You’re paying more money at the grocery store, but look at how sneaky some food brands are getting you to do it…
click here to watch video in YouTube
Wednesday, November 14, 2012
Misfit family yoga
About five weeks ago I was lolling about and chatting at the gym working out intensely at my Lifetime fitness when I spied a flier announcing a family yoga workshop.
I read. I committed. I tweeted.
So excited for the FAMILY YOGA workshop @lifetimefitness #lifetimefitsme twitter.com/MizFitOnline/s…
— carla birnberg (@MizFitOnline) September 27, 2012
(here is where I point out this is NOT A SPONSORED POST. merely my family yoga ramblings.)
Even though Ive been slow to return to yoga it has always been a part of my relationship with the Tornado.
When she was tiny I took a yoga-for-kids teacher training just so she and I could do it together at home.
And because I can’t do anything tiny—I created ToGa. Initially that stood for TODDLER yoga till she grew and it became TORNADO yoga.
ToGa logo.While we still do DVDs together at home I knew she wanted more.
Id frequently stumble upon her hanging out in our playroom like this:
Before I headed to Fitbloggin she presented me with a YOGA travel mug on which she’d drawn the two of us ‘mid-practice’:
She *clearly* let me know she was curious what I did when I exited the domicile (GASP!) left the DVDs behind and actually attended a yoga class.
We marked the calendar with a big bold FAMILY YOGA!!!!!! and commenced counting down the days…until finally the day arrived.
It broke my heart it was so flipping cute when she slowly & deliberately selected our footwear with an eye to easy on and off.
Yes. we still have lottsa matching stuff.And we headed off to our workshop.
And we were both OFF THE CHARTS excited.
She couldnt believe she had her own mat!She insisted a ‘pre-workshop drink’ at the cafe was in order and I happily consumed the caffeine complied.
She insisted we take a photo and I happily passed the smartphone.
photo credit: TornadoAnd we were off to the yoga studio.
The studio which, to our dismay, WAS COMPLETELY EMPTY.
my ‘dismay’ faceYou see, the workshop had been canceled (due to lack of interest. people crazy!!) and they’d forgotten to tell us.
The Tornado? She cared not at all.
The Tornado? She unfurled our mats, gathered some blocks & got to teaching *me.*
She demo’ed.
DANG bridges were easier at age 6.She watched.
Im a one-trick MizFitShe would not take NO or FEAR for an answer.
photo credit: The TornadoAnd when she felt ‘finished’ she insisted we drive and do one last thing she **loved** to cap off our afternoon:
What did I learn from the FAMILY YOGA WORKSHOP which wasnt?
Time is still the most important gift we can give our loved ones. One on one. Being present.We dont need no stinkin’ workshop! Free reign over an empty studio and the chance to ‘be the expert’ was far more fun for the Tornado.I underestimate myself. Im too gentle with myself. When forced to feel the fear & do the wheel anyway I easily could. I hadnt tried in years. Id been afraid.I should be as resilient as the Tornado. On all levels. She quickly & HAPPILY adapted to our change in plans. She also embodies the facet of the definition (to recoil or spring back into shape after bending) I thought I NO LONGER DID until she forced lovingly helped me to do a wheel. I need to remember/mimic both of these traits more consistently.OLD SCHOOL ROCKS. Even with fancy iphone photobooth apps etc. the old time’y photobooths still bring the greatest joy.I realize this is a long post jam-packed with obvious yet profound to me AH HA moments. Thank you for indulging me.
Im moving…
Tornado & me on her first day home in Texas.(yes to carlabirnberg.com but that MONUMENTAL SHIFT shall come in 2013.)
The move to which I refer is away from my beloved ATX and onward & NORTHWARD to the bay area in California.
(Or is it Bay Area? See? Im already behind in the vernacular!)
The move to which I refer has absolutely zero impact on my blog and yet even just sharing on a few social media platforms Ive been touch by how youve leaped to connect me with friends/places/restaurants/schools in the area Im a little hesitant to begin to call home.
It has all reminded me of the positive POWER OF SOCIAL MEDIA and how much I look upon you as true friends—-and not strangerfriends*.
I cant lie to you — and to Ren Man’s huge dismay him either—and say Im excited about the relocation yet.
I love me some Texas. I adore me some heat. I embrace me the weird.
As a result this woman who doesnt love quotes has fallen back upon this one as a mantra (origin unknown. anyone?):
Change isnt part of life—change is life.
I figure if I can impart that wisdom to the Tornado at SIX she’ll be far far ahead of where I am at forty-three and a half.
And thats where I am today on this day after Halloween morning.
Moving.
Regrouping.
Working to embrace change.
Seeking your insights.
My new favorite tee?When was the last time you uprooted and moved? Any tips for this woman who has resided in the ATX for twelve years and has the clutter to prove it?Have you spent much time in the Bay Area (bay area?)? Is it as unflaggingly cold & damp as I surmise?Wanna come hang with me as I box stuff up? We could film a FAB packing-as-workout DVD!Im a misfit. In my early days of blogging I clearly delineated between friends I’d met in real life and those to whom I felt close yet had never met. Friends who could pass me on the street & Id not recognize although we emailed multiple times a day. Part strangers. Part friends.
Tags: MizFit on the move, where you live at?
Did you buy a MizFit workout skort?
YEP. I bought this one!I have the opportunity to git a skirt-mention on a pretty big website and would LOVE to feature *you.*
If youre so inclined (be inclined! be inclined!) email me a photo Im allowed to share of you wearing the skort.
