Monday, December 21, 2015

Mean trick

Having a baby is a mean trick, they lure you in with the promise of a new love, warm snuggles and the beauty of bonding with a little person... What they don't tell you about is... The cruelty.

A defensive, wiggly, unstable human being is going to be pulled from your swollen, exhausted body. Then without a chance to catch your breath or recover you have to work to keep them alive, fed and healthy. You won't be able to walk properly because you need to catch up on the 9 periods you missed, you might even wear a gaping wound if even more cruelty found you out of the delivery room and into the operating room. You can't laugh, sneeze, cough or move without fear of slipping off of your mountain of pads or popping a stitch, but you have to be patient at all hours of the night, because newborn = no sleep. 

You live in fear of bowel movements and wonder if your body will ever be normal again.
Once you've come to terms with the bottom half of your body in disarray, the top half joins the party with engorged breasts, cracked nipples and blisters. Forget walking into a cold room without tears, or hearing a baby cry without soaking through your, ever so sexy,
nursing bra. 

And this is without adding a sibling, a complication or life, because it doesn't stop.

And yet, we do it. Multiple times. 

With that I would love to introduce my newest love...

Zachary is 5 days old and has lived quite a life. He is sweet and cuddly, demanding and exhausting. He is worth every ache, pain and discomfort, but he's maxed out his 'scare Mummy' rights for the next 20 years, I just hope he remembers that during the teenage years.


Tuesday, December 15, 2015


Til I get my body back. In 24 hours I will have a baby boy to snuggle and smooch. I will also have an empty torso and a lot of pain, but the road to recovery is not a long one. I can't wait to be a Mum again. Right now I am just observing my toddlers life, I can't keep up, BUT in 8 weeks (or less) I'll be up for the walks that turn into runs, snuggles that turn in wrestles and boring days that turn into glorious adventures. Yes, we'll have to take diaper/nursing breaks, but that will be the only thing that stops us. 

I can't freakin' wait to be a Mum to two busy little boys. 

Wish us luck tomorrow! 


Sunday, November 29, 2015

I can't

I think I might have written about this with Thomas, but it still confuses me. How do people willing live like this, without an end in sight? I am 36 weeks pregnant and could qualify for disability, based on my inability to do... anything.

I can't sit up, roll over, stand for long periods of time, sleep, walk, run, cross my legs or function as a normal human being. I am too big for most activities, I am too uncomfortable for most situations, but my discomfort is limited. I have an end in sight and a plan to NEVER feel like this again, but it makes me think of the obesity epidemic that is facing North America (and a large portion of my family) and how people can willing choose to live like this.

I pant as I struggle to get up the stairs, my heart races as I walk my son around the block (and those 20 minutes kill me), I need to nap every afternoon to make it past 8pm. I calculate all of my daily activities on how to take the fewest steps because of the complete pain it causes (damn pelvic floor).

My ankles are swollen and my hands ache, I have no grip and constant tingles... this is normal for some people, for month/years.

Now I am never going to be a size two. I will likely never even be average, but I will be functional. I never want to be limited by my size/weight. I never want to think about any task and give up before starting, because I know I am incapable of doing it.

My ability to do anything aside... its also the vanity of it. I have been wearing the same tank for 3 days because nothing else fits (I shower and wash it, don't worry). I have to make a conscience effort every morning to find something to cover me up, then i look at my husband who grabs clothes in the dark and rushes out of the room, he never has to consider how it makes him look, how it fits or what people will think... he is fit and everything fits perfectly. I want that desperately.

Speaking of my family... my Mother is the reason I notice all these things, its been 30 years of me watching her struggle to live a normal life. She spent a lot her time sitting and asking everyone around her to help her. She couldn't play with my son or go for a walk, she had to plan her visits around bathroom breaks (I used to live in a 3 level town, that meant 16 stairs to any bathroom). Travel, shopping and a full nights rest were out of the question. I don't know how she shopped or felt about having her picture taken, but now... now everything is different. In April my Mother had Gastric ByPass and although the loss has slowed she is down well over 100lbs in 7 months. She plays with my son, chases him around, goes for walks and takes care of herself. Clothes fit and look good... its like watching her rediscover life. It's amazing. I can't be inside her head, but I am sure she wishes she'd done this sooner.

But there are so many people that don't have a light at the end of the tunnel... do they want it and just aren't willing to work for it? Do they have no memory of the freedom of being fit? Does it seem impossible? I don't know. For me it is very possible. Kids are amazing, but pregnancy is the worst.

I know I need to have patience with my body as it builds a human being, but I just can't wait to get my body back, for it to be mine again. I can't wait to go to the gym everyday... fueled by good foods (honestly I have indulged WAY too many times this pregnancy knowing it is the last time). I can't wait to explore the neighbourhood because I am going for a run (which is really the best way to explore). I just can't wait to wear clothes without making excuses for my appearance.

February 22nd, two months after having a baby (and major surgery) I will start back at the gym... Richard is up for the challenge (he'll spend mornings, before work, alone with two kids... ideally they'll be sleeping, but who knows). I am going to work to go to my 6am classes 4 days a week. I am not a huge fan of gym daycares, but will also try to go to one class a week during the day with baby in order to get out of the house.

Our goal is to be able to walk to the park for Thomas come spring (it's about 4k, pushing a stroller with two kids in it).

I know I will have days without motivation, but I will read this post and remember how much I hated being huge and incapable... I am hoping that will be the spark I need to get out of bed and get going.

Wish me luck... I need a nap.


Thursday, October 29, 2015


That's how I feel today.

Thomas headed to daycare today and I intended on spending the day online, working on my course and getting caught up, but I am still waiting for my login details.

So... what to do ALL day with no car and no companion; I have given up on cleaning, which seems to take up 90% of my life lately. I can't nap (sleep eludes me lately as I can't find a comfortable position with this growing belly).

I thought I would go for a long walk, take in the nice weather that may or may not last, and learn about the neighbourhood, but this lame horse got 10 minutes from home before the wind was knocked out of her sails and I had to loop back. I used to RUN 10k, now a 10 minute walk is too much.

I just can't wait to meet my son and not have to be pregnant anymore.


Monday, October 26, 2015

It's harder than it looks.

It doesn't seem like a lot. It's a beginner workout and I'm only doing the low impact moves, but my body aches in a good way. The way that says the muscles are working and growing.

Today Thomas even joined me for squats and marching. He's got heavy feet, but his heart is in the right place.

This is my post workout shot... Look at that belly!!

Saturday, October 24, 2015

I need it.

I am the girl that needs a good sweat, I can be distracted by life, but lately my distractions have just left me bored and depressed. You see, the recent weeks have left me unemployed and stranded, with a toddler and a 7-month pregnant belly. I felt out of control, I couldn't make any changes, because I am having a baby. No one is going to hire me at 7.5 months pregnant. I can't lose weight, in fact I am supposed to be gaining a pound a week for the next 9 weeks. I can't go anywhere (I was in a car accident 3 weeks ago that sent my car to the wreckers) not even walking will get me anywhere. And even if I did go anywhere. I don't have any money to spend (I don't quite qualify for mat leave).

