Life

I got called out (and I totally deserved it)

| cheriarmour

It started a few days ago, when a nude picture of Amy Schumer started circulating around the internet.

via CNN Style
via CNN Style

One of my initial thoughts upon seeing the picture was, “that is not flattering at all. Just, why?”

I immediately hated myself for thinking that, and tried to pretend, every time I saw the picture circulated again, that I didn’t think that the photo was unflattering, or that I’d be too embarrassed to let the world see my tummy rolls.  But it sat in the back of my head.

I fought with myself over that picture.

And then, the other day, when I was at a pretty rigorous training, I spied a tall woman wearing a bright pair of leggings.  I immediately checked out her bum, because that’s what I do, and was less-than-impressed.  I sent a snarky comment about the leggings and the bum to the group chat, and put my phone away.

Thank God for good friends.

I thought the comment was sort of funny, and the others would share in my laugh, but instead, a friend of mine in the chat pointed out to me that not only was what I said unkind, but that the comment made her question what sort of things I might be saying about her and her body.

I was a little blown – of course, she had to understand the comment was meant to be funny, right?

But was it?

And 30 seconds into me trying to rationalize my wretched comment, I realized that she was completely correct, and that I’d made a mistake.  A big, mean, nasty mistake.

The woman’s leggings were not affecting me in the least.  They didn’t take away from my workout.  Her body was a strong, healthy, functioning body.  So why, oh why, for the love of all things holy, had I felt the need to snark?

Because I don’t always feel 100% about myself, and I was picking apart in her, the things I don’t love about myself.

I’m preoccupied with my stomach – it’s the first place my body will let me know that I’ve gained weight, and I feel like I’m the only woman in the world who gets the donut when she’s wearing a bikini and bends over.  (I know, in theory I’m not, but stay with me).  My butt has grown since I’ve started lifting heavier.  Though I’m tall and thin, sort of that ecotmorphic shape, I have wild stretch marks on my thighs that have been there so long that I almost don’t notice them any more.  My boobs are bigger than I’d like, and I take care to hide them – I was actually (very kindly) told by a photographer for the Y recently to put my boobs away when they’d escaped my top.

And THIS is why I pick other women apart.  Because, in a really fucked-up way, I pick myself apart, and when other’s don’t abide by my rules of what’s flattering or what’s sexy, I can’t handle it.

And that’s not right.

I’ll conclude by saying I’m disturbed by my behavior, but that I know I can be better, I know I can change my thinking, and I plan on starting like yesterday.  And in making a pure, concerted effort not to pick part the bodies of others, I will start to forget those little things about myself that are, in my mind, less-than-perfect.

Thanks for reading.

X

Currently

| cheriarmour

I borrowed this from Becca Dorr, but I thought it was a good way to catch up from the holiday weekend.  That was filled with way too  much eating, and way too much stuffing.

ANTICIPATING 2016.  We’re not far off, and I just am ready to make some things happen on some things that have been stagnant.  Or not stagnant, but things I’m ready to move on.  I’m still working on our house, need to hang things, and change colors around, and I’m just ready for it.

CLEANING my innards!  I ate way too much gross stuff for Thanksgiving, and it was good, but it also feels good to eat a salad and drink a few smoothies.  I’m not used to eating that much, and at that frequency.

DREADING cold weather.  I know it’s coming.  I’m not sure I’m ready.  In fact, I know I’m not ready.

DRINKING Michelob Ultra.  Everyone makes fun of me, but I got into it when I was back at camp in Pennsylvania, and started to enjoy the taste.  That and vodka are my two nostalgic, Pennsylvania drinks.

FEELING kinda fat.  Thank you, Thanksgiving.  Lots of green things this week.

LISTENING to Khloe Kardashian read off the back of a Jif label.  #KUWTK

PLAYING “Love Yourself – Justin Bieber” on repeat.  That song is gorgeous, and I hear that Ed Sheeren wrote it.  Me and my friend Mollie have done some wild speculation on who it could be about.  Hailee Steinfeld is the frontrunner, and she said something sort of weird at the AMAs last week.

