It has been an intense month or so since I last blogged...and published it. I lost someone who I loved and admired. I had, since I was a child, felt a part of his family as I grew up with his kids. I'd spent holidays laughing with him and his family, weddings, babies and everyday happenings filled the years...and then suddenly he was gone. It was crushing for me, but down right demolishing for my pseudo siblings. The experience was very difficult to say the least. I will spare you a long drawn out explanation of the weeks that have passed and get into the present and the reason you actually read this thing (thank you so much for doing so)...FUELING!
During hard times, working out seems like a complete joke. Yet, with time and distance, the distraction and exertion becomes welcome. Even for a self proclaimed lazy person such as myself, a workout of some sort needed to happen.
OK, let's clarify, obviously I never stopped "Fueling" because...we own a winery for one, wine is mourning's best friend, and lastly...my body might shut down if I did something so rash as to stop drinking.
Now back to my story. A few short runs in, I decided I might be part sloth. My running just gets slower each time I return to it! Since I am easily discouraged, and with my hormones raging (because it seems I am also going through very early menopause...or hell, I can't tell which) I decided a softer approach was needed. Yoga, yes yoga is going to be better.
Some of you may remember a somewhat recent blog about my experience with stinky yoga, so let me explain to you guys...I am SO lazy that returning to the packed room full of smelly people seemed like more of a possibility than running. See? Part sloth.
When you are unmotivated, depressed and have hormones raging, it is no surprise that your clothes may start shrinking on you. My workout clothes seem to have decided that they belong to my child because they gripped my fat in ways most unpleasant. As I wiggled into various yoga contortions, the said clothing rolled into rubber bands of pain. Various parts of my body became sausaged into bulging sections with each new position. I tried to quietly tug at the various scraps of cloth, hoping they would stretch to encompass the embarrassing naked skin now revealed to the world, but the more I tugged, the more I brought attention to myself and distracted the very serious yogis around me.
To add insult to injury (literally), the old lady in-front of me started farting. Not once, but every few minutes she just let it rip. I'm sure you are thinking to yourself that I should have simply moved my mat out of the current of her ass, but these classes are literally packed with extreme garlic eaters and do gooders so my only option would have been going to the front and center of the room...in my new rubber band fat revealing fun suit. I decided face full of fart was better than THAT misery.
All I can say is that that one hour yoga glass deserved a full dose of Fueling.
-Cheers from the Vivác Winery Family!
www.VivacWinery.com
Running on Wine; from Marathons to Rafting to "Fueling" on the Patio, We are Fueled by Vivác.
Tuesday, February 23, 2016
Tuesday, January 12, 2016
Mind Over...Junk Food
You all thought I'd disappeared didn't you? Surprisingly I am still here and have actually started my mandated "5 Day Fitness" week...or whatever G.I.Jane is calling it. Last week was the warm up and I actually tried to eat right and workout regularly. Yes, all the football watching over the weekend resulted in tatter tots and sausage cheese balls, but instead of eating an unlimted number, I actually counted out a portion and stuck to that. You have no idea how hard that was. I also went skiing a couple days in a row in deep powder. I decided that was enough to reward myself with time on the sofa...nursing the muscles I have discovered in my butt from skiing. I mean really? I'm sore THERE?
Yesterday was Day 1 of the real deal. Maybe it was knowing that the time was here to buckle down that sent me off the edge. Like a little girl I melted into a temper-tantrum over going to the gym. The bitter cold of the day had me daydreaming of excessive carbs and a warm blanket. Green chile cheese burgers, donuts and a beer. I don't eat wheat so you can see how these items are a sign of complete psychosis. It was an incredibly tough day.
But, I did it. I ran on the treadmill AND did the crossfit inspired exercises prescribed. I went to work at my favorite cafe and I skipped over the gluten free quinoa cookies I love (no really they are amazing!) and opted for the quinoa salad instead. At dinner I skipped the cheddar cheese I love and had a healthy version of chicken tacos (thank God for salsa). By 10:04pm I was STARVING, but sent myself to bed. It was difficult, but doable.
Day 2 is underway, my workout is looming and I am dreading it, but I actually was excited about my tuna salad creation at lunch. Surely this means I'm moving in the right direction right?
