Tag: treadmill

21 Day Challenge – Day 16 – Keeping Secrets

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woman telling secrets, pop art retro style illustration

There’s a secret that even if you shared it no one would believe you. And even if they believed you, it wouldn’t be enough to make them do it.

The secret? Exercise improves mental health. A lot.

At least for me. But I’m pretty sure this is a seriously documented truth.

I suppose the type and level of activity have a lot to do with the overall impact. I know for myself I have a nice soft energy and calmness after doing yoga. A similar feeling after a nice walk outside. But when I vigorously work out, like with my new love, Rowan (the rowing machine) I feel truly alive. Clear. Present.

Yesterday I took a wrong turn and tripped down the internet rabbit hole first thing in the morning. It cost me an opportunity to work out. But I justified it, so it was okay. I went to work, taught a class then came home to await the dishwasher repairman.

I found myself in an energetic wasteland. Instead of catching up on work and getting out in front of things – which is a huge complaint and constant wish – I decided to read instead. I munched on whatever I could find, not hungry for food, but hungry for something. So I ate everything.

After the dishwasher guy came and went, I took a nap.

By dinner time I was exhausted and apathetic.

Today, by stark contrast, I jumped on my computer first thing but just to check two things, then I was off. I took the dogs to get groomed then went to the gym.

The 5 minute warm up on the treadmill felt good. With weights I worked legs and shoulders today. I struggled through some of it, but kept going. I missed just one machine because there was someone on it and someone waiting. I made my way to my new friend, Rowan. I thought I might try to push myself a little farther today. The first two days of rowing I did 2,000 meters at a fairly decent clip. Today I did 3,000 at the same pace.

When I stood up I didn’t think my legs would support me. They were weak. I was spent. I walked a little bit, hopped back on the treadmill with a nice steep incline to try to remind my legs of their role in my life then chatted with my buddy the Thai Chi ex-pro football player. When I left my strength was restored and I felt amazing. I worked all day, produced some good stuff, and at 9 PM still feel vibrant and clear.

Hmmm. Secret’s out.

21 Day Challenge – Day 10 – Speaking of Grandma

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Old Round Eyeglasses.

There is a little old man that comes to the gym. He’s probably about 128. He shuffles in with his “training book” in hand, heading to the first machine that has a seat. He’s wearing polished black dress shoes and black socks that are reaching for his knees. His short sleeve button down shirt is pressed and reveals a white undershirt beneath it. His shorts match his shirt in color.

His still bright eyes probe the room for his trainer beneath Harry Potter style glasses. He rests. All the hair on his head, and there is a surprising amount for his advanced age, is combed forward as if the wind is always at his back.

He gives up on his trainer, places his book on the ground beside the machine. I’m concerned about the picking it back up part. He sets his weights, tucks his polished shoes beneath the padded roller and begins to extend his legs. He’s a pro.

As I wipe the sweat from my eyes I notice a diminutive woman about 80 something on the elliptical machine beside me. Maybe she’s his daughter. Her head is jutted forward a little in line with her hunched shoulders.  She tightly grasps the set of handles that don’t move. She plods away. I believe she was in place before I chose to sweat beside her.

I leave her there after 10 minutes to attend to personal matters that have everything to do with consuming two cups of coffee before I got here and 2 bottles of water since.

When I come back out I hop on the treadmill. 5 minutes later she is beside me again. She sets herself up with her towel and something that may be an mp3 player. She starts to walk.

An older man walks in the door, sees her and waves with a giant smile. She returns both.

Am I in Cocoon?

It is late morning and people with jobs have come and gone or will be here later. This time is held for those of a certain age that have no use for retirement homes. They are active, a little slow, but determined. This is not the first time I have seen these two here. And there are many others.

Right now, at this time of day a solid 70% of the gym is geriatric. 25% is filled with people closer to my age that take this working out thing very seriously. Big guns, tight abs, glorious glutes. They probably got here when it opened and just don’t see any reason to leave.

The other 5% of which I am part is comprised of women like me who likely work at something but have the flexibility to slip away and get in a class or a swim.

It’s growing on me, this gym life. Once I got out of my own way and actually asked for help, a whole world of possibility opened up for me.

There’s a life lesson in there somewhere.