READING ok, technically listening, but I am listening to Aziz Ansari’s book.  I’ve always been into his humor.  I find it interesting because I met my husband prior to Tinder and online dating being a thing, so I never had that experience of dating in the modern age.  But I did have the experience of sort of texting…and waiting, or flirting via Facebook chat, or being on the other end of trying to ignore someone.  So I find his take really interesting.

RECOVERING from food-fest 2k15.  I know I’ve referenced this a lot, but I really don’t feel great.  I hate overdoing it.

TRYING to plan workouts and food for this week.

WAITING for my big student loan payment to come out :/ I will be so glad when I’m done with that mess.  I feel like I’m in prison paying these loans.

WALKING the dang poodle to the door so she will go to the bathroom outside instead of in the house, which she likes to do when it rains outside.

WEARING nasty workout clothes.  I did a two-fer today – went for a hike with a friend this morning, then a short track workout this evening, so I  kept the clothes on and I totally reek.

What are you reading this week?

What Koh taught me.

| cheriarmour

I hope you guys had a great Thanksgiving.  I went to Charlotte to have Thanksgiving dinner at my mother-in-law’s house, and spent a few days hanging out.  I’m actually writing now from the kitchen table in her house!

So, Thanksgiving day, I manged to not do a ton of damage – I ate a good bit, but broke up the day with a lot of walking, so I didn’t feel AS slobby as I could have, but nevertheless, I went ahead and poked around on some of the local Y sites to see what classes they were running on Black Friday.  I stumbled across a super familiar name – Koh – for Zumba, and immediately set my alarm so I could go to hear class on Friday morning.

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If you sorta remember that name, it’s because I ran into Koh at DCAC, and she was the first person in the history of the world that I ever took Zumba with. I went Zumba->get licensed->teach at State->teach at camp->decide I wanted to do something with my life that involved group fitness->the Y, which I love, so as I planned to go to this class, the weight sort of started to hit me, that all of this was coming full circle.

I got to the Harris Y, about 30 minutes from Sharon’s house, about 10 minutes before class started.

First, as an aside, the Harris Y is the most monstrously huge Y I have ever seen in my life. And I’m very familiar with Siskey. But this Y had a separate building for youth programs, and the grownup side kinda seemed like a small city. But in a good way, because the guy in membership who helped me come in and get settled was absolutely as sweet as pie.

Anyhoo, I got to class, and once we got started, I felt completely in my element. Koh really likes to pump her music, so once you got into each of the songs (that she ended on a pose, mind you), it was sort of like being lost in your own fitnessy world. I smiled, clapped, and at one point when we were dancing salsa, she pulled me to the front of the room with a few folks, smack-dab in the middle, to dance, while she attended to the other side of the studio.

I left that class sweaty, happy, and ready to go for a little longer. In fact, we were able to convince her to let us repeat a Michael Buble song because we’d all enjoyed it so much and felt like we could do it better than we had the first time. So she obliged!

I think the cool thing about returning to a teacher that you went to way back is that you begin to remember how it feels to be a student, and you remember the subtle nuances that you’d like to incorporate into classes to make people feel as good as your instructor is making you .

Koh Taught (still teaches!) me:

  • Be happy.  Every movement she hits, Koh acts as if it’s the most wonderful thing she has ever done.  This spreads to the class.  Maybe it’s a complex movement.  Maybe not.  Maybe it’s really really silly and might look a little funny.  She still executes it with the best attitude ever.
  • Keep it simple.  Koh is great.  BUT, she waves her wand over the classes, and it lets you know that you don’t have to be the best dancer for this class to work its magic on you.  But just in case you do want to be the best, she communicates through really really simple movements.  Things are logical – a move for the verse, a move for the chorus, and a move for the bridge.  No real rocket science there.  But it works!  So no one feels like an idiot in class because things are SO ridiculously easy to follow!
  • It’s not about you.  I’ve phrased this 60 million different ways irl and on the blog.  And I’ll say it some more.  But there is no one on earth more entitled to a big fat head than someone like Koh, who was a master presenter for Zumba® Fitness for a long time.  Her classes are consistently packed.  She could regard it as the Koh Experience.  But instead, she has made it so that you leave the class feeling like you were the star.  She’ll dance with students.  Point out when someone is doing awesome.  Allow the veterans to lead class for a little while.  Mingle during.  And generally, make it an unspoken point to communicate that she’s here for your workout, not her own.