Either that, or the fantasy that I get to eat that green chile cheese burger at the end of these 5 days is my secret motivation.
-Cheers from the Vivác Winery Family!
Yesterday was Day 1 of the real deal. Maybe it was knowing that the time was here to buckle down that sent me off the edge. Like a little girl I melted into a temper-tantrum over going to the gym. The bitter cold of the day had me daydreaming of excessive carbs and a warm blanket. Green chile cheese burgers, donuts and a beer. I don't eat wheat so you can see how these items are a sign of complete psychosis. It was an incredibly tough day.
But, I did it. I ran on the treadmill AND did the crossfit inspired exercises prescribed. I went to work at my favorite cafe and I skipped over the gluten free quinoa cookies I love (no really they are amazing!) and opted for the quinoa salad instead. At dinner I skipped the cheddar cheese I love and had a healthy version of chicken tacos (thank God for salsa). By 10:04pm I was STARVING, but sent myself to bed. It was difficult, but doable.
Day 2 is underway, my workout is looming and I am dreading it, but I actually was excited about my tuna salad creation at lunch. Surely this means I'm moving in the right direction right?
Either that, or the fantasy that I get to eat that green chile cheese burger at the end of these 5 days is my secret motivation.
-Cheers from the Vivác Winery Family!
Thursday, January 7, 2016
Knowing When to Ask For Help
I've decided that since I have zero motivation and even less willpower, I need professional help. I decided to call in the big guns, my friend Bridget who says her profession is as a personal trainer/ nutritionist, but I am pretty sure she is actually G.I. Jane.
Immediately my friend jumped into action and sent me a daily workout detail and meal plans. She had to send it to me because she lives a safe distance away (6 hours) in Las Cruces, New Mexico. This woman's body is waaaaayyyy too intimidating to have her train me in person. My cellulite would cry and tremble with despair simply having her in the same room.
I have to admit, I am a wee bit scared...but as you all know from reading this blog over the years, I only seem to accomplish my goals when I am fearing for my life. So, I have been working out (I'm in prep for the scary week next week) and I actually ate tuna fish seasoned with jalapeno, lime juice and pepper, with a side of cucumber slices and carrots. This may sound normal to some of you, but for those that know me well, they will be shocked by this information. The only thing I hate more than tuna fish, is vegetables. Shhhhh... don't tell my son, because I make him eat vegetables. I don't make him eat tuna fish because he literally throws up when he tastes the texture of meat and fish... and I have to clean that up. I should mention that I might, however, actually have a serious allergy to working out, we are looking into it. I feel like I may need extra wine to choke this all down. Oh yes, she is letting me keep my wine. She might be scary in shape, but I am a monster if someone tries to step between me and my wine (imagine the mom saving her baby by lifting the car...only that would be me getting to my wine).
So there you have it, G.I. Jane and I are going to tackle this project and separate my butt from my thighs.
-Cheers from the Vivác Winery Family!
www.VivacWinery.com
Immediately my friend jumped into action and sent me a daily workout detail and meal plans. She had to send it to me because she lives a safe distance away (6 hours) in Las Cruces, New Mexico. This woman's body is waaaaayyyy too intimidating to have her train me in person. My cellulite would cry and tremble with despair simply having her in the same room.
I have to admit, I am a wee bit scared...but as you all know from reading this blog over the years, I only seem to accomplish my goals when I am fearing for my life. So, I have been working out (I'm in prep for the scary week next week) and I actually ate tuna fish seasoned with jalapeno, lime juice and pepper, with a side of cucumber slices and carrots. This may sound normal to some of you, but for those that know me well, they will be shocked by this information. The only thing I hate more than tuna fish, is vegetables. Shhhhh... don't tell my son, because I make him eat vegetables. I don't make him eat tuna fish because he literally throws up when he tastes the texture of meat and fish... and I have to clean that up. I should mention that I might, however, actually have a serious allergy to working out, we are looking into it. I feel like I may need extra wine to choke this all down. Oh yes, she is letting me keep my wine. She might be scary in shape, but I am a monster if someone tries to step between me and my wine (imagine the mom saving her baby by lifting the car...only that would be me getting to my wine).
