Gym Girl Dana

When we were kids, my mom would be adamant that we only play in the back yard when it snowed. “It’s so pretty and I don’t want you to mess it up” was her logic. Can’t say I disagree now that I’m older. The snow is beautiful when it falls and blankets the area, and like her, I like to see my front yard undisturbed.

As I looked out the window at the beauty, it got me thinking…

Isn’t this how every human life begins? Beautiful. Innocent. Clean. And then eventually, something or someone comes along and messes it up.

Ignorance isn’t always bliss.

Why is teaching hate seemingly so much easier than teaching love? Why is acceptance so hard? Why is breaking a cycle seemingly unacceptable to so many?

We learn the lessons from our parents. From our grandparents. From our extended family. Sometimes those lessons aren’t necessarily right. They can’t be blamed, it’s what they were taught. It’s how they were raised. But it doesn’t mean that we don’t continue to learn to improve ourselves, our children, our families. Does it?

It’s a new month of a new year. Another seemingly fresh start as the snow has silenced the morning. Take today to reflect and shine as brightly as one thousand suns and share that light with others. Let today be a day of change. Let today be filled with kindness.

And then again tomorrow.

As a child, you don’t fully grasp what lessons you are being taught versus lessons you are learning through observation. You certainly don’t know enough to decipher between right and wrong on many levels, you’re imitating what you’re seeing. You’re being taught what your parents and grandparents have known. Yet, generations change and not everyone changes with the times.

There are a few memories that truly still resonate. My very first trip to a gynecologist. Now, this is terrifying enough for a young girl. My mom had taken me to her doctor, whom I’d seen instantly that he was not that far from retirement (so I’d thought). I was a teenager and loved the beach and also was tanning to keep my color even and line free. I’m on the table and the exam begins and while the doctor is examining for any lumps or signs of abnormality, the doctor states, “The last time I’ve seen dark breasts they were on a Negro.” Yep. I was shocked, disgusted and all around horrified. My response, “The last I’d heard Blacks don’t like to be called Negros.” He stopped talking. I’d stopped talking. And I’d told my mom with the request to never go back there. I was bothered on so many levels.

I pride myself to take people at the person. Not the color. Now have I messed up in this? Sure.

As I raised my son, it was important that he look at the person, not the skin. One of my proudest young parenting moments was when we were out somewhere and my son observed what ‘the purple guy did’. I scanned the crowd, it was a black man in a purple shirt. He’d not seen the skin, he saw the person. This went on for years. And I loved it.

We had gay friends and neighbors and my son didn’t even realize they were different. He was interested in how they treated him and if he was having fun in their presence. I’m very much the same. Still am.

I truly don’t care about your race, sexual orientation, pronoun use, identity, color, religion or anything else. I truly don’t. I care that you are a good person. I care that you are decent.

Like anything else in life, being an asshole in society is a choice. It doesn’t come with any kind of preconceived notion or skin color.

In order to change, we have to be the change we want to see in the world.

Ask the questions. Be decent. Be kind. Be the change.

In life, work, fitness. Effort equals results. You can’t show up half assed for something and expect full assed results. Additionally, we have witnessed that other than having winning lottery numbers, nothing happens over night.

Being in the industry, I’ve tried it all. I’ve logged my food and I’ve counted macros. I’ve weighed my portions and eaten at certain times. I’ve cleansed. I’ve cut carbs. Been Keto gang and peed on test strips to ensure I was in ketosis. I’ve carb cycled. Only fruit until noon. Nearly a lifetime pescatarian, I’ve gone vegan, vegetarian & at one point introduced chicken and turkey to work on getting more and different protein to see how my body would react. I’ve done a raw diet. Cabbage soup. Part of these changes was to experience what I was learning while studying nutrition. Other times it was to chase my goals. If I thought I’d be fitter, faster, leaner or stronger I tried it.

Until I stopped. Stopped racing. Stopped being so consistent with training. Stopped counting every calorie. Well, we all know what happened.

Balance is challenging. True balance isn’t achievable as far as I’ve witnessed. Something has to give. Something is compromised at one point or another. Doesn’t mean that the balances don’t deviate or vacillate from one side to the other..I think that’s more realistic, truly. You can’t give 100% to more than one thing; it’s just not possible.

There was a meme I reposted on my GymGirlDana Instagram story: I don’t want to be 88 years old and look back on a life of counting almonds and being frightened of bananas. It really resonated with me. Because that’s where I’m now back to.

Tracking food and counting calories with My Fitness Pal. Daily weigh ins and on a mission to close my activity rings on my Apple Watch. (If you have one, you know!) And this is on top of diligently working on two challenging careers, running a household, meal prep, taking care of others and ensuring their needs are met and so on. That very well could be where this all starts to waver.

