I cried on the stationary bike because, you know, fasted cardio the last week of prep just plain sucks. I have failed at every lift I've ever done (why snatch properly when I can clearly push press the sh*t out of that?!) and it took me a good 8 months to learn double-unders and only then because I had a dream one night about doing them and then the next day I walked into the box and I could just DO them.

"Do you ever wish we were like a normal couple that meets for lunch and eats pizza or shrimp po boys?" I asked him.

We just aren't. Because I was blessed enough to find a man who is a true partner and loves lifting heavy things and our Lord Jesus Christ.

I have absolutely no idea how I crushed this open workout, carb depleted and two weeks out from a figure competition. He scored me, shirtless of course. And then promptly ate 18 plates of food. While I wanted to die and writhed on the box floor for the next 30 minutes. Love, ya'll.

There's this line between "I have a dream to _________" and the grind. The threshing floor, where you wake up every day and you plan and you work a plan and you just do it - you make the choices. This is where most people fall between the cracks, this space between the dream and the doing.

Want to feel like a bad ass? Tell TSA agents that "I'm an athlete and this is my food" and then watch people wonder if they should ask for your autograph. Yes. I am famous. That's what they're thinking, right? Right? Um...

Between the dream and the doing. In that space, there is commitment and planning and choices. Endurance. Every threshing of the wheat, every seemingly monotonous task turns into character. And that character? That character gives you the hope to thresh out the dream.

FIT TIP FROM IHEARTGALVESTON

2014-05-13T09:45:00.002-04:00

Fit Tip #67859:

When your iPhone dies midway through your cardio sesh and the only thing on the gym TV in front of you is Guy Fieri "Diners, Driveins, and Dives" and they are featuring a pizza place in Minnesota that crafts the most amazing pizzas in a custom built copper pizza oven that maintains a temp of 550-600 degrees, and their pies festure house made fennel Italian sausage and they homemake their own kimchi because she's Korean and her mom handed down the recipe for generations and then they put it on a pizza with sesame oil and scallions and you might wonder how I remember all these useless details about food and then - WAIT FOR IT - HERE'S THE TIP - you realize that you should have RUN out of the gym and away from the food porn.

Do not watch Food Network when prepping.

Srs though. Can't remember what I did on New Years this year but can remember that the name of the pizza place was Lola's and that she sprinkles the Napa cabbage with sea salt to brine it.

The struggle is real, ya'll.

THE PROCESS

2014-05-12T14:12:00.000-04:00

"No one takes issue with the provision," he preached.

"The issue always lies in the process."

And I circled it. And I underlined it. And I wrote "THAT'S. IT."

.............................................................................

Ya'll here's the deal: life is tough. It's ups and downs and there is laughter and heart ache, there are temptations and there are now Reese's filled Chips Ahoy cookies because REALLY I NEEDED THAT ONE, and there are good choices and bad choices and sometimes we look over our shoulder and say "oh, maaaaan, I wish I hadn't just done ___________."

Ya'll, I took a picture. And a man said "what are you doing?" and I said "sending this picture to my coach as a distraction so that I don't Reese's rage on you in this grocery store aisle" and then he walked away quickly...

..........................................................................

It all comes down to this: can you learn to trust the process?

These ideas and thoughts started to come together for me this weekend after Pastor's message and I keep travelling back to this notion of process.

Christ is process.

Life is process.

Does it matter that you grabbed those 10 minutes of quiet time before holy dogs and kids and the morning routine of packing lunches and making this disaster of a bed, ya'll I don't even know how it happens, does it even? Does it even matter?

Seriously though. When I see this, I am reminded of Priscilla Shrier and Gideon on the threshing floor and I give praise and thanks for a bed to sleep in and make, a roof over my head, and strong arms that hold me at night. That being said, I can't even explain this.

....................................................................................................

When those minutes build into ideas and string together like lights on twinkly string and they head straight toward your heart and you make different choices than you might have before?

Yes. Trust the process.

In all - in Christ, in life, in children, in fitness, in everything.

There is a lot of excuse making in this life. No time. Too busy. It's too hard. It's too heavy. That's too many. Too few.

