Beginning Today...

Another reminder to exhale...



Excerpts:  By Penny White

Beginning Today

I will look in the mirror and I will see a
person worthy of my respect and admiration.
This capable person looking back at me is
someone I enjoy spending time with and someone
I would like to get to know better.

Beginning today

I will cherish each moment of my life.
I value this gift bestowed upon me in this world
and I will unselfishly share this gift
with others. I will use this gift to enhance
the lives of others.

Beginning today

I will take a moment to step off the beaten path
and to revel in the mysteries I encounter.
I will face challenges with courage and
determination. I will overcome what barriers
there may be which hinder my quest for
growth and self-improvement.

Holiday Fashion Faux Pas

faux pas n. pl.
A violation of accepted social norms, customs or etiquette, varying widely from culture to culture, usually used in social and diplomatic contexts; a blunder, especially a social blunder.  A fashion faux pas occurs when the error is directly related to a person's appearance or choice of clothing.

When I was flying to Vegas in December of 2010, I saved the copy of Sky Magazine from my flight.  Why?  Well, for one thing, I was enamored with the beautiful photos and illustrations of Great Escapes, hoping to some day -- SOME DAY -- be lucky enough to make it to even one of these yummy places.  But mostly because I could so relate to the hilarious quote by Clinton Kelly, the style editor of the magazine, from his article entitled "Party Poopers," specifically, his take on holiday sweaters and the heed to refrain from wearing "red and green" to holiday events. 

I couldn't help but notice, once again THIS year, the many holiday sweaters, vests, sweatshirts, and other obnoxious adornments that people -- women -- chose to wear in their feeble attempt to look festive.  This is one of those pressing times when one feels led to make a nationwide public service announcement to women who choose to drag these atrocities from their closets each year and dare wear them in public.  (Spare us all and clean/update your closets:  BURN THEM)

We've all seen them. 

Enough already!  ... she nauseously pleaded.

And so sharing Clinton Kelly's sentiments on holiday fashion faux pas, remembering how I giggled aloud when I first read this article on my flight, I decided to include excerpts from it in my blog.  Point well taken, CK.

Your Sweater Should Not Light Up
Any garment featuring appliqued snowmen, snowflakes, elves, reindeer, Christmas trees, candy canes, holly leaves or Santa faces must be destroyed immediately.  There's a law.  In fact, if you are in possession of a sweater or vest that plays "Jingle Bells" or illuminates in any way, you will be deported.  OK.  I'm kidding about the law, but seriously, people, this is not cute!

Red and Green?  No thank you.
When kids play elves in the school play, the teacher tells them to wear a red or green sweater.  Then she makes them little caps out of construction paper.  When you show up at a holiday party wearing a red or green sweater, you look like a 9-year-old with a glandular condition who lost his cap.

Let Every Heart Prepare Him Room

My Christmas prayer...

that every heart would indeed

find room for Him in their hearts.

Christmas Eve Candlelight Service...it's the nexus of my family's celebration of Christmas every year, a re-enactment of the Nativity story, narrated with scripture and punctuated with carols, instrumentals, and solos throughout, special lighting -- including a suspended beautiful Star of Bethlehem -- special effects, and a revolving stage in the round.

The part of Baby Jesus was played this year by a two-month old baby girl --
stunningly beautiful child, with dark hair and eyes (her father is from India), and she smiled and cooed at "Mary and Joseph" all throughout.  My oldest son played the part of one of the kings, proudly wearing his gold costume as he came to worship the Baby, bearing his gifts, and bowing in praise -- a gesture not of acting, but with utmost sincerity and flowing freely from the core of his heart and soul.  Each year, though I've heard (and watched) this story countless times, I am brought to tears by its beauty and simplicity.  It's as if I'm hearing the story for the first time. 

The service ends with the lighting of candles, each person passing his flame to the next, then with candles held high in the darkness of the room, we softly sing Silent Night, then extinguish our candles and leave the church quietly and reverently.

This IS Christmas.  This is the story.

God's GIFT TO THE WORLD.

May we all find room in our hearts for His Gift of Love to us.