We put ourselves last.

Why?

If your cup isn’t full, you can’t fill others. Yet, we will deplete ourselves, empty our own cups and then act surprised that we’ve fallen short. Or, as we have seen, we excuse it away….yep, another excuse as to why we can’t achieve something. Sorry to tell you, but it’s baloney. (Fun fact, don’t recall ever eating baloney in my life. Never had a cheese puff, cheese doodle, cheese curl or any kind of orange dyed thing.)

After all we do in a course of the day, why then is so much of our self worth placed on our pants size? How did we get here? In knowing this as a society (I know it’s not just me), why do we not create new ways to change this perception? If I was a clothier, I’d create a new clothing line without sizes. Use tag lines. Just think how much more successful our days would start if we put on size Awesome pants or slipped into our Determined size dress! It certainly would be a game changer and maybe with some help in the self esteem department and a feeling of daily success, we would be motivated to try on size Incredible to see how that fit.

Is it just me?

That’s the problem though isn’t it? You always think there’s more time.

Time is the one thing that you give away that you absolutely can not get back.

I’ve never been a time waster. Until these last few years. And it’s horrific.

So I’ve vowed to not go another summer hiding and now there’s just 122 days until Memorial Day. 30 and a half weeks. 2,928 hours from midnight. 117 is 4% of those hours. 4% is the average of time that should be dedicated to fitness each day, in case you were wondering where that number is coming from. This means that I should have zero issue getting into a bathing suit this year. With 30 weeks, and the average weight loss being .5-1lb per week, I could conceivably lose the weight I want.

It’s going to take dedication and work. Discipline and determination. But it can happen. And I’m hoping you will be one of my accountability partners. Hell, I hope you’ll join me on this journey.

I’d sold a home. I’m in debt. I’d ended a long term relationship. More work. New jobs. Moving. College loans. Additional bills. Drinking. Family strife. Stress. I could blame any and all of those things, right? Every decision I’d made was mine. I had the choice to step towards my goals or further away from them. I’d chosen the latter. Out of fear. Laziness. Boredom. Comfort. I’d chosen the latter time and time and time again.

No more. Well, I’m going to be much more present.

This girl didn’t hide under clothes or cover up with the dark. She didn’t flaunt anything either, but she had a quiet confidence.

As I sit here in my sons hoodie and baggie pajama pants writing my blog, my eyes fill up looking between where I was and where I am. Just because I’m here now, doesn’t mean that I’ve got to stay here forever.

So I’m headed to my Peloton.

One day or day one? Let’s chose the latter again, this time with purpose.

I’d gone up one size. I couldn’t continue to squeeze my good times into the same clothes I’d been wearing. It’s not a good look, like, at all.

I’d gone from savage to far beyond average and was still trying to fool myself. Still blaming age, stress, blood type, brain, and whatever else I could. I’ve learned so much about myself and solidified and experienced so many lessons I’ve taught others.

You can’t get the ass you want while sitting on it.

I’ve got to change.

A poor attitude is like a flat tire, you won’t go anywhere until you change it.

Yep. I was still stuck.

Each morning I’d start the day with the best attitude and greatest intentions. However, at some point I’d fail. And the spiral that put into motion of self loathing and overwhelming frustration was fierce. I was the antithesis of everything I’d stood for over the years. Worst part for me was I felt like a liar, a fraud and a failure.

I began to not recognize myself.

In the past, I’d had zero issues with mental toughness. I was a freaking monster. I could do anything I’d set my mind to. I could rise to any challenge. I’d trained through injuries. I’d eat for fuel and not fun. I didn’t care about food. It was simply the vehicle for my body to perform. I was a freak on some levels and man oh man do I miss those days and absolutely realize the lack of appreciation for myself then.

What happened? How’d I go from unstoppable to slamming on the brakes? I don’t know. I honestly don’t know how I started to slide. More alarming was when I finally did catch the slide, why didn’t I stop it? Instead, I’d turned head first and dove all in to my mental demise.

Now I’ve hit rock bottom and staring upwards. It’s time to begin the climb out.

Icebox Short Hills was already sold prior to my commitment and signing on the accept the role of Area Rep. What that means is, I’d not earned the commission on the sale of the license. However, I’d be doing the work to get it up and running. In all transparency, I was pretty freaking nervous as I was not confident with all of the modalities of Icebox. I’m still learning. After all, I pride myself on never being the smartest person in the room…there’s always something to learn and improve upon.