And I just can't stand for it any longer. Begin the process. Make it happen. Lift it. It's heavy? Yes. Now do it 9 more times. It's hard to understand? Read it again. Let His words seep into you and watch when they circle back around like birds to meet you where you need Him most.

"Not that I have attained or already perfected, but I press on that I may lay hold of that for which Christ Jesus has also laid hold of me," - Philippians 3:12

THE PULL

2014-03-06T11:18:00.001-05:00

Don't you love the tug on your heart? In those wee hours when it just cracks open the door and you hear the line "Your voice is the light shining in the doorway of my heart" and, my friends, that is no accident. There are no accidents.

Let's recap.

I sort of lost my mind and started Crossfit about a year ago. And, as it does for many, it became an obsession. I mean, yes, it satisfied the completely competitive and obsessive tendencies of my soul, but it also surfaced something else: a desire to encourage. A desire to be an example. A desire to motivate and cheer others on, a culture that is so prevalent in Crossfit.

I was, and continue to be completely fascinated by this journey. Your body is a miracle - a living, breathing miracle that responds when you move. When you feed it - good and bad. When you rest it. Stretch it. Meld and mold it by fostering habits. By pushing it to do things you didn't think you could make it do.

Then I REALLY lost my mind.

Last October, I was meeting with one of my coaches who plans my meals for me. This coach also trains for physique competition. My goals last Fall were to put on monster amount of muscle and get really, super, duper strong. This involved me eating insane amounts of protein and not running. Yes, NOT running. For a girl who was clocking 40+ miles a week and basically had been running races for years and years. It was all I knew. But I digress.

"Why don't you train for a figure competition?" she asks.

I nearly fell over.

"There's no way my body will ever look like figure bodies" was my EXACT. RETORT.

"If I promise you I can get you there, would you consider it?"

And so I considered it. FOR TWO MONTHS.

Crossfit is functional. It's performance based: you can lift it, you can't lift it. You are faster, you are slower. Do you want to do pull-ups? Then do them every time you walk into the box. Work on your skills. It's a never ending fitness journey that not only makes you an athlete, it makes you fitter for life. To pick up your kids, to mop the floor, to rake leaves without a back injury. It makes you better, faster, stronger.

Figure is different. Because at the end of the day, you can train and prep and do everything right and you still have THIS FRAME, and maybe someone likes it and maybe someone doesn't. Erin Stern, Figure Olympia A Gazillion Times Over? Yeah, they like her frame:

Why, oh WHY would I do something like this? Because I love a challenge? Because I'm 35 freaking years old and probably will never have another opportunity to do this? Because if NOTHING ELSE, my body would be improved for Spring Break 2014, like I'm in high school headed to Cancun again MTV style? Yeah. NO.

And then I realized it, the crown jewel of lessons, the bonk-your-head message that we all overlook: the journey is the reward.

While you strive for the podium, if you can't be present in the journey and enjoy it, learn from it, laugh about it, then you really shouldn't be doing it. Sirloin and green beans for breakfast is sort of hilarious, so is being orange tan, so is sparkle spandex, so is frequent Amazon.com orders for waist cinchers and lucite stripper heels. Welcome to my life.

Preparation, practice, passion. You can do all things through Christ, who strengthens you. I promise. HE promised.

You don't step on a figure stage without weeks and weeks (13 to be exact) of specific training and steps. For me, there is no room for error. There is no cheating or deviation. It is commitment like I have never experienced and it has drawn me closer to Christ. And tupperware:

Ya'll, I joke about it but truly, I do not know how anyone preps for this without Jesus Christ and Lil' Wayne. You're welcome.

.......................................

I have been praying about how to use this. God has blessed me with so many gifts and abilities and the talents to do things like eat really obnoxious amounts of asparagus and the willpower to not drink at Tillman's San Luis Salute Mardi Gras Ball (NOT KIDDING, water. And KC and the Sunshine Band. That helped.) Plus, I love to write and talk and inspire and motivate and encourage and hug people, even when it's somewhat inappropriate. I am a champion of the ill-timed, inappropriate hug.

Two things happened:

One: I received an email about a conference for aspiring writers, bloggers and public speakers. And it got me thinking. What's stopping me? I have been writing this blog for years and ya'll have stood by and witnessed the ridiculousness that is my life and, while I hope you find it funny, I can at least say that it's like the best train wreck you couldn't ever take your eyes off of.