Bottom line, I am in a funk.

Thomas and I try to go for a walk everyday, but its at his speed... which is 'stop I need to look at everything' slow. It also highlights my lack of shape, when my pelvic floor gives out and I fall into a deep waddle before noon.

So what can I do at home? How can I start to feel better?

It's always the same answer. Sweat.

I need to feel like I am progressing, on my way to something. I can't lose weight, but I can gain muscle. So I googled workouts for every trimester. I have to be careful in my third trimester that I don't work myself into pre mature labour. I have to listen to my body when it calls it quits and I can't start bouncing around, but I can work my arms, legs and get my heart rate up. I can prep for being a mother of 2 boys under the age of three. I can do something every day to feel active.

So I did.

This morning, with Thomas, I worked out. I did a modified version of the Jillian Michaels 90 day challenge week one, workout one. I felt good. I feel good. First time in weeks... months.

I am probably going to have to stay on week one for the next 9 weeks, but its something. Its a routine I can get used too. And it gets Thomas interested and right now he is sitting on my lap, having a cuddle while I type. So it's a win.

I am even going to post my measurements. Eeek!

Wish me luck as I work to find myself all over again.


Wednesday, September 16, 2015

Update from the unknown - land of pregnant


It has been entirely too long since I have posted… or sweat… or ran anywhere. I am still pregnant; which is a beautiful magical disgusting thing that all mothers must go through to get to the glory of motherhood. I can honestly say it is all worth it… 2-3 years later. I am not a baby person; I am a kid person and very quickly becoming a toddler person. Thomas is 26 months (2, he’s 2 years old) and he is a good freaking time. Yes there are plenty of tantrums, but most of that is knowing what he wants and being unable to get it or ‘keep it’. I say, preach it. There are plenty of things I want but can’t have or keep, like a waistline. I would love to throw myself on the floor, but as an adult I know about consequence and reasoning… he doesn’t. So he cries. I let him. When he puts on his ‘happy face’ and asks me nicely we always find a compromise.

So here I am fat and glowing in all my glory. I miss running and the gym, I miss sweating (on purpose being mid pregnancy through a heat wave is the worst). I miss feeling good, refreshed, happy. I have been so down and out this pregnancy, I can barely do a flight of stairs without gasping for breath AND by 7pm I can’t walk, the muscles in my lower half have given up for the day and I waddle, hobble and crawl to my bed.

I was able to put my gym membership on hold, it’s up three flights of stairs and I had to take a few breaks, but it helped in my ‘medical hold’, because I could barely breathe to tell the girl I needed to put my membership on hold.

It will be reinstated February 22nd. I figure that is more than enough time to recover and get back at it, she says optimistically. I am still hoping to pop this bundle out in December, but who knows. I feel like December 28th is right, but we won’t know until we get there. I think that is my Grandpa’s birthday, which would be amazing.

We still don’t have a name or a nursery design, as everything was all prepped for a little lady to be joining the family. This little guy is continuing to surprise us. Thomas still cries for baby sister, I get it buddy, but girls aren’t all they’re cracked up to be, ask my brother, he hates me almost as much as my father does. Maybe boys are the way to go – there is no turning back now. So another little motorcycle racer is joining our team in 3 months.

As for my fat and how it is proportioned, because isn’t that the whole point of this blog and this post. I am lucky this round, being so sick I have only gained 16lbs at 25 weeks and most of that seems to be in my belly, it is round and clearly a baby, which has made it easier for gawkers. No wondering… is she fat or pregnant? This beach ball announces itself and arrives a full 5 seconds before I do. Story of my life, always chasing after my boys.

So I am allowing myself a FULL 20lbs in the next 15 weeks, but let’s hope we can stay healthy and keep it closer to 15, which is insanely optimistic based on the 75lbs I gained with Thomas.

With that rough numbers I will have 80lbs to lose by January 2017. I can do this. Again.
I have my Nutritionist on standby and my gym member on hiatus, Jillian Michaels in the DVD player and water on tap.

Wish me luck, I might not be back until it is time to introduce 3.0…. so, happy Halloween, Thanksgiving and Christmas (or Hanukkah). I am not wishing Happy New Year, because I will have a baby before 2016.


Thursday, June 25, 2015


Hi Bloggers,

There has been radio silence, because I have been keeping a secret. For 3 months I have avoided writing to you, because I didn’t want to let it slip, but how could I write about losing my nutrionist, because of constant nausea? (We’ll meet again soon). How could I write about skipping the gym, because of pure exhaustion? How could I explain WHY I had to give up weight training and protein shakes? Without some wise owl guessing… I’m PREGNANT! Baby #2 is incubating as we speak. This tiny ripple has thrown a title wave on my workout routine and life.

In the last three months I have found out that I am pregnant, sold my house, bought a bigger house and picked out a sweet baby name. It’s been a whirl wind of surprises.

First, Michelle… dear sweet Michelle. She was the first on the chopping block when the news came through. I had just met Michelle the nutrionist. We had JUST started to like each other, I had lost 13 lbs, mostly fat and I was hanging on her every healthy word. Then I got the two blue lines and we broke up. I didn’t want to get weighed anymore, everything under the sun made my stomach do back flips and the weight loss plan we had prepared, didn’t fit anymore. We has one final meeting to discuss my plan for pregnancy, to gain as little as possible and to do it right. She gave me a list of foods to eat and to avoid. She wished me luck and we scheduled an appointment for February 2016. One month postpartum. I will do this with her, but AFTER I am done manufacturing this human being.

Second, The house. We live in a 2 bedroom town in Burlington. We love it. The neighbours are incredible. The location is perfect, but there is no backyard, no storage and no room for a 4th person. We decided to sell. Lucky for us, we found the perfect home BEFORE that. It`s a 3 bedroom, split level, end unit down on a beautiful street in Stoney Creek. It is one block from the water and one block from the highway. It`s perfect for us and I can`t wait to move in and decorate the nursery.

Third, The Gym. I still go, but it`s lame. I can`t keep up, I can`t breath and I have to respect when my body calls it quits…. Usually around the halfway mark. I am working to go twice a week (3 times, but that third time NEVER happens). Sunday I do the step class and I hang in there for 90% of it. Tuesday I meet with Vanessa (the beast) for Body Combat. I try to get out every weekend with Thomas for a walk, last weekend we went to LaSalle park and walked along the water. It was perfect, but Mummy was TIRED and had to call in reinforcements after that hill.

The biggest struggle with working out is the pain I get in my lower abs, when I try for high knees. Not anything to worry about, but enough to make me slow down. It`s a muscle pain, not a stress pain. It`s either round ligament pain, or scar tissue stretching. Either way it hurts.

