5 Days of Sarah's Birthday: Today, I celebrate my singleness.

The title of this blog is still as appropriate as ever.

Late bloomer.  

I'm going to be 33, and I still feel as though I'm learning like I'm 23.  It's taken me a while to get there, but my 30's have definitely been my time to blossom.  Instead of dwelling on the things about myself that disappoint me, that I want to fix, that I think I haven't done well enough, and all my failures and shortcomings as I usually do, I chose to do a little something different.

On Facebook yesterday, I wrote:

On this, the 5th day before I turn 33, I have decided that I will not judge myself as usual, but instead celebrate who I've become.

Day 5: I am grateful that I exist. I like getting to know me. I like Sarah Bauman. If I weren't her, I'd want to be her pal. You're alright, Sarah Bauman.

I have the greatest friends who were quick to remind me that they've know this all along.  I have the greatest friends - the best friends I've ever had, and I'm so in love with them.  But...  

Something that's been nagging at me a little more recently...  My perpetual singleness.  

Today, on the fourth day before turn 33, I will continue choosing to not judge myself as usual, and celebrate who I've become.

Day 4: I am grateful that I am single, and have really never been otherwise.  There have been many "almost's," many brilliantly random encounters that just don't seem to happen in real life (but they do!) that scream in and disappear just as quickly.  

I'm really glad I've never had my heart shattered after having been in love and lost.  Don't get me wrong - my heart's been broken.  But I don't know what it's like to be in love and lose that.

I'd rather be single than be someone's "maybe."  

I'd rather be single than be in something I know is temporary and futile.  

I'd rather be single than tolerated.  

I'd rather be single than strung along.

I'd rather be single than with someone who, after ages, just can't put a label on it.  

I'd rather be single and a little naive than jaded.

I'd rather be single and, despite how futile it can seem sometimes, still have hope.

I'd rather be single and strong and in love with loving everyone than settle for less than that with one.

Eventually, there will be one.  We'll both come screaming in, in one heck of an epic collision.   Eventually...  But until then, this will do just fine.  

Insert GRRRR face here.

Yes, that's right.

I am making a squishy, probably highly unflattering BLERGGGHHH, grrrrrr, blehhhhh face right now.

Why, you ask?

I'm fluffy.  That's why.

Sarah who used to be 320+something pounds would be quite infuriated with 200lb, size-14 Sarah for complaining about her current state of being.  But, while I once was a tight, fit, size-12ish, 200lb lean, mean, dense, muscle, awesome-machine...

Now?  I am 200lbs of less muscle and a lot more wiggle.

Here's the thing.  Life happens.  It is pretty easy to commit to getting super buff and being in full-on-workout-super-mega-beast-mode when you have a part time job, a lot of time on your hands, and a large part of your very humble income is committed to the gym.

"What shall I do on my day(s) off?  Hmm.  Work out for 2 hours.  Oh - friend wants to go for a walk and then work out later, also?  Cool!"  And then I just worked out for almost 4 hours.

This would happen a couple of times a week, along with the more "normal" workouts that were only 1-2 hours.  But let's get real, yo.

Who has 2-4 hours a day to work out when you also work at least 45 hours a week, have a home, have a life, have people you love and want to see, and you need to...oh, you know - SLEEP.  Or eat.  Or, like, actually engage in life.

I don't know how to do it all.  I don't.  I have tried to figure it out, but I really don't know.  And this, my friends, has been the single biggest struggle over the last 2 years.  I should be grateful that I am 200lbs and not 330.  I should enjoy that, while I'm not small, I'm at least still in Curvy Girl Land instead of You're Slowly Killing Yourself Land.

This brings up two huge things that are plaguing my brain of late:

1.  How do you accept where you are?  Others have lovely things to say, especially those who haven't seen you since you lost the initial weight and are so excited for you.  It's strange how, even though they're right, even the loveliest things fall on deaf ears when you aren't succeeding how you feel you should.  It's almost angering.  And, why do I still see myself as a big person?  I don't think other people who've only met me since I've been this physical version of me see me that way.  When is everything good enough?

AAAAAAND two.

I want to be really physically fit again.  How do I do that while committing more realistic amounts of time per day to fitness?  I want to commit 30-75 minutes a day to physical activity.  My knees are in a bit of a state of disarray due to my weight history, so there are a few limitations.  But I want to be STRONG again.  I want to firm up again.  How do I do that knowing full well that I can't be the person who lackadaisically spends her multiple days off per week doing whatever she fancies, part of which happens to be working out for hours on end.

Readers who are fitness types or who have already or are struggling with this - throw a girl some pointers (but please avoid squats and lunges - my knees can't take it).  I really, really need it.  I want it.  Need it, dare I say.  No, no dares.  Definitely need it.

And those of you who are or have struggled with self-perception and trying to find a way to be content with where you're at:  lend me your thoughts.

