Adina 
"I want to motivate YOU!!!"
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Archive for April, 2009
Tuesday, April 21st, 2009
I learned a valuable lesson yesterday afternoon, and I’m going to share it with y’all…
I was running again.
I’m SUPPOSED to be walking, but I felt like running.
OK, I won’t lie. I walked like I’m told to at 4:00AM yesterday morning, but this was 5:00PM.
I’ve got two things coming up.
I’m taking the boys to UFC 98 on May 23 in Las Vegas, and then the very next week I’m going to New York to see all my MD people!
I’ve got to look good, y’all! If that means some extra cardio, well then that just means some extra cardio.
So anyway…it’s East Texas in May. That means it’s hot, y’all. That’s what I’m getting at!
So, I’m in my little white t-shirt and I take off running. I did my usual five miles. Seems to be the magic number for me and jogging.
And everyone I knew in my entire town drove by. I even got a marriage proposal hollered out the window from one guy. I didn’t know him; so I don’t think he’s serious, but I did go register at Target just in case.
I got honked at and waved at more times than I could count! I was laughing by the time I got back to the gym. (Remember that honking part, it’s important for later!)
But again…picture it…
I’m in that white t-shirt, which is by this time clinging to my sweaty body.
I burst open the doors to my gym, as the guys are used to me doing.
I don’t enter the gym, so much as I explode into it.
And I’m trying to peel the wet, clingy shirt back from my body as I blurt out to my friend Martin, “Lord have mercy on my soul, Doc Martin, the honkers are out today!!!”
And I knew it the moment I said it.
And he was about to say something, which I’m sure wasn’t very nice, until I put up my hand in shush-it mode.
“Wait a minute. Let’s start over.”
And I exited the gym.
And then I turned around and came right back in. I had to reenter my code and everything. It was very dramatic.
He’s just standing there, staring at me blankly. (No doubt wanting to call me a moron.)
He’s about to speak and again the shush-it goes up.
“Hey Doc Martin. How are you? I just had a really good run. Lots of friendly people out today!”
I was going to keep going, but he put us his shush-it, shook his head, and grinned as he walked away.
I don’t guess it ever hurts to be reminded to think before you speak.
(But there really were a lot of honkers out yesterday. I promise there were.)
Posted in Other
Monday, April 20th, 2009
Sometimes, Tacky Adina wants to come out and play!
I am good with my words. I can pop off a tacky comment faster than anyone you know.
When I do this at work, I will usually put my hand over my mouth and say, “Oh, I’m sorry. Tacky Adina came to work today.”
But I was blessed growing up in that few people made fun of my size. People were rarely tacky to me. In fact, the comments were so few and far between that I could write them down for you, word for word.
I tended to be kind, so I received kindness in return.
But there was this one girl…
I remember being at a church lock-in. There was a weight room. I ended up in there with three girls who were two grades above me. All three popular, beautiful, and thin.
I don’t even remember what we were doing, but I remember she could barely move 40 pounds on whatever it was.
I stepped up to it and promptly lifted the 40…then 50…then 60. I got it all the way up to 110.
In my excitement I squealed, “Look! I just did 110!!!”
(Excitement about how many pounds I moved in junior high. Let’s call that foreshadowing, shall we?!)
But more than that excitement, I remember the comment one of the girls flung back at me.
“That just means you weigh more than 110 pounds.”
Y’all…
She could have slapped me and I would have hurt less.
I felt that pain like a physical wound, and it stung.
She had everything, and I had nothing.
She was beautiful, and I was the unlovely.
She was thin… and I was fat.
And I carried the weight of that comment with me for years. Even now, if I think of it, tears sting my eyes.
And as chance would have it, I had the opportunity to have my day wit her this weekend.
I rarely login to Facebook. I go there when one of my friends fusses at me about leaving me a message there I never replied to. Yeah, that happened this weekend! Sue me! You’re not going to find me there!
So, I logged in to answer the message…and there was a friend request from someone who looked familiar. I had to read the name to be sure.
It was her… and she weighs more than 110 pounds.
I stared at the screen, tears in my eyes, wanting to comment. Wanting to make her feel the way she made me feel so many years ago.
