BLIND

"For by the grace given me I say to every one of you: Do not think of yourself more highly than you ought, but rather think of yourself with sober judgement, in accordance with the faith God has distributed to each of you." - Romans 12:3

Dripping sweat after a monster workout at Crossfit yesterday, a woman approached me and introduced herself. This is very norm; our community thrives on being welcoming and warm. I shook her hand and then she started...

"You look really amazing. What do you eat? Paleo? Something else?" she asked.

It caught me completely off guard. Every time.

Now, don't get all nuts on me. I am very proud of the goals I've reached and the progress I have made and I am learning every day about my body. How to love it and respect it and train it and care for it.

But mentally...the improvements haven't registered completely. I forget.

Ya'll, he fell in love with me as a 29% body fat-having-cinder-block-Crossfitter. The picture on the right is THE DAY we met, December 24, 2013 at the 12 Days of Christmas WOD. What was he THINKING? Thank you Jesus, for this gift of a man. Please restore his vision. Yeah.

And this very situation reminded me of something important - how good it feels to share and help. I truly believe that is the reason The Bull and I were put on this Earth, with a Godly calling to help others and encourage.

So we chatted about nutrition and training and it was warm and fuzzy and I held in a completely inappropriate hug because The Bull was waiting and he dislikes when I make people and situations awkward, I do it so often. But as I got IV buckled in, threw my bag in the car and loaded up, I realized that the clarity comes from these moments.

You can do this for you. And you can do it for others too. There's balance in the process. Hand up, hand out.

I WONDER WHY YOU DON'T...

There is no finish line. 

We are surrounded with input that tells us there is: flat abs in 60 days. 90 days no payments. 30 pounds in 30 days.

This life is a journey, a series of opportunities and steps and they all lead to an eternal heaven and more joy than we could ever imagine.

But we have open doors every single day to experience. Feel. Believe. Grow.

Sunday afternoon, The Bull and I had a great little tabata row session and then did a run - ab mat - kettle bell swing - box jump ladder. As we kept pace, bantering back and forth about missed reps and how he was "just getting loose" on those first box jumps and that he can do 12 to my 4 (which is NOT true), I realized that this is the message I want to share.

The process IS the provision.

You can banter with your significant other while you're running and swinging a kettle bell. You can do pushups while your 6 year old rides you like a horse. You can watch Disney and have conversations about manatees and Octonauts while you're doing 45 minutes of fasted cardio in the morning. You can cook chicken and rice for your whole family and I promise that if you pair it with slices apples and PB or carrots and ranch, you do not have to cook separately for every individual.

Make it work, folks.

This is your team. Your team works together.

And you work this process, every single day, until you look up and boys are asking "is it Flex Friday?" and they turn down the Happy Meal, you plan for Rogue rigs in your garage, they slam baseballs into the outfield and you run races together and you have built a damn. fine. team.

I did Crossfit for an entire year and changed my body. And my attitude. Then I learned about nutrition and body building and my life absolutely LEAPT into the stratosphere. But it took a team. Support. LOVE. Encouragement. Patience. HELP. Because when you want to body slam someone for a Reese's, the wise man rubs your back and makes you a protein shake with additional PB2 and then cautiously hands it to you. And backs away.

Surround yourself with these people. And fly.

FOR THOSE

There are decisions to be made.

I'll just sum this up: that it is more important to me to live a life of experience with those around me, those that I love.

And it is not just about what's important to me. It is about what God calls me to do as a partner, a mother, a friend and a human.




The Bull and I did the "Murph" yesterday, first time for me. For those not in the cult Crossfit, the "Murph" is a workout done in honor or memory of a man or woman who paid the ultimate sacrifice for our daily freedoms. I have done many, nut never "Murph".

The workout is a one mile run, 100 pull-ups, 200 push-ups, 300 air squats, ending with a mile run.