And finally, the baby, 3.0. Thomas has always been called 2.0, as he is the new and improved version of Tom (a good friend of ours). It was only fair that the next addition be called 3.0. So this little nugget is set to arrive January 1st, but if she (I still don`t know, but ‘she’ feels right) is anything like her brother, we`ll be meeting her sooner. Christmas baby. Gah.  This pregnancy has been completely different than my first. I feel worse, a lot worse. I have cravings and aversions. I don`t feel like me, my hormones are ALL over the place. There have been days that I have warned Richard about an impending crying fit, screaming match or inappropriate laughing outburst. He is trying to keep up, but even I can`t keep up with the mood swings.

I am working with midwives again, specifically I am working with Ann again. It makes my heart flutter to think of working with Ann again. She is my rock, a version of my Nana that demands my attention. She is also very comforting and it makes the entire process manageable, despite the chaos that was Thomas, it was all ok, because Ann was there with me.

So that’s it.

Now I can write daily, or as often as I have something to write about J

I have missed it completely. 

Monday, April 27, 2015

Gastric Bypass surgery

It's going to be a long day. 

It's 6:15am and I am laying in a dark room listening to my mother try and breathe. 

It's heart breaking at the struggle her body is having with the basic necessity of breathing. Her breath is short and garglely and it has been all night. All night her lungs have fought to expand under the weight and I am so glad today has finally arrived.

Today my Mother is having gastric bypass surgery. A final effort to regain control of her life, to gain freedom and independence from a body that struggles to survive. 

I don't know how we got to this point, but I have lived in fear of repeating my mothers mistakes my entire life. She lost herself in struggling to survive with 2 kids and no support. She forgot to take care of herself along the way.

The slip lead her to a life of obesity. She can hardly walk or live freely. She can't travel or play with her grandson. Her day revolves around thoughts of food... just like mine does.

This is what pushes me to get up at 5am every morning and go to the gym. This is what drives me to find time to take care of myself in a day full of other peoples needs.

She is why I will lose the weight and stay in control of my body and my life, because the simple pleasures of mobility, easy breath and freedom are too important not to fight for.

Wish us luck today. It's a big day and this is a huge step towards independence and the life she deserves. I'm proud of her for recognizing her weaknesses and getting help. It was a huge decision that took years to make and over 15 months to plan.

It is a new beginning and I can't wait to have my Mum back.



Monday, April 20, 2015

First Weigh In

I had my first weigh in with Michelle and in 8 days I have lost 13lbs. Stop. Reread that. I LOST 13 POUNDS. 

That is insane. Even Michelle was blown away.

I lost 7.5lbs of fat (yay) and 5.5lbs of water.

I'll take it. 

Let's go muscle!! 


Slept in... But walked.

Ok. Fridays are not my favorite day for fitness. This girl loves to sleep in and have a leisurely breakfast with my boys.

I am working towards a weight loss goal and thought the more I exercise I cram in the better. So on Friday I joined Jim on his afternoon walk. 


He's walks faster than I run. We walked 5k in 40minutes. I run 5k in 36minutes. I worked up a sweat and fell behind a few times.

What I found interesting, aside from the office gossip, the muscles I was using. I can keep up in a 60-minute step class. I can run alongside Vanessa, but waking. Gah. It's tough.

It was all shin work. 

My shins screamed, I even broke into a run a few times just to give my shin muscles a break.

Now I know I need to bring a change of clothes on 'walk' days.


Thursday, April 16, 2015

10 rules to not being an ASS at the gym.

 Look, there are a few things we need to discuss.

ONE - Don’t talk to me when I am naked or when you’re naked. Especially if I don’t know you. I don’t know where to put my eyes, I don’t want to be the weird girl who is uncomfortable around naked women, but I don’t want to stare at your breasts, but have noticed the mole to the left of your right nipple, have you had that looked at? Not that I was looking. And then I worry that I was staring. Awkwardly. I didn’t even hear what you said, because my brain is saying ‘Look away. Look away.’ But I can’t. You’re naked, likely I AM NAKED. This is weird.

TWO - Don’t be naked on everything. I understand we are in the change room, where we are designated to CHANGE. This involves removing clothing, showering, toweling off and reapplying clothing. But allowing your naked sweat bum to touch everything, makes me uncomfortable. I watch you plop down, bare bummed onto the community bench, first… ew, you do not know whom others naked bum has also plopped right there on that exact spot. Second, does anyone WASH the surfaces in the change room? I know the cleaning service wipes counters and likely mops, but the benches?! Who is thinking about the benches??? Third, I use THAT bench to place my things while I figure out my locker. Now I am putting my towel, which I have to wipe my FACE with on your sweaty bum bench OR I am awkwardly trying NOT to put anything on the bench and end up dropping everything on the floor, which had probably been cleaned more recently than your sweaty bum bench. Hmpf.

THREE - Sweat. You are there to sweat. You are there to exert as much effort as possible. It is a work out. It is intended to be WORK. It is designed to make you uncomfortable to permit change in your body. If you are not going to sweat (or try to sweat). Go Home. You are in my way.

FOUR - Don’t watch me. So yesterday I am at the mirror in lifting weights. I am working through my little routine and I can feel it; that uncomfortable stare. Someone is watching me. I adjust my form and push harder, because no one wants to look like a wimp that quit. I can still feel it, finally I look around and there she is, to my back left. Just staring at me, she doesn’t even look away. It’s so… uncomfortable. Do what you do, leave me to do what I do.

FIVE - Don’t be late to class. Ok, everybody has an off day. Everybody is late to class at times, even yours truly. It’s a 5:45am and I barely have my shit together I get it. But EVERYDAY you run into class after it has started. You make room in a spot that was not meant for you and then you bounce around in everyone’s way. You are ruining it for everyone. Be on time, in fact be early.

SIX - Watch my personal space. Group exercise is exercising in a group. I understand we’re all friends and we’re all there to get a killer workout, but I can’t focus on my sweat when you are there – right there. You were late and now you are there. You’re right up against me when we move forward or your backing into me, because you choice the front spot, but started to second guess your decision. Tough. This 3x3 bubble is mine. I came early to class. I staked my claim on this little piece of land. Don’t invade and post your flag. This is not for you.

SEVEN - Don’t take a nap in the lounger. Get some rest at home, don’t take a 2 hour nap in the lounger. It’s weird and makes me uncomfortable. And don’t say you just dozed off after a killer workout, you have a blanket. You are tucked in. This was planned.

EIGHT - Please remember the anti-stink stick. I am all for working up a healthy sweat (see #3), but let’s be kind to our neighbours and where some deodorant. There is nothing worse than zipping along on the treadmill, pacing to your favorite song when something wafts into your nose. It’s a sweet, sticky smell of someone’s perspiration. Yuck. Kudos to you for working up a sweat, but now I am stuck on this stationary machine in the billowing cloud of your stench. Please. PLEASE. Keep it pretty.