But I didn’t have to look very far to see why I didn’t need to do that.
I am not that fat little girl. I certainly know what she did not back then, in that on many lifts you can move more than your body weight. Size, especially obesity, is not an indicator of how much you can lift. I lifted 110 on whatever that was, because I was strong. She could not push 40, because she was not.
And then I thought of a message I received Friday night. Just a sweet little “I love you too” message from someone who means more to me than he will ever know. Words that made me have to pull my car over because I could not see from the happy tears welling, brimming, and about to spill!
And what blessing in my life am I willing to give up to make that comment?
You see, making that comment would surely chip a little piece of who I am away. And what if it was the piece of me that he loves? Or my writing? Or the part of me that makes my kids cling to me? (Yeah, they’re mama’s boys!)
So I will add her as a friend later and tell her, “Thanks for the add. You brought back a memory from long ago.”
And in the end bad memories are nothing but opportunities to appreciate just how good we have it. And what she intended for spite, I turned in to joy.
Posted in Other
Friday, April 17th, 2009
As little kids you run.
You run. You sweat. You pant like a dog.
And you don’t even feel like you worked.
But I remember the first time that girl-child running ceased to be enjoyable.
Junior High.
I had ten minutes to circle that track four times.
I was already obese by this point. I was used to it, but this was the first time I would really understand the limitations I had put upon myself.
Me and ten minutes just wasn’t gonna happen.
I didn’t even make it one lap before I stopped.
But do you know why?
It was because the moment I felt pain, I stopped. I didn’t make the mind-muscle connection that a few minutes of pain meant passing that fitness test.
And how would my life have been different if I had learned to push through pain that early on in life?
Ends up, there was no other way to become a runner but to push through that pain. When I finally decided I could do it, I remember wondering which would happen first. Would my lungs collapse or would my aching shins just fall right off the front of my legs
I remember gasping for breath with each and every step.
Blisters.
Sore toes.
Being embarrassed about how I looked while running.
And thinking I would surely die.
But with each of those hurdles I jumped came a reward.
Smaller clothes.
Fitting in booths.
Making it to goal…and making it to joy.
My hot friend Kevin has me walk in the morning on an empty stomach for my cardio now. I even got fussed at one time for having cream in my coffee before I did it!
But yesterday was a beautiful day…and Wendy can back me up on this one.
Some days you just have to run!
I changed clothes at the gym and looked at the people walking on the treadmill with pity.
They don’t know
Cars were driving past me.
People looking.
Some waving. Some honking.
All wondering what I was doing. Why I was jogging with a smile on my face.
They didn’t know. How could they?
I was running. I was sweating. But I wasn’t panting.
The obese girl-child became a woman who can run five miles with nary a pant and hardly a sweat. And that ten minute mile barrier was broken long ago.
Leaving me to run for nothing but the joy of running.
Posted in Other
Thursday, April 16th, 2009
“Mama, did you know chickens can live eight or nine years?”
“No, son, I did not.”
“I think Andrea is a Leghorn and Kevin is a Buff Orbington. Buff means orange.”
“Buff means tan.”
“Oh, it looks orange in the picture.”
“Would Kevin match an orange crayon or a tan one?”
“Tan.”
“Then buff means tan.”
“I get it. Do you know a chicken is REALLY sick if it sneezes?”
“No, son, I did not.”
“And if their poop is all white or all black they’re sick. The poop is supposed to be swirled…”
“I got it son. Swirled poop, good. Solid color poop, bad. Next subject, please.”
“Did you know each chicken should have two square feet of space?”
Yeah, I thought we were going to change the subject, but we didn’t. We talked about chickens the whole ride home from school yesterday. I learned more chicken facts than I ever knew in my whole life in the space of a few minutes yesterday afternoon.
And I’m pretty sure I met my chicken-fact quota for life.
But I’m sure I’ll learn a few more today, because he’s only a little way through the Book O’ Chicken Facts I got him for Easter.
I’m not going to say the Easter Bunny brought it. One, he’s too old for it. Two, I brought this upon myself!!!
But you know what?
Jonah is excited about his new critters.
