How was your weekend?

So for your personal enjoyment, I will share with you a few of the pics me and Kimmy went through after my brother’s graduation on Thursday night.

photo 2We were very active kids.  Animals in fact.  There were like two other pictures of us doing things on the swingset that are not OSHA approved.

photo 3That’s me in the mask,  I had a sore throat when my brother was born, so I had to wear this so I wouldn’t get the baby sick.

photo 4

Preciouso.

photo 5And lastly, my brother as a sheriff.  How cute right?

Anyhoo, so this weekend was really good.  I was not as productive as I would have liked to have been, but I got a ton of rest, and woke up Sunday morning almost at 10.  I have not done that literally in forevs.

Saturday, I went and checked out a performance of Marcus Anderson, a pretty sweet saxophonist (did I spell that correctly?!) The really cool bit about him is that I’ve been watching him for like 4 years when he came down to regularly perform where I worked in graduate school.  I have semi-fangirled him over the past few years, and now he’s playing with Prince.

tumblr_mi2qao3J2M1rdnvweo1_400Prince guys.

giphy

I need to get my life together.

From there, we headed to Buffalo Wild Wings in Cary where the female server treated us like garbage. But the dranks was poppin!

And from there, I had a semi-lazy Sunday.

We started the day off by binge-watching 3 episodes off Orange is the New Black, and then I cleaned, and topped off the day with some time in the woods on an almost 4-mile trail run.

photo 1And since you asked so nicely, here’s a pic of my poodle.  We were in full-cuddle mode, which includes me talking in strange voices.

How was your weekend?

 

 

Happy Father’s Day!

Today is Father’s Day, and I feel like such a turd because since we were all down for my brother’s graduation, none of us will be home for Father’s Day.  But in honor of the day, I will bring you an important story/memory I have of my dad.

DadThat’s my pops there in the middle.

So my dad is a really good person.  Like he always tries to do the right thing, and that has been very very deeply instilled in me, and is probably largely the reason I went into a helping field.

So years ago, like maybe 14 or 15 years ago, we were moving into a new house.

The movers were doing an awesome job, and stayed late into the night moving our furniture into our new house.  They were sweaty, and tired, and seemed to not know very much English, and their boss-man, a white guy, had left them to their own devices.

Debbie came to me and told me that she had witness one of the guys desperately drinking water straight from the faucet in my parent’s bathroom, and that when she entered, that he’d startled, and looked frightened, as if he was sure that he was going to be in trouble for drinking sink water from the faucet in a rich person’s home.

I told my dad what Debbie had seen, and he immediately drove to the nearest gas station, bought a ton of Gatorade, and asked the men to please have a seat and enjoy something to drink.

As a young teen, for whatever reason, this small act of kindness made a big impression on me.

I certainly never felt like we were any better than the men moving our furniture, and my dad confirmed it for me.  The guys were hot and thirsty and scared to communicate it to us, so he took the bull by the horns and made sure that they were taken care of, and then sat with them.  To me, it communicated a few things.

  • Be kind…
  • …’Cause everyone gets thirsty
  • You never know when you will be thirsty
  • And you’re not better than anyone else.

A simple lesson, but it has stayed with me forever.

Happy Father’s Day to all the dads out there!

My baby brother graduated yesterday + healthy nachos.

As you’re reading this, my ass has been out on the trail, to work, and is currently dashing to Charlotte to see my little brother graduate.

I’m not sure what to say, cause I remember when he was born and now he’s graduating high school, and I cannot even.

I drove down to Charlotte on Thursday, but not after first noticing that I was sunburnet from a trail run early this week.

photo 1If you ever have awkwardly asked a black person why they wear sunblock, or if they can tan, here is your answer.  A resounding hell yes!

So I made it down to Charlotte just in the nick of time,  but not before my dad sent me this to take us down memory lane..

photo 2This, folks, would be my brother on his first day of kindergarten.  I can barely stand it!

photo 3This is the bro, getting ready to graduate!

photo 4And this is us, after the ceremony.