NINE - Don’t hit on her. No I am NOT jealous that you are not hitting on me. I am not there to impress and I know I look like a hot mess, but my man is happy so it’s not your concern. This is a tip to help out the beautiful girl on the elliptical with her headphones on, who is just trying to work it out. You can tell she is in the zone, killing it – actually sweating. Then you and your meat head friends walk past and look her up and down, snicker to each other and hop in the machine beside her. You warm up and pretend to stretch, then you tap her on the shoulder, interrupt her stride and make some stupid remark (I have headphones and can’t always hear it, but I am guessing it is something about ‘Your glutes are looking fine, babygirl’). She is polite, not interested. She puts her earbud back in and keeps going… this should be when you walk away, but no, you keep at it; until she stops, wipes down her machine and takes cover in the ladies change room. See what you did there? You ruined it for her.

TEN - The shower. This is not your personal shower, you are not at home. Just be civil; be quick, be courtesy and take your nasty glob of conditioned hair with you when you leave. You can put it beside you on the sweaty bum bench.

It just comes down to common courtesy, don't enhance your gym experience by ruining someone else's. We're all there for the same reason, can't we just sweat in peace. Please.

Tuesday, April 14, 2015

Nutritionist and things...

They say its 80% diet and only 20% exercise. I hate ‘they’. I wish it was all exercise. I wish I could eat whatever I wanted as long as I hit the gym and I hit it hard, but it’s not up to me. And also if it were up to me, no Mondays, ice cream is added to the basic food groups and vegetables make you fat.

Last week I met with a Nutritionist.

I didn’t love it.

I hate being told I am wrong, even when I know I am wrong. I hate being doubted, even when I haven’t give you a reason to believe in me.

I am motivated by doubt, but I don’t like it.

Anyways. I am now working with a very patient Nutritionist. She reviewed my food journal, sent shocks through my body and weighed me. The conclusion. I am a hot mess, with 102lbs of body fat. Gah. What have I been doing at the gym the past 3 months??? Not building muscle. #obvi

She kept my weight a secret (mostly, I saw the number, but ignored it) and went over the test results. I am 40% fat. That’s a lot, like I am morbidly obese. I don’t feel morbidly obese. What do BMIs know anyways??? I have big freaking bones.

Not that it matters, because I am doing something about it, so its ok. It’s ok to start at the bottom, once you’ve found your bottom (regardless of what size your bottom is).

So I’m fat and I don’t want to be. What are we doing about it?

My fitness routine isn’t changing except I am adding a 45 minute walk to lunch hour to get on with the results. I will still do 3 days of cardio and 4 days of weights, plus life. Like running with the boy, walks to the park and sex (is anyone still reading my rambles?).

My diet is getting a complete overhaul. I didn’t think I was THAT terrible. I knew the rules and followed some of them, but it was the other things going on that screwed me. The sugary treats, the Tim Horton’s run and the late night snacking (Eff you DQ).

I eat too many grains. I eat too much sugar (natural and refined). I don’t eat enough protein. And there is some dirty toxin attacking and dehydrating my cells. I am so thirsty.

So I have a page of foods. Its one page and it is all I am allowed to consume. If it is not on the sheet, I can not eat #wordtoyourmother. I am also limited to 2 grains per day and 2 fruits per day (one banana is ALL my fruit for the day. All my fruit in a yellow tube). I MUST consume 3 proteins a day (I get a gold star if I consume more than 3) and one of those MUST be for breakfast.

I can eat all the vegetables I want #yeehaw.
I can’t have any processed sugar.
I made granola. Mmmm…
I have to eat PLAIN greek yogurt and am only allowed milk alternatives.
I have hemp hearts, chia seeds and simply bars.

And that’s it. My first weigh in is April 20th. Let’s see what we can do, prove the haters wrong and conquer that effing scale.

Wish me luck!

Sunday, April 12, 2015

Day One

I have A LOT of day one posts, but this one isn't about fitness. This is Day One of clean eating. Day One of no sugar. Day One of real food.

16 weeks to 30lbs lost.

Here we go!! 

Your Day One picture is always supposed to be bad (I have a real one with my nutritionist, oh yea I am working with a nutritionist. More to follow.)

Saturday, April 11, 2015

Birthday Surprises

I had a birthday. I don't even remember how old I am, so don't ask.

It was last Wednesday and the day of, was tame. A delicious lunch with my hubby, a quiet night at home with my boy, lots of giggles and cuddles. It was perfect.

And then Friday came along and tore out my muscles, destroyed my feet and filled me with liquor. It was AMAZING! My dear friend Vanessa (and workout buddy) planned a surprise night of birthday fun. I knew the date and time, but that was all I could get out of her.

April 10th, 5:15pm.

She met me at my house and we caught up on life, while we waited for my men to get home so I could say goodnight. Then Siri (or the android equivalent) lead us to downtown Burlington for dinner and dessert, which involved a mad dash across the street to Kelly's Bake Shoppe for some vegan cupcakes and cookies (which if you don't know Kelly, you should. Everything is vegan, gluten free and delicious. All the fun, NONE of the guilt).

Then we went for a stroll to find our next destination... a few blocks up Brant street the BRASS BOMBSHELL was waiting for us! We were having a private pole dancing class! We were going POLE DANCING! I was so freaking excited when we saw the little Pink Sign! I have always wanted to try this, but never -- just never.

It's a small studio with 12 golden poles, Connor (our MALE instructor) welcomed us at the door and celebrated our arrival as much as we did. We directed us to the change room, where we slipped into work out gear (but I kept my pink lace bra on to feel sexy, because there is NOTHING sexy about sports bras). Then he gave the run down of all we were going to accomplish in the next 90 minutes. Connor owned his pole with killer moves, smooth swinging hips and hair flip that anyone would be jealous of.

We walked up to the pole, circled the pole, switched directions and learned body rolls. We scooped our booties, touched ourselves and dragged our toes. We did floor work and buttercups, getups and cat-cows (but he called them something MUCH sexier). Then we moved on to spins and lifts. Vanessa killed it with her holds, I fell. A. LOT. Connor eventually got me a crash mat and then it was game on. I still fell a lot, but had so much fun. It is a crazy workout, using muscles I didn't even know could get sore, but they did and they are.

Then when the workout was over and we were catching our breath, Connor hit the stage in the sexiest pair of 6 inch spiked boots and WOW. Now I knew how he could move his body, the control he had over his limbs, but when the amateurs got out of the way! O.M.G. He killed it... he was strutting around the pole, dropping into spins, popping the fuck out of his booty and then there was the aerial work... he was upside down and fully extended, lateral and blowing in the wind. Vanessa and I just watched with our mouths open. It was incredible!