The kind of excited where you can’t read enough, study-up enough….or, OK…..talk enough about it.
Thing is, he’s not waiting for random chicken information to fall from the sky.
He’s reading. He’s studying. He’s spending time with those things! It’s important to him.
Just three weeks ago he knew nothing about raising chickens. Nothing at all.
But when he returned home from a visit to his cousins with two chickens in a cardboard box, he set out to learn, and learn he did.
Kind of like when I was learning this lifestyle. As an obese woman, I knew absolutely nothing.
And I did not wait for the information to come to me.
I read, I listened, I learned, and I applied.
Yes, it was very scary to embark on something I knew absolutely nothing about.
But if I had waited for information to fall from the sky, I’d still be waiting. Y’all know that.
So…what are you waiting for? You have some research to do!
But on the off change you need to know about chicken poop, look no further. I’ll give a pass on the research because I’m your girl in the know.
Just remember, solid is bad. Swirled is good.
Solid bad. Swirled good.
Bet that’ll cure you from getting the free ice at the end of the meal next time!
Posted in Other
Wednesday, April 15th, 2009
We all have things we are passionate about, and usually these things vary from person to person and friend to friend.
I do have common bonds with my closest friends, but it’s the things they do outside my world that interests me the most.
For instance, my friend Kelly has a lizard with it’s own room. I find that fascinating. I had one is third grade. Poor thing at worms and lived in a box.
My friend Stuart and I love flea markets, but we head in different directions when we arrive at one. We went to one last weekend, both in search of cheap and tacky. But we arrived at it in entirely different ways. (I’m sure I’ll tell you more about that late. Just know that I named to ceramic squirrels Nutsy and Pebbles. Clearly a bargain at only a dollar each.)
But it was a message from a friend that sent me off in search of his passion.
The search led me to the Narcotics Anonymous website in search of information.
My friend had taken a public stance about drinking and what NA say about it. And as someone ten years clean, I knew that he would know.
I remember like it was yesterday the first time he told me about it all. I remember being in awe, asking him how he maintained his sobriety. The answer was as clear as you can get.
“Because I do what they tell me to do.”
Nothing more and certainly nothing less.
And according to the website: “In Narcotics Anonymous, members are encouraged to comply with complete abstinence from all drugs including alcohol. It has been the experience of NA members that complete and continuous abstinence provides the best foundation for recovery and personal growth.”
And then y’all know I perused the entire site while I was there. I wanted to learn more about it, but I also wanted to bring something here.
So here is something else I found: “NA is a nonprofit fellowship or society of men and women for whom drugs had become a major problem. We meet regularly to help each other stay clean. … We are not interested in what or how much you used … but only in what you want to do about your problem and how we can help.”
In the end, we’re really on the same team, because in Adina terms that means: I am not interested in what or how much you ate or what you didn’t do in the gym…buy only in what you want to do about your problem and how can I help you.
And as far as my friend….sometimes what seems so different is really the bond in disguise.
And isn’t that neat!?
Posted in Training
Wednesday, April 15th, 2009
We all have things we are passionate about, and usually these things vary from person to person and friend to friend.
I do have common bonds with my closest friends, but it’s the things they do outside my world that interests me the most.
For instance, my friend Kelly has a lizard with it’s own room. I find that fascinating. I had one is third grade. Poor thing at worms and lived in a box.
My friend Stuart and I love flea markets, but we head in different directions when we arrive at one. We went to one last weekend, both in search of cheap and tacky. But we arrived at it in entirely different ways. (I’m sure I’ll tell you more about that late. Just know that I named to ceramic squirrels Nutsy and Pebbles. Clearly a bargain at only a dollar each.)
But it was a message from a friend that sent me off in search of his passion.
The search led me to the Narcotics Anonymous website in search of information.
My friend had taken a public stance about drinking and what NA say about it. And as someone ten years clean, I knew that he would know.
I remember like it was yesterday the first time he told me about it all. I remember being in awe, asking him how he maintained his sobriety. The answer was as clear as you can get.
“Because I do what they tell me to do.”
Nothing more and certainly nothing less.