He did great, and we were all so proud of him.  And we followed the big day with a visit to the local Ihop to celebrate his big achievement.  My brother’s favorite spot is Ihop, and he we had to give the man what he wants.

After such a huge accomplishment, once we got back to my parent’s house, we were all in a very nostalgic mood, and it all summed up to us looking at a bunch of old family pictures.  For your viewing pleasure, I will share with you this…

photo 5No idea.  No idea.  Thank you god for my adult face coming in.

Let’s switch gears for a minute.

Who likes nachos?

So a food that I’ve sort of struggled with is nachos.  I love nachos like a ton, but they’re not particularly easy to fit into your plan, especially when you’ve suffered from gastritis.  Nachos + an inflamed stomach lining don’t get along particularly well.

So, The Hungry Runner Girl posted a recipe for healthier nachos, and they weren’t particularly terrible.  Actually, they were pretty good, so I’m gonna share with you!  If you’re looking for a better way to do nachos….

photo 1 (2)Start with two baked potatoes.  Slice em up, and layer a teensy bit of olive oil, salt, and pepper on top.  Stick them in the oven for 30 minutes (my oven was a little overzelous, so make sure you keep tabs on how the potatoes are smelling).  Pull them out, and add 1/4th of a cup of low-fat mexican cheese blend, and pop the potatoes back into the oven.

Melt them for about 4 minutes at the same temp.  Once they’re done, add avocado, some beans and some corn, and a few jalapenos.  You’ll end up with these…

photo 2 (2)It’s kinda like nachos, but less fried.  A solid, solid recipe, without the terrible stomachache after.

What are your plans for this weekend?

 

Anyone else do this?

I woke up yesterday morning, and the left side, in the bottom of my back felt…crunchy.

I know that’s a really weird way to describe it, but it felt like I crunched something between lifting and between teaching a class the day before.  I played with the idea of still going out with some of the girls  from  Lululemon for our Wednesday workout, but by the time I went home and took two Advils, it was pretty clear that it was just not going to happen.  I was exhausted, and the slightest bit of tension on my lower back was killing.

And then the irrationally anxious part of me started to rear its rude, ugly head.

//What if I’m really injured?

//What if I never run again?

//What if I magically, in the time where I don’t work out today, start drinking Cokes, eating Twinkies, and generally stop caring about my health.

And then the rational (ish) side of me kicks in.  You pulled a muscle in your back lifting.  It happens.  Take a day off.  And reassess in the morning.

Am I the only one who gets weird like this? 

I want to get my boobs done.

Let me back up.

I feel pretty confident in what I have going on.  Often, as I’m getting ready, I’ll hit ’em with one of these.

dancingBut one area that I continue to be concerned about on and off for years now is my boobs.

Prior to losing some weight, my breasts were 100% out of control, and they were the source of a lot of physical pain and embarrassment.  My back killed all the time, and I felt embarrassed in my clothes.

308_531833140143_7264_nI actually wore this bikini with a rash guard at all time to keep the boobs under control.

As I lost weight, I lost boob, which was a relief, especially to my back.   But for someone my size, I still have a lot going on, and sometimes I play with the idea of getting my breasts reduced and lifted.  At this point I feel like they’re a little big on my frame, I’d like them to sit higher (I mean may as well as I’m in there), and I’m a little sick of having to stuff myself into clothes.

On the other side of that coin, there’s the cost.  There’s the fact that I typically feel so in love with my body and the things that it can do.  And there’s the big looming question – do I really want to cut myself so I can fit into cheaper bikini tops?

What do you guys think about plastic surgery in general?  You don’t have to self-disclose, but if you’ve had it, please feel free to email me with how it went!

Evie’s Birth Story

Okay, so something that I’m starting to feel fascinated with is birth stories. It’s not necessarily that I’m in a place where I’m ready to have a kid, or that I’ve caught baby fever, it’s more that I’m fascinated by what the human body can do.  More specifically, I’m intrigued by what a woman’s body can do.  We can lift.  We can run.  We can have incredible boobs and incredible bodies.  And then we can create and birth life?  And then nourish the life with our bodies after?  It’s incredible.