I know it may seem as though I kid when I seem as though I'm talking with you all, but I really am.  I picture you all chatting right back to me.  I've got quite a soft spot for you, I do.  There are some things that I've experience and am going through that I really hope can help others know what they're getting themselves into when they lose weight.  But also?  I'm a girl who wants to hear from others who've already gone beyond where I am.  This is a conversation - not a lecture.  So let's chat.

Let the Little Victories Commence.

Little Victories, friends.  Little things add up to such big things.

As I've talked about in this here blog many times before, one of the truest of the most true things I can relay to you (even when I'm not doing it myself...) is this:  I will never cease to be repeatedly amazed at the mighty things that can happen when you simply choose to "do."  

Pyramids weren't built in a day, blah blah blah, insert cliche here, etc.  You get it.
(Speaking of pyramids, Fat Archaeology is SO happening again.)

While I most certainly have not been perfect since my last post, here's what I have been:

Honest.

With myself, that is.

Today, I didn't stick to my calorie goal.  But, I logged it.  I put it all in MyFitnessPal and I made sure to burn off what I ate.  My workout today may not make me lighter, but it will make me more fit, and I won't gain anything.  And working out most certainly did one of the things for which I love it the most:  it made me happy.  I ate a cookie, I had a piece of cheese pizza, I drank two Whitsuns with my work team, and I am still happy.  Not beating myself up, not angry about my poor decisions - content.  And even though I didn't stick to my 1500 calories, you know what I still am?

Happy.

Little Victories are so huge.  I have a tendency to concentrate on the very large, overall picture of where I know things need to and can be, and forget that it takes many a little goal to get there.  If we constantly think about the end result without breaking it down into smaller, regular, attainable and realistic goals, we set ourselves up for a feeling of perpetual failure.  I drive myself absolutely nutty and get nothing accomplished.  It feels infinitely better to meet lots of little goals.

If memory serves me, I think I may know a girl who did just this and lost about 130lbs once upon a time...

Here are my goals for the next week:
I will work out 5 times.
I will stick to my calorie goal a minimum of 4 times.
I will make a new, kickass installment of my Sweaty Beats playlist.
I will spend a half hour per day until Saturday tidying my bedroom.  My closet kind of threw up all over...
I must see How to Train Your Dragon 2.  Seriously, though.  It has to happen.

What've you got up your sleeve?  What would you like to tackle over the next little while?  Pick a little victory in your sights, or perhaps you've already had one recently!  Share away, friends.

Fashionably Late-r than ever.

It has been over a year since we've chatted, readers.  I named my blog partly because of the fact that I am very much a late bloomer, and largely because I am almost always late.  Well...  Better late than never.

To try and catch you up with everything my mind, body, and heart have gone through and learned in the last year in one blog post would just be silly.  So where do we start?

The end.  The beginning of the end.  Or, well...  A new beginning.

This blog began when a late bloomer was asked by so many to share her weight loss story - of growth, of struggles, tips, advice, hope, inspiration, defeat, a fair few archaeological discoveries, and a handful of other things that became part of her life changing.  The pounds began to shed.  My mind and body became stronger.  Becoming part of a community of you all who have been, are going, or are about to go through it by sharing through this blog helped me accomplish great things.  It gave me accountability.  It helped me sort through the remarkable chaos that is my brain at times.  It gave me support, goals, and so many people who helped me succeed by becoming a part of my little journey.

But what happens when things aren't so great?

You stop writing in your blog for over a year.
You can't do a single push-up.
You can't plank for 3 minutes anymore.
That pilates video that was too easy now seems impossible.
You don't make healthy meals at home on the regular.
You eat thoughtlessly and have developed a sweet tooth.
Your clothes still fit, but where they once were up against 190lbs of lean, mean, muscle machine, they now slightly cut in to 205lbs of wiggly, wobbly, fluffiness.
You now look like you weigh 205lbs, whereas before, that 190lbs was a toned-up-almost-size-10.
That picture of you 2 years ago when you were healthier and happier than you've ever been is now more difficult to look at than a photo of you from 4 years ago when you could barely work out the logistics of which bathroom stall you'd fit into best.
You forget that you can once again ride roller coasters.
You forget that you can shop in pretty much any store you want, and you own clothes that legitimately fit and have the size Medium in them.
You forget that walking a 5k in less than 40 minutes is the usual.
You forget that you now opt to ride your bike to work, and then go on bike rides for 20 miles like it ain't no thing.
You forget that so many people who worried about you for so long, but loved you as you were, are still happy to see you living life in ways you kept yourself from living before.
You get annoyed that people who know you as you are don't realize where you've come from, but before, looked forward to the day when people didn't know you as you were, but just as you are now.
You forget that you've had so many new experiences that are possible because of how you chose to change your life.
You think you have pretty moments, but don't like yourself as much these days.
You see all the things you didn't do, didn't do as well as you wanted to, or did wrong - and you never think about all the things you did, did well, and did right.
You have the most colorful, varied, brilliant, distinctive, wonderfully ridiculous, perfectly peculiar, absurdly loving bunch of fictional characters that are your real-life friends.
You have little cousins that see you in your bathing suit and say, "Remember when you used to be fat?!"

