Diary of a Mad, Menopausal Woman

Just yesterday I was “normal”, whatever that means.  But truly, I was.  I am sure of it, I think.  I mean … it feels like it was just yesterday, right?  C’mon foggy brain, you can do this.  You can remember.  Perhaps “normal” is or was or should be overrated anyway.  Does it even matter?  YES!  YES it does matter.  Hence this diary.  Stay on task foggy brain.  Seriously.  You can do this.

Let’s throw out a few definitions before we begin.

Diary:  the telling of a tale.  To admit to something, come to a realization, to be enlightened enough or have that “something” be important enough to write it down for the entire universe to see. (OK … melodramatic and yes, quite daunting)

Mad:  as in angry, yes, but also crazy, freaked out, disturbed, maniacal, borderline psycho and quite often a complete nutcase swinging from the vines of emotionalism

Menopausal:  the bane of aging, the bewitching of body, mind and spirit, the unfair continuum of the curse of menses that follows us to our graves (and perhaps drags us there kicking and screaming in our maddened state of existence)

Woman:  Simply put … NOT man.  Doubtful a man could even handle any of the above.

As I was saying, just yesterday I was normal.  And then, I was not.  Just like that.  I blinked, snapped my fingers, turned my head and “Normal” snuck out the door.  That’s ok.  I am not one who strives to be like everyone else anyway.  So, in an attempt to embrace my un-normalness, I reach for that proverbial superhero cape (it’s a deep, sensuous red in my mind), sling it around my shoulders, bend over slightly due to the new found pain in my hip (bone loss perhaps?) and don that sucker like nobody’s business.  I stand there in my closet with my hands on my hips … deep in my own super hero imagination.  Why did I come in here?  There was something specific I came looking for.  It wasn’t clothing or shoes, I’m pretty sure.  I drop my arms from their best ever Wonder Woman place on my hips (Ouch! That right hip still hurts).   To preserve brain power, I walk out of the closet none the wiser as to why I entered it in the first place.  Foggy Brain = 1.  Normal Me = 0.  I lose again.

The numbers on the clock at night burn a hole in my head.  I watch them like a creepy peeping Tom … eyes wide open and a weird look on my face.  Interesting, those digital numbers.  Do you know which numbers on a digital clock have the same amount of lighted lines as the number itself?  I raise my hand as if I am a 1st grader …. “Oh Oh, I know the answer.  Pick me!  Pick me!”  The number 4 and the number 5.  Aha!  All that creepy staring is good for something!

 I watch the clock as the 2, as in A.M., turns into a 3.  Only a couple hours left to attempt sleep.  I give up trying.  My zombie self rises as if it is coming up out of the depths of the Earth.  Another all-nighter, which also means another wrecked day of walking around in a daze.  Thank you, Menopause.  This means so much.

Are there calories in the air?  If I sniff something delectable will I gain weight?  I’m a trainer, a fitness trainer.  I’ve worked hard to maintain a lean, muscular physique.  Not to worry … I still have it despite the capital M in menopause.  If you know me personally, don’t roll your eyes when you read this, but my body is changing.  No, it’s not drastic (yet) but I can tell, and quite frankly that’s all that matters.  Primary areas of concern that have been affected by the capital M:  abdominal, hips, thighs, butt.  Instead of being the separate, wonderful entities that they are (ahem, or rather, WERE), they have begun to appear amalgamated into more of an amorphous single unit.  It’s like they each lifted their Power Rangers rings, fist bumped them together while screaming, “Power Rangers Unite!”  Each area that has been affected by the capital M has brought along a suitcase for the journey … filled with those 2 sexy figure killers that start with the letter C.  Cellulite and Crepey skin.  Again, Lady M, job well done.  This sucker punch is the loveliest of it’s kind.  I applaud you.

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Some of the running dialogue in my head … and “M”s sneering responses … making a mockery of what has become of me (at her own manipulative hand.  I hate her!)