We thanked him for this dance and snapped a picture, before moving on to the next surprise. Once we got back home and devoured our cupcake, Vanessa let the last surprise slip. We were going DANCING!

We got all dolled up and called a cab, these girls were taking over The IVY. We did a few shots, pounded our drinks and got in the cab. We spent the next 3 hours, dancing our asses of in heels until a moment of fresh air carried us outside, where we lost all control of our feet and hobbled to a cab.

We came home and fell into a beautiful sleep, until alarms rang at 6am to send Vanessa running out the door and me into Mum-mode, sore muscles, sore feet, but one hell of a night!

Best workout so far!

Thanks to Vanessa for putting it all together for me! I am a lucky girl to have such amazing people in my life. Now I need to start planning her birthday, what adventure will be go on next!


And an extra picture for good measure! What you
don't see is the FULL bar to the left of the picture,
with BIG glass windows. Xo

Tuesday, March 24, 2015

Where have I been?

At the gym.

Something has clicked the last couple weeks and I've been going to the gym 5 days a week. I don’t struggle to get up in the mornings anymore and I actually look forward the hustle of those mornings.

I have been struggling to feel ‘spent’. Do you know what I mean?? Like, a workout so intense and magnificent that you give EVERY THING you have to it. You barely waddle out and you know you couldn't have done any more. Spent. It’s satisfying and exhausting, but it garners results and when it doesn't you don’t care, because you gave all you had.

Well the last couple weeks I haven't been going to that level, I try to, I pretend to, but I just can’t get there. I think it’s my body giving up before my mind does. My mind is itching to go harder, faster and my body is like ‘give me a freakin’ break’.

I've also been asking my body to do ‘other things’, so I haven’t wanted to spend it all at the gym. I’m trying to jump two ditches. Or my pants won’t stay up, my sleeves won’t stay rolled and my shoes hurt my feet… all reasons I don’t spend it at the gym.

But this morning, I spent everything I had on this workout. I kicked, bounced and punched even after my body had given up I kept going. I am still sweaty and sore, but I know I couldn't have done more. That’s all I ever want… to know I did it all.

Now wish me luck on good news this week and we’ll keep at the spending.


Wednesday, March 18, 2015

A Day in the Life - Revamp

UPDATED in the 'A Day in the Life' tab...

Things have changed dramatically in this day of this life. I recently jumped ship on the whole commuting to Toronto BS, joined the gym and my little nugget started sleeping straight through till morning. What a difference a couple months makes. I thought it was time to revise. And also, I am procrastinating. I have a beefy post, with hyperlinks and pictures, drawings and quotes, but it’s not ready and I don’t want to stare at it anymore. So I thought I would update the REST of my blog. We’re up to 17 daily reads; this is the big time people.

5:14a – My first alarm goes off, on Mondays, Tuesdays and Wednesdays I get up. (Thursdays I get to snooze once and Fridays… geez, Fridays I’m not even coherent until 6:30).

5:16a – Hustle around in the dark for my meds (one pill daily for my thyroid) and my water bottle.

5:18a – Shuffle into the bathroom, where my gym clothes are laid out and ready for me (thank you night time Melanie).

5:21a – Shimmy into my uber snug sports bra, curse the thing. Check the mirror and head to the stairs

*yes my mornings include a hustle, shuffle and a shimmy.

5:24a – in the kitchen, top up my water bottle and grab a snack; typically a piece of fruit, this morning was an Oreo. I just need something in my belly before I work out.

5:31a – Fire up the Hyundai Bullet, crank the heat and buckle in.

5:45a – Pull into the Mall parking lot (my gym is upstairs), laugh at all the gym go-ers (which is a lot  for 5:45a) that drive around looking for the best/closest spot so they can go to the gym and run on the treadmill #logic

5:50a – 6:35a – Every morning is different, but I am at the gym #workingonmyfitness, you’ll have to read the blog for the details.

6:40a – Gear up for the cold (this should be changing soon, please). Wave bye to Vanessa (my work out buddy) and head to the car.

6:47a – Pull into the driveway, see my dear husband in the window eating Eggo’s. He is a creature of habit.

*13 minutes of chit chat with the man

7:00a – Crack the door on Thomas’s bedroom, because the little chatter bug is singing to himself. And typically practising all of his new words… this morning was “Mummy, Please, Daddy, Please, Mum, Please”. Apparently our politeness is embedded in his core.

7:10a – Have our morning discussion.
Me: Thomas do you want to get up now?
Thomas: No
Me: Are you going to stay in bed all bed?
Thomas: Uh-huh
Me: Do you want to get dressed?
Thomas: No
Me: Do you want to go see Daddy?
Thomas: No
Me: What do you want to do?
Thomas: Book. Blanket. Sucky.
Me: Ok

7:13a – Leave Thomas reading, under the covers and hit the showers.

7:18a – (no time to dwaddle) wrapped in a huge towel, I get the little nugget up (this is usually a battle) and dressed and call Daddy for the hand-off.

7:23a – Try and do something with my hair.

7:26a – Give up.

7:27a – Head downstairs for breakfast, usually I am dressed and 9 times out of 10 I am presentable.

7:31a – Pack my lunch and gargle my ‘green’ shake, it’s gross but full of the good stuff.

7:36a – Fall on to the couch for cuddles with Thomas.

7:42a – Head out to work.

7:50a - I am AT work. Yes.

8a – 1:30p – Work, with ‘walking breaks’ every 40minutes. I have a timer that beeps every 40minutes; at that point I take a lap around the office, about 300 steps.

1:35p – Get home in time for Austin & Ally.

2:20p – Back to work after a hot lunch and sometimes a nap (those are the best days).

2:30-5p – Work, my walking breaks don’t usually make it into the afternoon. My work day entails a lot of data entry and formatting. Occasionally an email with Katl or the Mommies, just occasionally.

5:04p – In the car on my way to pick Thomas up from Daycare; usually on the phone with a parent. I am not choosey, whichever is available. If no parent is available, then I listen to Kiss 92.5, because Blake and Wilde are hilarious (some loyalties never waiver).

5:18p – Arrive at Holly’s, knock and watch as Thomas squeals for the door, but doesn’t come to the door.

5:20p – Get the rundown of Thomas’s day and start to try to lure him to the door. He is smart, and won’t get too close, because he doesn’t want to leave.

5:36p – Load Thomas in his carseat (yes, it takes that long).

5:40p – Hear all about his day, open the sun roof a dozen times and feed him a snack.

5:47p – Arrive home, Richard is (still) in the kitchen making dinner, we’ve got a great system; when I am not napping on lunch, I do the dinner prep. That way he can come home, read my note and get dinner finished in time for us to arrive home. He even cleans as he does it. #besthusband

6:20p – Wash off the boy and put the dishes away.

6:30p – Play. We just play in the evenings; it might mean blocks or books, guitar or colouring.