And according to the website: “In Narcotics Anonymous, members are encouraged to comply with complete abstinence from all drugs including alcohol. It has been the experience of NA members that complete and continuous abstinence provides the best foundation for recovery and personal growth.”
And then y’all know I perused the entire site while I was there. I wanted to learn more about it, but I also wanted to bring something here.
So here is something else I found: “NA is a nonprofit fellowship or society of men and women for whom drugs had become a major problem. We meet regularly to help each other stay clean. … We are not interested in what or how much you used … but only in what you want to do about your problem and how we can help.”
In the end, we’re really on the same team, because in Adina terms that means: I am not interested in what or how much you ate or what you didn’t do in the gym…buy only in what you want to do about your problem and how can I help you.
And as far as my friend….sometimes what seems so different is really the bond in disguise.
And isn’t that neat!?
Posted in Training
Wednesday, April 15th, 2009
We all have things we are passionate about, and usually these things vary from person to person and friend to friend.
I do have common bonds with my closest friends, but it’s the things they do outside my world that interests me the most.
For instance, my friend Kelly has a lizard with it’s own room. I find that fascinating. I had one is third grade. Poor thing at worms and lived in a box.
My friend Stuart and I love flea markets, but we head in different directions when we arrive at one. We went to one last weekend, both in search of cheap and tacky. But we arrived at it in entirely different ways. (I’m sure I’ll tell you more about that late. Just know that I named to ceramic squirrels Nutsy and Pebbles. Clearly a bargain at only a dollar each.)
But it was a message from a friend that sent me off in search of his passion.
The search led me to the Narcotics Anonymous website in search of information.
My friend had taken a public stance about drinking and what NA say about it. And as someone ten years clean, I knew that he would know.
I remember like it was yesterday the first time he told me about it all. I remember being in awe, asking him how he maintained his sobriety. The answer was as clear as you can get.
“Because I do what they tell me to do.”
Nothing more and certainly nothing less.
And according to the website: “In Narcotics Anonymous, members are encouraged to comply with complete abstinence from all drugs including alcohol. It has been the experience of NA members that complete and continuous abstinence provides the best foundation for recovery and personal growth.”
And then y’all know I perused the entire site while I was there. I wanted to learn more about it, but I also wanted to bring something here.
So here is something else I found: “NA is a nonprofit fellowship or society of men and women for whom drugs had become a major problem. We meet regularly to help each other stay clean. … We are not interested in what or how much you used … but only in what you want to do about your problem and how we can help.”
In the end, we’re really on the same team, because in Adina terms that means: I am not interested in what or how much you ate or what you didn’t do in the gym…buy only in what you want to do about your problem and how can I help you.
And as far as my friend….sometimes what seems so different is really the bond in disguise.
And isn’t that neat!?
Posted in Training
Tuesday, April 14th, 2009
OK….I posted the wrong blog this morning!!! I had written that for FitnessRX last month. I give weight loss instruction in that one.
Someone on another site had mentioned being afraid of success. I remembered I had written about that on FitnessRX, so I found it for her. And…well…looks like I accidently put that in place of my blog this morning.
For those of you who read it and felt crazy, because I didn’t leave you with anything on Friday….BITE ME! I can’t be prefect ALL the time!!!!
So…here is the real blog for today!
I’m rarely at a loss for words.
People ask me where my ideas come from all the time. This is usually followed with, “Aren’t you afraid you’re going to run out of ideas?”
I always laugh at this one.
I am one big, walking Blog, y’all! It’s OK to say big here, but that’s the only place you’ll get away with it.
Do you hear me?!
But I stared at a blank computer screen last night.
The words were not coming, because I was thinking about other words.
Words that had upset someone I love. Someone so very dear to me.
Then Jonah came to look over my shoulder saying, “Mama, can I read what you wrote?”
“Yes, son. You always can, but right now my words are stuck.”
“OK. I’ll be back when you’re through.”
“OK, son. I love you.”
He came back a few minutes later. “Your words still stuck?”
“Yep.”
“OK. I’ll be back.”
“OK. I still love you. Even when you nag me.”
“Whatever!”
Then I remembered that someone asked me the other day where my motivation came from. In a world where 90% of the females who lose weight gain it back, the longer I keep it off, the more of an anomaly I become.