I am flawed.  I haven't made the best choices.  I've stumbled.

I sometimes feel like a failure.

And then I remember.

I am an intelligent, talented, respected, beautiful person who loves people and is so very fortunate to be loved in return.  I have had my dream jobs.  I've lived in another country.  I have an amazing job at a Michigan craft brewery that has so much potential it's silly, and I work with a cluster of dynamic, passionate, driven, supportive people.  I've had little adventures that you think only happen in the movies, but really happen every day.  I have so much to be thankful for, and so much to look forward to.

I was Sarah Bauman who lost 123lbs, her life changed, then wound up a bit lost.

As of today, I'm Sarah Bauman who's lost zero pounds, is choosing to change her life again, and can see the path off to the left, but just needs to cut through some overgrown shrubbery and will be right back on it.

I'm a late bloomer for life.  Sometimes things take a little while.  But while I have life, I choose to accept that blooming late is better than never.

I'm back.  I've missed you all.  Here we go again.

The Visitor - A Tale for Valentines

I've often likened myself to an island.  I love people, and I love music.  Those two things quite suffice.

However, one of dearest friends in Liverpool said something that got me thinking way back when.  She said, "Sarah, you know, it's strange - I'd consider you one of my best friends, but I know very little about you."

She was right.  I know so many people and could chat the day away, but as excruciatingly social as I am, I am also intensely guarded.  I've always figured that I had a certain amount of transparency and that people could just inherently "know" me.  Well, they may, but I'm not the greatest at getting very close with people.

I'm even worse at using the word boyfriend.

I am a lover of humans.  I thrive on human interaction, and am happy to galavant about and join in whatever people just might get up to.  It is as though the entire world is my boyfriend.  

I had an odd thought lately, but I'm going to share it with you anyway.  You should expect this by now.  

When I'd started dating someone a bit back in the day in Liverpool, a friend of mine said, "Sarah - it's just strange.  And this isn't meant to sound horrible, but it's almost like you're asexual.  I just can't imagine anyone being attached to you."

I thought that was hilarious, and actually quite accurate!  As I said, it is as though the world is my boyfriend.  It's almost as though I have this silly sense of duty to the world to love everyone and be everything I can be for them, so to have someone, one person, who I call my boyfriend or even, maybe, you know, fall in LOVE with, would just be ludicrous and a huge disservice to all of the lovely humans.

I did tell you it was an odd thought.

But, here's the thing.

This island had a visitor.

The visit was far more brief than I'd have cared for it to be, but it happened.  Someone got to this island.  It was good.  It was fun.  He was lovely.  I wasn't expecting it, and I got more out of it than I could have possibly anticipated.  Even when it ended, it ended with a three hour, wonderful conversation that literally ended a phase of chaos and helped me learn a great deal about myself.  

I'm not an island, I suppose.  And letting someone get to me, while possibly a disservice to all the other humans in the world (oh gee, laugh out loud, etc.), turned out to be wonderful.  

A few things that I got from this:  

I know even more lovely humans.
I learned that it turns out, I'm a pretty good girlfriend.

I learned that I don't have to worry about being able to handle work, working out, dieting, a social life, plus having a companion along for the ride.  I can do it.

I was reminded how wonderfully we all deserve to be treated and can't wait for it to happen again someday.

I also got Mister Breakfast.  It just happened, and we had to elaborate...  See below.

I'm spending Valentines Day running around town in a red polka dot shirt my Mom got for me handing out silly Lego Star Wars & holographic kitten and puppy valentines with candy hearts in them to all of my favorite humans, and probably a few I don't even know.  And then I'm going to have dinner with one of my favorite ladies in the world.  And then I'm going to smile for a moment and look forward to when I have another island visitor to share it with someday.

I do have copious amounts of love for you all.  Have the happiest Valentines Day.

Feeling good feels good.

It's impossible to not feel slightly more good after listening
to this.  Walk down the street playing this in your earbuds
and tell me you don't smile.  Impossible!

It's funny how life has its ebbs and flows.  This is nothing new, but somehow it seems like an epiphany over and over again.  When you're in the thick of it, some part of you is very logical and aware that it will most certainly pass, but another part of you just can't see past it.  It's hard to remember how to get back to feeling good again.

Once I got the hang of tracking my food, eating healthier and exercising regularly, it got to be second nature. It seemed so easy.  It was the norm.  It wasn't a challenge.  It was my way of life.  It was all so simple and so good.  

I forgot how easy it can be for that to not be the norm.

After a summer and an autumn of struggle, things are finally getting back to normal.  Being the person of extremes that I am, I expected to just start back up and rule the world as I remembered doing before.  But, therein lies the problem!  I had to break my mindset of trying to get back to where was.

I

am

not

THERE anymore!  That was then.  This is now.  Move along.