21 Day Challenge – Day 5 – Gym Zombie

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Zombies IMG_6407

Today I had no appointments or classes around which to build my schedule. Sounds divine in that laissez-faire kinda way. But for me, I need an anchor, I need structure and I am not so great at setting it for myself.

I have had an incredible amount of work lately – all good – but overwhelming at times, so today was to be a get-it-done kind of day.

I slept in – which is to say 7 AM. I drank my two (ish – don’t judge) cups of coffee, had some toast and sat down to craft my plan. But first, let’s see what’s happening on Facebook. Wonder what some of my favorite bloggers are ranting about today. The dog wants out. The cat catches then releases a sparkly fish on an elastic line. Facebook pings. Let’s check email. Then the other email. Has that new Indian restaurant opened yet? Oh look, how cute is her new puppy? Is that a text? Where’s my phone?

And so it goes.

I did manage after about 30 minutes wrapped up in STS (Shiny Thing Syndrome) to focus. I think the coffee helped. Seriously. It’s medicinal.

I plunged into my work – my computer work I like to think of it. Responding to emails, texts and messages. Creating flyers for upcoming events. Writing copy for my own blogs, imaginary books and for real people who pay me. Organizing teacher trainings. Creating email blasts and Facebook posts. Editing photos. Stuff like that.

It draws me in sometimes and I can’t extract myself. Just one more tweak here, one more edit there. On my magical list in the sky today was the gym. Maybe a class. I received a more comprehensive list from my trainer, but I still don’t know what machines are what or how to use them. It’s frustrating. Still I thought maybe a class. Zumba?

I remembered it being in the afternoon, around 4, but I checked the schedule just to be sure. There was a class at 9:45. Missed that one. Around 3:30 I suited up, grabbed my iPod, and then headed out the door. On the way I double-checked the schedule. It was at 4:30 YESTERDAY. I went anyway. It’s the new me.

Since I didn’t have my new list – conveniently – I snubbed the machines. I wanted to go straight to the treadmill, we’re friends, but chose the elliptical instead. I decided on 10/10/10. Elliptical, treadmill, bike. Sounded reasonable.

About 1:30 in on the elliptical I started scrambling for excuses to abandon ship. Maybe this wasn’t good for my knees. My heart rate might be too high. Then I decided to become curious. Let’s just pay attention to how this feels, what’s going on in my body, I suggested to the ‘Flight’ part of my brain.

Four minutes in I hit my stride. I took a visual walk around my sweaty play pen. So many people looking unhappy. Working really hard and never getting there. That’s what I saw on their faces, anyway. They were doing it for someone else, to get something, not for their own energy. They were still reaping all the benefit, healthier heart, leaner muscle mass, but was that enough for them? It didn’t seem like it.

As I make my way around the vast room of clanking weights and grunting people I finally land on the stair climbers. We haven’t officially met yet. I  tend to walk a wide berth around them as if trolls can reach out and pull me onto the bottom step forcing me to walk up.

Atop the one closest to me is a man in his 30’s probably. He is leaning on the arm grip, barely able to sustain. He looks over at me, mouth open, eyes dead. He has achieved gym zombie status and apparently my brains are the only thing that can save him right now. We lock eyes as he continues to climb to nowhere. Creeped out I return my attention to reruns of Sex in the City set to the beat of the Gipsy Kings.

10 minutes done. Could have done more. 10 minutes on the treadmill. Then a relatively boring 10 minutes on the bike.

It’s raining. Hard. I can walk through the rain to my car, or stay here and do something else.

It felt good to get wet.

 

 

21 Day Challenge – Day 3 – Reality

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Image of female foot running on treadmill

The insides of my elbows hurt. How is that even possible? What’s even in there?

Today I went back to the gym. It was 6-ish in the morning and many sweaty bodies were already punishing themselves.

I dutifully hopped on the treadmill to do my 5 minute warm-up. As I wandered the belted highway I glanced out at the sea of machines. My trainer had texted me a collection of letters and numbers that I was to decipher into some sort of exercise routine.

Once my heart rate was up and my mind a little clearer I walked with confidence toward the bent and twisted steel with random pads and moving parts. Some looked familiar from a past life of gym false starts. Some looked fun. Some looked torturous. Many were mysterious.

