MILF HUNTRESS

I have insomnia.  Great time to have the internet.  Decided it was time to purge some posts just to get rid of the clutter.  Deleted a few pictures too.  Out with the old, in with the new.

Now that I have been declared winner of the body transformation contest I feel that I can move ahead.  I have been mentally stuck for awhile.

It is 2 AM, but off the corner of my head here are some of my ideas for goals for my near future.

1.  get my teeth fixed

2.  get my thigh lift

3.  take yoga or belly dancing or otherwise get in touch with my body through more sensual movements

4.  love myself more, put it in action daily

5.  accept others more, encourage others with their goals, whatever those may be

6.  be a better mom…spend more time doing fun activities with the kids….enjoying their company.

7.  take a family vacation

8.  take a Maddi vacation

9.  keep up with my 6 day per week workouts and 3x weekly double workouts

10.  eat cleaner

11.  run a minimum of 2 miles daily, 5 days per week

12. look for a fall contest, & compete in a contest that reflects my personal goals

MAY IT ALL BE ACCOMPLISHED IN 2008.

Most of the women who do well or go very far in this industry have a strong athletic background.  I admit to becoming more than a little discouraged when I read the bios of all my favorite fitness and figure competitors.  Most of them lived a life being athletic from a very early age.  They had parents that took them from gym class to dance class to soccer practice.

Me?  I was a girl of the streets.  I rode my bike after school and sometimes had water fights with my friends or played tag after school.  This was about athletic as it got.

Last picked for gym class?  Oh yes, I know that story.  I took gymnastics when I was 12 for a month, purely to learn how to do a cartwheel.  We were doing them in P.E. class, and I didn’t want to embarass myself.

I took track when I was a freshman.  Never met the coach, never had one instructive meeting.  My track experience consisted of running hallways with my girlfriend for a month, proudly sporting my new track jersey.  When it came time for the first meet, I dropped out.  I was given a paper with numbers on it that I would be running, never being told even what the numbers meant.  Still not knowing the coach’s face from a gym locker.

So I took to doing what I did best.  Playing my way through school.  Hanging out with the tough kids and the party girls.  Skipping classes every opportunity I could, and doing just enough work not to fail.  Luckily, I was smart.  I found that if I aced the tests I could get by without doing a lick of homework.

I was one of the lost kids.  Being raised by a single mom with a bit of an alcohol problem and a troubled past.

I see these kids every day come into my library.  I have kids that hang out in an empty library till 8 PM even when the computers are closed down, because there is noone to go home to. 

I see nice kids, polite kids, hurt kids, sad kids, lonely kids, bright kids, mean kids too.  All basically good kids, only some more troubled than others.

I have one boy in particular who is headed down a bad road.  I had to kick him out of the library one day for fighting in our parking lot.  He clobbered a kid twice his size and made him cry. 

I’ve seen this boy’s family. I’ve met this boy’s father. I know this boy has a rough story and is a scrapper for a reason.

This boy is either going to end up in jail, or something more positive is going to happen.  Someone is going to believe in him, and without any ulterior or evil motive of their own, they are going to help this boy find his way.

I look in this boy’s eyes and I see STRENGTH.  I peer into this boy’s soul and I see TOUGHNESS.

This boy could end up a thug,…or with the proper intervention, this boy could end up a CHAMPION.

A ball is going to keep heading a certain way, unless it hits up against something that changes it’s direction.

Believers in Christ are called to love the unlovable, to touch the untouchable.

Christ hung with the prostitutes, the lepers, the tax collectors, the disenfranchised.

I guarantee you today that if Christ were walking the earth in the flesh, (which he is…it is you), he would not be sitting comfortably in a church pew somewhere feeling better than others on a Sunday like today.

He would be out there walking the streets with the lost boys.  He would be out there walking the street with my friend Leonard.

Ran tonight on a belly full of egg foo young.  It was more like a ten minute jog.  Then I beat on the bag for a bit before the lights turned off.