So there you have it, G.I. Jane and I are going to tackle this project and separate my butt from my thighs.
-Cheers from the Vivác Winery Family!
www.VivacWinery.com
Monday, January 4, 2016
New Year, New You...or Maybe Not
New Year's Eve...some people's heaven, other people's hell.
Are you one of those people that on New Year's Eve writes a list of all the things you will change in your life with the new year? Did you formulate strategies on how to accomplish all your new goals? Did you promise to start 2016 with working out, eating right and saving the planet?
I sure as hell didn't. I drank a ridiculous amount of wine, ate a big plate of birthday brownies in honor of the birthday girl who couldn't make it to her own party and lied about resolutions. I said I'd make changes, but clearly my flabby, lazy butt likes the sofa better than that horrific word "exercise".
When New Year's Day was rang in, the party was at a glorious roar, clearly the time for outrageous statements that include words like "Marathon" or "weight loss" and glorified ideas of the future (meaning you think you will suddenly have willpower and motivation simply because the date changed). By the time the day was more in focus, I had a glaring headache and the call of the great outdoors was more like a horror movie scream. There was no way I was leaving the comfort of the cabin in which we were cuddled up in. And in fact a mimosa would be mandatory. And what of those glorified statements about running and getting fit? Well, they would have to wait till Sunday. Sunday is such a good day to start new things isn't it? It sets the tone for the entire week and sets you right. Yes, Sunday would be the 1st day of the new me of 2016!
You know what sucks about Sundays? It is the end of the vacation, it is the signal that the work week looms. It is NOT a day for exercise. In fact if you are a football fan, it is distinctly meant for Bloody Mary's and hot wings. And I am a football fan.
Mondays are busy with back to work routines and Tuesdays just suck so WEDNESDAY it is. Wednesday is the start of the new me in 2016 and it will be epic!
Now to find a glass of wine in order to cheers myself on how awesome I will be starting Wednesday.
-Cheers from the Vivác Winery Family!
www.VivacWinery.com
Are you one of those people that on New Year's Eve writes a list of all the things you will change in your life with the new year? Did you formulate strategies on how to accomplish all your new goals? Did you promise to start 2016 with working out, eating right and saving the planet?
I sure as hell didn't. I drank a ridiculous amount of wine, ate a big plate of birthday brownies in honor of the birthday girl who couldn't make it to her own party and lied about resolutions. I said I'd make changes, but clearly my flabby, lazy butt likes the sofa better than that horrific word "exercise".
When New Year's Day was rang in, the party was at a glorious roar, clearly the time for outrageous statements that include words like "Marathon" or "weight loss" and glorified ideas of the future (meaning you think you will suddenly have willpower and motivation simply because the date changed). By the time the day was more in focus, I had a glaring headache and the call of the great outdoors was more like a horror movie scream. There was no way I was leaving the comfort of the cabin in which we were cuddled up in. And in fact a mimosa would be mandatory. And what of those glorified statements about running and getting fit? Well, they would have to wait till Sunday. Sunday is such a good day to start new things isn't it? It sets the tone for the entire week and sets you right. Yes, Sunday would be the 1st day of the new me of 2016!
You know what sucks about Sundays? It is the end of the vacation, it is the signal that the work week looms. It is NOT a day for exercise. In fact if you are a football fan, it is distinctly meant for Bloody Mary's and hot wings. And I am a football fan.
Mondays are busy with back to work routines and Tuesdays just suck so WEDNESDAY it is. Wednesday is the start of the new me in 2016 and it will be epic!
Now to find a glass of wine in order to cheers myself on how awesome I will be starting Wednesday.
-Cheers from the Vivác Winery Family!
www.VivacWinery.com
Wednesday, December 9, 2015
Hating the Hate
What is the story that is ruining your life? What is the story that you believe so deeply, you see it as truth?
Often it is painful and difficult to look at these stories and question them, as if they are a childhood blanket that you need to insulate you from the world. Only the funny thing is, it is your story that is keeping you from experiencing the joys of the world.
