finally.

A beautiful thing happened in Ohio this weekend: the sun came out. And not only did the sun make her grand spring appearance, she brought a little warmth too. This weekend gave hope to residents everywhere in the midwest that not all hope is lost - spring really is coming, and we won't be stuck in the black hole that is March much longer. It's a good thing too, because I'm pretty sure that as a general population, we were all one more snow flurry forecast away from flipping our shit. Better late than never, sun.

These past few months have been a struggle for me on all fronts. I've been less than motivated about wedding planning, eating healthy and exercising and the weather has only perpetuated my eternal seasonal affective disorder. To say that this beautiful weekend was a sign of God would probably be appropriate. I know that mentally, I'm able to overcome bad weather, a scale that won't budge and the horrible procrastination habit I picked up in high school, but this beautiful weather just completely changes my perspective on everything. The sun makes the glass half full mentality so much easier.

And that's how I feel as I end out this weekend - glass half full. After I wasn't able to make my 10k race Saturday morning, I still managed to get in a 4 mile run in the sun, and spent the afternoon finalizing invitation designs and helping plan my best friend's shower. And, to top off my afternoon of wedding nonsense, I reluctantly tried on the too-small wedding dress I bought to check my weight loss progress. The last time I tried it on was the beginning of February and the back still wouldn't zip up, not to mention the fact that it hugged parts of my stomach I would prefer to hack off with a sharp knife. As of Saturday...

My dress fits. 

It zips. It hugs the right places. It fits. In all of its wedding dress glory, it fits. And yes, this is probably monumental because it's my wedding dress and I'm marrying my best friend in it, but it's also monumental because in about 8 weeks, I have lost inches. I have shed more of a body that was there before, caging me in. I haven't lost much weight in 8 weeks, but it's proof that my strength training is paying off. In a world where cardio rules all, committing to strength training has been a major struggle for me mentally. Saturday confirmed that whatever I'm doing is working. Working. Paying off. Success. Victory. Aha!!

Of course, there's still more work to be done. But as Rob says, I'm in the "bonus round," meaning anything I lose from here on out is just icing on the cake. Ironic metaphor for a former fat kid, right? Ah, sweet delicious glory. 

I celebrated a fabulous Easter with my family today, and my parents affectionately provided us with an adult version of an Easter egg hunt and enough carbohydrates to fuel six marathons. And don't you worry, I enjoyed every last bite. A walk with our dogs in the afternoon sun let me walk off some of the delicious honey baked ham and soak up a few more rays of sun before the work week starts.

As this upcoming week begins, I fully intend on tackling a new 30 Day Shred challenge on top of my already busy workout schedule. I have meals planned out, alarms set and a heart set on fire. I have a new upper body circuit set to guide me through some new strength training plans and I cannot wait to move forward with all that this life can give me. Damn, look at what beautiful weather does to your state of mind. Thankful for sun, family, friends, Rob, my dogs and a year of determination and commitment to not giving up on my health and wellness.

Happy Easter, friends!

Accountable in April.

I've been told quite a bit lately that I am a big success story. It's flattering, and after going to my annual checkup with my doctor this morning and hearing her tell me I've lost 43 pounds since my visit last year, I kind of believe it. But I hate the idea of a "success" story being simply in the before and after photos. The notion that we one day commit to getting healthy and then magically show up 50 pounds lighter is a disservice to the mere idea of a success story. What's harder is hearing everyone compliment my progress but feeling like I still have so much work to do, and so little time to do it in. This past month has been a major struggle for me and the scale shows it.

Battling the winter blues is only amplified when March brings more snow and not the warm sun I'd been hoping for. I threw myself into my workouts and eating plans this winter, and I'm so proud of that, but I am SO sick of the same routine. Sick of drinking shakes, eating salads and green beans and seeing the same room of the rec center for every single workout. My body is bursting at the seams to hit the pavement in the sun, walk my dogs to get froyo (hey, it's better than driving there) and get my hiking shoes dirty on my favorite 3 mile trail with Rob and the dogs. This month has been so discouraging because I haven't been able to do any of that. My doctor summed up my struggles when she said to me, "Well, you're a girl in the midwest, and that's about the end of that story." She, like many of us, know the struggles of trying to find something to do in the winter that doesn't involve spending money, sitting in the house or eating out at a restaurant or bar. Needless to say, I've been doing all three of those in excess this past month.

So in hopes of amping myself up for April and buckling down, I've made a couple goals to keep me accountable. Stay tuned, kids!

Start and finish our modified 30 Day Shred challenge - some friends and I are doing a modified verson so we can still work it in with other fitness plans and I'm looking forward to the extra workouts!

Sign up for at least one race in April. Already got this one covered by signing up for a "Panerathon" 5k race for hunger. With free Panera at the end. Yeah, I know, right?

Wholeheartedly practice the 90/10 rule when it comes to eating clean at home. I'm usually pretty good about it but I need to be more dilligent about eating clean foods and avoiding processed ingredients. Hopefully, as the weather warms up, this will mean lots of grilled veggies and meat!