There was no real training due to the travel restrictions and being unable to see my girls in GA. Plenty of zooms, emails, phone calls. But nothing takes the place of in person anything. It’s that energy. It’s the physical, hands on learning that works best for me. In any event, I’d make it work. I’d self study and create flash cards and fake it until it became second nature.

Talk about timing! As Icebox had sold and found real estate, OTF was beginning to prepare for opening. I was caught between excitement and terror.

So I ate. Shocker.

My workouts were happening. My Peloton was my pal and I’d even been doing a Beach Body program with a friend and we held each other accountable. However, I’m in my basement. In my pjs. With no one watching. So I didn’t feel that pressure to perform. Hell, being in my pajamas some days I’d scaled back simply because I’d not put a bra on yet. I’m not proud to admit these things, but it’s been a process.

I’m an Apple Watch wearer. I was living to close my rings. I’d been in competitions with my friends and I’d even upped my calories to make myself push harder. During it all, one constant remains, you can not out train a poor diet.

Yep. Still drinking.

Although my food wasn’t terrible, it was too much. It was too late. It was too often. And even though it’s a cauliflower crust, it’s still pizza. Just because it’s gluten free doesn’t make it less of a cookie.

You can’t pour sugar on shit and call it a brownie.

Basically, that is what I was trying to accomplish with my half assed routines.

I’m the Regional Sales & Operations Manager of Orangetheory Fitness New Providence, Middletown, Shrewsbury (all in NJ), Allentown and Easton (both PA). Easton, the baby of the group, has been sitting empty for months. It’s been completed and ready for opening, however, with the state of the pandemic & current economy, we wait. We had our training dates and staff hired and have put it all on delay. It’s been a tough road.

In June, I’d taken on the role of Area Representative of NJ for Icebox Cryotherapy. The responsibilities of being an AR consist of selling the franchise licenses and developing the territory and the studios. Getting Icebox on the map and creating successful teams with a thriving business. It’s not a small job. It’s a career. Icebox is a natural fit, as we already had a great relationship with Icebox’s founder and CEO. The Icebox Corporate team is made up of women. You bet I wanted to be involved.

Within all the hype and excitement, I’d not fully thought out the challenges of selling licenses in an area that was closed down, during a time that banks were tightening their lending, due to the uncertainty of the pandemic. Nope. I just focused on what could be and decided to make it so.

Often times, I shoot first and ask questions later. It’s something I’m working on.

None of these decisions I’ve regretted. They do play a part in my stresses however. And they do play into my excuses. Now I’d had a dozen more reasons to not work out, I needed to sell another franchise that people in NJ didn’t really know anything about and couldn’t see unless they were headed to GA to visit HQ. No big deal, right? Especially when it’s frowned upon to travel and there’s self quarantines in place upon entry and return of certain states. No biggie.

What the hell have I gotten myself into?!

Why do we do this? Why when we meet our intended behavior do we reward ourselves with food? Especially when most times this treat is the exact trigger we are fighting against?!

Success comes from preparedness and preparedness comes from setting a SMART goal. Specific, Measurable, Achievable, Realistic and Timely. I’m sure I don’t need to go into detail here, but I’ll add a little insight just in case this is new for you.

Specific. Lose weight isn’t a specific goal. How much do you want to lose? How much body fat do you want to reduce? How much muscle are you looking to add? Nail down these numbers and make your goal specific.

Measurable. You’ve got to be able to measure your success. The scale, a tape measurer, calipers, an InBody, whatever… even progress photos can work. You’ve got to be able to literally see your progress.

Achievable. Let’s tie this right in with Realistic. Let’s even go a step further and loop it in with Timely. You’ve got to have honest and sensible goals that can be supported by science and effort in order to achieve them in your desired time frame. It’s important to have all of this information because a goal without a time frame is really just a dream. So follow the plan.

When you focus on each of these areas, it’ certainly helps you to achieve your desired goals. The Realistic portion is just as it sounds. Let’s not go from the couch and plan a marathon for four days from now…be realistic. If the only running you’ve done is to the refrigerator, let’s start with a walk around the block first. It’s human nature to convince ourselves that we will go from slug to super hero in one nights sleep; but is it realistic?! Probably not for the long haul.

You didn’t get into the shape you’re currently in over night. It’s a series of days and a progression of decisions. If you’re not in peak physical condition, at what point did you opt for a larger pair of pants instead of increasing your physical activity? Again, no judgement. I’m right there with you this time. I’m planning on this being the last time for me, however.

What kind of shape? Round is a shape. It’s just not one most people aspire to be in.