We watched Lone Survivor the night before, the movie account of this true, epic tale of Navy Lt. Michael Murphy. The movie closed with images of these soldiers with their families and comrades, with babies, treasured hobbies, dancing first wedding dances. Embraced in the daily liberties that I enjoy and sometimes even get frustrated with and argue with.

How dare I lose my patience with the child? How dare I selfishly grumble about dishes? Or cutting massive amounts of broccoli into tiny pieces because OK HE'S RIGHT and it is better when it's smaller and it fits in our tupperware. FINE.

It's also better to measure the turkey in a bowl rather than on the flat tupperware lid. This man is ALWAYS RIGHT. Thanks, God. Humble pie. Served. Gah.

I ran the last mile and my mind raced with thoughts. Gratitude. Disbelief of my blessings. Renewed commitment to more eucharisto, less complaining. More time with these people. These hearts.

Crossfit is more than a workout. It is a community. It is shared experience. It is being here, now. And I need it back, ever so desperately.

ALL YOUR STRENGTH

"Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one. Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength." - Deuteronomy 6:4-5

Or "Stren-GHF" as we like to say 'round here. Quads of DOOM.

Heart, soul and strength. Doesn't it take all of these? Sometimes we have more of one than we do the other.

I have lifted many heavy things with a soul that was in need.

My heart is almost always happy but my strength can fail.

God knows this - he knows our weaknesses. He knows where we lack and where we abound. And I recently had one of those light bulb moments you should probably have waaaay before 35 years old but whatevs and I realized that where we lack is such a gift.

We turned gymnastics night into quite the fiasco - with Amanda at the helm, we became cheer athletes. Ish.

In competition, in Crossfit, we preach "work the weakness" - you hate to walk in and see THAT thing on the whiteboard, THAT muscle up or THAT double under or THAT Turkish get up.

Ya'll can we talk about how ugly this is? Srs.

In life, we hate to walk in on the issue. To have to confront THAT thing that's bothering you. THAT argument. THAT disagreement. THAT hurt.

In Crossfit, we work the weakness. In the gym, we work the weakness. Sure it's fun to do the things we are good at. But when we flex the weakness, when we expose it and take a look around, the struggle and the triumph comes. We grow and learn and fall and get up and we TRIUMPH.

Man, I just might be getting the hang of this. And handstand walks.

MT. ST. HELENS

Text messages between me and bikini master, Coach Lion:

Me: Here's the pic of the overall bikini at Contra Costa. I feel very far away from looking remotely like this:



















Me: I feel like I look like this:



















Me: OK OK, if I looked like Stacie Tovar I would be OK with that. I would tell bikini to kiss my ass. For reals. Carry on and have a great Monday!

Coach Lion: Haha I love (and I mean this) the way you open the valve on how you feel so that you emotionally don't go all Mt. St. Helens.

PATTERNS

We recently listened to a message about "this world" - what in THIS world are we doing? What is THIS world really? And why does God want us here, as opposed to removing ourselves from the threat of the stains, the dirt, the scars.

Ever wonder about that?

Ya'll, if I could only have Jeremiah 29:11 tattooed on my hand. Or forehead. Wait, then I'd have to look in the mirror to see it and it would be backwards. Retract. 

If we just didn't have all this darned temptation around us...the distraction, the food, the mess, the heartache, the choices. If life were just...simpler.

My, oh my, how many times I have prayed for that. A simpler existence. I see your blog over there, lookin' all neat and tidy and you have time to home make all your teacher gifts off Pinterest and you recovered those chairs using hot glue and the love of God and you have timeouts for quiet prayer time three times a day programmed into your iPhone.

Some days are like that and Pinterest scores a few points. Some days. Some days we painted those pots and planted seeds for Mother's Day. Some days we make sandwiches with cookie cutter shapes to match the seasons.

But most? Most are just lived IN.



