More so, I’m intrigued by the different choices women have.  You can birth your baby in the hospital.  You can have the baby at home on your bed.  You can have the baby in a bathtub.  You can choose pain medications.  You can not choose it.  But at any rate, I find it really fascinating, and so today, I bring yo a special treat – my niece’s birth story!

Hey Chelsie (bridesmaid from heaven)! (Fun fact – Chelsie didn’t sleep a whole lot toward the end of her pregnancy.  When Evie was being born, I hadn’t gotten a middle-of-the-night text from Chelsie all evening, and I should have known something was up!  I opened up my Instagram, and there she was!)

EVIE’S BIRTH STORY

With everything that our family had been going through we were getting increasingly impatient for Evangeline’s arrival. We wanted more than anything for her to be healthy, but we were ready for her to come. Saturday, January 19th, Jimmy and I ran some errands and tried to get some last minute things done just in case, as I said, ” this was our last weekend just the two of us.” That night I ended up calling the midwife on call, Lisa, because I was having some bleeding. She told me Evie and I had nothing to worry about, and that it could possibly be a sign of early labor (Yay!), although there was no way to be sure. With this news I decided to get some sleep. Looking back I’m glad I did!

At 4:30 am I awoke to contractions I couldn’t sleep through. After having had lots of Braxton-Hicks for weeks, and spending hours the previous Wednesday timing them only for them to stop entirely, I knew this was different. I couldn’t sleep- due to discomfort and excitement- so I moved to the living room to watch television and try to be sure if it was finally really go time or not. Around 6 am the contractions became regular enough to warrant timing them. I was letting Jimmy sleep, but he woke up and realized I wasn’t in the bed and he came in to check on me. Was this it!? Still not sure.

We passed the time watching television and I did my best to stay hydrated. I ate when I was hungry, and though I couldn’t sleep I did my best to rest. Around noon things seem to be progressing regularly enough that it was time to alert the family and a few close friends. My mom hopped in the car and began the six hour drive to Nashville!

Things progressed somewhat slowly as I took a bath to relieve the pain and breathed through contraction after contraction. Jimmy was wonderful at reminding me to breathe and he let me lean into him with every surge. Eventually my contractions reached a steady five minutes apart and one minute in length for over an hour. It was time to call the midwife again. Now Erin was on call, the midwife who caught my cousin’s youngest baby. As she could easily tell (I suspect anyway) I was having regular contractions all right, but their intensity still had a long way to go. She told me to wait as long as possible to come in, and let me know she would inform the midwife coming on for night shift that she should expect me later on in the evening. More waiting… More intensity… Lots of time spent on a yoga ball and on my hands and knees on a yoga mat breathing and focusing trying to let my body do its job. Finally my mother arrives with my sister too! Such a nice surprise! I had wanted my sister to be there with me, but with two young children at home it hadn’t seemed possible.

Their initial arrival was a nice distraction since at this point I had been awake and contacting for 14 hours already. Soon I was reaching the point of discomfort that made the thought of enduring these contractions in the car less than ideal, and my mother and sister both felt that it was time to go to the hospital. Jimmy called the midwife for me, as I was now unable to talk through contractions. Shift change had occurred once again. The midwife on duty was Elaine, the only one at the practice I go to that I had never met. Figures, but at that point it didn’t really matter. I had known this was a possibility. Jimmy answered Elaine’s questions as my mom, sister, and I prepared to leave. Elaine asked if I wanted an epidural waiting for me, and Jimmy assured her that I did not.

The ride to the hospital is a bit of a blur. I think we hit all, or mostly all green lights on our way to Vanderbilt. We live just a few miles from the hospital so it didn’t take long. It was still before 9, so we expected to pull into the valet parking and stroll right into labor and delivery while a nice attendant parked our car. Not that night! The valet entrance was blocked and there was no one on duty! A quickly exchanged look of panic between Jimmy and myself and he circled the block to the other garage entrance. In moments we were in the correct garage and we even found a space to pull through so that my mom could park behind us. Standing next to the car while Jimmy, my mom, and sister gathered our bags to go inside seemed to take forever. Contractions in the cold, outdoor air were much more uncomfortable than in my nice warm home. I was still on my feet though, and glad to be at the hospital.