6:47p – Thomas climbs the stairs and proclaims ‘Nap.’ This is our cue to get him ready for bed.

7:17p – After a bath, massage and book, Thomas is snuggled in my arms watching Donald Duck cartoons until he finishes his bottle. Then it is off to bed.

7:24p – With empty bottle, monitor and phone in hand I truck down the stairs and collapse on the couch with Richard. We snuggle and watch mindless TV until I can’t keep my eyes open.

8:32p – I am going to bed.

10p – I am sound asleep wrapped in warm cocoon of contentment.

What a change from my previous post… no more I am more relaxed and happier in my day to day! The only change coming is the addition of a personal trainer in the evenings… this body is running out of time to be summer ready. 

Friday, March 13, 2015


4 days in a row!

Vanessa and I killed it at the gym this week. This is our first FULL week, we’ve managed to miss a day, every week leading up to this week (Missed alarm, car trouble, husband trouble, vacations and sick days… a lot goes into being a wife and mother, sometimes you have to put your wants/needs aside. We are good wives, better mothers and incredible human beings, for the record).

Gliders and Gossip
BODY Combat
Strength training a la Vanessa (ow!)
BODY Attack (Squeeze your Bottom)

I feel good today. My weigh in didn't go well and my measurements SUCKED, but eff it, I feel good. Sore in all the right places.

I am lucky to have a gym buddy!

Next week we go for FIVE. Eeeek!


Fitbit battles

I have had my battles with my fitbit. I am actually on #2. I have a direct line to Mike at customer support because of all of the issues this little nugget is having, but what it is good for is challenges. Now that I have friends (yup, I have friends)… challenges are WAY more fun. I am too freaking competitive to lose. So yesterday with all my friends in tow I started the Daily Challenge; a battle with friends on who can take the most steps.

It was a pretty basic day. I hit the gym in the morning for a little BODY Attack, which is just over 5000 steps in 45 minutes. Then I ran around with Thomas in the morning to get him settled… then it was just me, a boring day at the office. Lots of sitting on my butt.

Then the evening hit and Kitty was close on my heels with a commute in front of her.

The smack talk started.

And the race was on… I was up by 81 steps, than Kitty took it by 200 steps. It was close. I knew what I had to do.

(I didn’t know I was being filmed and the empty CHIP bag and OREO bag belong to Richard).

It was all good until my camera man sent this footage to my enemy. Kitty knew my secret.

And she was up to her own tricks.

It was close for a while… but then I took it and RAN!

I jogged for a little over a half an hour, it was time well spent, because I also hit 15,000 steps for the first time.

Until next time, Kitty.
Meaghan S was a part of our battle in spirit, but didn't wear her fitbit,
hence all the 'Still waiting on...' messages.


PS. Heather also killed it on the battle numbers with 7600 steps! That is amazing... she just managed to avoid all the silliness!

Gym Worshipper = Bad Teeth

So I might have an explanation to something that has ailed me my ENTIRE existence. My Teeth. I have terrible teeth, I have soft teeth and I have missing teeth, all of which I try to hide EVERYDAY. I cried everytime a tooth couldn't be saved, but we've never been able to figure out WHY I have such bad teeth. Part of it is genetics, my Dad has bad teeth and so does my Mom; both have no molars, for different reasons. Part of it is my inability to remember flossing (I try, but don't do it enough... but WHO DOES?). Part is because of my history with purging, because of stomach acids etc. But none of those are strong enough alone to explain the state of my teeth.
Then I stumbled across an article. 

This Article talks about how exercise can be a contributing  factor to bad teeth. It pulls the logic that working out creates dry mouth, which leaves bacteria to multiply and frolic freely. Saliva's main job, when you're not eating, is to flush all the toxins from your teeth and tongue.

Now I know what you're thinking, "She does NOT go to the gym enough to consider this a factor", oh but I do. I have been going to the gym 3-4 days a week for 10 years (which looking back says I should be WAY further along in this get fit adventure). That's a lot of dry mouth. 

Funnily enough I feel OK with this rationale. 


Thursday, February 26, 2015

Helllloooo Walter!

Walter is back.

Which is fitting based on my new love of Breaking Bad.

But my Walter is less welcome (but just as disruptive). I have a swollen thyroid again. A goiter. My body functions have slowed to a crawl. I am gaining weight for no reason, I am constantly exhausted and cold. My mood swings are… well, let’s just say I thought for sure I was prego (I am NOT). I can feel Walter pressing on my throat when I swallow, when I breath… he feels like a glob of something blocking my throat. I thought it was a lingering chest cold, but its not. It’s Walter.

What did I do to piss him off?? I have no idea this round… I started drinking a lot of Green Tea, for the health benefits (and delicious taste), but stopped when I read (and remembered) the affects it has on the thyroid. I started drinking a replacement shake for breakfast and lunch to help with my calorie intake and increase the vitamins/nutrients going in to my system, which made me feel like a super hero for a few days, but may be the culprit. So I gave that up too…

Now Walter is big enough to stretch the neck of my t-shirt.

I called the doctor to get a requisition to have my thyroid checked, but I have to wait for that in the mail (if they agree to send it). Now I know, I should GO to the doctor, but he is an hour away and I don’t have any time-off in the new position, not until July. I can’t go to a walk-in for this, because they’ll just send the referral to my doctor.

Friday, February 20, 2015

Meal Replacement

So I started taking a meal replacement twice a day. Its convenient and affordable. It makes me accountable and offers ALL of my daily nutrients (with minimal calories). I have never felt better (more to follow), but it tastes terrible and the texture is like sludge. 

Thomas wanted to try it. 

This is what he thought of it.


Tuesday, February 17, 2015

Body COMBAT kicked my ass.

And I liked it.

Vanessa and I tried a new class this week, one we thought previously cancelled. We kicked off our short week with Body COMBAT at 5:45am on Tuesday morning. The class description promises to leave us totally unleashed. That is completely accurate.

There is no equipment for this class, it’s all calisthenics… jumping, punching, skipping, thrusting, kicking and no lunges. #win

The music is perfectly tailored to the moves, the instructor grunts and yells with each movement to keep you going and entire class burns. It may have trumped Step as my favorite class.


Monday, February 16, 2015

I heart Speed Step!

I went to class on Sunday, because I love Step and have faith the class will get better. I wasn’t a huge fan of the new release… it was athletic step, and constantly pausing for lunges, squats and burpees. It’s my main cardio class of the week and I don’t want to stop, plus I freaking HATE lunges.

But this Sunday we did Speed Step and Party Step. It’s quick and dirty, fun and flirty.

I left sweaty and satisfied. Finally.

It’s going to be a GOOD week.

Sunday, February 15, 2015

Zumba with Kat

I tricked Kat into spending Valentine’s Day with me at the gym.

Sneaky, sneaky.