Me: They were here just a minute ago … my reading glasses!  M: They are on your head.

Me: My keys.  Not in my purse.  Not on the counter.  I’m late!  M: Haha!  They are in the ignition.

Me: Sure, I can meet you for coffee!  M: No. You have a job, remember?  

Me: Let me put my shoes on real quickly.  M: Be careful.  You now fall over standing on one foot.

Me: I can’t wait to go running.  M: Do you hear that clicking sound?  Is it your knees, spine, hips or all of the above?  And … make sure there’s a restroom always close by!

Me:  How old am I?  Oh, I’m 45.  M:  No you’re not.  You’re 47.  Don’t be so flighty.

Me: There was a point to this story.  M:  Yes, and you’ve forgotten it like you do many things.

Me: I love you but I want to murder you.  M: Mood swings, have we?

Me: The food on my plate looks blurry.  M: Reading glasses.  They are on top of your head.

Me: Please just leave me alone!!!!  M:  I thought you said you were lonely. 

Me:  I want ______ (fill in the blank).  No I don’t.  Yes I do.  M:  If made it so that you have no idea what you want anymore.

Me:  I’m just so tired.  M: You just woke up.  I love we get to spend all night hanging out!

Me:  Give me my coffee and no one gets hurt!  M: You are very serious and could end up on the news this evening.  Not to worry, I’m responsible but I’ll let you take the fall.

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It’s blazing hot in here.  I remember watching my grandmother pick up anything that she could use as a makeshift fan, wave that fan around her face and say, in her sweet, Southern twang, “Ewwwww, Lordy, Lordy.  I’m havin’ me a tropical heat waaa-aave!”   Remember the sexy red super hero cape I slung around my shoulders?  Well, it disguises itself.  It’s actually the Villain, not the Super Hero.  It takes the form of boiling heat that creeps up my back, waving its hot fiery edges up my spine.  Once it gets to about shoulder height, the cape of fire wraps itself around the front of my body, hovers there long enough to make me miserable and then swooshes up my face, leaving sweat all over my brow and escaping like a thief in the night out of my skull.  I’m sure that my eyes have turned to flaming hot laser beams and if I opened my mouth, dragon flames would exit from within and scorch anyone or anything in sight.  M …. go on with your bad, hot self, because of course, we know you will, especially after we’ve put on make up to cover up the strange skin tone we now have and are giving a presentation in front of a room full of people.  Lady M …. or shall I call you “Your Hotness” this is not remotely funny, but always ill-timed and has mean girl tendencies.  I have a mind to strangle you once and for all, but it just makes me too hot to think about following through.

I’m freezing!  I need a blanket.  A thick, heavy blanket.  Yes.  I realize it is the dead of summer.  But you aren’t me, so shut your trap and bring me that blanket before I murder you.  And be sure to keep one eye open while you are sleeping too, because you are just under my skin all day, every day and I just can’t take you anymore.  You would think that any of the excess adipose tissue (look it up, people.  I’m not explaining it to you) that the capital M has brought into my life would help insulate me.  No indeed.  It’s not going to work in my favor at all …. ever.  So I remain cold.  Like, old lady cold.  Like, grandma wrapped up in a sleeping bag (okay, there’s a name for those blankets, but for the life of me I can’t think of it), wearing thick wool socks PLUS slippers and a cute little hat she knitted herself, sitting in her cloth chair that is sitting in front of a floor heater cold.  FREEZING!  But all I have to do is wait a few minutes and the sexy, red Villain Cape will appear and burn me to smithereens.

