A Victory!

With shaking hands and a pounding heart I went into my closet this morning, and took the pair of shorts from the bottom of the pile. These shorts aren't just any shorts. They are THE shorts. The "goal shorts".

Now, for those of you who know me, I am a true hourglass, curvy woman. I have boobs and a butt and I am SO not ashamed to admit it. I love my body type, and always have. I am strong and athletic with calves that look great with a pair of heels or trainers. However, with curves comes a constant battle of clothes not fitting, or not fitting correctly (too big in the waist, too small in the butt, too much boob showing, meteor shower on my thighs shows, the list goes on. I haven't really lost any weight in the past year, although I have been working out tons and strength training like a mad woman.

Fast Forward again to my closet this morning. I pulled out my shorts. They are navy blue, Gap chino like shorts. What's more American than navy blue shorts? I put both legs in and BAM! Like Emeril, they fit. This is a victory for me, proof that I don't (more like refuse) to deprive myself of foods I love, work out every single day to exhaustion, and let the scale dictate health.

Don't get me wrong, I have lots of goals for my health, however, it felt great today to shimmy in my skinny shorts and button them without sucking in :)

Cheers to a healthy 4th (I WILL be eating s'mores and a burger)!

New Job!

Hi All,

Well, since my last post, there has been one huge thing that happened:

I got a grown up job! Not only a grown up job, but a job in the field that I want to work in! I am the new Fitness Center and Group Exercise Coordinator at a local Community Center.

I am so, SO excited to dive in and start learning... and there will be a LOT of that to do. I am in charge of a staff of about 35 and ALL of their schedules. Good thing I like logistics :)

I also get to lead a Teen Bootcamp. It. Is. A. Blast. They are a group of awesome teens who are so hard working and fun. Last week we did 15 minutes of warm ups and plyos (hard plyos, they were troopers: jump squats, butt kicks, high knees, and burpees). Then half an hour of circuit training (thank you Garage band for letting me make tons of 1 minute clips with 30 second pauses!) and 10 minutes of core and cool down. They were such troopers. We set team goals, and I think they even had fun.

I am SO excited about this path that I am on. It has taken a while for me to get what I want, but the wait has been so worth it. The experience I'll gain here for my age is great! Cheers to a healthy 4th!

You Win Again, Mini Golf

Last weekend, I went on another Match date. I had spoken to said gentleman a few times. He was a Fitness Professional, and seemed pretty nice. He invited me out Mini Golfing, and I said sure.

Let me take the opportunity to present my only mini-golfing experience previous to this date. My brother decided he wanted to go to Grand Slam for one of his birthdays. Grand Slam was the Babe Ruth of all kids' South Twin Cities birthday dreams. Arcades, mini-golf, batting cages, and laser tag, this place was AWESOME. For realskis. At the party, my parents let me partake by mini-golfing. Because giving the most accident prone child of three a putter and a golf ball is obviously the best choice. All I remember about that day is my mom saying, "This is NOT baseball!!!" as my golf ball went flying across the course. Call me Tiger Woods baby.

Present Day:
Upon meeting at the mini-golf joint, I met my date.

First indicator it wasn't going to work: he was wearing khaki cargos, brown lace up Heavy Doc Martins and black, halfway up the calf socks. 


After making lots of small talk, we continued through the different holes. Although said date was slightly boring, the hilarious gay couple behind me kept narrating my awesome mini-golf skills and cracking me up.

Along about hole 7, I had to putt my ball into the hole from the edge of a water trap. I'm sure you can all see where this is going...

Upon putting out of the water trap, I tipped backwards, resulting in a Matrix-like backbend over the man-made creek. To my date's defense, he did grab my arm and rescue me from the perils of having a wet butt for the rest of the evening. I'm of course laughing in hysterics b/c the situation is rather hilarious. I don't think my date appreciated the exuberance. I was cool with it. *sidenote: the couple behind us ups their commentary, and it is just freaking hilarious by this point*.

