We have a running joke in our family in regards to Milo and Ryan.  Every time Ryan asks Milo to join him for a run Milo gets this look of panic in his eyes.  His 65 pound body tries to curl up onto my lap as if to say “Save me!!!”  

When Ryan asks him a second time Milo runs and hides behind the big pillows on our bed. 

How many of you feel like this when asked to exercise???

When I ask Milo if he wants to go he has a completely different reaction.  He excitedly hops off the bed and runs to his leash. 

We have compared all the possible differences.  Ryan only asks Milo to run when he’s heading out for slower/shorter runs so we don’t think it’s the speed.  Ryan lets him sniff bushes every once in a while and tells him he’s a good boy just like I do.  He runs the same route Milo and I run.  It has baffled us for the longest time as to Milo’s behavior.  But then I realized there was one glaring difference.  Ryan starts running the moment he steps out of the front door.  I, on the other hand, walk with Milo for about seven to eight minutes until we get to the park.  I need that time to warm up and mentally ease myself into the idea of working out.  I believe, Milo also needs that time.

How many times have we found ourselves not having exercised for the sixth week in a row and then decide “Today!  Today is the day I’m going to start exercising!!”  So we hit it hard.  We hit it so hard we hate every second of it, and then our body reminds us for several days afterwards how painful that workout was.  Despite feeling glorious from all the endorphins immediately following the workout, we don’t exercise for another six weeks. 

Our subconscious is a nasty little thing, and it is oh so influential.  The next time we think about exercising our subconscious will remind us how hard it was and how much we suffered afterwards.  And it just takes one little subconscious reminder to sabotage all of our good intentions.

I’ve seen this over and over again.  I’ve even seen it with my own kids.  Bless my daughter’s heart.  She wanted to head out for a run one day and decided she would do walking lunges for a very long stretch on the way back.  She couldn’t walk normal for days, and I’m pretty sure that’s the last time she has attempted any sort of lunge.

I think most people picture the Biggest Loser with the contestants working so hard they succumb to tears and vomiting.  They believe this is the only way to have an effective workout, but I’m telling you right now exercise does not need to be like that for it to be effective.  In fact, I guarantee if you try and start with that level of intensity you will more than likely fail.

You just need to pick something you enjoy, start out slow and be consistent.   You can walk, run, swim, dance, Zumba, bike, play tennis…anything…as long as you start out slow and be consistent.

My sister, Debbie, didn’t like exercise for as long as I can remember.  She would occasionally ride bikes with her kids or go snow skiing, but regular exercise was not part of her repertoire.  That all changed two years ago. 

She signed up for a membership at the YMCA, and started by using the elliptical for 20-30 minutes at a lower level while she watched shows on her iPad.  She did this about three to four times per week.  She told me at first it was hard to talk herself into going, because it wasn’t part of her regular routine.  But then I remember her telling me several months in she felt excited because she was able to increase the level and the amount of time on the machine.  Now, she takes kick boxing classes and runs lines with the rest of the class.  On her birthday, we found her at the high school track.

There are three things Debbie talks about with excitement and happiness 1) her family 2) her job and 3) her exercise classes.

She has never said what clicked and made her decide to join the gym, and I never really asked.  But the changes in her since she made that decision have been significant.  At first I could see it in her demeanor and attitude.  In time, the changes on the outside started to reflect the change she felt on the inside.

From where I sit, I believe Debbie has been successful because:

A)     She picked a form of exercise she would ENJOY. 

B)      She started out SLOW.

C)      She was CONSISTENT.  She picked a time of day that worked for her schedule and committed herself three to four days of the week.

If you are struggling to make exercise a part of your routine, you are not alone.   I would strongly suggest you ‘Do it like Debbie.’

She’s probably going to hate me for saying that, but I can’t say ‘Do it like Milo.’  Walking around with a leash around your neck would just be weird.

Tuesday and Thursday mornings my sister and I meet @ 5:30 for a 90 minute conditioning class.  I’ve taken several different types of workout classes in my life, but this one is by far the best.  It’s challenging and fun.  The instructor is awesome and the camaraderie between the fellow participants is cool.  This morning my sister couldn’t attend so I flew solo.  I was tempted to skip it and take the dog for a run, but I didn’t.  I woke up to my alarm at 4:40, got dressed, grabbed my bag and found myself in the class before I was fully awake.