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Do I have to get out of bed?  Yes, yes, I know I have to wash the sheets because there’s a sweat ring that may become permanent if left unattended.  But I really don’t think I have it in me today to even greet the world, much less these people who happen to live in the same house as I.  Who are these people anyway?  Not even coffee has the power in its “drip, drip” melody or its sweet, nutty scent to drag me up out of the abyss, pull me into the shower and the whole rigmarole it takes to be presentable to the world and to these people.  I’ve decided I’m not adulting today, or mommying, or wifeying, or trainering, or friending, or Mimi-ing.  (oh yeah … I forgot to tell you that I am, indeed, a grandmother).  The world seems like a dim, dreary, black hole place today.  I just want to stay under the covers, that is, until the sexy red Villain Cape attacks me again, and again, and again.

I don’t know why.  Stop asking me!  No, I’m not all right.  OK, maybe I am just fine but I’m pretty sure the world is coming to an end.  The sadness is overcoming me.  Tears.  Tears.  Tears.  I couldn’t get the top off of the jar of peanut butter today.  Tears.  The World is coming to an end!  I think I can see the imprint of my belly button in this tank top.  Tears.  The World is coming to an end!  We ran out of Puffs tissues; the drinking glass slipped out of my hand and broke into a million, zillion, kabillion pieces; I exercised 3 days this week instead of 5; I get hot flashes while I’m trying to enjoy a bath; this TV commercial about dogs in shelters is just way too much for me to handle … will no one rescue them?  Tears.  Tears.  Tears.  The World is coming to an end!   Menopause, I have to admit, your flare for the dramatic is somewhat admirable.  Always in character, you are.

You must die.  There’s nothing more to be said or done.  (Dear Reader, do not get your panties in a bundle with the vulnerability I risk to tell you how I FEEL when you know good and well that often times you feel the exact same way).  I know that murder is frowned upon, but desperate times make for desperate measures.  Menopause has decreed that in most cases, murder is acceptable.  Perhaps you are the idiot driver who nearly pushed me off the side of the road.  You must die.  Or maybe you are the young, dumb 20-something waltzing around in the gym (like you even know what you are doing or could ever take me in an arm wrestling match).  You must die.  Oh, you are the teeny tiny clasp on my favorite bracelet and you decide to break causing the millions of beads in my favorite bracelet to scatter themselves across the globe, never to be found again?  Yes, you too must die.  Family members?  Well, I’d have to think long and hard about your demise at my own bare hands.  I may allow you to live, though my rage is piping hot in this very moment, so I’d steer clear if I were you.  The squeaky door hinge that for the life of me sounds louder and louder and more annoying by the second.  I will single-handedly break down that door, rip it from its noisy hinge and murder it on site.  You must die.  And I alone shall be the last woMAN standing!

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Here’s a bit of advice …. you may want to tread lightly around the Mad Menopausal Woman.  I would if I were you.  She loves you yet loathes you all at the same time.  Her life is upside down and she knows full well how cray cray she is (gentle hint here to NOT remind her!).  She’ll get it figured out, at least, I know I will, because I’m a fighter like that.  Eventually I’ll take control of all the things I CAN control and I will learn to accept the things I cannot.  Oh, I’m not there yet on the “accepting” part.  (Note the previous “You must die” paragraph above).  There’s still too much fight in me (and rage, and angst, and deep seeded anger, and sadness, and exhaustion, and sleepless nights, and moments of lucidity surrounded by moments of NON lucidity, and confusion mixed with clear headed confidence, hopelessness mixed with resolve for experiencing brighter days ahead).  Let’s just say it’s all a work in progress.  Best to ride the waves alongside me, but mind you, I’d keep a little distance.  Please be patient and kind even though I am NOT always such.  Don’t badger me and MOST IMPORTANTLY, Do Not, by any means laugh at me or make a mockery of how I feel.  (Note again the “You must die” paragraph above).  Love me through the good, the bad and the ugly until we make it safely to the other side.

So until further notice, I will disrespectfully remain yours truly …

~Mad, Menopausal Woman

That Tribal Dance

I love some good music and some fun dancing.  Sure, I’ve been known to do a little jig by myself in my kitchen while mindlessly cleaning or prepping meals for the upcoming week.  However, that’s not exactly the dance I have in mind here, though there are some very similar elements between what it takes for me to jig and jive in my kitchen and what I’ve found in my years of creating my own TRIBAL DANCE.