Of course, I totally wanted more after because I was just buzzing with excitement, but I checked the schedules of the 3 Ys around, and there’s nothing super interesting going on.  Which means I’ll have to bite it and actually pay for a class and run tomorrow instead of getting into a class at the Y.

And with all that sweating, I’m not absolutely terrified to look at a scale sideways on Monday.

How did you stay fit this Thanksgiving?

Birthday goals

| cheriarmour

It’s been almost a week since my 28th birthday, and per usual, it’s been one of the craziest weeks ever.  We went to a Friendsgiving, wrapped up the Annual Campaign after raising $1.4 million dollars ($1.4 million?!), and generally, didn’t get a minute to ourselves.  I mean seriously, I fell asleep on the couch twice this week and my hubby had to come get me and tell me to come to bed.

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So in this week, and in thinking about what 28 means, and what I want to accomplish in this year.  And after having sushi with a friend who told me he likes to set 4 goals each birthday, I decided to do the same, and hold myself accountable for each of those goals.

So here goes, 4 goals for my 28th year of living. 

  1. Get my personal trainer certification.  It’s something I feel will make me a better teacher.  I don’t necessarily want clients, lord knows that there may not be enough hours in the day for that, but anything to make me a better and stronger, I think is worth going for.
  2. Begin some real work on a book.  It is my dream to be the black Bethanny Frankel – to write a book on black women, and their health and fitness.  Maybe my first book won’t be that, maybe it will be a guide to dating, or something fun and syrupy, but I know I’m destined for it.  I don’t know why, but I just know.  Plus I need that advance so I can pay down my student loans.  (Just kidding! Kinda…)
  3. Utilize my time more efficiently.  This is something I’ve really been striving for, but I’m not great at.  That’s sort of an abstract concept, but that means squeezing the most out of every moment I can and limiting distractions.  I don’t think there’s anything wrong with a lazy Sunday, but I don’t want every night when I come home from work to be a flop down on the couch kind of night.  I don’t have time.
  4. Do something creative every day.  I do my best when I’m given the chance to do something creative every day. Whether that means going to Home Depot and picking out colors, picking out linens, painting, writing (even if it’s just 100 words), or READING, I will be doing this each day.
  5. Okay, and I had to sneak a 5th one in here.  I would like to start saving more.  I’m starting with an EXTREMELY modest goal of $500, which means I only have to put $41.67 in a separate account each month.  But on top of this, I’d like to put all my checks from Aradia into this account.  The amount varies depending on how much I work, but the reason why this is hard/important is that I usually like to take that Aradia check and do fun things with it.  But it’s time to let that go.  I’m really competitive, even if it’s just with myself, so I’d really like to push.  Additionally, I’m toying with the idea of “tipping” myself for every workout I do.  I’m not sure how much, but I’m playing with  the idea of tipping myself 10% in dollar amount for the minutes I’ve worked out.  So $3.00 for a 30 minute work out, $6.00 for an hour workout and so on.

What’s ONE of your goals for the next year?  

Stevie Wonder part trois!

| cheriarmour

This weekend, I celebrated my 28th birthday.

The weekend was absolutely bananas though, and it’s not entirely my fault.

So months ago, I got an email from Loretta Bates’ assistant to see if we’d be willing to schedule a training on the weekend of November 14th.  Of course, right?  We have a great relationship, and I’d love to have Loretta at our facility for the Zumba B1 Training.

So then, I’d scheduled my Body Pump training for the weekend FOLLOWING.  (I did it again because I really haven’t used the skills from my first training).

Also, I got word that Stevie Wonder was going to be in Charlotte on the 14th. No worries, I can make this all work.