I figure my PM workouts are more of a friendly reminder. 

Get the heart rate up, get the circulation flowing, burn off a few of the extra calories that I like to take into me.

On nights I have more to give, I give more. 

On nights that I don’t, I don’t.  I just show up, and that is 3/4 the battle.

About overtraining.  I talked to one of my daughter’s girlfriends, who is a gymnast. 

"How many hours a day do you train?  Like 3?"

"No.  Usually 5."

"Are you sitting around much or are you mostly training?"

"Oh…we’re training the whole time."

"Do they ever talk to you about overtraining?"

"No."

This is my philosophy, and the athletic creed/motto at my daughters’ high school. 

“YOGOWYPI”

“You only get out what you put into it.”

I kept this creed in mind the whole time of my contest. 

It was my mantra after 20 minutes of weighted vest running, when I still had 10 more minutes left to give.

It’s right.  And…it worked.

Gymnasts and professional athletes have the best bodies for a reason. 

It is because they spend the majority of their time…doing athletic things….with their bodies.

Not 30 minutes here, 30 minutes there.

It’s a lifestyle.  It is all in their day’s work.

Think of the slaves of days fortunately long past.  They had the thickest, most massively built, bodies ever.  This was not from putting in 30 minutes daily.

Gymnast and athletic overtraining and injuries happen.  But this is because there is such high pressure to perform.

I listen to my body.  When my throat starts to ache, that is my first sign that I need to pull back just a little bit.  Take it a little lighter on the cardio.  Maybe take a day of rest. 

If something is stiff, I work through it.

If you become very sensitive to your body’s signals, you will know what to do and when to do it.

In a nutshell, here is my training philosophy.  More is more.

If you want the body of an athlete, then you had better train like an athlete.

You are only going to get out…what you put into it.

Well I sure am disappointed.  I had a great workout.  Went for a splendiferous salad.  Came home and found my 8 year old’s bikini top.  “Let’s give it a try,” I said to myself.  Slipped it on, and what do you know.  It fits like a glove.  And looks rather cute too.

Went for the camera as I haven’t taken a pic since the end of the contest, and it is nowhere to be found.

What’s a hot bod to do?

I am over my chocolate fixation.  See.  I have pretty much been rewarding myself by going to get a dark chocolate bar as soon as I leave my workouts daily.  If there is any time you can get away with this sort of thing, it is after grueling away at the gym for 2 hours.

Today I realized, I COULD get a chocolate bar,…but what I really wanted was a nice healthy salad chalk full of vegetables.  A little cottage cheese, a lotta egg, a fine sprinking of seeds.

While I was finishing up with a jog today, I caught a glimpse of today’s Montel Williams show.  There was a woman who has lost 150 lbs.  She came out still looking fat and sassy but she felt like a princess.

Women who have lost an extreme amount of weight I have found to be an entirely different species of animal.

Our self confidence is high…bordering on extreme and ridiculous,…we feel good about ourselves, accept our flaws, and intend to live life LARGE…though in a different way than before.

And it does seem to me that we are ever so slightly crazy.  Not dangerous crazy, just FUN crazy.  There is an important difference.

Experiencing obesity is a near death experience.  Once you awaken, you want to live like never before.

I am finding that I can maintain my weight comfortably with a little sporadic cheating and 3 extra PM workouts per week.

I’ve achieved a nice little balance for the time being, until I find my next goal.

Also…exciting news!  I believe that jump roping in my weighted vest is actually bringing on some hamstring development.  Reaching down today while stretching up against the wall, I felt meat that I have never felt before.  It felt solid and good.

Every morning lately I wake up to the sounds of bird paradise.  So much life in the world.  I love the sounds of nature.

So I’ve been playing the fallen lady in my community for awhile now.  It has been a fabulous spiritual exercise.  What gets torn down, gets built up again, but stronger.

Like any good scarlet woman, I’ve learned to walk a little prouder, carry my head a little higher.  Yes, adversity builds strength.  But we all do need a rest from time to time.  We need that rest to rebuild.