Today is legs and shoulders. I pick the leg extension machine. It’s on my list. I adjust the seat and experiment with weights – my trainer is evidently trusting me to determine this minor detail as those numbers were not included in the hieroglyphics. I do 4 sets of 12. Feeling accomplished I saunter down the row looking for anything familiar. I spot the seated leg curl machine.

I sit down. I stand up. I adjust the seat. I play with the weights. I slide my legs over the seat, under the knee pad and reach for the padded roller that my Achilles tendon is to rest on, with the heel of my right foot. The knee pad is blocking my progress. I twist a little in the seat to see if I can angle one foot up to crank the pad down. I am kicking at it like I’m trying to dislodge it from under my couch.

The twist and lean is not working. I notice the gentlemen to my left has pulled something to lower the roller then effortlessly swung his ankles over the pad. I yank on levers that are not levers but solid bars meant for me to grip when I grunt with barred teeth as I push the roller down. Which may never happen. I look over at the weights. I grab the rubber thingy that acts a pulley to see if I can lift it enough to drop the roller.

My hand comes away with black grease all over it that I will likely wipe on my face before I exit this contraption. And the weights do not budge.

I am not meant to use this machine.

I walk around like I’m taking a break between sets. Just breathing. You know.

I spy a similar leg curl machine on which one lies belly down. I like the looks of it. I lower myself on the giant pad, kick my feet under the two rollers and reach for the hand grips. As I curl my fingers around the handles I slide forward losing contact with the foot pads, defeating the purpose. Clearly this machine is set up for [insert giant man-beast here]. I get up, adjust anything that will move and flop back down. Contact. I pull my heels toward my glutes for 2 sets. Done.

On to shoulder presses. I find the machine quickly, pick a weight and pump like a pro.

There are at least four more puzzles to be solved, but I have squandered my allotted half hour and walk back toward my comfort zone – the treadmill.

As I adjust the speed and incline randomly to the encouragement of Lady Gaga and the Black Eyed Peas, I glance up at the televisions accidentally catching the image of the ISIS/ISIL executioner with his weapon of death held aloft while looking down at the young reporter he will kill. My body begins to shake. I am punched in the heart. I cannot look away quickly enough.

On the adjacent screen is some vapid reality show on the fascinating, tumultuous lives of women wrestlers.

I am struck by the reality dichotomy in which we live. For a moment I am dismayed to the point of abandoning this ridiculousness. Why bother? What is the point?

Then I remember, I must first lift the veil and scrub my energy clean so that I can reveal my own inner light. So I can be part of the solution. Defeat is not an option. I must do this.

With a renewed resolve I turn up the volume on my trusty iPod and plug into my body. I become present with every movement, every sensation. I feel my heart rate rise and fall as I adjust the incline. I slow my breathing down as I speed up my pace, experimenting with my own capacity.

I am a soldier for peace. I am a warrior of light. That is the cause for which I am working.

 

21 Day Challenge – Day 1 – Just Weight

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Dumbbells with towel isolated on white

A little over 8 years ago I embarked on this holistic health odyssey. I wanted to make food my friend, understand it and use it properly. I became a Certified Holistic Health Coach. I gave advice to others as I continued to play with strategies for myself. Everything I did worked. My energy was high, my weight was low (enough) and I felt great!

Then somehow all those things I’d let go of crept back in; foods, habits, stop me if you’ve heard this one.

As I continued to see clients as a health coach and then as a yoga instructor I felt like a complete charlatan. I was a fraud. Am. Oh, I still give great advice. It’s intuitive, tailored to the person in front of me seeking my knowlege and always done with love. I can see exactly what they need to do or not do, add or subtract.

Why can’t I do that for myself? Why do I not take my own gilded advice? Why is it so easy to keep promises we don’t even want to make to other people, but even easier to break the promises we felt so strongly about when we made them, to ourselves?

This past week I attended a five-day yoga retreat. We ate vegetarian food, mostly organic, did yoga daily and yoga nidra twice a day. I was feeling lighter physically and energetically and then…

On the way home a friend and I stopped at Five Guys. I ingested a WHOLE double hamburger. With. The. Bun. A shared “little” fries and a healthy helping of sweetea. Then later I waddled across the street to a friend’s barbeque where I drank more than my share of wine, ate potato chips with dip, then a baked potato – you know with toppings, of course – and more wine.

