It's Mothers Day Tomorrow

I can't believe I'm telling you this but if my words experience can impact another human in a positive way, I'm all for it.

Mother's day is not my favourite day of the year.  I think every day is Mother's day.  We are so privileged to have the opportunity to have and raise our children.  It's an honour so many people take for granted, I know because I am one of them.  You might not think so, knowing my story but all too often as humans we get caught up in daily life and forget to take a moment, live in the moment and enjoy the little things that life brings.

I am adopted.  I was adopted at 2 weeks old by the most loving parents a girl could ask for.  My parents gave me all the love and support I could ever want and they blessed me with an extended family that means the world to me.  In short - they ROCK.  My dad says when something hurts one of us it hurts us all and we band together like no family I know.  I am forever grateful that God found a way to put me with them.

I know a little bit about my "birth" family.  My birth mother was a very proud woman with other children.  The circumstances of my birth were difficult for her and her decision was to give me up.  I think of her on Mother's day every year and thank her from the bottom of my heart for doing what she did.  Little does she know that her decision to give me to a loving family would pay itself forward eighteen years later when I did the very same thing.

You see, I gave a baby up for adoption as well.  Right out of high school I made some stupid decisions and found myself pregnant.  Just a little over a month before my 19th birthday I gave birth to a baby girl.  I never really saw her.  I remember seeing dark hair and fat little legs and begging the nurses to get her out of the room before I could see more.  I don't really think there was a dry eye in the room at that moment.  You see this happened in a very small town and those nurses had known me since I was born.  My mom was also in the delivery room with me through the whole thing.  My mom hadn't had children from her body and she had just watched her daughter give birth to a baby she would never  know.  From the bottom of my heart I feel that she never really was my baby.  Carrying her and my feelings for her were so different than those when I carried my sons.  She was someone else's child.  Never mine.

Now some 33 years later I think about her and wonder about her.  Is she happy?  Were her parents good to her?  All those corny questions you see in a Hallmark movie play through my head at random times of the year.  They are most active during April, her birthday month and in May around my birthday and Mother's day.

I get a little moody around Mother's day when I see all the commercials on TV and watch families trying so hard to make mom's day perfect.  It seems that the commercialism of the day is everywhere.  Like any Hallmark holiday it is thrust upon us begging us to spend money to make mom happy.  I find the whole concept quite offensive actually.  There are so many people in situations where they are separated from their parents or children.  They may not be able to afford all that the TV says we need to buy to make mom happy.  So then they feel inadequate or unloved.  Sucky!

Instead of buying into all of the commercialism that is Mother's day, why don't we just do something nice for someone else?  Make dinner, spend some time, phone home, volunteer, make a donation.  Anything but feed the machine that is making some of us quite crazy.  My husband an kids used to ask what I wanted for Mother's day.  I always said I wanted to be left alone.  The pressure was always so great to make everything perfect that invariably someone always ended up eating dinner in the car if we went to a restaurant when the kids were little.  So much pressure on the little ones that they just couldn't behave.  No thanks.

So, Mother's day is tomorrow.  Hug your mom if she is still here.  This is my second Mother's day without my mom and I miss her.  Hug your kids if you are lucky enough to have them in your life.  Say a thankful prayer for all the blessings you do have in your life and say another prayer for those moms that don't.

Let's make this world a better, more compassionate place.

With love, and Happy Mother's Day

k

Leaving Your Comfort Zone AKA...OHMYGOD I'm Gonna Throw Up!

It's been a little while, sorry for that.  I can't believe I'm telling you this......

Over the last several years I have spent a lot of time outside of my "personal bubble" or my comfort zone.  It all started in earnest in 2009 although I can remember small incidents of breaking out of the zone throughout my life.  I can say though that 2009 was the start of a prolonged dipping of the toes into the mire of the unknown.  Whew!

As humans we can be drawn into the easy or the comfortable.  We use the fear of the unknown to keep us on the path we currently walk.  Terms like security, risk, unknown, danger and such come up when one expresses to another person an idea that does not fit within the "norm".  How many people do you know personally that stay in a dead end job or relationship or club because they are too stuck in their comfort zone, however destructive, to try to crawl out.