Well, long long story short, the Body Pump training was inexplicably moved back to the weekend of the 14th.  So on Saturday morning, I woke up early, set our folks up for the Zumba training, ran OVER to State to take the Body Pump training, got OUT of the training, and drove down to Charlotte to see Stevie wonder with my dad.

I was exhausted, but the concert was so worth it.  It started off a little – and I don’t want to say annoying because that’s not the right word – but it was a little nerve-wracking.  Because of the horrible tragedies in Paris on Friday night, security was really nuts, and we ended up standing in a HUGE crowd for a while before the concert started.  I actually tweeted the venue, and begged them not to start the show, and they didn’t.  I think that’s more on Stevie though.  [Before you start to think I’m really narcissistic, the reason why the security was nerve-wracking was because we were standing in a really antsy, quasi-angry crowd, and I was SO afraid of either being trampled, or something else horrible happening.  But perhaps that’s just my anxious mind speaking.]

But the show did not at all disappoint.  I think my favorite part was when…well dang.  I don’t think I can pick a favorite.  But I loved the feeling that I was completely lost in the music.  I could have stayed there all night, and not noticed.  But instead, I had to wake up around 4am, and head back to Raleigh to finish my Pump Cert.

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I think it was the love of Jesus that got me through Sunday. I rocked my tracks, passed the cert, and got one of the best compliments I’ve ever gotten in life.

I was told that I had a magnetic personality. Ugh. That makes me freaking tear up. I don’t know why. But it’s nice to hear nice things about yourself.

After I got home (and this is the actual day of my birthday), I poured a glass of wine, noshed on some chips and salsa, and laid down on the couch. Austin came in, sweetie pie that he is, and dropped off some more wine, some kombucha, and a really sweet card for me. But the sweet thing was that he let me SLEEP off the weekend, and sort of tiptoed around the house.

Later, he and my brother took me out to froyo, and later, dinner at a Coquette, a french place here.

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I’m not huge on birthdays, but it was so good, and it felt good, throughout the weekend, to be acknowledged. I think it’s really easy to sort of get down on yourself. My house is messy, I can’t get everything I want to get done done in a day, my clothes are rumpled – but it’s so so nice to remember that you’re enough.

You might not have seen Stevie Wonder for the 3rd or 4th time, but what did you do this weekend?

Why do you work out if you’re a fitness instructor?

| cheriarmour

First things first though, I can honestly say I had a new experience yesterday.  So, I was contacted by another group fitness director sort of out of the blue a few weeks back.

“Do you teach total body strength?”

I answered yes, and especially since I started taking on a regular Toning since I got my Body Pump cert last year, I feel super comfortable with the format.

What that ended up meaning is that I was signed up for a shoot for the association where I would have to teach a pretend class.  The BEST part about it though, was that since we don’t have the rights to any of the music, I  had to teach the class in silence, and they have to go back and dub the music in later.  So for 20ish minute, I danced and bicep curled and squatted to NO MUSIC.  The weirdest experience of life.

12208383_10100666199338163_938420875333157995_nI also was told by the photographer (very politely) to put my boobs away. I forget these things get out of control sometimes, and since I don’t necessarily want my boobs plastered on the January mailer, I’m appreciative.  I can chalk that up to a new experience.

Why do you work out?  You’re a fitness instructor.  Doesn’t your class just count as your workout?

Switching gears a little bit, but I get this question a lot.  Sometimes when I mention to folks that I’m going to try to sneak a run in or hop on the elliptical for a few minutes before I teach my class (after is usually no good for me), they ask why I bother.

It’s true, when I’m up there leading a class, I’m sweating, and I’m moving, but I promise you, it’s not the same as the workout the participants in the class are getting.  My energy is 100% fixed on facilitating a good, safe, fun class, and when your energy isn’t focused inward, you don’t benefit as much.

Secondly, and this one is the big one, as an instructor, we shouldn’t be relying on our 5:15pm Zumba for our workout because the class (I’ve said it before) IS NOT FOR US.  The purpose of you teaching should never be to get ripped, and honestly, if you rely on your class to get your exercise in, you’re doing yourself a disservice.