Disclaimer: I am a full quarter Irish and that 25% would like potatoes 100% of the time please.

I have no such ancestry to explain the wine.

Anyway.

I had an appointment with a trainer today to get weighed and measured like a 4H heifer. But it was good – not the numbers, but the experience and now the knowledge.

I worked out. I tried to explain to the 20 something ex-Air Force soldier that I was not in a hurry. I want to be pushed, yes, but not immobilized. I want to have goals but none of them include a bikini. I also retained my right to say no and stop when I felt my body was physically defeated. But I only pulled that card once, I wanted to push a little. I need to push.

After the workout with weights I did 30 minutes on the treadmill.  And I felt great.

Tomorrow is yoga.

For me, it’s about closing the gap on that feeling of incongruence between the wise health coach and yoga teacher inside and the squishy, tired woman on the outside.

It’s time to walk the talk. One step at a time.

 

Look What I Can Do

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me on ringsIt appears the treadmill is a good teacher and the second best place for aha moments – the first being “the chamber of insight” or as you may know it, the shower.

Walking has always been a head-clearer for me. If I’m walking in my neighborhood I don’t wear headphones, I like the sounds of birds, children, cars and the wind. When I’m at the gym, I’m definitely plugged in. And the music is loud. It propels me forward, because lets face it, the History channel, reruns of Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Fox News just don’t really inspire me to break a sweat.

As my heart rate is rising and The Black Eyed Peas are encouraging me to pump it pump it, my mind is free to wander. Have you ever thought about how amazing that is? How we are able to do one thing, think another, look at something that has nothing to do with the first two and be aware that we are witnessing all of it? Pretty special, we are.

The most recent treadmill insight came as a nice energetic head slap. Don’t you just love it when you think you are a certain way, you are sure of it, you know yourself, then the tiniest thing flips everything upside down? You begin to question everything you believe to be true about yourself. Or at least I do.

I honestly believed that I no longer cared what others thought of me. Right? We all have that inner diva who still wants attention on some level. I noticed that as I was pumping away on the treadmill I couldn’t help but let my eyes wander to the heavy sweater next to me. At what speed was his treadmill set? Was I faster? Did he notice? Look, I’m faster. And I’ve been on here longer.

Out of left field. I wanted him – a random, middle-aged, slightly chubby man – to be impressed by my speed. Ignoring the fact that there were at least 10 people actually running that were way more impressive. I have no idea what this guy even looks like. I don’t know his story. I didn’t care. Did he notice and was he impressed?

Wow.

Of course I let that realization ping all over my frenetic mind coming up with all sorts of conclusions and ridiculous speculation. Who was I now, if not the strong, confident woman who didn’t care what others thought? But the fact remained that, of course I care what people think of me. It’s the human condition. If we don’t care what they think we look like, we want them to think we are smart or funny or have some other unique skill or trait that makes us completely unique.

The way we dress, talk, spend our money and our time all tell others something about us. This does not necessarily make us narcissistic, but human. How we look, what we say and how we say it is how we find each other. It’s how we relate.

The less we get caught up in the story we’re trying to convey to the world, the more likely we are to find those whose energy is a match for our own. Trying hard to convince others we are a certain way covers our authenticity and creates false impressions. The more we relax with who we are, the more peace we have. The more our true selves and authentic uniqueness can shine.

Dropping the masks and facades takes time. Lots of time and lots of practice.

For me, the realization was helpful. In truth, they all are, some are just harder to swallow. It showed me there is much work to be done. Continuing to let go through practices like yoga nidra, yoga and meditation. Continuing to be aware of these realizations and allowing space for them.

And apparently continuing to use the treadmill. At any speed.

Liberation

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SHC IMG_7067It was recently suggested to a group of yoga teachers I was with that it is our calling to help liberate others. Many are called. They become yoga teachers and scholars, yoga nidra facilitators, Reiki masters, counselors, ministers and leaders of all sorts. But when you are told this and it hits your gut with such a fierceness that it brings tears to your eyes, you know you are on the right track. 

Let me clarify. The liberation spoken of is from our preconceived notions about ourselves, our negative self talk, our victimhood. And while I believe no one can really free another, I know it is possible to help lift the veil of illusion just enough for someone to see their own perfection. I have seen it over and over again.