My leap was totally not a leap.  My venture started with weight loss.  A decision to change the way I ate.  That's it.  Nothing more than that.  But then was that really all that it was?  NO!!!  The decision to eat differently was actually a huge, huge leap outside my comfort zone.  My family, co-workers and friends were used to one kind of Kathi - and suddenly, really suddenly, here was a new one.  Their discomfort at my change could have stalled me right there.  Their negative feedback, however misguided and from their own place of fear, disguised as knowing what's best or me, could have derailed everything and I could be that same person today.  I didn't listen however.  From there the steps outside kept coming.  First entering the world of fitness professionals (kicking and screaming - I never meant to become a trainer), to teaching IN FRONT OF PEOPLE..OH MY GOD... to giving seminars and talks about fitness and health, to blogging and putting it all out there...and who knows what is to come.

You all should know this about me....I am really comfortable addressing or speaking to a room full of people...the more the better.  Put me in front of one or two people OR ask me to do something physical in front of someone and I want to lose my cookies.  Heart pounding, sweating, shaking, wanna run for the hills nervous.  But I learned something along the way about myself and very recently a good friend through her network put into words for me exactly how I manage to get through this.  Drumroll please.

20 seconds of courage.  That's it.  Where I have stepped outside my comfort zone I have needed 20 seconds of courage.  Some things take 20 seconds...pushing send on an email, saying hello or approaching someone, saying no etc.  Some other things require you to get through the first 20 seconds to realize you are not going to barf, your clothes aren't going to disintegrate and you are not going to fall on your face.  20 seconds....that's it.  My group fitness students will hear me echo in their heads....you can do anything for 20 seconds, come on...get going. So that's what I have done!
, by the way, I have only just begun...I am nowhere near finished JUMPING outside my comfort zone.  I'm just getting warmed up.  I am telling you this for one reason and one reason only.  If a small town, insecure, overweight, terrified, SHY girl can find her voice and her passion...you can too!  Just take 20 seconds and get over it!

Kathi

Christmas Goodies....or Maybe I'm a Bad Person

Merry Christmas Everyone!

I hope Santa wedged his way down your chimney or hauled his butt through your front door to bring you all that you wished to receive this year.  I can't say that I could have wished for any more (realistically anyway) or that I would have been "happier" if the jolly fat man had brought more stuff into my world.

I really do (sometimes) like Christmas.  There are times (like this year) where I wished the earth would swallow me whole and swoop me away to a magical place that was HOLIDAY FREE.  Just a few days, was it really too much to ask?  Apparently the answer is YES.

You see it's not Christmas I dislike per se, it is the commercialism, perceived gluttony, greed and oh-so-many mixed messages that we are bombarded with once the USA's Black Friday has come and gone.

Let me start with the commercials.  The suits on Madison Avenue or wherever the f$*%&$ the advertising mecca is in Canada have turned every stinking product known to man into a possible acceptable Christmas gift for your loved ones.  One of my friends (oh so rightly) noted early in December the happy woman on the front of the Crappy Tire flyer that was getting the pots and pans.  WTF?  If you like sleeping on the couch, by all means, buy her this gift.  And who, really who gets a Lexus, Honda, Toyota or Cadillac for Christmas?  And are you really happy that your spouse cleaned out the bank account or your credit for that gift?  Come on people.

Then there are the commercials that tug at your heart strings.  What, exactly, are they supposed to make you think about?  Are we all supposed to strive for the perfect, snowy, warm glow of the fire, ugly sweater family gathering where everyone is smiling?  OK...what if that's not your particular family?  Everyone is there, Uncle Joe is drunk and is telling everyone how he feels about them, Aunt June is in to corner apologizing, the kids are unhappy because Dad is hogging the video game and nobody is helping mom with the dinner.  So, have we failed because our Christmas Day does not look like the commercials?  I don't think so, but I am only one woman, a cynical one at that.  And, if life is not being particularly kind to you at this "most wonderful time of the year" can you get through the commercials, stories and sickly sweet vignettes without hucking something at the TV?  Really, give me a break.

Then there is all the advice about how to "survive" the holiday parties.  Why the heck are we so focused on deprivation at this time of year?  It doesn't make any sense whatsofrickinever to me.  The magazines, TV news shows and HGTV are all loaded with holiday recipes and ideas and a few pages or few minutes later we are bombarded with how to work off those unwanted holiday pounds.  Better yet we are warned how much we are going to over-indulge at all of those holiday parties and the anchors and "special guests" are all so excited about telling us how to "get through" a holiday party and avoid the food....eat before you go, drink water, only eat the vegetables etc etc etc.  The worst part of the whole thing is, if you have partied like this (and let's be clear, we all know someone who has) you have to tell EVERYONE how you got through last night's party only eating a celery stalk and drinking lemon water.  Well weren't you the best guest ever.  Bet you were standing alone, miserable and self righteous.  Life of the party!  Go, have fun and if you are able and something strikes your fancy, try it!  You are not going to spontaneously combust by eating a butter tart.  Eating 20, maybe...but that's another blog.  Balance people, we need balance.

