Getting Fit Fridays {vol. 5}- You Better Work!

As I said in Volume 4 of Getting Fit Fridays, last week was tough. Sorta sick-y. Struggling. I may or may not have spent ALL of last Saturday crashed on the couch watching The Walking Dead marathon.

I confess that I went to my Sunday afternoon workout with my Biggest (Winners!) Losers girls in such a Grinchy mood. I did not want to go. But I did go. And I worked pretty hard and *SHOCKER* my attitude improved immensely by the end of the time.

Hmm.

It is amazing how exercise affects my mental health. Can I get an AMEN??

I’m such a toddler.

“I don’t WANNA do my exercise. No! No! No! I don’t LIKE it!! Waaaaaahhhh!”

Yeah, it’s embarrassing, but true. And a couple of weeks ago, I was all, “oh, yeah, going for a walk, no prob…blah blah blah.” PSHAW!!

Ugh! I’m so whiney. But when I have done it—something, anything to get moving—I feel great afterwards. My mind feels clear. I am so glad that I have done it. And I wanna give myself a fist bump, but that would be weird, so I don’t.

Mental fist bump! Oh yeah!

The thing is just making myself take that first step out the door and making myself go for a run or go to workout with my girls even though there are about a gazillion other things I think I need to be doing instead. Sometimes it is hard to fight that pull of all the other things in life and use them as excuses to eat poorly or take a day off from doing something active.  My friend, Cris, called me out yesterday—

“That’s just an excuse,” she said, when we were chatting.

WORD, girl! WORD! She pushes me, and I love that. Okay, not right away, but she is right, and I do love it and appreciate it.

I am beginning to see some physical changes. My balance is improving. Three weeks ago, I could not do Tree Pose (a yoga style pose we do in a class I have been to) without nearly falling over. This week, I could do it! I can plank longer and my form is better now. Three weeks ago, I could barely hold my booty up or either it was sticking up too high! I can do a real push up now, y’all!! I feel better physically, aside from the creeping crud of last week, of course—just in general, I am feeling better.

Since I am only weighing and measuring once a month, I feel like it is important to recognize these changes, so I have a frame of reference for how far I’ve come and so that I am not just focusing on that number. You know, that number  which enslaves so many of us women. I have to tell you that my scale is still in the back of my car. I never brought it in after that first weigh in. And I think it should stay there because it would be too tempting to get on it every week and then get all crazy over a number that may or may not be any indication of my success.

I just keep hearing a song in my head…♫♪ You better work! You better work it, girl! Do your thing. On the runway…♪♫  (LCD*, again. What can I say?) I’m not looking to be a supermodel, but I know that I better WORK IT. You follow me, right?

So, I am working it! This thing is WORK, y’all! You can’t “sashay shantay” your way through it. I am a work in progress. And when I don’t want to do it, I am doing it anyway. It is the only way to get to where I want to be.

So, tell me, how are you working it these days?

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*LCD – Better known as Lyric Compulsive Disorder. This is a diagnosis I (made up and) gave myself due to my uncontrollable compulsion to associate song lyrics, and subsequently sing them aloud, with pretty much any situation or statement I hear. LCD sufferers UNITE!

Getting Fit Fridays appears weekly here at Red Van Ramblings to chronicle my fitness journey and more importantly, to increase my accountability. Do you need to get back on the wagon? Do you need some help and encouragement? Join with me, if you’d like. We can do it—together.

30 Days of Thankfulness-Day 4

“Music washes away from the soul the dust of everyday life”.  ~Berthold Auerbach

• I am so thankful for MUSIC!
• I am thankful for radios and singing and dancing in the kitchen with the fam!

God really knew what He was doing when He created music! To me, this is one His best ideas! I have mentioned on multiple occasions here at RVR my love of music and my subsequent LCD (AKA Lyric Compulsive Disorder). I really love music.  I enjoy most varieties, with the exceptions of Metal, mmm, and probably Classical.  Yeah, I used to listen to the “hair glam” rock bands of the 80s a little. I mean, what with all their hair and makeup awesomeness, you’ve gotta admit, it was pretty irresistible. But I was never a fan of the hard stuff.  And Classical is good…um, if you’re an insomniac!

Give me your R&B, Soul, Gospel, Southern Rock, Oldies, 80s—even the cheesy 80s, Country, Christian, Rock N Roll or whatever. It does not matter.  I am a fan of it all to some degree.

Music is like a balm to me; it makes me feel all warm inside!  When I am happy, I listen to music. When I am sad, I listen to music. When I am driving in the car, I gotta have my music.  Walking the dog—music.  In the kitchen—music.  You get the picture.

I associate a lot of things with music. Most anything I see, hear, experience, makes me think of a song.  Go ahead—try me.  I love to sing—too loudly, according to the Hubby. Often, I will sing it out, right where I am, much to the embarrassment of my family.  Sorry, people, it is just something that cannot be helped!!