Kat is my favorite. She is Ian’s fiance, really she is the reason we tolerate Ian, the big goof. She makes him better… in fact, she makes us all better. She is sweet and thoughtful (she handmade me a Valentine that inferred she would ‘do me’ as a Valentine’s Day gift. It’s thoughtful, because I would love to get ‘done’).

Kat is also working towards a weight loss, get fit goal. We share fit-bit battles and protein shakes. We share everything… except my love of working out. So, this weekend I called my guy (yup, I have a gym guy) and set up a free pass for my good friend class, like a time share all we have to do is listen to a little speech about buying a membership, which isn’t happening, but we appreciated Kelly (the Aussie) and her giant smile.

How did I lure Kat in?? With Zumba. Its even fun to say. It takes no skill (don’t worry I will retract this statement later, but this is my thought process BEFORE class) and no heavy lifting. It’s a great entry class, plus how much fun would it be to shake your ass with a bunch of older ladies?? (the class is typically filled with 60 plusers who are killing the ALL of the moves. I can only hope I am that fit at 65).

We dressed all in black, hide at the back and waited for the class to start. It was going smoothly until this feisty little latino sniffed us out as newbies and came to introduce herself… she was the instructor. She told us to do our best, try to keep up and when in doubt just dance. Seems easy.


Enter Retraction: Zumba is freaking hard. I have no hips and I don’t know how to move the little hips I do have. My feet don’t cha-cha, kick ball or change. They walk or run. I can’t find the beat and after 20 minutes I am sweating, panting and looking to Kat for help. She looks much the same way and we both fall into a fit of giggles, which only gets a stern look from the feisty Latino, who’s hips must detach, because the way she is wiggling is unholy, sexy as hell, but completely unholy.

The class is ‘done’ 5 times before it actually ends and we run out before the feisty Latino can get to us.


Friday, February 13, 2015

Spinning in the dark

I love spinning.

That’s a lie.

I hate spinning.

I thought I loved spinning.

I wanted to love spinning, but its all a lie.

I love Kerry.

I miss Kerry.

Kerry was my spin instructor at my old job, I would duck out at lunch to catch her class. I would get sweaty and feel ‘spent’ afterwards. She had killer music and I regularly stole her playlist PLUS she let me create a playlist for a special class, that’s the relationship we had. Spinner and Spinnee. It was a good set-up, but it lead me to believe that I love spin. I don’t.

Friday morning I woke up early and thought this was a sign that I needed to go to the gym, I was 2 sessions short for the week (my aim is 4 per week). I rolled out of bed, popped my pills, slid into my jogging pants and rolled out the door with an apple in my hand.

This is my spin bike. 

I got to the gym nice and early. I found the SPIN room, which was in total darkness, but full of people. I slipped on a bike in the back and attempted to ‘set it up’. I couldn't get my feet to line up, my legs were too bent or too straight. My bum hurt and the handle bars were always the wrong distance away, but the class was starting with or without me. The music was great… booming, loud and upbeat. The instructor was good… lots of energy and clearly very knowledgeable. But there was something lacking… our instructor although very chatty offered little instruction. I couldn't keep up with the changes, because I didn’t know they were happening. I couldn't keep up with the pace, because my bike wasn’t set up (don’t worry I am FULLY aware that I am out of shape and that had a lot to do with not keeping up).

I left the class feeling annoyed… not sweaty and spent.

My new plan… lure Kerry away from my old gym and find her a home right here in Burlington. Her parents are already here and it could be great.

Kerry, please. 

Friday, February 6, 2015

History of Hot Yoga

The History of Hot Yoga… or more accurately MY history with Hot Yoga.

 It all started 7 years ago. I was living in Kingston, working out at the gym every night (I didn’t have cable and I didn’t have friends, so I would run on the treadmills and watch my favorite shows). I wanted more, my boyfriend at the time was a complete jerk and constantly made comments about my big butt (a real jerk). I wanted to drop weight and I wanted to do it quickly, this is all before I understand being healthy was better than being skinny (weird, right?). I had heard about Hot Yoga and thought I could use all the sweating to lose some pounds fast (keep in mind at this time I was 40lbs lighter than I am now, but miserable). I roped in my girlfriend who had similar issues and we headed to the brand new studio in the heart of downtown.


It sucked. She left with a bloody nose, I threw up and had a headache for a week, but dropped a pound so went back from more. It was like a sweat lodge, I can’t imagine it being that healthy back then, I think the practise was new enough that no one noticed the terrible conditions. I had also never done Yoga before in my life. I remember hating every class, but bragging that I did Hot Yoga. I had issues back then.

Then I found a place in Toronto on the Danforth, I only went twice because it was crazy intimidating. This place was a standalone Yoga bar that took the Yoga lifestyle VERY seriously. To the point of no cellphones in the building. I remember going in the dead of winter and having to take the subway, because I didn’t have a car. I remember standing outside, sweaty and cold trying to call my scumbag ex to pick me up, because I had gotten yelled at by the Yogi for trying to sneak a phone call. There were no shoes in the entire Yoga area, not even reception. You had to ditch your socks and shoes at the front door (the entry level of the two story building) and go up the winding staircase in your barefeet. I also remember the other people at this Yoga bar (I am calling them Yoga Bars because it makes them sound more fun than they actually are) they were conventional Toronto Hipsters (which I know is wrong, but they were exactly as you expected Hipsters to be, they all dressed the same, wore their hair the same and carried the same stank face… way to be original ‘hipsters’). I wasn’t one of them and they made me feel it. In the class I was able to ignore the sideways glances, because I didn’t have traditional yoga gear. I was in sweat pants (for SWEATING) and a tank top.

The next round was when I moved to Acton with Richard. For the first time in my life I had expendable income and 50lbs to lose (I was prepping for our first vacation together that involved going to North Carolina with a group of beautiful Motorcycle girls). I found a little spot in Milton inside the Kicks for Kids building. It was a tiny little room, but the yoga was hot and so was the instructor. He was handsy too… happy to help ‘correct’ a pose with his strong Yogi hands. I ended up bringing a crowd to that venue and we shut the place down, literally. It shut down and relocated. I remember loving that class, he would play rock music and talk through the workout, which is VERY anti-yoga, but very entertaining. It was 90 minutes of pure sweat. It was tough, but reasonable. I could do it. I always left feeling so good, the night classes helped me sleep and worked on my tired achy muscles.

I didn’t go back after the shutdown, Michelle had moved away, Mike and Angie weren’t available anymore. My hot yoga dreams fell apart.