I threatened to pick back up at the start of the year. I miss writing, I miss taking pictures and thinking of how I would work it into my writing, being sparked by a topic or a situation and thrilled to share and write it. So maybe, perhaps, now is the time.

Two: fasted cardio. What in h-e-double-hockey-sticks is fasted cardio? Well, folks, her name is Betty the Bike and she and I are 5 AM morning besties during this figure competition prep. Nothing screams "deep reflection" like 45 minutes of low to moderate state cardio every morning of your life for 12 weeks. When I started, I decided this would be an excellent time to listen to some sermons on podcast, rock it out on an alternating schedule of my Bethel and Drake Pandora stations (seriously, ya'll think I'm kidding when I say I live and die by the cross and Wayne), and spend some time in prayer. And Sportscenter. Balance, folks.

This morning I was thinking about this crossover, this possible bridge between faith and fitness. And it just FLOODED me. The complaints are the same: I don't have time. For faith. For Bible study. For Church. For prayer. I don't have time. To workout. To go to the gym. To go on a walk. Faith - and fitness - are about finding strength in weakness. In learning perseverance. In daily practice and habit, making beautiful things. Out of us.

You make beautiful things out of us. Christ makes beautiful things. Out of US.

The notes and scribbles and pouring forth has been so overwhelming and fun this morning and I just couldn't wait to share it. More thoughts need to go down on paper. But lemme tell you what, I am back and I am a bad B. Just for my hittas!

MY CIRCUS, MY MONKEYS

2014-02-03T15:32:00.001-05:00

Oh, how I've missed you. How numerous the journeys and paths that have unfolded since we have spoken...and I feel ever so guilty for taking such a long break.

It's time to start writing again. To pick up the reins and resume the sharing and laughter and outpouring of emotion that I'm so certain you appreciate (and by "appreciate," I mean that you shake your head and thank your lucky heavenly stars that you've got it together and don't have chickens in your yard or currently own stock in tupperware - more to come on that).

Those of you who know me, know my incessant, stubborn, ridiculous personality. My addiction to all things challenging and quirky, my appreciation for Stevie Wonder Fridays, my undying devotion to gansta rap and my five year old. Not in that order. Ahem. So...enter Crossfit. Makes perfect sense, right? Because I needed another outlet to obsess over.

Life brings the challenges you need. It lays them at your feet and says "so, yeah, what about this?" and then it steps back. And waits. And watches. And it quickly changes its name from "challenge" to "opportunity" and this is what separates. I believe this.

I look at the priorities in my life: Faith, IV, Family, Career, Friends. In that order they fall, the cards of life, trumping each other as they lie. Without each other, they fall. So we add this in and agree that being sound of mind, sound of body, sound of soul, they all fit.

There is nothing, I mean, NOTHING in the world like the strength that comes from these pieces fitting together. Since you saw me last? Strong, my friends. So much stronger.

SLAVE FOR YOU

2013-08-21T21:12:00.000-04:00

Me to IV: can you please let Eli in?
IV: Mom, when are you going to learn that I'm not your SLAVE.
Me: ...blank stare...

I have been WAITING, WAAAAAAIIITING for the opportunity to have the TEAM TALK. Five long years and finally, FINALLY, I can tell him about this circus runs on a full tank of gas and that tank is full of teamwork.

This is our circus. These are OUR monkeys. AMEN.

The Perfect Listener

2013-06-10T10:54:00.003-04:00

Losing My Sight

by Lisel Mueller

I never knew that by August
the birds are practically silent,
only a twitter here and there.
Now I notice. Last spring
their noisiness taught me the difference
between screamers and whistlers and cooers
and O, the coloraturas.
I have already mastered
the subtlest pitches in our cat's
elegant Chinese. As the river
turns muddier before my eyes,
its sighs and little smacks
grow louder. Like a spy,
I pick up things indiscriminately:
the long approach of a truck,
car doors slammed in the dark,
the night life of animals—shrieks and hisses,
sex and plunder in the garage.
Tonight the crickets spread static
across the air, a continuous rope
of sound extended to me,
the perfect listener.

.................................................

The perfect listener.