I am the person you see at the stop light rocking it out to “Can’t Touch This” blasting on the radio. That’s right! And I do love to bust a move when a favorite tune comes on the radio or the pod.  And when I can do both—sing and dance—either right by myself or with my fam, it is even more awesome! If I can milk some child embarrassment out of it, well, all the better, my friends! Bonus! Muahahahaha!

Until tomorrow—Be thankful!

Made to Love

Sometimes I wish I lived on one of those communes. Not the creepy David Koresh kind. No, not one of the cult-y ones where they isolate themselves from the world and hoard up big guns and lots of ammo and have bizarre sex things going on. Or is that a compound? Whichever. Doesn’t matter, really. Just trust that there will be no Kool-Aid at my commune slash compound.

My commune is one of those happy hippy ones where everyone gets along and loves to just hang out and spend time together. The women don’t have to shave their legs and the men don’t have to shave their faces. There is no weird stuff—only people who love God and love each other and take care of each other, who work together and raise their families and then take care of the older, wiser ones when they need it.  (Yeah, I know I joked about the communes in my last post—don’t give me a hard time.)

But, seriously, I think about these things.

I would have all the awesome people I have ever loved live there.  We would live near a grocery store because I am not all about growing stuff.  Sadly, I was born without a green thumb. Can it still be a commune if you don’t grow stuff? But wait, among those people I love is my precious mother-in-law and my grandma who are both quite green thumb-ish, so perhaps we could grow food on our commune after all.

Of course, my parents would live next door.  Along with my grandmas and my brothers and their wives and all my nieces and nephews.  Hubby’s mama would live on the other side.  All along the gravel road, (cause you know communes don’t have paved roads, honey) would be all of Hubby’s sisters and their families. 

Then, there are the people who have touched my life in some way who would have to live there too.  My friend who I’ve known since I was 9 years old and who is still my friend.  My bff from high school—who is still my bff today—and her family. All those awesome kids from camp back in the 80s.  The adults, besides my parents, who have helped mold me: the folks who ministered at those camps, my 4th grade teacher (Mrs. Wells, are you still out there somewhere??), my 6th grade teacher (NOT the evil math teacher, but the other one). College roomies, you’re there too. All those special people I met and loved growing up.

Oh, and all those precious friends we’ve met over the last 22 years as Hubby and I have trekked all over the country would have to be there too—especially my sweet Moncure friend who I talk to every day, and my precious Bible study friend from Winston-Salem, who is my prayer warrior. My Iowa friends and my Texas friends. My North Carolina peeps and my South Carolina peeps. You, yes, you—you know who you are.  Yes, all of you will be there too.

Then I could see my people all. the. time. And we could just hang. I see us sitting around in our loungers swapping stories and really getting to know each other on a whole new level.  Maybe there is a campfire where we could all sit around, join hands and sing Kum Ba Yah, I don’t know. I haven’t quite got it all figured out yet, but I’m working on it.

I think a lot about this, now, as life seems to become increasingly complicated, and time seems to be whizzing by me at the speed of light. I feel washed over by the tidal wave of busy-ness and it just seems like I am missing some really important stuff. Sometimes I just want it all to STOP. To find some way to simplify this life and break it down to what is really important.

All you really have in this life, all that is of any true and lasting value, is the relationships you create with people.

Relationship. That is what God created us for in the first place, you know. He didn’t create us to see how much money we could make or how successful we could be. How stressed out we could be or how in debt we would be or how much stuff we could accumulate.  OH! How the stuff does bog us down!

He created us for relationship. Fellowship. To love. To love Him and to love others.

Here is where my LCD kicks in. I love me some TobyMac. Did I say love? I mean, really love. One of my favorite TM songs is Made to Love.  (I won’t review here for you the lyrics in their entirety—as I’ve been known to do—you’ve got internet access, look it up. Better yet, give it a listen.)

Here is what the chorus says:

I was made to love you
I was made to find you
I was made just for you
Made to adore you
I was made to love
And be loved by you
You were here before me
You were waiting on me
And you said you’d keep me
Never would you leave me I was made to love
and be loved by you

We were made to love. And be loved. It is that simple, y’all.

I just find that I am really hungry for that lately. Hungry for those relationships and to just spend time—that isn’t rushed or limited—with those precious folks. I find myself trying to figure out HOW we can make it happen. How we can simplify and pare down the trappings of this life and get down to the nitty gritty of what is really real and true.

That, my friends, is not so simple.

But, I think about it. And wish for it. And pray for it.

Just so you know, my (imaginary) commune is not a gated community. It is not any kind of exclusive club. All are welcome. In fact, the more, the better, as far as I’m concerned. 

“Dare to love and to be a real friend. The love you give and receive is a reality that will lead you closer and closer to God as well as those whom God has given you to love.” ~Henri J. M. Nouwen