It ain’t just about me eating meat or dairy free. Or looking lovely in a bikini. It’s so much bigger than that. Have you seen the world lately? Me neither. That’s because each day a little more of it disappears.
Greed, money and power make the world go around. Instead of love, sharing and working together to reverse man’s total disregard for the planet. No time to be sad because it’s true. Doesn’t mean there’s nothing we can’t do.
And what about the children? Whether they’re the ones with growing legs parked underneath your dinner table each night or others who have no dinner each night. Having a table seems hardly important if there is no food to eat.
It’s so much bigger than us. Can’t you see?
Shaping our bodies tends to take precedence over shaping our minds, developing our spirits. We’d rather hear compliment after compliment being given on our taunt muscles or indestructible abs. Or at least what appears to be so. Never really giving much thought to anything else because it becomes a cycle of praise and reward our ego seeks.
You tell yourself I workout for me. It’s a lifestyle not a diet. Health is wealth. And all that other bullshit because it sounds good. And although the above is true it doesn’t mean squat if the people you’re hitting with that spiel on a daily can’t see you. I mean truly see you.
Your soul. Your passion. Where is it? Your genuine interest in helping others reach their own goals by facing life’s obstacles head on. What happened to it? Whether you’re a trainer, fitness instructor or just a fit person at work who people seek advice on just about everything diet and workout related. Know that these conversations are not about you. So don’t make them about you.
Listen with your heart and mind. Don’t interject. Teach with passion and patience. Don’t just focus on those who look like you and disregard others. Intentional or not. Body size and weight don’t mean shit if your spirit ain’t fit.
Fighting sleep. My mind won’t keep. 12:42 in the a.m. Sunday’s now gone. Yesterday’s run lingers on. Had decided that morn that I was taking the vibe to Venice Beach. Wanted to run as close to the water’s edge as possible. Story of my life.
A really good meal and a truly bad movie later somewhat derailed all plans of heading out earlier. Hopped on the 108 bus for the 35 minute ride and scenic view of houses that required maids. Hit Windward circle just before sunset. Snagged a bottled coconut. Took a only few swigs. Wanted to avoid getting side stitches later. Bad decision. Should have drank the whole thing to stay hydrated. After stashing my pack and longboard with Babou I headed to the boardwalk.
Didn’t warm up enough because there was so much energy at the beach. Skaters. Surfers. Locals. Tourists. Artist. Vendors. I wanted in on this time machine. Pressed a few buttons. Leaned into a speaker, “Pink Pegasus take flight!”
Started off on the bike path. Ditched that idea after reading Bikes Only more than a few times. I could give two shits about the angry looks I was getting from these weekend pedalers. It was their seemingly lack of direction that split my wig and forced my pace across the sand to the boardwalk.
Breath was unsteady. Pushed the pace too soon. Legs were on autopilot. Couldn’t seem to get my breath on the same plain. Pun jab. Tried to relax in between. Reminding myself that this was not a race. The goal was to remain fluid. Keeping my arms involved. The steady stream of weed smoke didn’t help matters. Medicinal my ass.
Ran all the way to Ferris wheel on Santa Monica Pier. Fought the urge to slide my phone out of its arm sleeve and snap the moment. Kept going. A bathroom break and my music suddenly stopping had already slowed my pace. Headed back. Talking to myself the whole way. Began to feel encouraged when I started passing some of the same people and a few walking runners. Keep Going Baby read one woman’s sweatshirt while a cool looking dad stuck out his hand in support. Returned the palm plant. Took it as a sign. And kept going.
Solid. No breaks. Steady pace. Felt good to be running at night. Passing cars of people trying to duck LA’s cold. Started off on a popular path in Culver City. Eventually taking it to the streets because the path is pretty dark in a lot of spots. Safety first.
No sidewalks for the kid either. Too many cracks. Too much knee pounding. At least in the street I felt my shoes absorb most of the impact and I could see the cracks. Finished as strongly as I started. Newbie runner on deck. Baby steps. Indeed.