Being a wordsmith (or, likely what you would call a word NERD) I love a little play with words.  When I was teaching high school English, I remember being way too excited creating Vocabulary tests or finding the hidden meanings within the writings of Dickens, Shakespeare, Voltaire, Dumas and the like.  So, yes, call me a NERD.  Straight up.  I’m ok with it.

So what do I mean when I say, Tribal Dance?  Put simply, I mean, that DANCE of life with those I consider my TRIBE.  Let’s break that down for a second here ….

DANCE:  to move in a way that goes with the rhythm and style of music.  To move and guide someone.  To perform, engage.  To move about in a lively manner.  To bring into a specified condition. To attend in an eager manner.

Dancing requires active participation.  It can come by invitation from another or it can well up within oneself until it bursts forth, requiring a response.  Oh how I have loved my fitness dance throughout the years … my active participation, sometimes brought about by another’s invitation, sometimes bubbling over within me requiring me to MOVE my body.  This dance, for me, has played so many roles in my life.  I’ve “danced” my way into health and wellness and out of depression.  I’ve done a jig or two in the midst of stressful times and have come out the other side the better for it as I gave the stress toxins a way of escape.  My fitness dance in life has forced me to perform and engage — requiring an active role in learning new things and presenting those things to the world around me.

To name a few fitness “dances” I have learned over the years: 

Kickboxing, Step, Bike Club, Linear Double Step, Horizontal Double Step, Pilates, Aqua Aerobics, Silver Sneakers I, II, III, Indoor Cycling, Y Tri (Triathlon coaching), The BRICK (triathlon classes), Core Conditioning (1 full hour on, under and around a stability ball — VERY DIFFICULT, by the way), Swim Club, Rep Reebok, Gravity Training System, Run Club,  Fit Photage 12-week transformation program design, Kettlebell Training, TRX, Cross Core 180, Bodybuilding, Cardio Strength, Circuit Training, Bootcamps, Adventure Racing, Personal Training, Small Group Training, Altitude Training (when I lived at sea level and when I moved to altitude), Tempo training for weightlifting, Agility training, NPC competing, Athletic conditioning for athletes in specific sports, Speed training 

and believe it or not …. much more!!

This fitness dance has given me so much pleasure and has allowed me the ability to use all my God-given talents.  It has forced me to hone my skills, continuing to learn and grow and develop.  This dance has required an active role on my part — to participate, engage, to guide others along the way, to continuously move about in a “lively manner”.  It has become a very real, satisfying, positive part of living this life of fitness.

What about that “TRIBAL” piece?  How does that fit in?  Well, in a word, it has brought COMMUNITY to my dance.  My TRIBE.

TRIBE DEFINED:  a group of people that have the same language, customs, and beliefs.  A large FAMILY.  Synonyms include:  blood kin, kindred, among others.

My fitness dance only goes so far — if it remains in isolation.  But that TRIBAL DANCE … well, that changes things completely.  Sharing that dance with others of like mind, like spirit, people who speak the same language — sharing it with a fitness family makes all the difference in the world.  My TRIBE.  My BLOOD.  My KIN!  That’s a powerfully beautiful dance, indeed.

What does my tribe look like?  Who are they? 

*You, who after open heart surgery, came into my Spin class because you needed to “get back up”; you needed to keep moving, keep striving.  You didn’t want to give up.

*The woman who point blank asked, “What’s it gonna take for me to be able to work with you.  I want what you have to offer and I’ll go to whatever length it takes to secure your services.”

*Those who have broken down in front of me because life has dealt them a harsh card.  And they openly expressed to me what was going on (at which point all my energy was focused on them, right then and there.)

*The man who had never run in his life, but who did his first mud run side by side with me (there were nicknames given that weekend, too!)