He is always a happy man but he looks especially happy in this picture and I'm sure it's because he knew he would be 6th place and that his dime of a lady would get 5th. YOU HEAR THAT? Yes, I beat him.

Most days are "how do we seriously go through a jar of peanut butter a week in this house?!" and "where are your shoes?" and if I can make it through three pages of my 1000 Gifts book by Anne Voskamp then we shall declare that success and I will shake my butt around!

This world is not simple. But Christ calls us to not walk in the ways of the world, but rather to walk in HIS ways and love the world.

When you compete, when you make choices to become a healthier person, you expose yourself to the criticism of others. I have struggled with lack of family support. I have had to make choices to leave some relationships at a distance because they do not align with what I believe I am here to accomplish. This is not easy. And it made me, at times, want to hide what I was doing - somehow not be proud of what I was doing. I haven't experienced that in a long time until this weekend...at a family party. I packed my lunch because I knew I would need to and when everyone started making plates, I thought to myself "I'll just wait and eat in the car on the way home so I don't make a spectacle of this."

I could feel it rise in my chest: I work hard for this. For every question about fitness, for every inquiry about my workout routine, every opportunity I have to share what I do and how amazing it is. I work HARD for this. And I will be proud of the steps it takes to get here.

Muffin the size of his head. With delicious sugar topping. "I don't like it," he declares. "Too sweet." Says NO CHILD EVER. Except mine. 

So out came my tupperware and chicken and sweet potatoe an d broccoli and into the microwave and I was happy to tell others about what i was eating and why it's so important.

Take a seat at the table, ya'll. You never know who might be listening in the seat across from you.

ENDURANCE, CHARACTER, HOPE

"Not only that, but we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope..." - Romans 5:3-4

Endurance, character, hope.

You know, I am definitely not perfect. There was that time I had four Quest bars in one sitting (pretty sure they didn't mean "cheat clean" FOUR TIMES IN ONE HOUR, but whatevs). There was that time I cried on the stationary bike because, you know, fasted cardio the last week of prep just plain sucks. I have failed at every lift I've ever done (why snatch properly when I can clearly push press the sh*t out of that?!) and it took me a good 8 months to learn double-unders and only then because I had a dream one night about doing them and then the next day I walked into the box and I could just DO them.

"Do you ever wish we were like a normal couple that meets for lunch and eats pizza or shrimp po boys?" I asked him.

We just aren't. Because I was blessed enough to find a man who is a true partner and loves lifting heavy things and our Lord Jesus Christ.

I have absolutely no idea how I crushed this open workout, carb depleted and two weeks out from a figure competition. He scored me, shirtless of course. And then promptly ate 18 plates of food. While I wanted to die and writhed on the box floor for the next 30 minutes. Love, ya'll.

There's this line between "I have a dream to _________" and the grind. The threshing floor, where you wake up every day and you plan and you work a plan and you just do it - you make the choices. This is where most people fall between the cracks, this space between the dream and the doing.

Want to feel like a bad ass? Tell TSA agents that "I'm an athlete and this is my food" and then watch people wonder if they should ask for your autograph. Yes. I am famous. That's what they're thinking, right? Right? Um...

Between the dream and the doing. In that space, there is commitment and planning and choices. Endurance. Every threshing of the wheat, every seemingly monotonous task turns into character. And that character? That character gives you the hope to thresh out the dream.

FIT TIP FROM IHEARTGALVESTON

Fit Tip #67859:

When your iPhone dies midway through your cardio sesh and the only thing on the gym TV in front of you is Guy Fieri "Diners, Driveins, and Dives" and they are featuring a pizza place in Minnesota that crafts the most amazing pizzas in a custom built copper pizza oven that maintains a temp of 550-600 degrees, and their pies festure house made fennel Italian sausage and they homemake their own kimchi because she's Korean and her mom handed down the recipe for generations and then they put it on a pizza with sesame oil and scallions and you might wonder how I remember all these useless details about food and then - WAIT FOR IT - HERE'S THE TIP - you realize that you should have RUN out of the gym and away from the food porn.