Aside from my date just kind of being boring in general and kind of annoying and whiney about the putter he was given the topper on not wanting to see him again was when he thought he messed up recording the score, and he walked all the way through the mini-golf course (a good 10 minutes of me waiting up at the top...) to attempt to figure out where the score could have gone wrong. And by walking all the way through, I do mean through other peoples' games resulting in me realizing that he is kind of rude even after I told him I'd take one for the team and he could have winning score. 


All in all, it was an hour and a half of my time, and I stopped by Dairy Queen on the way home, so all was well. Beware of those with Doc Martin's and shorts. 

Digging in the Dirt (and other adventures of grandeur)

Hello All!
I apologize for my absence. I fully realize all 6 of my followers have been waiting on the edge of their seats waiting for another haphazard date. I regret to inform you, there have been no dates since the last post (not even bad ones)!

I have been far too busy doing this:

And This

I will write stories regarding both of these next time. Until then, I have lots more garden beds to dig up and plant, and end tables and small figurines to dust.

To Weigh or Not to Weigh

Since starting studying for my Personal Training exam (through ACE), I have been going back and forth about scales. Some advise throwing your scale away and using a tape measurer and the way your jeans fit to measure ones successes, and I can see how that would be extremely beneficial. Less mind games, less

However, since I am an anal retentive control freak at times  like to know, I prefer weighing myself daily. But that scale is really hard to face at times. So I definitely don't do it every day. Or after ingesting massive amounts of pizza and beer (yup, even health professionals do it at times...). I only weigh myself on days that I feel fabulous, and if that number doesn't match what I'd want it to, then I put the scale away and focus on my goals.

But here is the case in point: If a number on a machine that is probably inaccurate anyway is determining the mood of your day, put the scale in the back closet. Step back and learn how to rely on how you FEEL. Do you feel strong and healthy?  Do you feel like shakin' your tail feather in your pair of jeans? If so then celebrate!

If you're not feeling so rocking one day, stay away from the scale and put on something comfortable!! That cute belted sundress that makes you feel like a million because if doesn't have a button at your waist, or your yoga pants that instantly lift your butt.

If you focus on how you feel, you will start to make connections between your habits and the benefits or downfalls of them. Then, if you want, integrate the scale slowly into your feel good routine.

Tomorrow is Sunday, a fresh start to the week. Start on a good note and don't weigh yourself :)

Upon recently nosediving into the world of online dating, I have been puzzled with one aspect of "modern" dating. Now don't get me wrong, I'm only 24 so I haven't had a lifetime of dating experience. However, I am puzzled by the current trend of texting as a primary form of dating communication instead of calling to ask me out or getting to know me.

In fact, I am so annoyed by the texting me first thing that it has become a deal breaker. I personally would like to know if my date has an abnormally high voice.

So now I question, is this something I'll just have to deal with or should I stay on the "if he doesn't have balls to call then I don't want to date him" path?

Decisions, Decisions.

Personality: Type A Chaos

So many of you may know, I am a walking disaster. I am clumsy, always have bruises that I don't know how I get, and my bedroom at any given moment looks like a department store AND sporting goods store exploded. But here's the thing: in my head I am crazy organized. 

I swear I color code my thoughts. 

I THINK IN EXCEL SPREADSHEET FORM

I get mad when shirts with phrases on them have improper punctuation. Just ask http://www.girlwithblog.com/

I constantly struggle with closing the gap. Wouldn't it be nice to come home to a clean house that is extremely organized? Moms of two year olds can do it even though they live with multiple tornados who fingerpaint and leave things everywhere. I have just me. No animals to blame it on or roommates. 

Now I love living alone but man I'm horrible at being domestic. 

In college, I usually had a crazy organized room that's just b/c the rooms were glorified shoe boxes .

Tonight, I will toast by myself b/c I can't go out because I lost my 2nd debit card in a month's time to attempting to better my external organization. And to putting my cards in the right slots in my wallet.

Amy