Bear with me while I update my blog. Still figuring out layouts and where my categories have suddenly disappeared to. In the meantime read how I got here. Cheers!
In April 2013 I was an overweight, heavy drinking emotional eater who no longer recognized my own mirrored image. Filled with anger and resentment at what I perceived as life’s disappointments. Not realizing that it was me. I was the problem.
I had settled for a life that was not my own. One that was sad and unfulfilling. No one person or series of events was responsible. Only me. It was after this moment of realization is when I decided to take my life back. And I haven’t looked back since. I made health and fitness not only a priority it became a lifestyle. Mine.
I’d been an off and on vegan over the years. Once I truly made the health connection to the foods that I was consuming I decided to fully commit. After doing so I experienced an increase in energy, weight loss and shorter recovery times in between workouts. I loved my life. Every aspect of it.
Then like a Lifetime movie, tragedy struck. In September 2014 I seriously injured my right ankle. I didn’t know it at the time. Initially I was misdiagnosed so I continued to train on what I thought was just a bad sprain. No bueno. it was much worse. A couple of fractures, ligament damage and bone bruising.
Since then I’ve gone through, x-Rays, MRIs, two sets of crunches, two walking boots and an array of ankle braces and physical therapy.
Needless to say this past year has been a disheartening journey. Lots of ups and downs. Fluctuating weight. Poor eating habits. And yes depression. I watched a year’s worth of clean eating and having an active lifestyle slowly disappear. Wondering if I’d ever get it back. I still wonder.
And yes my ankle has been prone to re-injury. Probably because I won’t stop skating for more than a week.
Follow me on my journey to get healthy and strong again. Not interested in who I was before. Only in who I am becoming. Dig ya’ for cruising by. Wigtoss!
Love going backwards in order to go forward. Wicked hot on Wednesday. Didn’t keep me from hitting the city. Board life. No strife. Skated so much ended up jamming my left big toe. Braking too hard. New bearings. Board’s hella fast now. Charlie, here’s your pass now.
School’s out. Forever.
Mork & Mending
Hollywould. If they let cha.
If only to catch a glimpse.
Back on the boulevard.
Moon child run free.
I don’t eat meat. Nor do I smoke. But every morning I awake to the smells of burning bacon and cigarettes upon cigarettes being endlessly lit. My neighbors don’t seem to understand with each seasonal change your diet should reflect that same energy swing.
Instead they cook, if that’s what you want to call it, pounds of flesh daily. No matter the time or temperature. The building wreaks of their bad taste. Can the moving gods please see fit to grant me a place closer to the water’s edge? And soon. Cue the ocean smells.
Let’s not forget the Vietnam vet living in the first apartment. Seriously, I couldn’t make this shit up if I tried. Thanks to Capt. Chain Smoker I have the pleasure of being greeted with the acrid smell of packaged addiction every time I open my window in an attempt to get some fresh air.
Hell, I can still smell it even when it’s closed. Sheesh! I can only imagine what his lungs must look like. Never understood how and why so many people willingly invest in killing themselves. I don’t normally pull out a soapbox but I am sick of smelling this shit. Literally.
Calling all bloggers! In need of your help. In dire straits is more like it. I have an extremely well written, funny and sometimes insightful blog. I’m no fitness professional or expert. But I am a writer, currently living in Los Angeles, who digs all things health, fitness, food and oh yeah fun.
Here’s the problem. Wait for it…wait for it. Kidding. A lil’ distracted. Just remembered that I have another chia pudding in the fridge. Whew hoo!
Okay, seriously though. How do I get rid of all these frickin’ categories? I blog from my phone. New laptop in the works. Not really. But it sounds legit. In the meantime HELP! I’m not having much luck with WordPress on my tablet either. What am I doing wrong? Thanks in advance. Chia pudding time!