Do not watch Food Network when prepping.

Srs though. Can't remember what I did on New Years this year but can remember that the name of the pizza place was Lola's and that she sprinkles the Napa cabbage with sea salt to brine it.

The struggle is real, ya'll.

THE PROCESS

"No one takes issue with the provision," he preached.

"The issue always lies in the process."

And I circled it. And I underlined it. And I wrote "THAT'S. IT."

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Ya'll here's the deal: life is tough. It's ups and downs and there is laughter and heart ache, there are temptations and there are now Reese's filled Chips Ahoy cookies because REALLY I NEEDED THAT ONE, and there are good choices and bad choices and sometimes we look over our shoulder and say "oh, maaaaan, I wish I hadn't just done ___________."

Ya'll, I took a picture. And a man said "what are you doing?" and I said "sending this picture to my coach as a distraction so that I don't Reese's rage on you in this grocery store aisle" and then he walked away quickly...

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It all comes down to this: can you learn to trust the process?

These ideas and thoughts started to come together for me this weekend after Pastor's message and I keep travelling back to this notion of process.

Christ is process.

Life is process.

Does it matter that you grabbed those 10 minutes of quiet time before holy dogs and kids and the morning routine of packing lunches and making this disaster of a bed, ya'll I don't even know how it happens, does it even? Does it even matter?

Seriously though. When I see this, I am reminded of Priscilla Shrier and Gideon on the threshing floor and I give praise and thanks for a bed to sleep in and make, a roof over my head, and strong arms that hold me at night. That being said, I can't even explain this.

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When those minutes build into ideas and string together like lights on twinkly string and they head straight toward your heart and you make different choices than you might have before?

Yes. Trust the process.

In all - in Christ, in life, in children, in fitness, in everything.

There is a lot of excuse making in this life. No time. Too busy. It's too hard. It's too heavy. That's too many. Too few.

And I just can't stand for it any longer. Begin the process. Make it happen. Lift it. It's heavy? Yes. Now do it 9 more times. It's hard to understand? Read it again. Let His words seep into you and watch when they circle back around like birds to meet you where you need Him most.

"Not that I have attained or already perfected, but I press on that I may lay hold of that for which Christ Jesus has also laid hold of me," - Philippians 3:12

THE PULL

Don't you love the tug on your heart? In those wee hours when it just cracks open the door and you hear the line "Your voice is the light shining in the doorway of my heart" and, my friends, that is no accident. There are no accidents.

Let's recap.

I sort of lost my mind and started Crossfit about a year ago. And, as it does for many, it became an obsession. I mean, yes, it satisfied the completely competitive and obsessive tendencies of my soul, but it also surfaced something else: a desire to encourage. A desire to be an example. A desire to motivate and cheer others on, a culture that is so prevalent in Crossfit.

I was, and continue to be completely fascinated by this journey. Your body is a miracle - a living, breathing miracle that responds when you move. When you feed it - good and bad. When you rest it. Stretch it. Meld and mold it by fostering habits. By pushing it to do things you didn't think you could make it do.

Then I REALLY lost my mind.

Last October, I was meeting with one of my coaches who plans my meals for me. This coach also trains for physique competition. My goals last Fall were to put on monster amount of muscle and get really, super, duper strong. This involved me eating insane amounts of protein and not running. Yes, NOT running. For a girl who was clocking 40+ miles a week and basically had been running races for years and years. It was all I knew. But I digress.

"Why don't you train for a figure competition?" she asks.

I nearly fell over.

"There's no way my body will ever look like figure bodies" was my EXACT. RETORT.

"If I promise you I can get you there, would you consider it?"

And so I considered it. FOR TWO MONTHS.