We took the elevator to the 4th floor where they were expecting me. Despite the fact that I had been told I didn’t need to preregister because I was “in the system” I found myself filling out paperwork and answering questions at check-in. No sense in complaining though, because that would only make it take longer. After the paperwork was done, they took me into triage where it suddenly hit me (and my sister who didn’t mention it until later) that they could realistically still send me back home if they thought my labor wasn’t active enough yet. The nurse went ahead and had me change into a gown and began monitoring the baby. At one point months ago I had thought I might like to labor in my own clothes. A close friend suggested a stretchy cotton fold-top skirt and a bikini top. This sounds lovely and almost cute, doesn’t it? Then you think about the process of labor, and particularly the number one thing that surprised me about labor- the amount of blood involved. I personally prefer to bleed on linens I’ll never see again so I went with the gown. Elaine the midwife came in soon after I arrived in triage. She introduced herself and though we had never met she put me immediately at ease. She is a kind, grandmotherly lady who obviously knows her craft from years of experience. I was in good hands. At last the moment of truth. It was time to check me. The previous Thursday I had been 1.5 cm dilated and 50% effaced. How much further would these hours of laboring have gotten me? I was thrilled to find that I was at 4 cm and 90% effaced and at -1 station! I would be admitted, but Elaine wanted me in more active labor. My IV port was placed (I am positive for Group B strep- 1/3 of people are- which meant that I had to receive intravenous antibiotics every 4 hours to protect the baby) and as I stood up to move to my delivery room I felt fluid drip down my leg. My water was leaking! We had actually arrived at the hospital at just the right time, because being GBS positive I was supposed to begin antibiotics as soon as my water broke.

My nurse, Mary (who was wonderful, despite calling me Celeste for most of my labor) took me to my room complete with hydrotherapy tub. I got my first dose of antibiotics and Mary monitored the baby. Then, at Elaine’s urging Jimmy and I walked the halls to try and help things progress a bit faster. I had to check in and monitor the baby every half hour, but we spent 3 hours walking while my contractions intensified. I was glad my mom had brought my yoga mat for me. I was able to labor on my knees and not be on the bare hospital floor. Around 12 am Elaine checked me again. Disappointment doesn’t begin to describe the way I felt when she told me I was still at 4 cm and only “a little thinner.” At this point I was exhausted and in so much pain. The newfound frustration wasn’t helping. Little did I know, Elaine told my family that 4-6 cm is usually the hardest, and once you get through that it’s much faster from there. But all I heard was Elaine suggest that I get in the tub and try to relax and open up. The warm water was a godsend! I was able to rest between contractions and even doze a bit. I got out of the tub to use the restroom (where I also spent a lot of time laboring) and ended up vomiting. I actually felt infinitely better after throwing up, but throwing up while having contractions is not pleasant… But when is throwing up pleasant? I returned to bed, now completely nude aside from blankets, where this time along with my next dose of antibiotics I received fluids since I has just undone all the drinking and hydration I had been working on keeping up with. Somewhere along the way I received some nausea medicine. It too was a godsend. It made me a little sleepy, so I was able to rest a bit more. At 1:45 Elaine checked me again. This time I had made some progress. I was at 5.5 cm. This is still not what I wanted to hear, but progress is progress. Again, Elaine suggested the tub to help my progress. This second trip to the tub was a bit different, as my pain had changed and I was feeling more pressure. At this point my entire entourage was exhausted. Everyone but Jimmy was asleep. I was in the tub and as comfortable as I could be, so I told Jimmy I would be fine if he took a walk down the hall and got some coffee. (He was so amazing during my entire labor. He deserved a few minutes to try to wake up and have a break.) At 4 am I was checked yet again and I was at 6.5 cm and the baby had moved down to 0 station. Almost to transition!