The rub for me has been a disconnect. I get it. Intellectually. My mind loves this stuff, it nods vigorously in agreement. Then it sets about to disprove it or pick it apart to  try to really understand it. To get it. There must be more. It creates problems out of this one principle just so it can solve them. And when it can’t solve them it takes me to the couch with a bag of potato chips and the remote. There must be a hole in the theory. We’ll figure it out from here.

I get it. And then I forget it.

I love to teach. Almost anything. But I especially love to teach yoga and yoga nidra. I love the way people look after a class. They have accessed something so deep that most of them aren’t able to articulate it. But they know where they got it so they come back. It’s not me.  I didn’t do this for them, I just held the space for them to explore. They allowed themselves to drop into that place where the veil got a little more transparent.

This is all beautiful. But I have been moving away from teaching lately preferring instead to work on my art. A fine choice. I love creating art; painting, photographing, cut paper designs, jewelry, coloring, it doesn’t matter, I love it all. The problem lies in the reason behind the shift from teaching to art.

I wasn’t even really aware why or what that was until this past weekend. Several very skilled teachers were able to help me with that veil thing. The disconnect for me is this: How can I teach yoga and yoga nidra if I’m not practicing it? Up to now I always thought that meant physically getting on my mat striking a couple of poses then lying in savasana for yoga nidra. Part of it. Maybe.

What I got while I was salsa walking on the treadmill to Gypsy Kings yesterday was this: How can I teach liberation, how can I help free others when I am still in a cage imprisoned by my own negative self talk? By my own lack of respect for the vehicle, the physical form that I was given? By the act of self-flagellation on an energetic level?

I have gotten this concept before. It’s an old, worn idiom: Practice what you preach. But now? I. Get. It.

I do not have to be a size 2 to teach yoga. I do not have to be pious to help others find peace. I do not have to juice and starve myself to help others get healthy. BUT, for me, when I am physically practicing yoga and yoga nidra; when I am at the gym early in the morning revving my metabolism and shining my sparkle; when I am eating clean; I FEEL free. I am an expression of that which I am teaching. I am a clear channel. And people get it faster. They don’t have to work as hard.

So in the first day of this new challenge, this ginormous truth has been revealed to me. My goal, yes goal, is to dissolve the cage by being what I am teaching. It is a prison of my own construction so there is no need to look outside of myself. The journey is inward.

Rising Again

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forest IMG_3750

I just completed an intensive training the trainer training (got that?) for Yoga Nidra. It was amazing, intense, awesome, beautiful, grueling, revealing and a tremendous gift. Out of this training an unspoken challenge was issued: “Do yoga nidra everyday; it will change your life, you already know this.” And so I am prepared to accept this challenge because it has in fact changed my life. The effects are undeniable. I’m relaxed and I come from a space of peace rather than reaction perched white knuckled on my edge. I am able to be highly productive without stress. It’s magic. And I’ve let it go.

Let’s recap. Back in October I issued myself a 21 day challenge to live a more enchanted life and I identified 5 activities needed to clear the way for this to happen: yoga, yoga nidra, writing, photographing all once daily and the gym a couple times a week. I nailed the challenge then let it all go the next day. Yep. Moment of truth. I could speculate on all the reasons why, but the fact is I just stopped. As much as I wanted it to be a lifestyle change and not a “goal,” it turned into the latter. I achieved it. Done. Slowly one by one I’ve added them all back in. First the writing, then the yoga, etc. And that feels good.

In addition to Yoga Nidra, I have been asked to assist in another yoga teacher training and another 21 consecutive days of yoga has been requested of me.

Then there is a little memoir contest I have decided to enter so it seems writing daily would be a good idea.

On top of all this, I will be heading to India in, ready for this, 21 days and the Swami guiding the tour has asked all of us to commit to a daily yoga and meditation practice so we are prepared for the same once we’re on the other side of the globe.

Here’s the thing; when I did this challenge the first time I basically let go of EVERYTHING else. I went to work, I taught, I did what was asked of me, but 99% of my focus and energy was on the challenge. I was on a little vacation from my life and it was awesome! When I completed the challenge I had to play catch up, putting me in the same situation I was in before: not enough time for all of it. Or, more honestly, maybe a misguided assessment of my priorities.