The class started out as it normally does with warm ups, lunges, mountain climbers, weights, etc.  Halfway through the class the instructor asked us to put everything away.  The great thing about this class is no two sessions are alike.  We never know what to expect.  “Today” he says “we’re heading outside.” 

“You need to run for about ¾ mile.  When you get to the bottom of the hill  you need to stop and do 20 squats and 10 push-ups.  Then sprint for 30 seconds up the hill.  Stop and do 20 squats and 9 push- ups.    Continue the pattern as you make your way up the hill until you finish with 1 push up.”  

“Once you're done run back up the other hill and return to the gym.”

Hmmm….seems tough but doable…

I tell you what, I can’t remember the last time I felt as tired and wiped out.  I couldn’t squat all the way because my legs were like jelly.  My sprint was more of a shuffle.  I didn’t even have enough time/energy to finish all the sets before he had everyone run back.  It was during my run back I realized….I WAS DEAD LAST. 

It reminded me of the triathlon my husband and I ‘competed’ in together a few years ago.  He was in training for an Ironman, but wasn’t very comfortable in the water.  He had tried to finish a triathlon a few weeks earlier and dropped out during the swim because he had been kicked pretty hard in the head.   The swim portion of a triathlon can be very intimidating and scary.  Everyone is thrashing, goggles are kicked off and people swim over the top of you.  Because I knew he needed to finish this swim to feel confident heading into the Ironman I decided to swim with him.

I’m an average swimmer, but very comfortable in the water.  Part way through the swim Ryan starts to struggle.  I tread water as he’s yelling at me to “GO ON!!”  I laugh now because the script could have been taken from the movie Titanic.  “I’m not going to leave you!”  I yelled.  “Just GOOO!”  He yelled back.  I put my face in the water and pretended like I was swimming so I could stay close by and ensure he finished. 

When we exited the swim the only people behind us were the volunteers manning the safety kayaks. 

I was an average swimmer, below average cyclist and a below average runner. 

Ryan was a below average swimmer, above average cyclist and an above average runner. 

After stripping off our wetsuits Ryan hopped on his bike and TOOK OFF. 

I was okay with this until I was nearing the end of the run.   A few of the little boys handing out water at some aid stations asked me a few different times “Are you the last one??” 

If you have never experienced coming in dead last, you should.  Sign up for a run, a spelling bee, a dance competition, a karaoke competition…anything you know you will not be good at.  It’s not about being humbled.  It’s about seeing the best and worst sides of yourself in those moments.  What do you tell yourself?  How do you move forward?  Are you defeated or are you inspired for change? 

Myself?  I turn inward.  I start to crumble.  The voices in my head are similar to the voices of mean girls on the playground.   “You’re so slow. You’ll always be slow.”  “You’re pathetic.” “You’re chubby and out of shape.  How embarrassing!”  “Good thing your sister wasn’t here so you didn’t hold her back.”  I would never say these mean things to a friend, to my sister, to my children, yet I’m berating myself over and over again.

As I ran back to the gym the negative thoughts were multiplying like weeds inside me.  They were feeding off of each other and growing like wild fire.  I could see the 2nd to last person way off into the distance and I remembered how I had almost skipped.  I had almost skipped class this morning, but didn’t.   It was in  that moment there was a shift in my thoughts. 

I started to think of the positives.   I might have been last in the group of people who did the exercise, but I was faster than the group of people who decided to opt out and never start.  I was faster than the large part of me who wanted to stay in bed and hit snooze another 20 times. 

I started to acknowledge my thoughts and their power.  With every negative thought, I countered with a positive.  “You made it to class even though you didn’t want to.”  “You bust your ass in these classes and don’t give up.”  “You did a great thing for your body this morning.”  “You were faster than everyone else who’s still sleeping”.  

This continued on while I got ready in the locker room and as I drove to work.  It was almost…almost as exhausting as the workout itself.   I started to greet the negative thoughts sort of ridiculously. “Oh hello.   I’ve been expecting you!”  As the negative thought would try to sneak its way in, I would counter it and then dismiss it.