Fun fact: I was at my heaviest while teaching the most BALLER class every at NC State.  You have to do more.

What workouts have you done this week?  Try anything new?

I think I’m obsessed with the Chicago Marathon

| cheriarmour

I had a friend run the New York Marathon last weekend.  She did great, and with the app (which was awesome, btw), I was able to track her every step.  As she approached 26, and I knew that she only had the .2 to go, I felt my heart start to beat faster and faster as I replayed scenes from the last bit of the Chicago Marathon in my head.  When she finished, and her bubble disappeared from the tracker, I let out a sigh of relief – I hadn’t realized I was holding my breath – and shot her a quick text.  She was done, and she’d done it well!

As I chatted with her about how good she’d felt that day, I really got excited about the prospect of possibly doing Chicago again in the fall of next year.  As I was prepping for the race, I told myself that maybe I would hang the marathon shoes up, and run for enjoyment.  Get back to doing more yoga, cycling, and more hanging out with my hubs.  But there’s some part of me that’s dying for the experience of Chicago.

Blue skies.  One of my dearest friends of 5 years.  Food.  Drinks.  The Cubs winning things.  Texts from friends as I made my way through the course.  My husband telling me that I “look so good” 19 miles in.  I find myself absolutely consumed with the idea of running through the streets of Chicago, high fiving folks, reading signs, and flopping down in the grass in the park after I run.

I know I said I could be done after this one.

But I think I lied.

Diva Cuppin’

| cheriarmour

If you’re squeamish about periods and stuff, grow up um, perhaps skip to the end and I will put a picture of a cat in a cup so you don’t have to think about menses.

But for you ladies that are active and have a period, let’s chat the shedding of your uterine lining.

So, I was on the Mirena for a long, long time, and didn’t have a period.  When I got into discussions with other women about it, a lot of folks were really quick to let me know that they felt that there was no way that this could be healthy, which I internally rolled my eyes out.  I run like a million miles a day, eat rabbit food, and drink kombucha.  I’ll take no period, and hope I work out enough to offset the risk.  That they claim there is none of, but whatevs.

So after 5 years on the Mirena, the clock had run out, and I got the Mirena removed.  It came out about a million times easier than the insertion, and it came out without incident.  I had a little spotting, and then, a few weeks later, I had my first period in nearly half a decade.  It wasn’t fun, and it wasn’t pretty, and I found myself buying a fairly expensive collection of tampons, some scented, for the first time since camp.

I tried something similar to the Diva Cup some years ago, called Instead, with a lot of issue.  My friend Melanie suggested that I try that Diva Cup, as she had been practicing with it in prep for international travel, and tampons aren’t super easy to purchase OR store overseas.

I googled it, and got one from the Harris Teeter, and waited for my next period.

It took like 3 full cycles, and a lot of googling for me to figure out.  But I think I’m a fan of the Diva Cup!

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A few women I’ve told about it have been really skeptical, almost to the point of disgust as it pertains to a menstrual cup.  And then this somewhat ignorant article started circulating, and I realized that I needed to set the record straight regarding menstrual cups.

What are they?

They’re pictured above.  Instead of using a pad or a tampon, that absorbs blood, the idea is that the cup collects blood to be disposed of later.

Why?

For me, the menstrual cup was a good option because of a really heavy flow.  I had this issue as a teen, and it reappeared when I got my period again after Mirena.  My period is really heavy.  I’ve combated it with exercise and anti-inflammatories, but I was having a really hard time keeping a tampon in for longer than like 2 or 3 hours.  The Diva holds a bit more than the tampon does, and if you get it in correctly, you don’t get that terrible string leak that has ruined most of my good undies.  They also hold up well with and during exercise, and my tampons just weren’t doing that.

Growing pains. 

For one, you need to be completely comfortable with your vagina.  If you’re not, and you’re grossed out by it, that’s something that needs to change, or you’re in for a really rude awakening.  Vaginas are capable of a lot.  It’s not something to be weirded out by or ashamed of.  For me, that wasn’t hard to get past, but I read that some women are just grossed out by that.