Crossfit is functional. It's performance based: you can lift it, you can't lift it. You are faster, you are slower. Do you want to do pull-ups? Then do them every time you walk into the box. Work on your skills. It's a never ending fitness journey that not only makes you an athlete, it makes you fitter for life. To pick up your kids, to mop the floor, to rake leaves without a back injury. It makes you better, faster, stronger.

Figure is different. Because at the end of the day, you can train and prep and do everything right and you still have THIS FRAME, and maybe someone likes it and maybe someone doesn't. Erin Stern, Figure Olympia A Gazillion Times Over? Yeah, they like her frame:

Why, oh WHY would I do something like this? Because I love a challenge? Because I'm 35 freaking years old and probably will never have another opportunity to do this? Because if NOTHING ELSE, my body would be improved for Spring Break 2014, like I'm in high school headed to Cancun again MTV style? Yeah. NO.

And then I realized it, the crown jewel of lessons, the bonk-your-head message that we all overlook: the journey is the reward.

While you strive for the podium, if you can't be present in the journey and enjoy it, learn from it, laugh about it, then you really shouldn't be doing it. Sirloin and green beans for breakfast is sort of hilarious, so is being orange tan, so is sparkle spandex, so is frequent Amazon.com orders for waist cinchers and lucite stripper heels. Welcome to my life.

Preparation, practice, passion. You can do all things through Christ, who strengthens you. I promise. HE promised.

You don't step on a figure stage without weeks and weeks (13 to be exact) of specific training and steps. For me, there is no room for error. There is no cheating or deviation. It is commitment like I have never experienced and it has drawn me closer to Christ. And tupperware:

Ya'll, I joke about it but truly, I do not know how anyone preps for this without Jesus Christ and Lil' Wayne. You're welcome.

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I have been praying about how to use this. God has blessed me with so many gifts and abilities and the talents to do things like eat really obnoxious amounts of asparagus and the willpower to not drink at Tillman's San Luis Salute Mardi Gras Ball (NOT KIDDING, water. And KC and the Sunshine Band. That helped.) Plus, I love to write and talk and inspire and motivate and encourage and hug people, even when it's somewhat inappropriate. I am a champion of the ill-timed, inappropriate hug.

Two things happened:

One: I received an email about a conference for aspiring writers, bloggers and public speakers. And it got me thinking. What's stopping me? I have been writing this blog for years and ya'll have stood by and witnessed the ridiculousness that is my life and, while I hope you find it funny, I can at least say that it's like the best train wreck you couldn't ever take your eyes off of.

I threatened to pick back up at the start of the year. I miss writing, I miss taking pictures and thinking of how I would work it into my writing, being sparked by a topic or a situation and thrilled to share and write it. So maybe, perhaps, now is the time.

Two: fasted cardio. What in h-e-double-hockey-sticks is fasted cardio? Well, folks, her name is Betty the Bike and she and I are 5 AM morning besties during this figure competition prep. Nothing screams "deep reflection" like 45 minutes of low to moderate state cardio every morning of your life for 12 weeks. When I started, I decided this would be an excellent time to listen to some sermons on podcast, rock it out on an alternating schedule of my Bethel and Drake Pandora stations (seriously, ya'll think I'm kidding when I say I live and die by the cross and Wayne), and spend some time in prayer. And Sportscenter. Balance, folks.

This morning I was thinking about this crossover, this possible bridge between faith and fitness. And it just FLOODED me. The complaints are the same: I don't have time. For faith. For Bible study. For Church. For prayer. I don't have time. To workout. To go to the gym. To go on a walk. Faith - and fitness - are about finding strength in weakness. In learning perseverance. In daily practice and habit, making beautiful things. Out of us.

You make beautiful things out of us. Christ makes beautiful things. Out of US.

The notes and scribbles and pouring forth has been so overwhelming and fun this morning and I just couldn't wait to share it. More thoughts need to go down on paper. But lemme tell you what, I am back and I am a bad B. Just for my hittas!