I work in fitness.  So I was really interested in checking out my Facebook news feed this week as Christmas Day came and went.  It seemed like so many people were punishing themselves (or at least telling us about it) for one day of indulgence.  Talking about going to the gym or lifting is one thing.  Saying you are out the door first thing to "work off all the christmas baking" is something else entirely.  Again, balance.  One of the things we talk about a lot in fitness is how it's not what happens the week between Christmas and New Years that's the problem.  It's the other 51 weeks that happened that year.  Think about it for awhile....I'll wait.

Anyway, after a craptastic year Christmas came and went.  We had an amazing time with family ranging in age from 20 to 90.  We ate all day long (grazed really) on food my sister-in-law sacrificed her finger for, drank a little too much and laughed more than a family should.  We ended Christmas Day with a pyjama party that rocked.  Too many people for the house and two dogs that think they are people rounded out the mix.  We also had a visit from young men who are their neighbours that proved to us that disabilities are incorrectly named.  They were inspirational and showed us more about what Christmas is really about.  Family, friends, neighbours and giving.  I wouldn't have had it any other way.

Did Santa come?  Yes he did.  Did he leave a Lexus or a new house?  Thankfully no.  We received ENOUGH.

Pink Shirt Day is Coming...My experience

It's Monday and here in BC it's a new holiday called Family Day.  Or its kind of a holiday.  Depends on who you are talking to.  The provincial government didn't really think this one through.  For me it means I get to catch up on paperwork and focus on getting shit done without the normal everyday weekday interruptions.

Every day I step out of my comfort zone.  I have learned over the past few years not to think of it like that.  But it's true.  I spend so much of my day doing things that even a few years ago would have made me sick to my stomach for days prior.

I can remember being that terrified girl trying to walk into a gym, any gym.  Now I teach several different classes where people look to me to show them what to do.  I can remember when I took my motorcycle driver's license exam being so nervous because the examiner was going to critique my riding.  It was something physical that someone was going to judge.  SCARY.

For most people that's not a big deal.  For me it's HUGE!  In my business and in my life I acknowledge that I am "different".  I do believe it's a good thing.  I don't look totally like the TV version of a Personal Trainer.  I don't seek the "typical" personal training client.  That's ok - not everybody wants that.  Being "different" however has its drawbacks.

When I was a little girl I was different.  Not only was I adopted I was FAT.  That statement sums a lot up for me.  I was teased relentlessly.  Now at 51 years old I can recognize what happened as actual bullying.  Back in the day however it wasn't recognized the way it is today.  It wasn't only the kids in school although some were awful.  It existed within my own family.  It was inescapable.  Being called whale, whaler-taylor lasted all through high school.  Snide comments by kids about my weight or my abilities were daily occurrences.  From my family sometimes it was worse.  I won't name names...but as a child being called Mama Cass over and over to walking into a room meeting family for the first time hearing "look at the size of her" to even as a fully grown adult having my elder family members feel it appropriate to comment directly to me about my weight - not in a helpful way.      I learned really quickly to make fun of myself.  I wasn't going to wait for someone to hurt me.  I was going to make fun of myself before you could.  Classic get them before they get me.

In a previous workplace I experienced the teasing as well.  One time at a convention in Toronto a group of "cool" coworkers called my room at 4am to tell me that my reservation to return home had been changed.  I could have missed my flight had I listened.   I will say that the ringleader of this group called me about 10 years after this happened to apologize - it had bothered her all those years.

Consequently I don't like being teased.  I don't handle it well - even in the most benign forms.  I don't like balloons even.  I don't like surprises - they actually terrify me.  I spent weeks convincing my husband that he should NOT throw me a surprise party when I turned 50.  I pleaded with him.  I'm truly lucky he understands this part of me and supports me.