*That Wednesday morning Cycling class in the pitch black, dark room with the black lights — the ones who understood my connection to intense music, how it drives me, how it moves me, how it gets into my head and produces something heroic.  All of you — those intense moments, you are my TRIBE.  (We had some very real “come to Jesus” moments, didn’t we?)

*The ones whose spouses up and left them high and dry, who experienced a loss of some sort, who understood pain at a very deep level and who used exercise to take them to the other side of their gut-wrenching process

*All the ones who had a 1st with me:  1st race, 1st competition, 1st personal best, 1st time hiring a personal trainer, entering a contest, signing up for something that scared them

*Those who taught me new things to add to my fitness dance:  triathlon swimming, snowshoe running, bodybuilding competing, skate skiing, hiking 14,000 ft mountains.  To you I say thank you for your patience with me and for helping me rise above myself.

*Those who have suffered in life, who have been handed a raw deal and who have overcome, who have risen up, who have not quit, not given excuses, not felt sorry for themselves.

*The men/women who never thought they could ________(fill in the blank)_________ and who proved that YES, THEY COULD!! (despite age, physical limitations, lack of innate abilities, and every other reason that they could’ve used to not try).

*The ones who have shared with me music that they instinctively know beyond a doubt that I will LOVE.  They understand me and realize they are sharing something with me that connects us.

*All those who have called me “friend” despite our trainer/client relationship.  Those who have wanted to move beyond that initial relationship and get to know what really makes me tick.  They’ve checked up on me.  They initiate.  They WANT to continue be part of my fitness dance despite the time and space between us.

Oh that TRIBAL DANCE.  I almost have no words for its affect on my life as a whole.  Doing fitness.  Doing life.  Dancing — moving in sync, in rhythm to life’s music.  There’s almost nothing better.  I don’t have the desire to be a 1-woman show.  I want MY TRIBE.  I need MY TRIBE.  It is what makes me successful not only professionally, but personally.  My world is made up of each of YOU.  Your input.  Your encouragement.  Your struggles.  Your victories.  And I hope I am stitched into the fabric of your dance as well.  That you know that I am your cheerleader.  That I’m not in competition with you but am dancing alongside of you.  That I’m spinning and twirling in your corner.

Oh that TRIBAL DANCE — may we continue to show up together, do this thing called fitness together, live this crazy life together, dance side by side, move together into the various phases of this journey … spinning, twirling, shining arm in arm!

 

 

 

Bypassing -vs- Passing By

NPC Warrior Classic Figure Competitor, Colorado

Ever wonder how some people seem to have off-the-charts discipline in their lives and others just can’t seem to pull it together if it killed them?  Maybe you are one of the Discipline Kings or Queens out there … leading the way, onward and upward!  Maybe you sit in a totally different camp, struggling with the focus and drive and energy it takes to simply get through the day without falling off the proverbial wagon.

I would dare say that in whichever camp you land, it took either a mindset shift to get you there or will take a mindset shift to get you out.  What do I mean?  Put simply, when push comes to shove and you are faced with that moment of truth — that very specific moment where you MUST decide whether to stick to the thing in which you are attempting a new discipline or give into that sloth on your shoulder that whispers in your ear to submit to your deep-down desire to NOT BE DISCIPLINED — when push comes to shove, do you BYPASS or do you PASS BY?

I understand that perhaps my opinion matters; perhaps it doesn’t.  Maybe you believe that I’m one of those Queens of Discipline and I don’t have struggles … that I’ve always been disciplined and will always remain disciplined.  Maybe you don’t know me at all and therefore what I have to say doesn’t change how you feel.  I can tell you from my own personal experience that Discipline, for me anyway, has come by trial and error, by failures, by continued effort, by intention rather than complacency.  It requires continuity of emotional energy and physical action plans and a “get back up”, “keep on keeping on” state of being.  Discipline hinges on my ability and determination to say NO to myself over and over and over again and to eliminate every obstacle (even those viable “excuses”) that crop up at the moment of truth.