Once you’re passed the vagina bit, you’re looking at this cup, and you’re not sure what to do with it.  You can read the instructions, but that’s just not fun.  Look at a few blogs, look at YouTube, and you will be just fine.

For me, without getting too graphic, I had to relax, like super relax, and sitting with my bum on the floor of my shower seemed to be the easiest and most comfortable.

Getting it out proved to be another area of learning for me.  You don’t just yank it out.  There is a little bit of wiggle involved.

And finally, the disposal of the thing is best done at home (in my experience).  It gives you a chance to remove, wash, and reinsert with little problem.  Of course, you can’t always be at home, and that’s been my largest struggle to date.  But it’s doable, and to me, I feel a little bit better now that I’m not spending tons of money on scented “sport” tampons, and I don’t feel gross and leaky all the time.

My verdict?

As an active woman who has struggled with a heavy period, I really needed a change.  Doing the Mirena again wasn’t really something I was super interested in – though we’re not super trying for kids, I want my body to do its own thing for a time, and go through it’s natural monthly cycle, which I’d love to talk about more in another post.

Hear me loud and clear.  I will never be one of those people who will post repetitive articles about how birth control is the downfall of humanity and blah blah – it did a lot of good for me, but now is not its time for me.

With that, comes my period, and for me, the Diva has been the most sustainable, least messy, and most collective option that there is out there.  If you’re skeptical, but looking for a way to manage each month I would really encourage you to check out Diva.

Questions?  Comments?  Thoughts on the Diva?

Here's the cat in the cup I promised!
Here’s the cat in the cup I promised!

Elon Homecoming.

| cheriarmour

I feel like…there are just not enough hours in the day.  I can’t be the only one who feels this way.  In fact, I know I’m not, because my mom tells me all the time that she needs more time to do stuff.  And I’m 100%, completely in agreement.

Anyhoo, moving right along.  My weekend.

So, the weekend started off furiously.  Because of a little hiccup at work, I had to pull together a Zumba/Cardio Dance party within a matter of like 5 days. and surprisingly, it came off without a single hitch.

So Friday at 6:30, we started, and danced literally for like two hours nonstop.  Surprisingly, coming off the heels of Chicago, I felt really good, and someone from the class even remarked they were surprised I was moving so well.  They clearly have not seen my thighs, which, as of 10/19/15, have not fully regained all the skin that used to be on them.  Dang chub rub!

Zumba/Cardio Dance Party
Zumba/Cardio Dance Party

So, bright and early on the next morning, I headed down to Elon to start homecoming. I’d skipped the step show the night before, which was probably for the best. Not because I hate step shows, but because that’s a lot of drinking on a Friday night of me. My first official Elon Homecoming event was an inaugural 5k through campus to show off some newer construction. Of COURSE I ran it, and at the finish line, I made some friends in a young couple, one of whom had attended Elon. We hit it off, and I somehow made friends enough that we were able to go freshen up in their hotel room (after we got all sweaty), hit the Food Lion and made it back in plenty of time to start tailgating. We heated up the grill, drank beers, and traipsed all over campus, eventually making it over to the Elon Black Alumni Networks’ tent for food, the Black Cultural Society tent where folks seemed to be hanging out, and eventually, Twisted Measure’s tent, where we had more beers and food. We hung out there until campus security had us wrap it up, and then we walked over to the Twisted Measure house, where we carved pumpkins, I took a nap, and we danced for a good portion of the night, with small breaks to visit others at different houses or parties.

Sunday, after something of a late start, I took some time for myself, without the noise and hustle and bustle of seeing tons of people you haven’t seen in forever, and walked around campus by myself. I went to the campus store, to an old sandwich shop I spent a lot of time in in school, and drove through town before winding my way back to Raleigh.

I know it sounds corny, but there is just something so special about seeing folks who knew you when you were a baby. Some of us are married now. Some of us have fancy jobs. Some of us have kids. And it’s so cool to see someone that knew you as a baby, see you when you’re just a little bit more sure and confident.

What did you do this weekend?