Here’s the deal. 

You can love me or hate me.  

But if you persist in reading my blog,… I know that you are thinking about me. 

Tonight I ate the cookie. 

It felt good to eat the cookie.  Not because the cookie was so very good…though it was good enough. 

But because by eating the cookie I was the same, not different.

The hardest part of competition style dieting?

Standing apart from the crowd. 

Being set apart.  Being different.  It can be a strength, and it can be a weakness. 

So I ate the cookie. 

Then I ran.

I lunged, I skipped, I pressed. 

I climbed stairs. 

I ran again.

Not because I had to. 

Because I chose to.

In the end,

I am still the same.

I am the same. 

Yet different.

My husband’s love is my strength.  Having a girlie moment tonight, I once again asked, as if I had forgotten,…"What is it that you love about me?"  "Well it ain’t your cooking or your cleaning."  "Well tell me what it is then," I begged.  "I don’t want to get into all of that right now." He frowned.  As though I were asking for help with trigonometry homework.  I pouted a bit and left it alone.  4 hours later, climbing into bed beside me, my husband sighed as he bent down to kiss me goodnight.  "I love you because you are you, he said.  "I love you because you are my Maddi."

A friend at the gym came in today.   A friend is one who tells truth and has your best interests at heart.  So, no.  An acquaintance came into the gym today.  We’ve had fun talking in the past, flexxing in the mirror.  I asked a couple of times if him and his girlfriend would like to go on a double date.  While there didn’t seem to be much interest in that, he did like to send a couple pics of his physique to my email account.  All in good fun I told myself.  I began teasing my husband.  "Howie says Hi" I would say, when Howie wasn’t even there.  "Howie is spotting me on the bench press, helping me to get a new max."  That sort of nonsense.  So today me and my girlfriend are riding side by side on recumbant bikes, and there is Howie.  We’re talking, laughing. We’re talking a little innocent sex talk which is fine with me, being the interesting subject matter that it is.  This is the sort of thing you talk about with friends. The subject comes up about what people think, what people say.  "I dont care what people think," says Howie.  I figure this is my entry to what has been non said for long enough and far too long.  "Yeah, I don’t either," I said.  That’s why I made all that stuff up and put it on my blog when I figured out Adam was reading it long ago.  I would walk into the gym and Adam would act like "In walks the super slut."  And here I am a married woman of 18 years, with 3 kids, who has just lost 100 pounds, and is trying to forge, redefine, and come to terms with her newfound sexual identity.  I made up my mind long ago.  "So you SEE that I am super slut?  Well let me just show you how super slut I can be."  Howie suddenly changed his tone.  I sensed anger.  He was let down.  I could read his mind.  "You mean you’re not a slut?  That’s false advertising!  Why am I wasting my time talking to this girl?!"  The energy was suddenly changed.  "See that’s wrong.  I don’t agree with that, he said uncomfortably.  "I have kids in this community.  I would worry about the effect it would have on them," he said, suddenly caring for a change.  "Oh I told my kids all about it, I told him.  I told them, "Mommy’s making stuff up on the internet, and if anybody comes up to you at school and says anything you will know why."  "Pshaw. they would say.  Mom nobody knows.  Nobody cares.  Mom,…nobody reads your blog."

"The teachers of the law and the Pharisees sit in Moses’ seat. So you must obey them and do everything they tell you. But do not do what they do, for they do not practice what they preach. They tie up heavy loads and put them on men’s shoulders, but they themselves are not willing to lift a finger to move them."Everything they do is done for men to see: They make their phylacteries wide and the tassels on their garments long; they love the place of honor at banquets and the most important seats in the synagogues; they love to be greeted in the marketplaces and to have men call them ‘Rabbi.’

"But you are not to be called ‘Rabbi,’ for you have only one Master and you are all brothers. And do not call anyone on earth ‘father,’ for you have one Father, and he is in heaven. Nor are you to be called ‘teacher,’ for you have one Teacher, the Christ. The greatest among you will be your servant. For whoever exalts himself will be humbled, and whoever humbles himself will be exalted.

"Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites! You shut the kingdom of heaven in men’s faces. You yourselves do not enter, nor will you let those enter who are trying to.

"Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites! You travel over land and sea to win a single convert, and when he becomes one, you make him twice as much a son of hell as you are.

"Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites! You give a tenth of your spices—mint, dill and cummin. But you have neglected the more important matters of the law—justice, mercy and faithfulness. You should have practiced the latter, without neglecting the former. You blind guides! You strain out a gnat but swallow a camel.

"Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites! You clean the outside of the cup and dish, but inside they are full of greed and self-indulgence. Blind Pharisee! First clean the inside of the cup and dish, and then the outside also will be clean.

 "Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites! You are like whitewashed tombs, which look beautiful on the outside but on the inside are full of dead men’s bones and everything unclean. In the same way, on the outside you appear to people as righteous but on the inside you are full of hypocrisy and wickedness.

                      
                        -Jesus

Wooh!  But I do know how to push myself!  Where did I get this?  I don’t know!  I’m just glad it’s there! 

Had another "I don’t want to workout today moment".  This time I didn’t even make it to the gym parking lot.  Dropped the girls off at school and headed my 12 miles home.  Fooled around a bit.  Ate a nice shrimp and veggie stir fry.  Cooked it with a little bit a peanut butter, lots of garlic, red pepper, and some soy sauce.  Got my stuff together and headed out after all.

Good leg workout.  15 minutes jog.  A gazillion sets of jump rope in between a bazillion sets of other good stuff. 

Sweaty, stinky, pissing my pants good times. 

Ended it all with another 10 minute jog.

Skedaddle.

Went to the gym tonight and got my workout in.  My workouts are the structure, the very backbone to my life.  Without them I would be a spineless jellyfish. 

Wow, but I had zero energy.  Should have probably taken the complete day off, but with the amount of calories I’ve been taking in lately,…nuh-uh.

Last night had a funny moment at work.  Ok.  I had a 10 day binge.  I put on a few.  lol  But the same females who have been declaring me "skinny bitch" etc, lol, were having this big crisis over our summer program reading t-shirts.  Seems somehow a medium got ordered.  So my boss says, (as I am obviously the smallest)…"the medium is yours".  But the other gal is making a big deal about how the medium is too small and noone is going to be able to fit the medium….she is going to have to send it back.  I’m thinking, "really???"  I mean, I wear my daughter’s size smalls….not that I need to, or have any real business doing so, lol, and yet…the darned things fit.

So I have gone from "skinny bitch" to "just one of the girls".  lol  Now that I am on the other side, I think I want to fight my way back to "skinny bitch".

Oh………so tonight was biceps.  My routine is stale.  I hate to say it, because saying it just makes it more real………but I am a little burned out!  Not that I am going to let that get in my way, but there it is!

Only 20 minutes cardio tonight, but half of that was wearing my "crazy vest"…which I think counts for double.

I am so tired of waiting for the results of the contest to be announced.  I know Bb.com has other things going on.  The big expo and all.  I keep trying to be professional, but darn it, I’m just a girl in the world.

In my heart I know I am the winner, but I keep waiting for it to be made official. 

As much as I have changed, as much as I have grown, (and shrunk) the past 3 & 1/2 years, the more I realize, I still have so much yet to learn.

This is what EXCITES me the most about bodybuilding.  It is like a secret society.  A free-masonry if you will.  There are so many layers and levels.  And I know, that as far as I have come, I am still at the bottom rung.

This just gives me so much more to reach for.

Looking down at "the bod" tonight in a nice hot bath…I realized how far I still have to go. 

Where those legs are small and smooth in the front, I want to see some quads jumping.  Where those legs are flat and shapeless in the back,…I want to see some hams leaping!

My body today is a rough, blank canvas of where I am going to take it in the next 10 years.

It’s time to paint a pretty picture.