My story (one of the many) is that my body should be better than it is. When I was younger, I scrutinized over every bump, lump and imperfection. Now approaching 40, I would give anything for those imperfections. I struggle to find the beauty in my aging body. I recently found myself saying to a friend that my body was better post baby than it is now. But 'post baby' was almost 10 years ago! Shouldn't I be able to see the progression as natural without wanting to change it? Shouldn't I be able to look in the mirror without uttering moans of disgust?
I have to take a moment to complain, because...that is what I do well. I realize that I am more fit than some and thinner than some, but regardless of your size or health, we can all agree that there is always something you tweak over right? Mine is my butt and upper thighs. I hated my lack of butt when I was younger, but the fact that what little I had has slid down into the cellulite on the back of my thighs, I down right loath it. When I get out of the shower and glimpse the horror of my backside, I morph into a replica of Edvard Munch's painting "The Scream".
So, if we examine this story I have and ask if it true, my answer is "uhhhh...yes! You should workout more and eat better so your butt finds its proper placement!" but this isn't helpful. And when I really take a deep breath and look at this story, I know that being incredibly hard on myself for the way my body looks is ridiculous. I see the older women at the gym walk around completely naked and secure in their bodies. Their skin sags and their lumps roll and their imperfections fade away. When I see these confidant women, I don't see flaws, I see beauty. Each body is unique and tells a story of their lives, the children they have had, the hardships and the struggles as scars caress their curves. And as I rethink my thinking, I see that my insecurities around how my body looks, actually makes me behave in a shielded, unconfident way that ironically, is what is ugly.
Maybe what the truth is, is actually the opposite of our stories. Maybe the pain we cause ourselves is literally all in our heads. Maybe detaching from the story we believe so deeply can give us exquisite freedom to really live, really feel, really enjoy the world around us.
I am trying to workout more. I am trying to eat healthy (sometimes, but hey sometimes is better than never). But the BIG thing I am going to do, is stop believing in the story that my body should be better than it is. After all, when I am 70 I'm going to envy the imperfections I have now, so I might as well enjoy what I've got while I've got it.
-Cheers from the Vivác Winery Family!
www.VivacWinery.com
Often it is painful and difficult to look at these stories and question them, as if they are a childhood blanket that you need to insulate you from the world. Only the funny thing is, it is your story that is keeping you from experiencing the joys of the world.
My story (one of the many) is that my body should be better than it is. When I was younger, I scrutinized over every bump, lump and imperfection. Now approaching 40, I would give anything for those imperfections. I struggle to find the beauty in my aging body. I recently found myself saying to a friend that my body was better post baby than it is now. But 'post baby' was almost 10 years ago! Shouldn't I be able to see the progression as natural without wanting to change it? Shouldn't I be able to look in the mirror without uttering moans of disgust?
I have to take a moment to complain, because...that is what I do well. I realize that I am more fit than some and thinner than some, but regardless of your size or health, we can all agree that there is always something you tweak over right? Mine is my butt and upper thighs. I hated my lack of butt when I was younger, but the fact that what little I had has slid down into the cellulite on the back of my thighs, I down right loath it. When I get out of the shower and glimpse the horror of my backside, I morph into a replica of Edvard Munch's painting "The Scream".
So, if we examine this story I have and ask if it true, my answer is "uhhhh...yes! You should workout more and eat better so your butt finds its proper placement!" but this isn't helpful. And when I really take a deep breath and look at this story, I know that being incredibly hard on myself for the way my body looks is ridiculous. I see the older women at the gym walk around completely naked and secure in their bodies. Their skin sags and their lumps roll and their imperfections fade away. When I see these confidant women, I don't see flaws, I see beauty. Each body is unique and tells a story of their lives, the children they have had, the hardships and the struggles as scars caress their curves. And as I rethink my thinking, I see that my insecurities around how my body looks, actually makes me behave in a shielded, unconfident way that ironically, is what is ugly.
Maybe what the truth is, is actually the opposite of our stories. Maybe the pain we cause ourselves is literally all in our heads. Maybe detaching from the story we believe so deeply can give us exquisite freedom to really live, really feel, really enjoy the world around us.