A lot has changed since then.  But, things have settled down and I'm in a better place in every way now.  I love it when you finally feel something break, something give way, and you know that you're on the right path again.  Well, it's not even that you're on the correct path again - you're at a great pace and making some serious headway towards whatever intersection, bend, bridge or whatever might be on the way.

I met up with a friend last Sunday who is a dietitian.  The initial plan was to talk about food, get some good ideas for new ways of eating, and new things to eat.  It ended up being a great conversation about where I'm at in life in general and what I've got to do to progress.  

It was a healthy dose of divine intervention.  Even though the things we talked about are things I already knew, it sometimes takes the right person at the right time saying something they didn't even know they needed to that hits you, breaks you down, builds you up, and propels you all at once.

I keep forgetting that life is a process.  Things don't magically find a perfect groove forever.  You may have a good stretch, but you'll have rough ones, too.  And they will come and go, and then come and go again.  

I'm finally starting to get it.  

I don't have to do it all at once!  There are so many things I need to do, both at work, and for myself.  But I've been working on a few things at a time.  This week, my goal was to go grocery shopping and return to my regular eating and exercise habits, remembering that even if I only get a half hour of something in, it is better than nothing.  I've also tried starting my days with 10-15 minutes of some kind of exercise.  One morning, I did a 10 minute Pilates video.  Another morning, I did a bunch of core exercises.  I've overcome my urge to buy peanut butter, because if that's in my house, well - it's over.  

I've also done necessary but boring things like scheduling appointments with doctors and insurance agents, rethinking my spending habits and reworking my budget, getting organized, and figuring out a regular schedule of exercise.  I just might start going to bed earlier, too.  

You've heard me say this before, and I will say it over and over again.

It is amazing what happens when you make calculated, boring, conscious choices to simply do things.  

I'm learning that feeling good and being content is not as simple as "feeling" good.  Right now, I've got a lot to work on.  But feeling good is a choice, and it's choosing to make good decisions that will lead to a life of good, not a season of good.  

It's a new kind of goodness, but nonetheless, it feels good to feel good once again.

Y'all best appreciate.

Admit it.  You do it, too.

Sometimes we get so focused on the things that we need to work on that we forget to stop and appreciate the things we've already done and what we've got.

Me?

I've got a bum.  Yup.  I've not been the biggest fan of this bum and, in fact, started to focus on trying to trim that little lady down.  But, the street I work on and walk up and down multiple times a day lends itself to forgetting anyone else is on the other side of those windows and checking yourself out in the reflection.  (Seriously - ask my friends who work inside a media hub on the corner, and they'll have a few goodies to share about things people do in those windows' reflections, including me doing the running man while they're in meetings.)

Today, while strutting past those windows, I noticed my bum.  And I also noticed that it's not too bad of a bum.

I'm doin' alright.  You're doin' alright.  And if you aren't doing' alright, then do a little something about it. Take .3 seconds and remind yourself about the things you DO like about you.  There's a lot more good than we take the time to remember. Y'all best appreciate.

A New Resolve for a New Year.

Ending 2012 trying to remember how
far I've come!

Dear, dear readers!

A year ago, and feeling amazing.

Oh, my, so much has happened in the last couple of months.  So very much.  And you can be sure I intend to fill you in little by little.  It would be too much for one conversation.  Silly as it may seem, I do view these blogs as more of a conversation with all of you lovely humans I picture as I write.  I have missed you all.  I have missed our chats.

So, let's get reacquainted.  Catch up a bit.

How are you?  Did you have happy holidays?  What did you get for Christmas?  Did you indulge happily, satisfyingly refrain, or a bit of both?  Did you kiss someone on New Years' Eve at midnight, or did you make the most of a bit of mistletoe?  Did you make any resolutions this year?  If you made any last year, how did that go?

The New Year has never felt particularly new to me.  I've never felt like January 1st is anything other than a new day on a calendar.  I've never felt any particular significance to the magic date change that begins the next year.

Since I can recall, my year's always begun around August to September.  Having parents in education, being a student once upon a time, and working within the entertainment industry lends to things winding down in June and kicking back into high gear in August and September.

It just so happens that something's been brewing within me for quite some time, and the resolve to push forward finally made its way to the forefront.  I like that this happened to happen right now, the beginning of a brand new year.

When people have talked about "plateaus" in the past, I always surmised that it was a physical one.  Turns out, it can be mental, too.  And mine certainly has been.  A few things have happened in the last week, though, that have renewed me and instilled a drive and lust for life that I've been missing for a while.

A dear friend of mine put it like this:  there's a wall in front of you, and you've got a few big cement blocks you can stand on just enough to see over it, so you think, "Sweet!  I'm out of it!"  But, it turns out you aren't over it - you just got a view of the other side.  Then, something happens - and whatever it is, it puts its hands together, gives you a foothold and a lift, then nudges you on your way up the wall.  Before you know it, you're on top of the wall and all you have to do is start down the other side. Or, if you're like me, you just jump.

A year ago also, thrilled to be turning 30
and DJing alongside friends.