One of the offshoots or byproducts of my past is that I have a terrible time asking for help of any kind.  I will try everything I can think of to solve a problem or make something happen before I will look for assistance.  It drives my husband nuts.  Asking for help in the past at times has resulted in more bullying and teasing so I would rather not.  Most recently asking for help resulted in my being mocked in a very public forum.  I'm not sure the person that mocked me even understood that was what she was doing and the impact it had on my personally and professionally.

So, why am I telling you this?  A couple of reasons.  By sharing my experiences perhaps someone might think twice about the way they interact with someone else.  We might not realize that the words we are using hurt so much.  Even though one person might be laughing on the outside.  On the inside it's a different story.

The other reason is that Pink Shirt Day is coming up toward the end of February.  You can bet that I will be wearing pink to support people that are experiencing bullying in their lives.  We need to make it stop.

Let's take a stand.  May your words be used to heal, uplift and support.

Kathi

It's Just One of "Those" Days...

It's the kind of day that strikes fear into my husband's dear heart.  And I don't blame him at all.  He's a fixer and surely once he gets home today he's going to do his ever loving best to try to find a solution for my day.  But here's the thing, how does one fix (are you ready for it?) FEELINGS?

You don't, that's how.  You have to feel them and let them run their course.  So here I am over here "feeling things"  Oh CRAP!

I don't know if any of you guys ever have these days.  I don't have them often but every once in awhile I don't get enough sleep or don't eat properly or something doesn't go as planned and whammo I question everything I have done.

Let me explain just a bit.  Now, understand I am not looking for any sympathy or someone to fix this.  I am merely venting.  Somehow transmitting the feelings out through my hands onto the computer screen is somewhat cathartic and ultimately freeing.  Understand?

Today I am feeling somewhat sorry for myself.  Inadequate, not good enough, a poser, a joke, you name it, it's going through my head today.  Here's why.  I think I am trying hard to make a life in an industry that is predicated somewhat on how you look. How others perceive you is vastly important and is somewhat the way you and your success is measured and judged.  Why I decided to go into the fitness industry seems like such a mystery to me at this moment but deep down I know it's what I am meant to do.  I am meant to help people plain and simple.  I wish others saw it that way sometimes.

There are times when I have taught a class or gone in as a sub in a class that wasn't mine and had people see me and walk out, I have been laughed at, snickered at, ignored and passed over.  I have also been hugged, appreciated, complimented and praised.  It is unfortunate that the negative outshines the positive in so many ways.  And on days like today I can only visualize the negative.  I don't like that.

For those of you that don't know me, I wasn't always a gym rat.  Sure I worked out, but I worked out and ate my way to over 300lbs in the winter of 2008.  By the summer of 2012 I was down to 180lbs and feeling wonderful about myself.

November 28, 2008      September 29, 2012

 Not bad…but even with that kind of weight loss and all of the attention that comes with it there are still times that one person's words can cut right through you and take you back to that awful time in your life.

Once while we were on vacation in Mexico we decided to go into one of the city's malls to do some "shopping".  At the time I had probably lost close to 90 lbs.  I had been staying in the city for almost 2 weeks and was used to the attitudes and the people.  I had been with my family in a condo on the beach, living on the economy, shopping for food and living life as if we were residents.  I had even joined a gym.

In the mornings I would run or go to the gym and we would spend the day at the beach, the pool or sight seeing, walking around the city.  So the moment that stands out the most for me on that vacation?  The moment I attempted to enter a swimsuit shop in said mall and the store keeper blocked the doorway.  When I tried to step around him, obviously not understanding his intentions, he moved to further block my passage.  I excused myself and he looked me in the eye and said "we have nothing in here for you"  I said pardon me as I was not believing what I heard.  He repeated his statement and further blocked the door.  I was mortified.  All of my hard work, all of my dedication and commitment were negated at that moment.  GONE!  I turned, stunned I walked away.  My husband could tell something wasn't right but I couldn't bring myself to utter the words.  Instead tears rolled silently down my cheeks and it was many days later before I could tell him what happened.  It still brings tears to my eyes thinking about it.

I know the statement proves more about his ignorance and character than my physical stature but that doesn't make the comment sting any less.  It ranks right up there with an older relative thinking it was funny to call me Cass (reference to Mama Cass from the Mama's and the Papa's) when I was a chubby child.  Not cool!

These things stay with you for your life.  I'm trying really hard to make my way, surrounding myself with people that are positive and committed and working my butt off to make this work.  But jeepers creepers some days it's hard.

Till next time,

Kathi