And the more people want to know what I have found.
You want to know what the secret is?
You don’t have to be motivated or inspired.
I was not particularly inspired yesterday, simply because my friend was on my mind.
But I still went to the gym at noon and worked my shoulders. They had no clue I was not inspired.
And I went back after work and got in an hour of cardio. As luck would have it, uninspired cardio still burns calories.
I ate on track. Eating junk wasn’t going to make my day better. It wasn’t going to give me a clearer vision of anything.
I laid out my gym clothes and packed my healthy foods for the next day right before bed, as I always do.
So that’s the secret. You learn to make exercise and eating clean an extension of who you are. On a some small level, you could even say it defines me.
In the dictionary, if you look up “Adina” the picture next to my name would show a little purple cooler and a gym bag!
And whether this day comes with inspiration or not, you will still find me at the gym, eating clean, and writing these words!
And at the end of the day, I’m still in that ten percent…inspired or not!
Posted in Other
Tuesday, April 14th, 2009
I left you with one question on Friday.
Remember?
What are you afraid of?
For me the answer was simple.
I was afraid of success.
Some have fear of failure, I had fear of success.
You see, I attributed every bad thing going on in my life to my size.
No date? It’s my size.
Money running low? Must have spent too much on eating out.
Not happy with my looks? Size.
Even down to my dad leaving when I was a kid, I blamed every problem in my life on my size.
So, it stood to reason that getting my size in control meant getting everything in control.
Right?
But what was I really afraid of?
I was afraid that I would get the weight off and be forced to realize that every problem in my life did not have its root in my scale.
In other words, I would be forced to, dare I say it? DEAL.
You’ve seen the pictures.
I lost.
But what did I find out about those problems?
Posted in Other
Monday, April 13th, 2009
I was thinking about something this weekend. Something I haven’t thought of in a while: what to do when people try to get in the way of your exercise time.
That used to be such a struggle. Used to be.
Now it’s such a distant memory that I had to drum it up and remember the struggle it once was.
I would be dressed in gym clothes, about to walk out the door and a call or a visitor would come out of nowhere. Oblivious to what I was about to do.
But I also remember trying to hide the fact that I was on a diet. I didn’t want people around me to think, “There she goes again. I wonder how long she will last this time?”
And you know some of you have done this too!
I was probably two months into my diet before I admitted it to anyone.
Why is that?
Because I had started, tried, and failed so many times. I didn’t want to have to justify what I was doing or why I was eating the way that I did.
I wanted to prove to myself that I could do it before I let anyone in.
And like it or not, I had to prove myself to the ones around me.
I had spent the better part of two decades not just using, but using and enjoying, every excuse I could find to keep me out of the gym.
I could be dressed in full gym regalia and asked to go pick up Cheetos and I’d do it.
I’d take any five minute task and turn it into a reason not to run.
If I had to go somewhere at 7:00 Saturday evening, I would use that as my excuse to not go to the gym all day long.
And if a friend called me to go do something, I could be still in my jammies at noon, and I’d answer with, “Well, I WAS going to go to the gym, but just this once I’ll skip it.”
I weighed 256 pounds and I allowed the phrase, “just this once I’ll skip it,” to come out of my mouth! I should be ashamed.
And I paid the price for those words I used so freely.
For years I had said that phrase to my friends.
And how were they to know different this time? How could they possibly know that I really was trying to better myself and get to the gym every time I could?
How could they understand overnight that I really was going to go to the gym before we went out, before we went shopping, or even in place of what we might do?
So yes, like it or not, I had to buy back my own time. I had to earn the phrase, “I can’t. I’m going to the gym.”
And I had to understand that my sudden change in habits irritated people.
I was the one who changed.
But when someone asked me this week how I dealt with it, I was able to answer, “I don’t.”
You see, I stuck with it long enough.
The people who used to say, “Skip the gym and let’s go eat,” now say, “What time are you going to be through at the gym? I really want to go out.”
And I emerged victorious.
So, say it.
Say it.
And then say it again, if you have to.
“I can’t. I’m going to the gym.”
Posted in Other
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