I am trying to workout more. I am trying to eat healthy (sometimes, but hey sometimes is better than never). But the BIG thing I am going to do, is stop believing in the story that my body should be better than it is. After all, when I am 70 I'm going to envy the imperfections I have now, so I might as well enjoy what I've got while I've got it.
-Cheers from the Vivác Winery Family!
www.VivacWinery.com
Monday, November 16, 2015
Traveler's Triathlon
You know what is an intense workout? Going to the airport!
Do you remember when flying use to be an occasion to dress up? Do you remember cocktails and smoking on the plane? Do you remember nice flight attendants? Ahhh those were the times. OK most of that I don't actually remember, but I watch a lot of TV and if it was on TV, then it happened right?
Now, we are cattle herded into lines and screamed at, stripped down and fondled...yes today at the Austin airport security, the security person actually grabbed my boobs, is that really allowed? I mean it happened and I didn't object so I guess it was allowed, but it was very weird. I mean at least buy me a drink 1st lady!
With a reasonable tweaker's early arrival to the airport, these things don't usually fluster me. However, after finding out my original flight was cancelled and being re-booked on a new flight, that then was delayed, then making my connecting flight impossible, I was told to go get my checked luggage and start the entire process over! Ya, talk about a nightmare for my sensory overloaded, control freak little mind.
(The following reenactment was brought to you today by my vivid imagination)
You ready for exercise class people?
"No! I'm wearing the wrong shoes for this!"
Great more resistance!
"No, wait, I got here early so I wouldn't have to do this!"
Don't be a whiner!
"ahhhhhh!!!!"
It is now a fast tempo walk back and forth across the same one mile distance of the airport from desk to desk, because no one really knows how to help you. Then it is stairs, fast, because the escalator is broken and you are in a panic (cue the burn from Pilates class yesterday!). Then more stairs only now with weights (aka your luggage). Then back through the lines of security where the eager people behind you encourage you to hop from one foot to the next removing your shoes while juggling various bins to hold all the crap you have to unload from your seemingly small carry on all while tripping over things you trail behind. Imagine a untalented circus clown jumping rope. And like a fun house mirror, out I pop on the other side, undressed and in a shamble.
Finally, I escape the hordes and find my new gate. As I sit, relieved to be back on the path to my final destination, I realize I wasn't groped this time at security and I start to wonder if maybe that really was out of the norm and inappropriate. At this point I couldn't just use a smoke and a drink. I think I deserve one!
-Cheers from the Vivác Winery Family!
www.VivacWinery.com
Do you remember when flying use to be an occasion to dress up? Do you remember cocktails and smoking on the plane? Do you remember nice flight attendants? Ahhh those were the times. OK most of that I don't actually remember, but I watch a lot of TV and if it was on TV, then it happened right?
Now, we are cattle herded into lines and screamed at, stripped down and fondled...yes today at the Austin airport security, the security person actually grabbed my boobs, is that really allowed? I mean it happened and I didn't object so I guess it was allowed, but it was very weird. I mean at least buy me a drink 1st lady!
With a reasonable tweaker's early arrival to the airport, these things don't usually fluster me. However, after finding out my original flight was cancelled and being re-booked on a new flight, that then was delayed, then making my connecting flight impossible, I was told to go get my checked luggage and start the entire process over! Ya, talk about a nightmare for my sensory overloaded, control freak little mind.
(The following reenactment was brought to you today by my vivid imagination)
You ready for exercise class people?
"No! I'm wearing the wrong shoes for this!"
Great more resistance!
"No, wait, I got here early so I wouldn't have to do this!"
Don't be a whiner!
"ahhhhhh!!!!"
It is now a fast tempo walk back and forth across the same one mile distance of the airport from desk to desk, because no one really knows how to help you. Then it is stairs, fast, because the escalator is broken and you are in a panic (cue the burn from Pilates class yesterday!). Then more stairs only now with weights (aka your luggage). Then back through the lines of security where the eager people behind you encourage you to hop from one foot to the next removing your shoes while juggling various bins to hold all the crap you have to unload from your seemingly small carry on all while tripping over things you trail behind. Imagine a untalented circus clown jumping rope. And like a fun house mirror, out I pop on the other side, undressed and in a shamble.