Now, everything that I had read told me that transition (7 cm to 10 cm) is the most painful and intense part of labor. This was not the case for me. I would consider going from 4-6cm to be much, much more intense for me. Be advised, I am NOT complaining. This was a pleasant surprise. At this point I was just ready to have my baby. Less pain than expected was a bonus! Somewhere around 5:45 am I told my mom that I felt the urge to bear down with each contraction. My mother in law jumped up and told me not to push and my mom went to get Elaine! Elaine soon checked me and told me I was at 9 cm. I had to learn to breathe through the contractions now so that my body would not involuntarily start pushing before I reached 10 cm (I was told that if I wasn’t fully dilated and I pushed prematurely I could end up causing my cervix to swell, thus reversing my progress). At 6:20, Elaine noted how hard I was breathing through the contractions, checked me again, and finally I was at 10 cm! It was time to push!

Suddenly I became very, very aware of the clock on the wall. 6:30- pushing. 6:45- Elaine wants me to change positions so that there is less stress on the baby. Now I’m pushing on my side. 7- shift change! Wait, what?! My wonderful nurse, Mary, and my midwife Elaine were leaving me! I could have been dramatic about this, but they explained they had to be back that evening for another night shift. They had been amazing, but at this point it was all up to me anyway. Enter new nurse, Angela, and new midwife (the same one I had seen at my last prenatal appointment), Melissa. Mary literally handed my right leg to Angela and Melissa took over setting up instruments for cutting the cord, etc. I later commented to Angela that the transition was incredibly seamless! Melissa soon had me move back from my side to my back for better leverage. Somewhere along the way someone got a mirror so I could observe my pushing progress. The only time in my entire nude labor that I felt self-conscious was when the NICU team (standard precautionary measure) came in unannounced and there was a male nurse among them. They realized they were still a bit early and immediately left for another hour or so (when they did return I only noticed one person peek at Evie- screaming on my chest- say, “Awww!” and then leave the room). All in all I pushed for a little more than an hour and a half. I will say that finally being able to actively do something productive was amazing. Pushing caused my contractions to not hurt. My skin stretching hurt, but being so close to meeting my daughter it didn’t matter. At 8:08 my beautiful baby girl finally made her way out. I’m still in shock, but I didn’t even tear. Watching those last two pushes in the mirror was the most amazing thing. Her head came out, and my contraction was over, but I wasn’t waiting any longer. One more push and her shoulders were out and the next thing I knew Melissa handed me my baby!

It was hands down the hardest thing I’ve ever done. That being said, I’m so glad that I did it! My beautiful, alert, healthy daughter was worth every second of it. Walking, unassisted to recovery felt triumphant. I had just had a baby without pain medicine. I’ll probably never run a marathon, but I had had my ideal birth.

20130329-103625.jpg

“I don’t have time to work out” – Let’s fix it!

I’m kind of the office freak.  I’m tall, thin.  I eat green things.  I sometimes pack workout clothes, and then head out around 4pm for a run.  Often a coworker will look at me in disbelief or disgust, and say something like, “I don’t know how you do it!  I don’t have the energy.  I just don’t have the time to work out.”

That line of…interrogation sometimes irritates me.  Usually it’s said with some judgement.  Some disbelief.  A little bit of mean.  And there’s this assumption that I just am some kid with oodles of time and that it’s easy for me to find the time to work out.  I get it.  I don’t have kids.  I’m young.  So maybe people assume that I’m just an idiot.

Well, fun fact.  I work my day job.  I also have jobs at 3 or 4 gyms where I teach classes.  I work at Fleet Feet Raleigh when they need.  And I blog.  Like a decent amount.  So I’m not just some idiot with time and time and time on my hands, I do actually have to work to sneak my workouts in.  And trust me, these days it’s always a sneak.