So what do I mean when I ask about BYPASSING vs PASSING BY?  Let’s look first at the Passing By bit.  In my mind when I think of passing by I picture myself coming within close proximity of something, looking at it, considering it (taking it in – its shape, size, texture, color, how it appears in the light, what it means to me deep down in my soul), — CONSIDERING IT from all angles.  I’m looking at it directly, possibly staring, fixated.  All other things disappear for a split second and it’s just me and that thing.  Maybe I linger for a moment.  Perhaps I begin to long for it — whatever “it” is.  It’s close enough to engage all my senses:  taste, feel, smell, sound, see.  And in that moment of passing by, of getting up close and personal, I have a DECISION to make in the way of my DISCIPLINE.  Understand that there can be several of these “passing by” moments in a day.  Some of these moments occur of our own volition.  We CHOOSE to pass by something.  Other times we find ourselves passing by on accident … we just happened to be minding our business and suddenly we ended up in this particular place and time with this particular temptation (something that could easily derail our discipline).  And EVERY SINGLE TIME these passing by moments occur, there’s a confrontation with the path of discipline that I, you, have chosen for ourselves.  It’s the pivotal point.  What decision do I, you, WE make?  It is in these particular moments that we have to default to what the definition of Discipline is and what it takes to remain inside its realms (refer to paragraph above for a reminder about what it takes every day for ME to remain.)

Definition per Merriam-Webster’s Dictionary:  DISCIPLINE – Control that is gained by requiring that rules be obeyed.  A rule or system governing conduct or activity.  Self Control.  To impose order.  To train, develop and bring under control.

Passing by, especially if of our own volition, seems harmless.  What’s one little look gonna do?  Just a sniff … What’s so wrong with wishing for something, longing for it, pining after it?  Passing by allows for a potential catastrophic derailing, that’s what’s wrong with it.  It allows for disorder, a lack of self control (even fleeting).  It allows for emotions to govern the day rather than a conscious, well-planned and executed decision to govern our emotions.  Passing by is dangerous.  It is a chipping away at our resolve, especially if we find ourselves “passing by”, “strolling close to”, “tiptoeing” in enemy territory several times per day — even more so if we ALLOW ourselves.  Enemy territory?  Do I have to speak so dramatically?  YES.  YES I do.  You have to understand that it is a BATTLE!  And we can be heroes of our own fate or we can allow ourselves to become victims — victims of our own ongoing lack of discipline, our inability to stick to anything in order to accomplish the goal we have set before us.  Passing by has the ability to take us down every single time, losing those discipline battles right and left.

So what about Bypassing, you ask?  What do I mean by it?  Well … I believe that when a decision is made to being disciplined in an area of life, what should come with it is an attitude of Bypassing.  Synonyms?

  Avoidance.  Deflection.  Circumvention. Neglecting.  Ignoring.  Detour.  Circumnavigate.  Skirt.  Disregard.  Go Around rather than Go Through.

Bypassing temptation seems difficult at first.  It requires an iron-clad will and a mindset of sacrifice; that’s where the “saying no to oneself” comes into play.  Remember, one of the attributes of discipline is intention — being purposeful.  Bypassing something that is a temptation and that could easily derail discipline takes intention of will, intention of actions, intention of sacrifice, intention of saying NO.  It’s an avoidance of the temptation all together … a detour … disregarding it … circumnavigating AROUND IT rather than passing by it close enough to taste, feel, smell, touch and hear it.  Bypassing requires a plan and is a decision made in the mind — it is not emotional.  It doesn’t pine after, long for, or feel as if it’s missing out.  It takes on a whole new set of rules and runs with them — focusing more on all the great things in the forefront and less on the “Can’ts and Don’ts”.  Bypassing forages new paths — doesn’t take the same ol’ path with the same lack of results.  Bypassing creates detours and eliminates the road blocks rather than trying to navigate through the flashing yellow caution lights and “Rough Road Ahead” signs that warn of an impending stall or complete standstill on the road to success.