Stay away from the scale and focus more on measurements. The scale is a huge mental roadblock for me and I know it's not a true reflection of the work I put in sometimes. Our 30 Day Shred challenge requires before, during and after measurements and I'm hoping this will help me focus on how my body changes, not just what the scale says. God, that fucking scale.

Try spaghetti squash. Seriously. It's that simple.

April is shaping up to be a busy but fun month, and any extra ounce of accountability I can get, the better off I'll be. Six months untl wedding time, and 25 pounds to go!!

'tis the season to run races.

If you're living in Ohio, chances are you are wholeheartedly disappointed with all that "spring" has lived up to be. The five inches of snow that sit pleasantly on my front porch are a rude reminder that my  mind, body and spirit could really use a vacation. Considering I've been struggling to get outdoor runs in during the bitter winter this year, I'm especially disappointed not to be able to put my cute new running shirt to outdoor use. Bastards.

Before our most recent blast of snow, I managed to get in my first 5k of the year. What's even more exciting is that I managed to rope Rob into running with me last minute, and it was his first timed 5k race. We both finished the race together, and finished in 37:51 - setting a new PR for this slow girl!

Rob and I at Saturday's 5k!

Met up with friends pre-race!

I think the most exciting thing about this race for me was realizing how much stronger and healthier I feel than I did during any of my races last year, or really, ever. I realize I'm at my lowest weight ever, but I hadn't really run more than a couple miles in months, let alone outdoors. I promised Rob I wouldn't leave him behind (he hates running. HATES), so while I didn't physically push myself to my limits, I was happy to learn I was not exhausted at all during the run. It really made me question my potential as "runner," and I'm already excited to start planning several more races out this spring.

And yes, it has for sure put thoughts of another half marathon back in my head. It's a petrifying thought, running 13 miles. But I am SO surprised by my body's ability to handle the once-most-horrible-experience-of-my-life known as running that I am so hopped up on miles. Miles and miles and miles.

Which brings me to my next thought: do what you love. I am so proud of Rob for opting to run with me last minute, and he is so proud to have completed his first real 5k race. That being said, he hates it. After crossing the finish line and still high off the energy, I turned to him and said "How awesome is that? Don't you want to do it again?" to which he politely replied "HELL no." He just started doing CrossFit and LOVES everything about it - and doesn't understand how I can love running so much. And while I would love to turn him into my permanent running partner, I've learned that that's just fine. I do weights classes with the older women at my rec center, dance like a fool in zumba, and I run. It's rhythmic to me - running to a playlist specifically designed to throw down songs in my hardest miles, at a pace that I can find myself completely in sync to. It's therapeutic. To him, it's absolute torture. 

Do not force yourself to workout doing exercises you hate. You will absolutely not stick with it. Do take risks. Do try new classes. Do push yourself and do periodically test your limits, both physically and mentally. 

Happy Monday, friends. Hope everyone has a great week!


                           

for the future.

On my most recent shopping trip to Forever 21, I found myself so utterly disappointed with the future generations of females parading around in their trendy leggings and oversized t-shirts covered in vintage pictures of tigers that I had to write about it. Within the hour I spent there (hey, the place is huge), I witnessed girls rudely bump into other shoppers, make fun of overweight girls they saw in the store and lose the complete inability to speak properly when spoken to. I saw girls not old enough to vote, but old enough to nearly show their vaginas all over the scuffed pearly white floor. Girls covered head to toe in trends but lacking the right kind of esteem to carry them. Disappointing, girls. Disappointing.

I was no gem in my teen years, I'm sure. I paraded around middle school wearing blue glittery lipgloss. Yes, blue. Yes, glittery. Apparently I thought it was cool to look like I had just performed a sex act on a smurf. I would leave the house sans gloss, and then apply it on the bus knowing full well my mother wouldn't let me leave the house looking like that. I wore every 90s trend in the book - from a fake blue hair extension to everything American Eagle could make. But here's the thing - I could still talk to people.  Underneath my poorly executed attempts at fashion and fitting in was a well-mannered girl who could conduct herself accordingly in public.

Trends come and go girls, but just like a good little black dress, manners are classic and timeless. 

I found myself thinking, oh my God, if this is really the future of America, then put me on the next flight out of here. I realize that parents have a lot more working against them now than our parents did when we were kids. The future generations of teens are part of an automatic satisfaction generation. They're part of the generation that has had cell phones since they were 12. Televisions in their rooms, access to shows like the Jersey Shore, Teen Mom and every other 30 minutes of trashy reality television they can get their hands on. If they've been taught how to filter anything, it's only because they've had parents who have brought them up right, because society sure as hell isn't going to do it for you now. They see everything, have access to anything and to live in a world without that seems, quite frankly, petrifying to them.