Don't we all long to be better at listening? Friends, I can't tell you how this message has been on repeat in my heart recently as I have been thinking and praying on listening and obedience. A sermon recently said that when we train our ear to listen to the "little leanings" from God, we are diligently preparing to be able to hear the big answers that we will certainly ask for in the future.

When we listen, when we practice listening for the little things, we sharpen our instruments and skills in so many ways. We rely less on sight, on smell, on other senses...we become adept at interpretation and understanding. I think I often complain about my shortcomings in the other senses, inability to see something or a situation coming, inability to have felt something I should have be aware of.

Perhaps what I really should be doing is listening for instruction.

PIN-TEST

2013-04-04T15:33:00.001-04:00

Pretty sure that when your Pinterest boards show more gardening and chicken coops than weddings, you're winning.

Win:

Winner:

Still winning:

Dang...well, had to get one in there:

MC EMCEE B

2013-03-26T09:38:00.000-04:00

Life has involved a LOT of opportunities to be on a microphone lately and boy, howdy, has that been fun. I LOVE a mic. LOVE. People say "how do you do that?" and I think, well, I love to talk.

Why would I not LOVE my talking projected to way more people than possible without a microphone?

Some mornings you wake up and something reminds you of someone you miss, someone who made you sad and probably doesn't deserve the space in your mind that morning. And, boo, cheering section stares at their feet and shuffles.

My friends, the answer is always, ALWAYS Beyonce.

Beyonce will tell you that he "showed his ass and baby, you saw the real him." She will remind you that he is most certainly NOT "irreplaceable" and she will also wag a finger, give a spin and raise an eyebrow. Because you? YOU are AMAZING. And fierce. And him? He sucks. He is dumb. Remember? He showed his ass! He did NOT "put a ring on it" - and thank God, because you dodged a bullet. Some men are "soldiers". You need those. The others? Not so much.

Beyonce will remind you of these things anywhere you like. In the kitchen in your sweatpants (you look athletic and strong). When applying makeup (you don't really need it, you're "feelin' so crazy right now"). Also, when cooking ravioli for 4 year olds. Which needs no explanation about your awesomeness, right?

I'm not sure Beyonce realizes the scope of her reach on the modern day breakup but, then again, she probably doesn't need to be told. Because she is teaching you to "put your love on top".

TIENDITA

2013-03-21T15:05:00.002-04:00

Whether it's committing to emcee a fashion show, organizing a Zydeco dance contest or going out with someone that I find out is actually married (#wishiwaskidding), I will say this: I DO IT RIGHT.

The accomplishments run the gamut, but one thing is clear: I am the queen of embarrassing myself, usually in public, usually in front of people that I admire, usually when I'm trying to DO THE OPPOSITE OF MAKE AN ASS OF MYSELF.

Recovery, my friends, is the key. Redirection. Trust me, I know.

Someday I'm going to look back and laugh. Someday will probably be tomorrow.

AS IF

2013-03-18T14:56:00.001-04:00

So, because I'm amazing, I almost passed out in Church yesterday and I don't know WHY that is such a remarkable thing for me but...

First, it would be remarkably embarassing.

Second, there is something really remarkable to me about being out of control of something - a situation, a comment, a newspaper article, my own flawed body. The same body that I'm fairly certain was trying to smack me across the head and say "SLOW DOWN" and like, maybe get some sleep and eat something because humans require those things to function.

I sat in the pew, panting and trying to breathe and control the steamroller of weakness that was plowing over me and it totally. DID. NOT. WORK.

Thank you sweet Jesus I made it out of mass and the second I stepped into the air, I felt immediately better. But absolutely shaken.

..........................................

We are inherently weak people. We give in. We give up. We get mad. I do, anyway.

Recently, I made myself completely weak and vulnerable, for someone else.

And guess what? It failed MISERABLY. I mean, completely nosedived.

But rather than give in, give up...I set the phone down, had a good 15 minute sob, deleted the evidence and MOVED. THE EFF. ON. Because you know what? That sure didn't work. But there's one more winding road that didn't lead somewhere. Try, try again.

So IV and I took the afternoon yesterday to nap and paint pictures and dance around the kitchen to "40 Day Dream" courtesy of the sweetest friend in the world who made us a killer kitchen dance mix. And we loved, LOVED, loved being weak.