So, with this new year, I will not make resolutions.  I will embrace this new resolve and the faith that things are better, will continue to get better, and remember what I have done and what I am capable of doing.  I will be thankful for the things I've done and experienced in 2012.  And I will start out 2013 with the resolve to work on these things:

I will be thankful for the wonderful humans that have entered into my life, some of these even in just the last couple of months.
I will work harder.
I will focus, organize, and start ruling the world once again.
I will start tracking my food and working out a minimum of 5 times a week (and attempt to do so in the morning).  This is not because of a desire to be thin, but because of the satisfaction and contentment and happiness an active, healthy life brings me.

And I'll tell you all about it along the way.

Happy New Year, friends.  I hope and pray your 2013 is one full of truly living life, and things that may not be comfortable, but will be very, very good.

Cheers.

Back in the saddle again.

Doubt.

Confusion.

Chaos.  

Defeat.

Unbalance.

These are a few of my (least) favorite things.

As you know, they have been some of the most prominent things in my life over the last while, however.  So I went back to the beginning: what started all this?  What did I do that made this work?

Simple.

I didn't feel.  I didn't analyze.  I didn't get all bent out of shape about things.  There was no "A-ha" moment that made me magically start doing anything.  I made boring, calculated, measurable choices that eventually led to bigger changes both physically and mentally.

So I did it again.  I just started.

I'd gotten back up to 200.6 lbs as of about a week and a half ago.  I made myself get on the scale because I knew I needed to see it.  I broke down crying at the gym and felt like an utter failure.  Then, I went a bit numb for a few days.  

I made a boring, calculated choice to start doing what I know I should do again.  

1.5 weeks back into it?  This is what happened.  

I.  AM.  BACK!!!!!

Here we go, people.  I shall never cease to be repeatedly amazed at the simple truth that great things happen if you'll simply just do it.  

Carry on, people.  Carry on.

Breaking fat.

I’ve never thought of myself as “fat.”  I’ve always quite liked quite a few things about me.  But, how would I describe me if asked?  Do I see the same person in the mirror that others do?  How do I perceive myself? 

I’ve been struggling intensely over the last 6 months with a battle of projecting my leftover “fat girl mentality” onto others, by assuming their perception and potential reactions towards me are ones that only I have toward myself.  I’m consistently a bit baffled by all of the ways my weight affected me, and I really had no idea just how much it had influenced my mind.

That's me there, on the far right... Cowardly Lion at your service.

For years, I was literally an obstruction.  I was well over 320lbs at some point, and there’s just no getting around it – I was an obstacle at times, both physically and mentally.  I’ve had people in my life who’ve rolled with it the best they could and never made me feel as though I was a burden.  But some part in the back of my mind was and still is perpetually in this mode of constant apology, always feeling and assuming that I am an imposition. 

Something as simple as wanting to text a friend to hang out with her: 
Well, I don’t want to bother them…

I see people I know and I want to walk up to them: 
Should I? Shouldn’t I?  I don’t want to bother them…  Will they think it’s weird I’m just out and about by myself?  Will they mind if I join them?  I dunno…

“Sorry to bother you guys… Do you mind if…”

If I want to talk about anything personal with a friend, or, God-forbid, maybe show that I’m not 120% happy and ruling the world all the time, I’m petrified and just know it’s a bother, so I don’t.  I keep it in, or as you've heard me mention before, I "pull an ostrich."

Why would they be bothered? They are my friends.  If they were to walk up to me, I would most likely be overly giddy and delighted that they were there and wanted to join me.  Why do I assume people have such negative reactions to me? 

It is because it is not nearly as much about perception for me as it is projection: a projection of this bizarre, intense fear of vulnerability, rejection and failure.  At some point along the line, I allowed myself to be a defeatist.  I’ve come leaps and bounds since beginning this process, and sharing with all of you, in realizing that I have such a propensity to sell myself grossly short and prematurely fail.

Premature failure: the tendency to over-analyze things to an excruciating extent before actually taking action because, despite all potentially good outcomes, the result is nothing short of impending doom, hurt, and/or humiliation.

Problem sorted. Crisis averted.  Humiliation avoided.  Progress: none.

When it boils down to it, the problem is fear. 

Fear can be a crippling, stifling, cruel beast if you give it too much power.  I have no idea why my tendency is to submit to it, but I’ve reached my limit. 

It has been really, really tough. 

Here is what I am going to do about it.

I’m going to talk about it. Both to you all, because you deserve to know about all the mind-bending wonder you might encounter through the weight-loss process, and to someone who’s a pro.  I think it would be good for me, especially if I can find someone who's talked to people going through the weight loss process.  I’m going to make a conscious decision to do the opposite of what my fear is saying in hopes that, eventually, I’ll have ignored it enough to have overcome it.  I’m going to create a structure for better managing my time, my budget, and my work. I’m going to track my food more meticulously for the time being.  I’m going to create a new list of goals and desires to strive towards.