Combatting that as a parent is hard. I am speaking from a childless perspective, but I can remember growing up without a television in my room. And once I got that, it didn't have cable. I remember rejoicing in the moment my parents let me have a phone in my bedroom, let alone a cell phone (which I didn't get until at least age 16, and there was nothing "smart" about it). The only thing really influentially awful we had access to on television was the Real World, and well-groomed acts like the Backstreet Boys and Mariah Carey crooned us to sleep at night, not Nicki Minaj talking about "clean pussies." I know I sound ancient, talking about the 90s as if they were a decade that occurred a lifetime ago, and I'm sure generations behind me said the same thing about me when they saw my blue lipgloss.

I have no parenting advice, but I imagine it's twice as hard to raise a child in a world where we no longer need to regularly practice things like patience, and we've eliminated the need to have real life conversations 90% of the time. We text our feelings, email our itineraries and "like" thoughts by clicking buttons. We think in 140 characters or less, and our whole lives have become lifelong episodes of show and tell. There's no mystery, no filter, and no need to put ourselves in uncomfortable situations anymore. Raising a child in this world and expecting them to have the manners, politeness and the ability to think independently and communicate it properly isn't impossible, but it takes a fine balancing act that so many of us aren't quite sure how to handle.

Girls (and boys), your words, thoughts and the way you treat other people will leave a much more lasting impression than your $15.80 top from Forever 21. People will forgive you of your fashion errors if you're a nice person, if you say things like "please" and "thank you" and if you hold the door open for others. Learn when to shut your mouth and shut your legs, and learn when to open a book. Parade around in your trendy booties, but remember that letting your vagina hang out of your skirt is no different than wearing a sign that says "I'm a whore, just like the rest of them." Class will always trump trend in the long run, and manners will always outdo cool.

adulthood failures.

All it takes is one night out at the bar for me to recognize just how old I feel sometimes. Preparing for a night out past 11 p.m. now requires a 5-hour energy, the justification of a good workout beforehand and properly fueling myself like I'm about to run a marathon. Three glasses of wine in, I'm usually way more lit than I'd ever proudly admit, and three margaritas later, I'm left with a two day hangover and the ever increasing desire for Chipotle (ok, so maybe some things don't change).

It usually leaves me with the notion that maybe I'm more cut out for adult life than I thought I was. Maybe I've moved past the crazy late nights and ugly mornings, the desire to wash away a bad Friday in tequila or the need to sit on a patio and drink every time the Ohio weather hits 65 degrees (ok, so maybe I still like that one... I told you, some things don't change). But then something happens that makes me realize I'm so unfit for adulthood that it's really quite alarming. With the upcoming arrival of beautiful spring weather (hopefully...come ON Ohio), people are making their spring cleaning lists. My fellow homeowners are preparing for spring and summer yard maintenance, washing windows and cleaning out the garage. Then there's me. In the spirit of remembering that I'm not quite as old as I feel sometimes, here are some of my biggest adulthood failures. No shame. Ok, maybe a little shame.

I've never washed my walls before. Or my windows.

Some of the outlets in my house do not work and I have made zero attempt at rectifying that situation.

I have not vacuumed the area behind my beyond-hairy dog's bed in months.

When I vacuum my living room, I never move the coffee table to vacuum underneath it. Sometimes, if Rob has left his socks on the living room floor, I simply vacuum around them. I consider this my passive aggressive way of saying "pick up your fucking socks."

I have a laundry list of outdoor living possibilities I'd like to do in my front and back yard, but we're going on year three without me attempting any of them.

My patio chairs were knocked over by the wind nearly a month ago and I haven't picked them up yet.

I still have pool supplies stored in cabinets that could be much better utilized for other storage options. I haven't had a pool for two years.

I cannot clean a floor or a shower. All I ever seem to do is move the dog hair/dust/dirt/lint around to different places.

I've never done a thorough cleaning of my baseboards.

Despite having a new car, the inside still looks like I'm a college student. It could easily be cleaned out, and there's no permanent damage by any means, but throwing away all those Kroger receipts is proving really difficult.

I loathe folding laundry, and as a result, most of our clean laundry stays piled on top of the washer and dryer. As self-dubbed laundry doer in my house, I can usually get away with not doing laundry for weeks at a time (the benefits of a shopping addiction), and Rob often thinks we're living in turmoil.

There are canned goods still in my pantry from when I first moved into my home and brought stuff over from my apartment. In 2010.

Brody, our youngest pup, has affectionately chewed on the corner of our coffee table, leaving a huge wooden chunk showing through the black finish. I've contemplated using a sharpie to color it in, but instead let it just sit there.

Anytime I wish I could still be young and carefree like I was four years ago, I simply remind myself that more often than not, I am pretty much a homeowning failure. Working 40 hours a week, working out almost every day, cooking all my meals essentially from scratch and still trying to maintain a clean house, exercise my dogs, plan a wedding and still have a real life means that something along the way has to give. And let's face it, who the hell likes washing windows? Sorry not sorry.