So this time, and yes I will be doing this again, it feels different. I will add these things in, on top of the work that I currently do, rather than replacing it. I will create priorities out of some aspects of the challenge and allow space for others. I know it’s possible.

Here’s the challenge: yoga nidra  and writing daily. Yoga and Gym as often as I can. Which is to say I will do some sort of physical exercise daily, I’m just not going to be militant as to what. As I write this I don’t feel the same sense of urgency or excitement I did before, and I think maybe that’s good. Instead, there’s a quiet determination and a sense of calm confidence. I’ve got this.

A few days after the last challenge when it was clear to me that I had slipped into the to-do list abyss, I was feeling a sense of failure and berating myself for undoing it all. But I didn’t undo anything. I simply stopped doing all of it at once and brought each component back in as I felt the need. All the work I had done was valid. It helped. It was time well spent.

My life is still enchanted, magic happens everyday. I didn’t need to do all those things daily to create an environment for enchantment to arise. I did need to do the challenge to reveal to me that I already had an enchanted life. I only had to recognize it.

I also believe anytime I am moving a little farther down the continuum of  self care and self love; honoring the vehicle I have been gifted, it is always a win.

So I will rise to the challenge again with curiosity and an appreciation of the experiences. I’ll post daily as before for those who want to follow along or create their own challenges. Please share your challenges and ideas with me, and we can grow together.

[Photo: Salt Springs, Florida. Deep in the Ocala National Park where pine trees sing like running water.]

21 Day Challenge – Day 3 – Morning Thoughts

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fog park IMG_1219

Because intention is the key to living an Enchanted Life, I want to explore this idea a little further. Based on some of the comments I received on my last blog, I’m afraid I may have thrown a few people off track, or at the very least, been unclear.

My intention is not to lose weight. It would be a welcome side effect of this work – but that’s it. Dieting is a distraction, it is a way to divert attention from the real work. I’m gonna roll the dice here and bet that it is no one’s true purpose to diet. I used weight as an example because it is relatable, nearly everyone has had a goal to lose weight. But that is not what this intention is about.

My intention is to Live a Creative Life. It is actually a little stronger and deeper than that, but I’ll expand on that later. So let’s just go with Living a Creative Life.

All the things I am asking myself to do on a daily basis are the tools and tasks to keep me on track to live that intention. In the present.

1. Gym. I use the treadmill and engage in physical activity because I am a pitta (Ayurvedic body constitution – more on that another time) and my body loves activity. I am energized by moving aerobically.

2. Yoga. I cannot deny the benefits of a daily yoga practice. It allows my body to feel lighter and longer. I can move and release any frozen prana (energy – more on that later too) that may be showing up as energetic blockages.

3. Yoga Nidra. Meditation on steroids, Yoga Nidra calms and clears the mind. It allows the space between the perceived negative thought or incident and my equal and opposite negative reaction to grow. Eventually the incident or thought holds no charge so I am nonreactive. This takes me out of reaction and duality and into a state of nonreactive peace. This, too is an energy conserver.

Using these three tools creates the conditions that allow me to be a lightning rod for inspiration. I am an open channel for Presence to flow through me AND I have the physical energy and stamina to act on that inspiration.

4. No alcohol. Clarity. I love a nice glass of pinot noir, but I’m on a quest to become clear and I have noticed that wine is the gateway to sloth for me. It encourages me to eat junk late at night, stay up too late and sleep in. It’ll be back, but for now it’s one more distraction I can let go of.

5 and 6. Writing and photography. These are my passions and how I express myself creatively most often. There is skill involved, so the more I practice, the better I get. In addition to improving, I begin to develop and refine my own style.

This is my intention, This is my method to stay present and live that intention. Your intention will likely be different so your toolbox will be a different color and size than mine. It’s yours to fill. We can work on it together.

My intention is my yard stick. I measure big decisions and daily choices against it. Clearing physical and mental space to allow energy to flow through me supports this intention. Sleeping in, reading romance novels all day and watching TV all night takes me away from this intention.

The work is to remove the distractions by creating an environment in which they just don’t fit. The gift is clarity and synchronicity. The gift is living my intention.