Practical applications of Bypassing -vs- Passing By?  Be careful as you read — these may sting a little bit!

1.  You (Actually, this was ME, back in the day!) signed up for an intense weight lifting program because you really want to see what you can accomplish in the way of muscle gain.  Your coach says, “I need you to NOT RUN LONG DISTANCES for the duration of the program because it will stall your weight lifting/muscle preservation goals.”  Passing By:  You scroll through the Active.com website for upcoming races (just to see) . Bypassing:  You take yourself to the weight room and resist your urge to scroll … and possibly take the Active.com app off your phone for good measure.

2.  You said that this year you are going to clean up your diet specific to sugar intake because it is your weakness.  Passing By:  Buys several boxes of Girl Scout Cookies (for your kids, of course) and keeps them in pantry, just close enough, but “behind closed doors”, you say.  So you feel “safe”.  May have a few after a solid workout, you know, as a reward.  Bypassing:  Doesn’t have any sugary temptations in the house, at all.

3.  The goal?  Drink less alcohol.  Passing By: Schedules all meetings and social gatherings at places that serve alcohol because of the fear of being judged by colleagues/friends and doesn’t want to look like a teetotaler.  Bypassing:  Tells everyone what the goal is, asks for support and schedules meetings and gatherings at non-alcohol venues OR let’s go of fear of judgment and because of the announcement of goals to others, makes a decision to order water EVERY SINGLE TIME.  Realizes being a teetotaler isn’t the worst thing in life.

4.  You make a resolution to stick to a specific exercise regimen.  Passing By:  Tiptoes around the excuses not to go to the gym today, tomorrow or the next day.   Says “I’ll make up for it” next week or “I’ll actually START next week rather than this week”.  “Am really tired and probably would’t get a good workout anyway.”  Bypassing: Deflects all excuses by creating specific workout appointments with self in the calendar.  These appointments cannot be broken, much like a doctor’s appointment or business meeting.  They are non-negotiable – family members, colleagues and friends are aware of this – and it would take an act of God to reschedule.

5.  You decide to follow a nutrition plan because you want to rein in your diet and drop a few pounds.  Passing By:  It’s ok if I have a cheat day.  I’m taking an 80% / 20% approach because nobody can be perfect.  Bypassing:  Does not begin something with an “out” already in place (20%). Says NO TO SELF with regards to cheat days and gives 100% — spot on as best as possible every day.  Avoids a deviation (of his/her own choosing) at all costs.  Prepares meals (intentional mindset) ahead of time to stay on point knowing that true results require an all out effort, with no room for potential derailment.

Over the years of practice I have personally learned the importance of Bypassing.  It has brought me to a place of Discipline in areas of my life where I can look back and say, “I DID it!  I actually DID IT!!”  And what a feeling that is — to accomplish something you set out to do by taking the action necessary to govern yourself and your decisions.  I want everyone to experience that feeling!  Was I ALWAYS PERFECT in my execution?  No.  Remember, the path to discipline is made through trial and error, failures and a “get back up” mentality.  It requires a relinquishing of the “Passing By” mindset that says, “What will it hurt?  It’ll only be for a minute.  Take that one little moment to comfort yourself.  You deserve to go off your path just a teesny-tiny bit.”  That’s enemy territory, my friends.  Put on your armor and go to war with yourself and your excuses, with the temptations that sneer at you at every turn.  Re-Route, take a detour, navigate a different path, create a new passage.  BYPASS your way to your Disciplined Success!  Fight for it and for yourself on the daily!  And, when you reach that pinnacle you will have the ability, and sincere privilege, to look back and say, “I DID IT!  I ACTUALLY DID IT!!”

Yours in Fitness,

~M

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