Insert Motivational Quote Here:

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*Taps mic*

Hello? Hi. Hi there. I’m Dana. Your motivational speaker. So….  How’s everybody doing today?

I’m here today to tell you more about The FABULOUSNESS THAT IS NOVEMBER and light a fire under that tired-out soul of yours.

If, that is, your soul is actually tired. Perhaps it’s all shiny and ok. Mine was not, so here I am.

This morning I walked the dog and and did some sort of nonsense called Fitness Blender, where sweet and annoyingly chipper Kelli tells me to squat, and I squat. Sometimes she adds kicks to the squats and this makes me feel all flair-ish, so there’s that.

The weather was cool and foggy and I BLASTED this song while I walked sweet Hosmer. All rather simple things.

But I have to tell you, Hosmer was so GRATEFUL for a walk. (He’s grateful for anything, really. My days with him are a regular immersion in furry gratitude. Case in point: He is currently sitting on my feet looking at me with such adoration he basically has become his own emoji.)

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Picture is blurry because dog moving. He keeps trying to come in to lick me.

Also, I have worked on THIS:

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This is not life shattering, I know. Every month, I get out my felt tip pens (all the pretty colors!) and I plan my month. I used to color code it for children and adults and all… but then I realized pretty much all of it sorta morphed into all children all the time, because they consume my life, so I just use colors that make me happy.

Also, I draw turkeys really badly.

But, I guess what I’m trying to say is… (*clears throat, attempts highly motivational voice*)

IF YOU PLAN TO PLAN, YOU’LL FAIL TO PLAN.

Oh wait. No, other way around. (*clears voice again, all the while realizing that motivational speaking might not be my jam*)

If you fail to plan… you can plan.. to fail? Right? That’s it, right?

Right?

We’re only on day 2, people. Progress, not perfection.funny-pictures-cat-does-not-think-plan-will-fail.jpg

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Lose Weight in Five Easy Steps!

Ok. Just lied. There are not really Super Easy steps for weight loss. Gotcha there. I doubt I could even tie my shoes in Five Easy Steps.

Nothing comes easy. Especially the good stuff.

Or, as my dad usually says, “Life is hard. Get over it.”

Generally, working out to get in shape is, you know, work. It’s one of those sweet sayings that one should cross-stitch on a pillow:

I Could Lose Ten Pounds Today But To Do That I’d Have To Cut Off My Arm.

I know. Kinda grim. Stay with me. It can only go up from here.

So, it’s January. You know what that means, right?

Gym memberships are OFF the CHARTS. Like, everyone and their dog (or in this case, cat) got up, got off the couch, and decided, once and for all, it is time to GET IN SHAPE! Woo hoo!

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And… then, we start to slide into February.

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And before you know it? This.

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By the way? There are a heck of a lot of pictures of fat cats on the great interwebs, y’all. Total time sucker. Fat cats are my spirit animal.

Anyway. Here’s the truth of it. I have not been at my best weight in about a year. Or maybe two. Or seven. Something like that. I have a small issue with perception. I think I’m totally hot.

Well, I am totally hot. But I also think, I am totally in shape  (which I’m not). Could be because I like to wear what we mommies call: “workout gear” a lot. This means: Hoodies and sweatpants. On some days, a bra. There is a lotta give in sweatpants, y’all.

As for the no bra thing? I just do that to keep you guessing.

In reality?

Well, I could post another picture of a fluffy cat that is big-boned, but I think I might have hit my max on that.

This year has been awesome. My book, Bottled: A Mom’s Guide to Early Recovery was published by Central Recovery Press. I got to travel all sorts of places to talk about the book. I even got to be on tv! And I had good hair! It has been awesome.

But along with all that awesome has been a crazy schedule and some hard-core (not the abs kind) stress. And for me? Stress  = cheese.

I am tired. And lately, my body is having a conversation with me that just isn’t working anymore. It goes like this:

Head: Ok! Let’s tackle this day!! Let’s do this!

Body: You go ahead. I’m tired. There’s some cheese in the fridge. I’m gonna head that way and I’ll meet you over at the “this” you keep talking about later.

Head: Impossible. You and me, kid? We’re in this together. Otherwise it gets weird.

Body: Cheese.

 

Lately I have been wanting a change. I miss running. I do run still, but not consistently, and not with any passion. I miss feeling strong. Feeling fast. I miss the simple joy of it.