But if you’re interested in figuring out how in God’s name you’re gonna make some time to work out, allow me to at least offer you a couple of suggestions for good ways to sneak in the time for physical activity that we all need to maintain a healthy weight, healthy heart, and healthy mind.

work out

 

  • Are you a grad/college student?  Got a break between classes?  Even if it’s like only a 40 minute break, use that time to put on some running shoes, and walk/run.  A lot of times on Tuesdays my second year in graduate school, the only way I could ever get a workout in was to run between my second and third classes.  A lot of times it meant that I got to my last class sort of sweaty, but honestly, I probably wasn’t going to show up to that class looking cute anyways so it all worked out.
  • If you’re into this, wake up early.  I truly hate to wake up early.  I do it two or three times a week now for a Body Pump/Body Attack class, and the waking up part of it is literally the worst thing ever.  I’m miserable when I first wake up, but I’m a happy gal by the end of it.
  • If you’re not an early bird, pack your workout stuff with you, and sneak out of the office when you can.  In my office, typically around 4 pm I can sneak out without anyone asking me too many questions.  I can come back, finish some work, and generally, no one asks me a question.
  • If you’ve missed the early morning, and you didn’t pack your workout clothes, do something after work.  For me, sometimes that means a run.  Sometimes a class.  Sometimes it means getting on my bike for a few miles and cranking it out.  But it makes me feel good, and as Austin says, it’ makes my dinner taste better 🙂
  • For the ladies with the kids, I understand how tricky this can be.  I honestly commend you for what you do.  And I’m not a mom, so I don’t want to overstep my bounds and give crazy suggestions, so I’m opening this part up to the moms – Mamas, how can you sneak your workouts in and keep yourself healthy and sane?  I’m really interested in hearing your thoughts on this.

So moms, kids like me – how do you sneak in your workouts? 

The 1800 Minute Challenge

I follow a really great chick named Erin at Living in Yellow.  Back in April, Erin challenged us to partake in her 1800 minute challenge, a challenge that entailed documenting 1800 minutes of exercise between April 1st and May 31st.
#1800MinuteChallengeThat number averaged out to about 30 minutes per day of working out, which for me, didn’t seem too hard, since I’m pretty active, but for this challenge, I focused on my old motto of sweating once a day (rather than relying on the fact that I was running for hours on end to carry me through the challenge) and I managed to complete the challenge with 2278.18 minutes, an average of about 37 minutes of activity a day.

The challenge was good for me.  I respond well to challenges, real or not, and I take them very seriously.  Last year, at this time, I was doing a streak, and something about the officialness (in my mind) of the streak, pushed me to continue running, even though in North Carolina it gets hot as hell, and staying active.

My activities over the 2k minutes included a lot of variety.  With me getting my Body Pump cert, I did a ton of Body Pump, some Body Attack, some trail running (cause it’s so crazy hot and humid here), as well as continuing to teach my regular Zumba class schedule.  The bod is looking good, and I want to keep it going so thankfully, Erin hooked us up with ANOTHER challenge, 1000 minutes in 30 days.  This time, the challenge has us averaging closer to 33 minutes a day, so I’m excited to see what I can do.

Anyone else in?

 

The big announcement (that wasn’t).

So, this is kind of a weekend recap.  But remember a few days ago, when I told you I might have a big announcement?

Let’s talk about it.

So this weekend, we did our first big kind of marriage-type decision making thing together.

We started house-hunting a little while ago, and the thought of having a home with my husband-to-be made me giddy.

I wanted something older.  He wanted something newer.  We both kind of wanted something inside of the beltline due to the fact that we simply just love that area.  And a few weeks ago, Austin emailed me a home by KB that was to be built in the area that we were looking in.  It was in our price range, and there was an option for it to be the perfect color.

2380 Y_sch9

And did I mention it was in our price range?

So we started the process to buy the home, and on Friday after work, we headed down to the office to sign the contract on the home.

…and then we backed out.

It wasn’t right. The home was starting to climb up in price, and as we looked at each other about to sign the contract, it became more and more clear that we were not doing the right thing.

The poor woman helping us was really disappointed – as we walked out of the office I’m sure she could see her commission disappearing, but we did what was best for us at the time.

So the big announcement that was to be is not. We were disappointed that we didn’t walk away with a home for us, but we hope to come back to you with an announcement sometime soon 🙂 Happy house-hunting to us!