As someone said to me recently before I set off on a cold walk alone in the rain, “Everybody’s gotta be a big girl sometime…”  And it’s about that time.

Love & do. And don't stop.

I wanted to remember something, so I grabbed my little cork notebook that I carry with me at all times. I suppose it's a journal, but for some reason I have an aversion to the word "journal." It's full of thoughts; sometimes a word, sometimes a few pages.

I opened it up and came across this. I really needed to remember this today, and thought I'd share with you.

You are great. You are unique. You are special. And the same applies to you.

Progress and preparation!

I'm looking to let go of a whole lot of clothes. Some in person, some on eBay! I'll keep you all in the loop. I have a lot of great barely/never worn shoes, winter coats, great jackets, skirts, tops, belts, accessories - you name it.

I couldn't help but smile at this moment below while organizing... Progress is great, but I really do miss some of my stuff. It's certainly a nice problem, though.

Here's the thing: whether we are 125lbs or 325lbs, we all deserve to feel good, look good, and have fun with fashion. I just so happen to have had a bit too much fun at times! So if you need some new duds, I may be able to help.

More details headed your way soon!

Run, Sarah, Run.

Tonight, I ran.

The forecast said rain.  Dusk had already set in.  But, something about getting caught in the midst of what will most likely be the last warm, rainy deluge of the season just sounded enchantingly refreshing.  IPhone in Ziplock baggie (yeah, makeshift waterproofing...), Tanlines in earbuds, I set off.

I hit record on my my MapMyRun app, and set off walking to Green Grass by Tanlines (which I have listened to at least 30 times today - no exaggeration).  Then, I started running.  What felt like about 2 minutes later, I heard the lovely voice from my app tell me, "Time:  Eight minutes and three seconds.  Distance: 1.0 miles."

Ehhhhh...  That can't be right.  I'm restarting this app...  Yeah, that can't be right.  Do over.

So, I started recording my run over again.  This time?

Lovely-app-lady voice:  "Time: Seven minutes, thirty seconds.  Distance: 1.0 miles."  She said the pace and whatnot, too, but I just couldn't believe it.

Me:  "WHAAAAAAAA?!!!  NO way..." and decided to push myself a bit.

The next mile was under 7 minutes.  So, I kept running until I heard her say, "Time:  Twenty-nine minutes, 23 seconds.  Distance:  4.0 miles."

In the middle of the sidewalk just outside of the Kalamazoo Institute of Arts, I exclaimed, "HAAAAAAAAAAAAA!  HECK yes!"  Surely, everyone walking out of the museum exhibit there tonight could hear the lovely woman's voice giving me such delightful news in my ear, too...  I actually felt myself accidentally smiling at this elderly man as I walked by as though he should be really excited for me, too.  Ah well.  Worst case scenario, he'll think I'm weird.  Best case scenario, he'll get a chuckle out of it.

Forgive the rambling - I am writing this while post-run endorphins are in full effect.

Part of me wanting to keep going - just because.  Why not?  I'm feeling up for it.  And then, like a kind little nudge saying to be happy with what I'd done but not push too hard, the rain began.

Point is:  I ran 5 miles in about 38 minutes, and this is something I never imagined that I would be able to do. Little by little, I'm improving.  Push a little harder.  Run a little further.  You will be happily surprised.

Update:  I'm thinking my app was totally off.  I did some figuring, and it was really more like 45 minutes, but I am still pleased as punch with that!

I can fly.

By the seat of my pants.

Over the first big hump and giant fall on a rollercoaster.

Off a diving board.

Through my favorite online shops in .2 seconds flat and pinterest the heck out of them.

Through 2lbs of raw green beans in 30 minutes flat.

And out the side of a mother-loving plane 13,000 feet up.

People...

So much has been up in the air.  My living situation, my job changing yet again, plus all the magic, random, greatness summer throws at you 794 times a week; all of these have made for a few months of so very much uncertainty, and a scrambling-frazzled-slightly-kookoo Sarah.  It's all I've talked about!  Because: it's true.  

In the midst of a run a while back, I got a call from one of my nearest & dearest who was having a rough evening due to some general douchebaggery that she had, unfortunately, experienced.  After calming down my inner rage-monster (don't mess with my loves, and don't keep me from working out - I go green and play with SUV's like they're Tonka Trucks), I met up with my friend, and a pretty grand opportunity arose.

Her:  "Wanna go skydiving?"

Me:  Instant elation, mental image of running and jumping out of a plane at full bore, intense desire to do it immediately.  And then I used my word(s)...

"YES!!!!!!!!!"

I've never had an intense desire to skydive, but as soon as this opportunity presented itself, it was done.  I was smitten with the idea.  I could not wait until the moment I got to jump out of a plane, and this mental video clip, of sorts, just kept replaying in my mind of me sprinting unreservedly out of a plane with the biggest grin on my face ever.  It was done.