Let me introduce you to my friend, Jill McKay. I met Jill when I spoke at the Whole Women’s Weekend this past summer. She is a fitness coach,  and I am going to be working with her for the next months or so to try and get my mojo back.

Head: Did you hear that? We’re gonna get our mojo! And then we’re gonna tell everyone about it! It’s called accountability! It’s awesome.

Body: What is this mojo you speak of? It sounds like a drink. The one with the mint.

Head: That’s a mojito and it used to mojo you up all the time. But, now, you drink seltzer and lime. We don’t mojo with substances anymore, remember?

Body: Ok. Can’t I just have some cheese?

Head: MOJO IS NOT BEHIND CHEESE. BACK OUT OF THE FRIDGE.

Jill is a wellness warrior. She has a heart for women who are desperately searching for their mojo, and she is helping many of us find it. Mojo doesn’t really have anything to do with cheese. More on Jill later, but I am going to include this link to her New Beginnings series on her blog. I love it because her goals are VERY similar to mine this year. And, there’s a journal in there, and that is my favorite mojo-tracker ever.

If I write the word “mojo” again I think I might break this post. It’s a funny little word. Like, “qualms.”

Yes. I have no qualms about saying the word “qualms.”

Ok! Well! I think we’re about done here. I’ll just excuse myself to get some more coffee, before this post turns into Words with Friends. Lacking focus today. Could be the cheese.

Click here to read Jill’s post on doing These Two Things for our health. You’ll be glad you did.

Oh, and also this. Because. He’s not fat. He’s fluffy.

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Hey! did you know I wrote a book? Yep. Click on the pic if you would like to know more!

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I’d Like to Schedule a Meeting. Click Reply.

Linking up with Kate Motaung over at Five Minute Fridays today!

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I’m sitting on the floor on my bathroom. I have two boys, and one husband. Therefore, the floor is not the best place to be. The bathroom has a door, however, and for the most part it is shoved shut.

Except my cat, somehow, manages to get in here now. And he is staring at me, as cats do, all up in my face. Like somehow this staring business is going to make me get up and get him a smelly kitty treat.

I am not. I am going to stay right here.

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I am crying a little. I am also wondering where my waist went. It got, um, disappeared. I had just returned from a shopping trip where I had bludgeoned myself with changing room! bright lights! mirrors all over! dresses that seemed right and then when I put them on they turned into impossible cloth torture devices! a horrible feeling of “who are you kidding” malaise!

I was tired out by all that. So, the bathroom.

Also this: my children. The sweet little babies were whining so much this afternoon that I thought maybe they were, like, training for some sort of whining tournament later.

This was PULITZER whining. This was whining that could get you into the FRACKITY-FRACK WHINING OLYMPICS.

As I sat on that bathroom floor, with my cat all mouth breathing on me, and the linoleum screamed “Ebola! Plague! Disgusting! Clean me, now!!’ at me, I kinda hated my life.

Remember when you didn’t have children? The children that took your waist? Remember that? You used to read the freaking newspaper, woman. On a Saturday morning. With coffee. In BED.

I realize that I kinda hate everything.

And then, the cat came a little closer. Always one for barging through social boundaries, he leaned on me. And something kinda happened.

I leaned on him.

He purred. And I put my hand on his warm little head and I remembered something:

I am supposed to pray when I get like this.

And then, Jesus, who is always here with me, even in my bathroom of despair, said:

“I really think it’s time we get together. I’ve been trying to call you into a meeting all morning! Will you please reply?”

I sniffled.

“We can’t meet here. It’s like, gross. And I’m a mess.”

Jesus, always one for barging through all social boundaries, sat right down next to me, amidst the fur and germs, and said,

“I can do mess. Let’s meet. Right now. Before you switch over to doom and gloom forever. And then, let’s just keep meeting, like this, all day. Ok?”

He reminds me of this every day. The cat is sometimes His messenger. I know, it’s a cat. But for right now? He’s a Messenger from God. With fur on.

Why yes, I am wearing a tutu. It compliments my eyes. And yes, that is a furball photobomb in the background.
Why yes, I am wearing a tutu. It compliments my eyes. And yes, that is a furball photobomb in the background. She’s such a diva.

Cast all your anxieties on Him, because He cares for you. I Peter 5:7