COMFORT and JOY

I found myself in dire need of comfort yesterday afternoon.  It's Christmastime again, and I miss my mom.  A lot.  More than last year even.  The hole in my heart -- in my world -- is wrecking me.  It isn't working, trying to stay occupied, busy.  Nothing is enough distraction to make me stop thinking about her, about how much I miss her.  How I need her.

Finally, after spending the entire afteroon yesterday jumping from task to unfinished task, a desperate attempt to deny and suppress the gnawling ache of my emotions, I decided to eat Cheesy Bread from Little Caesar's. (What? I don't really even LIKE Cheesy Bread.) I ate a few sticks, then tore the cheese off the top of the rest of it, ate the cheese, and threw all the rest of it away, washing it down with a DIET A&W Rootbeer. Diet. Of course, diet.

I later ate jelly beans.  Old ones.  I don't much like jelly beans either.  And I ate a few Chipins -- chips made from popcorn.  Now those WERE satisfying. 

And then it dawned on me:  The only thing you have accomplished in eating this shit is making yourself sick, bloated, and miserable.  It was a very tiny -- TEENY TINY -- bandaid on the gaping wound of your bleeding heart.  It wasn't enough.  Nothing is.  There is no elixir for this kind of hurt.

So why did I eat that food?  I asked myself:  WHY IN THE HELL DID YOU EAT THIS SHIT? 

And then I found myself face to face with my dilemma:  I'm hurting. 

Stop running from it.  You can't run from it.  You can't cover it up.  You can't drink it away, or eat it away.  It is what it is.  Relentless.

I must come to terms with this emotion.

Comfort food is only gonna make matters worse.

There is no TRUE COMFORT in comfort food.  It's temporary 'JOY,' but it is not comforting.

A lesson I've had to learn over and over and over again.

"There's a compelling reason for the pint of premium ice cream in the freezer, the supply of candy bars in the office desk drawer, or the collection of cereal boxes in the pantry. These are all examples of comfort food, those concoctions which provide a sense of nostalgia or self-satisfaction for the consumer. Comfort food is not designed to be especially healthy or politically correct, but it supplies a welcomed respite from the stresses of the outside world."

Let the "mountain moving" begin!

"If you have faith as a mustard seed, you will slay to this mountain, 'Move from here to there,' and it will move;
and nothing will be impossible for you."  Matthew 17:20


A dear, sweet friend sent me a prayer this morning via email.  Upon reading it, tears began rolling down my cheeks, and it left me speechless with joy, thanksgiving, renewed spirit, and a peace that replaced all doubt and fear with faith and trust in all that I'm capable of through my Heavenly Father.  Nothing could have meant more to me...what a beautiful prayer.

And so...I share it here, as it should be.  I will print it and take it with me backstage, and I will hold fast to its assurances.

                      Dear Heavenly Father,

My friend T is getting ready for a new adventure in her life -

and she is nervous and maybe scared. But Lord, you know the time and commitment she has devoted to this .

Lord, help her to feel comfort in knowing her body is YOUR temple!

Help her to put behind her any negative thoughts or words

and focus on you and giving you the glory.

You have made her a wonderful being in your likeness

and no one can take that away from her.

Help her to feel calm and remind her how blessed she truly is!!!

Keep her safe in her travels and bring her back to us, her friends!
In Jesus' name I pray,
Amen

--------------------------

"God gave you this glorious day.

Don't disappoint Him.

Use it for His glory."

- Marie T. Freeman

The Time Draws Near

I can't believe how time has passed so quickly, my having begun this prep mid August.  It's now only days away from my first competition. 

Reflecting on my progress, I truly have to marvel at the changes that have taken place:  Increased strength, definition, lean body mass, endurance.  I've dropped weight and clothes size.  I no longer have anything to wear to work!  One pair of pants that slightly fit!  I have recomped my body in ways I never thought possible in a seemingly very short period of time.

When I began, did I think I was up to this challenge?  Hopefully.  Was I confident that I could get my body as lean as I needed to in order to comfortably and confidently compete in my division?  No.  Hopeful, yes.  Certain?  No. 