As soon as we got there, I saw this guy.  He was nutty.  He was loud, hilarious, rough around the edges, and looked like he'd be a whole lot of fun and/or trouble.  So, when I heard him say, "ALL RIGHT - which one of you's SARAH?!" I was pleased.

I kept waiting for the moment when I'd get nervous or have second thoughts, but it never happened.  They even had to make us wait to resolve an issue with the plane, and that made me even more excited.

Fast forward past some coffee, great tunes, and watching others make it back to planet earth a few times to me, dangling out in mid-air, strapped to the chest of Crazy Todd.  My eyes are closed, yes, but it was a moment of happiness, I assure you.  

The butterflies that accompanied the initial drop were unreal. That moment of dropping straight down, feet first, was one of the greatest feelings I have ever experienced.  Falling.  Just falling...

I've felt a bit like I've been falling all summer - having jumped off of something with no bottom in sight, no person strapped to my back ready to pull the cord for me, and a frenzied, flailing, rather ungraceful fall.  I've been so concerned with seeing what I'm about to come careening down into, that I've neglected taking in the view of all the great things that have happened along the way.

Before I jumped, I had a chat with another one of the divers who worked there.  He asked how I was feeling about it, and I let him know that at this point, my only emotion was thrilled anticipation.  He gave me some great advice: no matter what, do not look down.  It wasn't that it's scary to look down, but he said, "Why bother staring at the ground, when all of the good stuff is straight ahead?"

So I took his advice.  I checked out the landscape a few times, but I spent what felt like an hour watching the skyline.  I watched as I grew closer to the clouds and then blew right through them.  I watched as the skyline faded into a slightly lighter blue.  And I smiled.  I smiled so much my face hurt when it was over.

Was it scary?!

What about the whole you-could-die thing?

Why?

No.
I didn't think of that...  I really didn't.  There was a pro stuck to my back, and all I wanted to do was run and jump and fly.
Why not?  

It was so quiet.
It was so peaceful.
It was magical.
It was absolute bliss.

The combination of being out of control yet completely at peace with the moment was just...  Correct.  I can't think of another word.  It was right.

Learning to be at peace with where you're at is something that I've been trying to learn for a long time.  During one of the key moments in my life, totally disconcerted and depressed with life as it was, my Dad told me, "Sarah.  You will not be able to progress until you are at peace with where you're at."

This is something that has come to mind more times than I can possibly recollect, and has been a bigger lesson than what I could have imagined.

So, what now?  Instead of feeling as though life is currently an ungraceful, frenzied, frightening fall with nothing but uncertainty and an impending rocky abyss awaiting to meet me, I'm going look ahead.  I'm going to remind myself that while I may be in mid free-fall, I need to take in the view and appreciate everything that's going on right in front of me.

I gave myself some time this summer to take a break and remember what it's like to live without being so overly control-freaked-out that I missed out on life.  I ate things I shouldn't have.  I drank things I shouldn't have.  I went places and did things at the drop of a hat.  While it was great, I've also been guilt-ridden the whole entire way. We'll talk more about this soon.  But, what do I have because of my giving in a bit?  Some amazing memories and life lessons, including learning to realize that the difference between falling and flying is as simple as putting my chin up.



Even if my face looks like this:

PS - Don't even pretend you haven't used "Pinterest" as a verb, too.  

Little Victory

Sometimes, I see an article of clothing that belongs to me and just can't believe that it's mine. How is it possible that I fit in that? I don't see myself as I was, but I still can't quite fathom what I am, either. Perception is a funny thing.

I remember when the drying rack wasn't wide enough for my shirts. My clothes stay on hangers now... Oh, the little things.

SWEATY BEATS!

An installment of Sweaty Beats is well overdue.

What music has you kicking fat's miserable little bum these days?  I am a strange creature with music running through my veins and brains nearly 100% of the time.  I usually wake up with a song stuck in my head.  I often dance around the office while getting things done if I'm alone.  I dance around my house unabashedly singing along, and have a strange tendency to do things on beat.  Putting dishes away to music?  Yup - on beat.  Walking to my bathroom?  Same.  I have a playlist for both walking and using the elliptical machine, and yes - I do them on beat.  I even chew gum on beat.  I love to work out, but when a song moves me, it gives me a boost like almost no other.  Combine that with espresso, and it's dangerous.

Call me crazy if you will - it's how I roll.  

And here is what has kept me rollin' in the gym...   Please enjoy these 10 gems that I absolutely can not get enough of lately.  

1.  This Must Be The Place - Talking Heads

2.  Damaged Goods - Gang of Four
3.  Tryouts for The Human Race - Sparks (My favorite for the last month BY far.)
4.  Yeah (Crass Version) - LCD Soundsystem
5.  Hey Boy Hey Girl - The Chemical Brothers
6.  Heart of Hearts - !!!
7.  Champion Sound (Alt. Version) - Crystal Fighters
8.  Ready to Start - Arcade Fire (I can't get sick of this album, The Suburbs.)
9.  Date with The Night - Yeah Yeah Yeahs
10.  Chains of Love - The Dirtbombs
11.  Disarm - Smashing Pumpkins (Good pace, but slowin' down. Classic.)