Finally, I escape the hordes and find my new gate. As I sit, relieved to be back on the path to my final destination, I realize I wasn't groped this time at security and I start to wonder if maybe that really was out of the norm and inappropriate. At this point I couldn't just use a smoke and a drink. I think I deserve one!
-Cheers from the Vivác Winery Family!
www.VivacWinery.com
Tuesday, November 10, 2015
Once Upon a Butt Kicking
Ever get so fed up with yourself that you decide to kick your own butt? That was me yesterday. I decided that I needed to really rev up my workouts, sorta a punishment for not working out all weekend, yep I am that twisted. I'm like my own wicked witch tormenting the sweet, healthy, fit me hidden deep inside.
Yesterday I got to the gym and instead of my usual lazy approach of warming up with a cup of coffee and a half hour of emails (yes I do do that, don't judge), I hustled into the cardio room and ran on the treadmill for 25 mins. OK I walked and ran...maybe I walked more than I ran. But THEN I took the Power Circuit weight class.
After this thorough butt kicking, I had an "adventurous" work day (that would be code for what-the-hell-is-up-with-this-stupid-day), then made it home in time to clean my house before dinner. It was a day of slaying dragons. By the time I poured a glass of wine I was asleep. No really I closed my eyes for a moment and awoke from a death sleep at midnight. I'm pretty sure I'm a Disney Princess now, you know she falls into a spell bound sleep and something important happens at midnight, oh and she has a rockin body without having to do anything...ever.
What? I said I worked out really hard! Surely one day of kicking my own butt will give me that perfect body right?
After solving all the worlds problems from midnight to 3am (clearly this is my Disney Princess special power, they all have them and since I can't sing and don't have woodland animals coming to my window, I think mine is solving problems in the middle of the night), I arose to a beautiful new day...and one sore body. My boobs even hurt.
Funny how the mind tricks you into thinking one day can radically change your body. How one day can erase a lifetime of cookies. But in truth, one day can make a difference. One day can kick start a new way of being in the world, a way of pushing yourself past what you think you can handle and make you rise to the occasion, be it another day at the gym, or slaying more dragons, or quitting the bad self talk. The biggest adventure every Disney Princess ever faces is defeating that wicked witch.
Cue feel good song sung by a bunny while rainbows arc across the sky. Oh and lets make sure that bunny brings the Princess a glass of wine, she missed her quota last night.
-Cheers from the Vivác Winery Family!
www.VivacWinery.com
Yesterday I got to the gym and instead of my usual lazy approach of warming up with a cup of coffee and a half hour of emails (yes I do do that, don't judge), I hustled into the cardio room and ran on the treadmill for 25 mins. OK I walked and ran...maybe I walked more than I ran. But THEN I took the Power Circuit weight class.
After this thorough butt kicking, I had an "adventurous" work day (that would be code for what-the-hell-is-up-with-this-stupid-day), then made it home in time to clean my house before dinner. It was a day of slaying dragons. By the time I poured a glass of wine I was asleep. No really I closed my eyes for a moment and awoke from a death sleep at midnight. I'm pretty sure I'm a Disney Princess now, you know she falls into a spell bound sleep and something important happens at midnight, oh and she has a rockin body without having to do anything...ever.
What? I said I worked out really hard! Surely one day of kicking my own butt will give me that perfect body right?
After solving all the worlds problems from midnight to 3am (clearly this is my Disney Princess special power, they all have them and since I can't sing and don't have woodland animals coming to my window, I think mine is solving problems in the middle of the night), I arose to a beautiful new day...and one sore body. My boobs even hurt.
Funny how the mind tricks you into thinking one day can radically change your body. How one day can erase a lifetime of cookies. But in truth, one day can make a difference. One day can kick start a new way of being in the world, a way of pushing yourself past what you think you can handle and make you rise to the occasion, be it another day at the gym, or slaying more dragons, or quitting the bad self talk. The biggest adventure every Disney Princess ever faces is defeating that wicked witch.
Cue feel good song sung by a bunny while rainbows arc across the sky. Oh and lets make sure that bunny brings the Princess a glass of wine, she missed her quota last night.
-Cheers from the Vivác Winery Family!
www.VivacWinery.com
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