It has been a fabulously rewarding journey, and I have no regrets.  As the days wind down to the finish line, I feel more tired, sluggish, very depleted, no longer able to complete my morning cardio runs; I have had to replace the runs with power walking.  I've had to will myself to DIG DEEP these last two days as I struggle to find the energy to complete my cardio and training.  The past couple of days I've felt somewhat dizzy and slightly -- "buzzed," if that makes sense.  I'm told it's because I'm depleted and dehydrated, and that it's a normal way to feel at this stage.  My training is nowhere near as intense as it has been, as training now takes back seat to cardio.  Posing is priority.  One can never get too much practice posing.

All plans have been made, nails and tanning appointments scheduled, jewelry and makeup selected and packed, my list of things to take with me being added to daily.   I've begun having food dreams.  Oh, mercy!  Is that freaky or what?  I dream of loaded gooey pizza; fresh, warm, homemade sourdough bread, smothered in garlic and cheese, dipped in olive oil and spices.  Mississippi Mud Cake.  Pita Chips.  Ergo wine.  These are the things I crave.  I fear I will go crazy when I finally get to eat normally that first meal following the competition.

I don't want to totally lose control.  I want to maintain focus to preserve the progress I've made.  Realizing that keeping my body fat at this percentage during off season is not practical, nor is it desireable, I still want to maintain my tighter, leaner body within a realistic degree.

Who would have ever thought that at 51 I would be competing in my first figure competition?  That I would ever be this lean, this strong, this fit -- in my fifties.  Where do I go from here?  What are my goals from this point forward?  How can I use this experience to help others achieve their own goals?

My thoughts collide with questions and ponderings. 

All I care about right now is walking out on that stage with unwavering confidence and pride, embracing my intentional alter ego as I showcase the passion that I have been living for the past few months.  I want to say to the world: 

I AM MY COMPETITION. 
I AM AN ATHLETE. 
I HAVE GIVEN 100% EFFORT TO THIS SPORT. 

And now it's

MY TIME TO SHINE.

The Bronzed Blogger

It's no secret that I love the sun (witness my blog profile photo).  The sun warms, brightens, lifts our spirits.  The most natural source for Vitamin D, it makes us happy when we're sad.  It makes us look healthier, younger and SKINNIER than we otherwise look without it.  Unfortunately, too much of it can be a bad thing.  It can cause premature aging, and worse, skin cancer.

About one week ago I had my FIRST EVER SPRAY TAN.  I'm a virgin spray tanner.  Yep. 

Oh.How.Daunting.  Stripping nude in front of another person (doesn't matter that she was female) and baring all, in every position imaginable (she instructed me how to stand, bend, move), I couldn't help but wonder: 

What is she thinking as she's doing this?  Should I just liken this to a gynecological visit?  It's her job.  It's what she does.  Okay.  I'll keep telling myself this, and maybe my reluctancy won't seem so obvious.

When it was over, I couldn't wait to see. Oh. YES. I should have had this done long ago. The healthy way to tan. Short-lived, but healthy. And even. And yummy and sexy.

I will be spray tanned before my competition, and I didn't want my first session to be in front of a perfect stranger, at an event when my nerves will already be on end.  This was practice.  Having just had my nails done (French), even THEY looked sexier with the tan!  And my teeth whiter.  It's just...well, it's all good.   Now I know why the celebrities have perrenial tans.  It's not cheap, but it's far more even, natural, sexier, and healthier for us than the alternatives.

And as for my training progress? Yes, the tan shows it off even more. Very cool.

I'm told my spray tan at the competition (already scheduled) will be even DARKER.  Okaaaaay.  The tanning sponsor there offers matching MAC stage makeup for my face.  I've already begun the search for darker, more dramatic shadows and liners to accent my suit -- which should be arriving any day.  Can't wait.  I guess I'd better practice with the stage makeup and false eyelashes BEFORE the day of the show. 

This pic was taken after my son's football game at St. Vincent (beautiful campus, by the way) one day after my first spray tan.  It was a very warm day, so no worries sporting my "uniform," -- a tank top and jeans.  It's my favorite go-to outfit.  I'd wear it to work if I could get by with it. 

My accessories?  I didn't really need any (even though I wore plain med-large hoops and my favorite Lucky bracelet with my watch). 

The BRONZE was all I needed.