The resources are endless. Recipes, food blogs, workout videos, fitness programs, motivational memes, walking plans, running routines, music to move by, dancing workouts and so on and so on….the tv shows, success stories, social media moguls…it’s all at your disposal and much of it free. But it’s not motivating. Why? So you subscribe to a plan because if you pay for it you’ll use it because you don’t want to lose the money. However, one day turns to two and into a week and into a month and nothing has changed. Why?

If you don’t find the time to take a hold of better health, you will make the time to see your doctors. That’s a fact. And one that is so avoidable.

So I’ll ask again, why?!

Maybe not immediately after a break up, but at some point we realize that we were in love with this person and they are still going to be a part of our lives, so lets make the best of it. At least, that’s how we see it in our family.

My sons dad, Dennis, was my first great love. We challenged each other, changed each other a bit and had a friendship that was and still is the basis of our success in parenting and our non marital relationship.

Most people divorce and dread seeing their ex, let alone having to spend any time with them. Often times being across the room from one another, forcing the child(ren) to choose where to look for attention. Sadly, the tension is often overshadowing the event, causing more stress and strife and blame pushing. With us, we knew that although we once wanted one another, we now wanted what was best for one another, and mainly to do what is best for our son, Shane.

Our holidays consist of myself, Shane, Shane’s dad, Shane’s stepmom, my mom, my dad, my stepmom and at one point, my ex. All together and truly having a great time! Dennis and I continue to have an amazing friendship and one that I’m truly grateful for. Dennis was lucky enough to not only have me as a best friend, but he’s met and married another bestie and she’s nothing short of awesome. As a mother, you can’t ask for more than a woman that treats your children well. She has always been good to Shane, she’s always taken care of Dennis, and she’s always been an ally and friend to me and even my parents. It’s a blessing that many people can’t appreciate.

It wasn’t always easy. It wasn’t an instant bond. But it’s one that over time was built on mutual respect, fierce loyalty and a deep love. We all shared the common goal of Shane. His happiness as well as a life lesson or two…

Just because the marriage didn’t work out didn’t mean we had to throw the foundation away too.

Often people ask me how I’ve done it. Or why. Well, I certainly couldn’t have done it alone. Dennis was just as much a part of our success, as is his wife. Why? Why wouldn’t we? Why wouldn’t you?

Although Dennis and I are a long way from being in love with one another, we remain close. We continue to talk and work through things together, we still make fun of one another and still encourage each other.

And when I see Shane displaying one of his dads many mannerisms, I don’t get annoyed; I actually appreciate it and sometimes take the moment to reflect on just what is so special about us.

You can learn a lot by watching someone with a shopping cart.

There’s no real consequences for not putting your shopping cart away. There’s no reward or even encouragement to return it to its corral. It’s a choice. And that choice speaks volumes about the person making it.

After all, the shopping cart is a perfect example of someone willing to do the right thing when faced with the choice.

You can push the cart out of the way, put it in the next parking space, leave it where it is, and so on. There’s no shopping cart laws or parking lot ticket writers for those that do those things. There’s no jail time or punishment. There’s nothing detrimental that will happen to you if you leave your cart, right? You’re causing an inconvenience to the next person coming along most likely, maybe putting a car at risk of damage for a loose cart rolling…but other than that, what really is going to happen to you? Some people even justify that they are providing job security of the cart collectors (but we know that’s just their justification, as the job is still secure by bringing the carts from the corral to the store front. Anyway…)

The shopping cart is a perfect example of self respect, respect for society, and self governing. There’s no true incentive to return your shopping cart, however, most see it as just the right thing to do. Stores have created mid point drop offs to encourage it, instead of having to return it to the store front. Returning the shopping cart is just the right thing to do. So why do so many struggle with such a seemingly simple task?

How you treat your shopping cart is how you feel about your neighbors. You know your neighbors are frequenting the same store; would you inconvenience them by leaving something of yours in their driveway? Then why not return the shopping cart you just used instead of taking up prime real estate of a parking spot? Do you feel your time is more valuable than another persons? Someone has to deal with your cart eventually. After all, a steel cart on wheels works with momentum, so why risk issuing damage to another persons property? Pushing the cart into a curb and still blocking another space while perhaps causing damage to said cart doesn’t help either. If you’re that committed, why not refocus your energy to good as opposed to evil?

To you it may be just a shopping cart. To me (and many others) it’s a reflection of your character.

Are you doing the right thing even when (you think that) no one is watching?

**Update. two days after writing this blog, my car was hit by a shopping cart causing damage to the side view mirror and drivers side door. Karma? No way. Confirmation. You bet. This could have been totally avoidable if people chose to do the right thing, every time.