Our mind is a dangerous, dangerous place.  If we feed it with negativity it will breed discouragement and unhappiness.    It’s a battle.  A tough battle.  Especially when some of our beliefs have thick roots that planted themselves long ago. 

Acknowledge your thoughts and beliefs.  Determine if they serve you.  If they are negative don’t continue to feed it.   Counter it and crush it.

Lastly, just because I love and trust you, I’ve included this masterpiece taken of me finishing my very first triathlon.  It doesn’t get much better than this.  B.E.A.U.T.I.F.U.L.  If you have a race photo you’d like to share, do so in the Facebook comments. We all need to get a little real up in here.

As Father’s Day approaches I reflect on all the fathers in my life.  I think of my husband, my ex-husband, my brother, my two brother-in-laws, my father-in-law and my ex father-in-law.  I think of all the wonderful men in my life who have impacted me and my kids in unexplainable ways.

I especially think about my own father.

Shortly after my dad passed away people would tell me someday I would be able to think about him without sadness. They told me someday I would remember the good times and smile.  Someday I would recall his sense of humor and laugh. 

This is all true…most days.  But there are still those days I hurt for our loss.

My heart still aches at the unfairness our dad was taken from us too soon.   I feel the absence of his embrace and long for the feel of his whiskers on my cheek.  I miss the way he would walk into the room and make everyone feel comfortable and happy in a remarkable way.  I miss his wit and his ability to make people laugh without feeling laughed at.  I miss the way in which he loved me…truly loved me without condition.

The days I miss my father the most are on Saturdays when I sit in the stands watching my son play baseball.  As I sit with 10 other family members, it is in those moments I feel the absence of my dad.  He loved watching Austin play baseball.  

When he was in the hospital undergoing chemo we set up a webcam so he could watch the games from his hospital bed.  Before my dad was sick he would sit on the hot metal bleachers with the sun blazing and sweat rolling down his cheeks.  He would loudly exclaim “I sure picked the wrong day to wear my leather underwear.”  

When Austin was a little guy I arrived at one of his games with my whole family already sitting in the stands and Austin in tears.  Austin had mistakenly wore his cup without the special underwear and his cup was rubbing him raw.   To make Austin laugh my dad yelled out to him on the field “Austin, did you remember to put the cup on in the front or in the back?” 

He was the biggest fan of his family.  Whether it was a dance recital, piano recital, talent show, drill team competition, basketball game, football game, triathlon or baseball game he was always present.  He always put his family first.  He postponed his admittance to the hospital for his chemotherapy treatment so he could watch his granddaughter sing a solo in her 5th grade talent show.

My siblings and I laughed so silly the other weekend when my dog, Milo, ran up to a group of ladies and began sniffing one of their behinds quite inappropriately.  It was at that moment we remembered how our dad would have handled the situation. When my parent’s dog would greet visitors at the door with a good ‘ol crotch sniff, instead of awkwardly trying to pull the dogs away my dad would ask “You’re not in heat, are you??”

He would talk to little girls in the grocery store who were wearing the princess dress they wore for Halloween by saying “Oh my goodness. Don’t you look beautiful!?!”  He made grocery clerks laugh when he closed his eyes and crossed his fingers as he waited for his credit card to clear saying “Please go through.  Please go through.”  When he was on the ventilator in the Intensive Care Unit the nurse told him his numbers were improving slightly and he could maybe have the ventilator removed.  He pointed at my mom and gestured for hanky panky.

He loved his friends deeply, loved his family fiercely and loved his wife the most.   He worked hard to not only put food on the table, but to create memories that have lasted a lifetime.  He loaded gear in the car every Saturday to take his family snow skiing. He launched the boat every summer teaching countless kids and adults how to water ski.  He ended his weekends with sore muscles from all of his DIY projects.  He was firm with discipline, but generous with his love and affection. 

On occasion, I still find myself feeling sorry at the unfairness of our loss.  I sometimes feel robbed of the extra time I wanted with a wonderful man.  But when I think of who he was, what he did for his family and the legacy he left, I feel lucky I had him for a father even if it were only for the briefest of time.