I wouldn’t make it back to Hot Yoga until we were settled in Burlington. Now I had never looked at the different types of hot Yoga, because there are several from Moksha to Bikram. I just wanted hot and sweaty. When we first settled in Burlington I was trying to lose another 30lbs in preparation for the wedding, there is always some reason I am not happy with my body and trying to fix it. It’s exhausting and honestly I hope to get to the point that I don’t care. Actually that I don’t have to care, because I am flawlessly fit, because I am a registered Personal Trainer with my own bootcamps (dream big). So I found Some Like it Hot. It was a yoga studio based in a recreation centre. It was ok, I signed up for the 20-day trial and went twice a week. I think at this point I started dragging Cassy along with me. She is naturally fit and beautiful… and bendy. She killed it in these classes.

Some like it Hot seemed amateur, which I understand the irony based on my own amateur status, but I like the places that take Hot Yoga uber seriously. I did like one of their classes, but that was mainly for the instructor, she was great and lived the life in a harmonious way, which sounds odd, but she wasn’t the least bit pretentious (a typical character flaw of the very fit… but I can’t say I wouldn’t be a bit Pretentious if I successfully lost 80lbs and walked around in a body with sculpted muscles etc.)

My original take on SOME LIKE IT HOT 

I didn’t continue on after the trial. Cost is always a factor and I had a few more Trials to abuse. I next went to Kula, which I had done once before in Oakville… which was my first mistake. Oakville is full of wealthy people that are naturally fit, they wear name brands and aren’t very welcoming to outsiders (or poor people like me). I did there 30 days for $30. Cassy did the trial with me. We went to every type of class offered from Yoga Cross (pilates/yoga/Cross Fit), and insane with weights and lunges) to Detoxifying Yoga, Bikram to low impact. This studio was smack in the middle of serious and fun. I loved the classes and the location, but after the trial costs shot up to $25 a session, which didn’t work on my wedding budget. Back track to the detoxifying yoga… what a GREAT class. I don’t always believe in the continuing affect, does my liver really care about how I stretch, but to be harmonious I tried this class, we wrung out our organs, flushed our livers and stretched our hears and I did feel better afterwards, different, relieved. If only the timing had been better, it was a tricky class to get to.

Then Kula was bought out and replaced with Be Yoga, same location different Mantra. They added suspended yoga, which I still haven’t tried. I went to several drop in classes, but never fell in love with any of them or the instructors, which is SO important to me. And now I was doing yoga for the stretching not for the potential weight loss. I was in a different head space.

Then I got pregnant and Hot Yoga was done. You can’t elevate your temperate when pregnant it can cause birth defects, especially if you are not practising regularly (The class I took in Oakville was taught by a VERY pregnant and VERY flexible yogi).

After Thomas I returned to Be Yoga for a Mommy and me class, but that resulted in him being tethered to the wall, because he was too mobile and constantly tried to escape to harass other babies. I didn’t love the class or the cost.

And now finally I have come to today, well yesterday. I joined Goodlife fitness. I joined because I love Goodlife, because I love their classes, but the thing that pushed me over the top was the new Hot Yoga studio. I could incorporate Hot Yoga into my weekly routine without the added cost (I know I am cheap… I have mentioned cost a dozen times in this post, but Hot Yoga ain’t cheap). Now I just had to figure out when to go. There was a Friday morning class, a 6am start time, which meant a 5am alarm (you have to sign up 30-minutes prior to class), but knowing how I typically felt directly after class, I didn’t think a morning class would work. I also worried about time to prepare. I have learned you need to fully hydrate before the class (and during and after, but before is what will get you through the class) and you can’t go in hungry or full. It’s a small window of opportunity to get it right. A 6am class means I am eating a light breakfast at 5am to be ready, that is  A LOT of commitment on a Friday. My other options were Saturday/Sunday, but that would pull me away from Thomas and make me miss the only Step Class I can make it too in a week (which Step is STILL my favorite class). The last option Thursday. TV night. I already hit the gym at 6am for a Body Pump (which I love) could I really do 2 intense workouts in ONE day? Only one way to find out. I headed to Hot Yoga last night after a rushed daycare grab, dinner and dress. I ran to the gym, barely hitting the 30-minute pre class mark. I then changed and sat in the ‘waiting room’ for 20 minutes (that system needs to be revised). Finally we were let into the Hot Room. Whewf. It was hot and smelly. The immediate impression was this was NOT a serious class. I found a spot at the back, (or what I hoped was the back. I had been screwed before with setting up and then finding out I was at the VERY front of the class). I unrolled my mat, laid my towel down, set my blocks to the side and stripped off my socks and pants (yes, I wore shorts. In Public. On purpose. In Canada). I watched as gaggles of girls skipped in, giggly. I watched as guys sauntered in and scoped out the prime location, based on the women next to them. I laid down in Shavasna and started on my breathing. It was hard to concentrate with all the chatter and it dawned on me, I might have become a Hot Yoga snob. I would cringe if someone pulled out their phone while they were in studio. Gah. It occurred to me I have become ‘one of them’. The class starts to fill up and the stragglers start to make everyone shift and shimmy to make room, which is a HUGE pet peeve of mine. I got here on time and got myself all settled and then you’re going to run in late, and demand I move? It is the same way I feel about going to the movies. Don’t ask if I can move over one seat, because you want two seats together and the previews have already started. I am settled and happy. Screw you. Whewf, lost my mantra for a second.

So the class starts and it filled with every type pf Yoga goer. The hard-core, yoga fanatic who doesn’t wear enough clothes or deodorant. It’s usually an older woman in  just a bra. She usually looks angry. The Chubby girls, whom I used to be ‘This is the best way to drop quick weight, right?’.The Yoga Jock, a buff guy that has added yoga to his routine, because his muscles are tight. The Yogi, although female Yogi’s happen, they are harder to pick out. This type is usually a ripped guy, with his ponytail in a bun. He’s beautiful to look at and you can bet he understands Karma Sutra. The Yoga Snob, ‘I do yoga. What do you do?’ this is usually a fit girl, dressed head to toe in Lululemon  with resting bitch face. The Yoga-Hippy, this is the best Yoga persona. They are there because they love yoga, love the world and love you. They are smiling in their tie-dye shirt.

The smell in the room is terrible and the floor creaks, but I am being picky and after the above I think I have the history to be a little picky. Not that either of those things will stop me from going back.

Than our Yoga-Hippy instructor walks in. She is like a pixie floating around us. She starts speaking to us in a whisper asking us to be present, to feel our breath. The next 60minutes cruise by, I can keep up with the class and it feels good. I feel good. I am holding poises, stretching through and surprising myself.

I am reminded that I love hot yoga, that stretching and meditation is just as important to a workout regime as cardio and strength. I am relaxed and at rest. I can even get past the smell of the sweaty guy beside me who keeps making eyes.

I drift out of class after 60 minutes and feel at ease.

I freaking love hot yoga. I slept like the dead last night and now I am just trying to work out how to achieve that yoga high EVERY week.

That is my complete history of Hot Yoga… its been a crazy ride, but I am glad I have the experience. I would like to believe I am the female Yogi. I love the class, understand the lifestyle and look cool even in a 101 degree room.