The other day, I was at the mall with my 4-year old daughter, and as we walked passed a Victoria's Secret poster featuring a pouty-lipped seductress, all dolled up in sexy red lace, she looked up and yelled excitedly...."Mommy! It's you!" As implausible as "lingerie model" is on my resume.....I willingly bathed in the compliment, secretly hoping that the handsome UPS delivery guy walking by, had overhead it all. I mean, I can't be the only one who believes that children and drunks always speak the truth. I love my body. I love my fitness. And I'm proud of the pipes I've earned. But it's been a journey to get here. And it hasn't always been easy. When I became pregnant with my son, my dreams of being a marathon-running, yoga-loving, aqua-sizing goddess were dashed hard. Debilitating morning sickness, intense cravings for pizza pops, and an extreme discomfort with the way it felt to move with a mini Mohammed Ali upper-cutting my ribcage, meant that I was a couch potato for the first time in my life. Things weren't any different with my second pregnancy. And by the time I was done popping those babies out, I was a round, soft, Pillsbury-dough-boy version of myself. And it was an incredibly tough pill to swallow. I didn't know how to lose the weight and tone it up. And I was overwhelmed with the wild tantrums, and the fruit punch spills, and the raisins in my hair, and the "mommy, mommy, mommy!" I felt frumpy. Everything-but-sexy. And I didn't recognize my own body anymore. I had been active my whole life, and all of a sudden, I was lost. Unsure how to tap into the old "me".....all within the 30 min confines of nap time. But guys, in the throws of it all...in the "who am I" haze.....I knew that I simply needed to move. Not only for the sake of my body, but for the sake of my mind. And this is the exact recipe I followed. Get curious What moves you to move? It's different for everyone. Take the time to explore what gets you GOIN'! Whether it's boxing, cycling, running, bootcamp, yoga, rock climbing, dancing, or spike ball. Life is too short to begrudge your workouts. And fitness needs to stem from the heart if it's gonna stick. For me? That meant that running was out, and hot and sweaty TRX was in. I needed a "fuck yes!" rather than a "fuck....if I have to." Let the Secret Out Tell anyone and everyone about your fitness goals. And then let them support you. Ditch the guilt about asking for help, and know that when you are working out, you are setting the example for your kiddos. Accountability is key. And in order to stay consistent, you want to build your own guillotine, so to speak......meaning, if you don't show up, there will be people banging on your door. My angry mob? The crew who came to class with me every lunch hour. Miss a day? There'd be hell to pay. Don't be dumb If you're gonna commit to working out, you need to make it do-able. Guys? Don't be dumb, and tell yourself that you're gonna hit the gym....45 mins away.....every morning.....at 6 am. Set yourself up for success, and account for real life. Take a hard look at the flow of your day, when you have the most energy, and what is going to be convenient for you. Otherwise, you're just serving yourself up a platter of potential excuses not to workout. My sweet spot? The mid-day workout, 2 blocks away. Nearly impossible to invent a reason not to go. Choosing to move is simple. Battling reasons not to, is tough. And guys, the best thing you can do is create a framework that is going to allow for consistency and follow-through. I am now a full-fledged MILF: Mother In Love with Fitness. And according to my daughter, you will be seeing me in the next Victoria's Secret Fashion Show. Angel wings and all.
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