You know I can never choose just 10...  I am utterly shocked no 60's music made it in.  There are plenty more, so keep an eye out on twitter or the facebook page for when the spirit moves me while working out and I post a goodie or two on there.

Happy working out!  Kick some bum.

Somebody got a smart phone...

Me. Yes, me. I finally have an iPhone. And in homage, here are some photos that have been apped up the wazoo.

Last night, I made the light eggplant parmesan again for the family, and it turned out awesome. Hard pressed to find anything non-awesome with it when it's less than 250 calories for a big serving and has homemade red wine tomato sauce... Naturally, dessert followed care of my dear friend Krista - Snickerdoodle ice cream sandwiches that were a dream.

Coming soon: a recipe for amazing personal pizza, and my elated face 13,000 feet up in the sky.

Mystery Workout Gadgetry

A while back, I decided to start trying random things around the gym for which I absolutely could not tell their intended purpose.

After a bit of awkward staring at people while they used the mystery gadgetry to try and scope out what it is they did with said enigmas, I've tried a few out.  My favorite so far?



I use this...                                         to do this...                                    while holding this against my chest.

I feel pretty fierce every time I do it.  I do 3 sets of 15, 3 ways - first to the center, then turned to the right, then turned to the left, totaling 90 reps.  If need be, I sometimes I take a break and put the weight down for a set.  It works my back, bum, calves, back of my thighs, and my obliques remarkably well.  It always leaves me satisfyingly sore the next day.

My challenge for this evening: to conquer that again, as well as to plank for 3 minutes.  But, instead of my usual routine which consists of 1 minute of planking then 30 seconds of rest repeated thrice, I'm going to do do 1 minute 30 seconds with 45 seconds of rest twice.

Any new, interesting things that  you all have tried lately?  

My week of getting back on track is a success so far!  Granted, I'm only 1.5 days into it, but it's going well nonetheless.  

I hope your week is going well, too!  

YO. Reality Check (one two, what is this?!)

So, you remember that on and off switch I mentioned a while back?  Well, I know I said that I was ready to turn the whole weight loss thing up a notch because I've been too casual about it lately.

That hasn't happened yet.  

Time for some honesty, people.  When I go quiet, it's because I'm ashamed.  And here is why.

I've been burning the candle from both ends and then once it was out, picked up the wax, melted it, stuck a piece of yarn in it to try and reuse it as a candle until eventually I was out of light and had acquired a pointless ball of waxy stuff.  I burned myself out, but it's been fun.  Downside?  I'm back up to 196lbs, peoples.  I was down to 188, but I've had a complete lack of self-control with food in the midst of all the fun I've had.  

I made myself take a break from freaking out and being so obsessive over losing weight.  I needed to lighten up and do a bit of living.  The problem is, I let myself go a little too far.  SWITCH - off.  I had such a good balance going around the beginning of July and got down to 188, but then started finding comfort in food when a lot of life changes began overwhelming me a bit.

What do do you when life comes at you from every which way?  I've freaked out a little bit, which I'm sure you can tell looking back at my more recent blogs.  Finding balance, questioning things, feeling defeated, losing focus - these things happen.  But, it sucks.  I got it together for a little while, but I'm still a bit flustered.  

In an effort to regroup, I've been reading up on some of life's biggest stress-causers.  Change, even great change, can throw you for a loop!  I'm still in mid-loop-throw, it would seem.  But, a good chat with your parents, some organization, and structure go a long way.

So, unless it involves some sweet, old-school hiphop, no buggin' out necessary.  

When it's my turn, I'll bring your shoes...

In a few hours, I'm going to meet my family at a little lake in a small town not too far from here.

A few months ago, my Uncle passed away.  He was an awesome man.  He was a lovely human being, a cool Uncle, was as goofy as the rest of us, could tell a story a mile long (a few times...), loved the outdoors, loved music, and loved us.

They have a little cottage on that lake I'm going to visit tonight, and this is the first summer we've been there without him.  It was bizarre, but it felt like he'd just taken the kids out for a ride in the boat and wasn't back yet.  And then, I caught a glimpse of a silly thing.

I thought, "Oh - his shoes..."  Then, I remembered those were my dad's.  The guys loved these shoes.  My brother got them, then so did Dad.  Then, Jim did, too.

And then I remembered, "Wait.  No.  Those aren't his shoes..."

And it hit me.

My Aunt gave me a hug and told me that my Uncle was so very proud of me and would have loved to tell me so himself.  The way she said it, I could just see him, pleased as punch, knowing that I'd made this huge change in my life.  Allowing myself to really live.  It's been great, and I know he was proud.  He was when he saw me at 40lbs lost, and I know he'd have been just as delighted at nearly 130lbs lost.

Tonight, his ashes are going to one of his favorite places; this quaint little lake where we all have years of great memories with him.

It feels good to know that I made him proud.  I'm going to miss him.