(Yes you may crop out your face etc if you choose, but you know me I say LEAVE IT IN. You never know where things may lead in life…)
Carla at Carla Birnberg dot com
What’s that? You didnt get a skirt yet? Still planning, waiting & juggling funds?
Stay tuned.
There’s a give away coming this week.
Tags: MizFit Skort, wanna be semi-famous?
Tuesday, November 13, 2012
ZUMBA is my safe place (guest post).
When I asked Samantha to do a guest post I had delusions of grandeur. I thought Id write an amazing intro showering her with well-deserved praise and totally setting her up for all ya’ll to leave MY BLOG in a hurry and git over to hers to read the archives. The problem is….I cant. Reading the post below immediately transports me back to watching her teach ZUMBA at Fitbloggin and I sit transfixed. Her moves and freedom there were so beautiful…so compelling to look at…so PLAIN OLE SEXY CONFIDENT Im not embarrassed to say it brought tears to my eyes. Her joy was palpable and it made me wish we could all experience it—even fleetingly.
Samantha & her partner in Zumba crime: Mrs. FatassOne of the most frequent compliments I get after teaching a Zumba class is how confident I am and how much people covet how comfortable I am in my own skin.
People look at my short, stocky, 270 pound body and don’t see the extra jiggle that I see. People see the fact that I love what I’m doing and that I want them to get their groove thing shaking and will go to every length to get them to sweat more than they think possible – including being a total fool. They see that I OWN my choreography and push it to the limits. They see sass and attitude and power.
And honestly, it’s kind of amazing for me to try to see myself through their eyes. Why? Because I am one of the most anxious and nervous people you could ever meet UNLESS I’m in Zumba.
So what is it about Zumba that is so different? Is it the Zumbawear? Is it the music? Is it the choreography?
Not really. Those are all great but…
What’s so different about Zumba in my eyes is how the class itself embraces people being different and finding your own style. From the first time I walked in to Zumba class I felt the often touted “Zumba love.” Zumba became my safe place.
Instructors are taught to encourage their students to modify every move they do to their own level.
For more advanced students that means adding jumps and squats or other fitness elements or more advanced foot work to the basic dances. For newer students if could mean doing the most basic of moves, a step touch instead of a grapevine, a stripped down salsa, until they feel comfortable with the moves and can add their own flair. It could mean adding flair with different arm movements or sass with a flick of a head or a deeper stomp to accent the music.
Every student is free to interpret the music in a way that is real and honest to themselves. It’s not just a suggestion, it’s encouraged.
And that gave me the freedom, at 400 pounds, to go in to that first class and struggle through basic salsa, cumbia, merengue and reggaeton songs and leave feeling successful, happy and wanting more.
It’s a class where someone going the wrong direction isn’t going to be noticed and reprimanded. In fact, one hip hop routine we do in class turned in to something different and even more fun when someone turned the wrong way on a move and faced their neighbor and did the standing crunch/body pump move. It added an element of playful interaction that changed the mood of the whole song.
Now we don’t do it any other way!
Another cool thing? Everyone is welcome in a Zumba class regardless of color, creed, fitness level or gender. It’s easily accessible to everyone because it’s, at the core, a class that circles the world with its style and tries to bring a little something for everyone.
People think it’s a class for just women and that’s just preposterous!
Zumba was created by a wonderful male, Columbian aerobics instructor. Every move has a more masculine or more feminine modification. When we teach moves like the Samba we can show a more feminine, on-the-toes Samba or a more masculine stomp-and-twist Samba. Even belly dance moves have a more masculine version so that men in the classes don’t ever need to feel like they’re being forced to do something that doesn’t feel right to their body. And if we find a move that we can’t modify we are never afraid, in my class anyway, to change it to something more middle of the road.
Zumba is the one place that having a booty that jiggles is a GOOD THING.
Everyone always looks at the women with larger rears with envy when we do body pumps, or booty circles or hip drops or even the smooth sensual slides of belly dance because they look good doing it! It’s not uncommon to hear “Why doesn’t my butt move like that!” It was really scary for me to get up and teach a song for the first time because at 340 pounds I felt like people would look at my giant butt and laugh – they cheered and wanted to learn to make their body move like mine.
And lastly – Zumba is all about embracing personal style and being who you truly are.
It’s really cool to me to watch a student come to their first class in sweat pants and a baggy shirt. As they get more comfortable in their dancing, in the basic moves, and they gain confidence they start to come in wearing tank tops and leggings or shorts and some even progress to wearing all the wild and crazy Zumbawear. They begin cutting their shirts and mixing and matching colors and patterns to stand out even more.
Something wonderful happens when they reach that point.
They become part of the front row crew.
They show off their modifications, they play with other students and they make my job even more fun.
That’s when some even go off and get their license and start teaching their own classes.
For the hour I’m at Zumba I smile, I laugh, I dance and I PARTY. I never feel like people are judging me because they are too busy having a good time and getting their own sweat on. For me, it’s also a return to my youth. I danced until I was 13 and this is the first thing I’ve found that lets me tap in to my “inner dancer” and use that energy as an adult.
I get to put on a sexy song and strut my stuff, throw on an angry reggaeton and be a fighter, dance the tango and be a prideful woman or throw down on in dance battle with my students. I get to act. I get to play and I get to watch my students do the same.
Everyone should have a place in their life like a Zumba class release that allows them to feel comfortable, powerful, and free.
For some it may be found on the road running or cycling, in the pool, in a room surrounded by heavy weights, or at peace on the yoga mat but I challenge everyone to find what Chalene Johnson calls the “soulmate” workout and never let go!
Samantha is a relocated Yankee living in Eastern, NC. She graduated with an English degree from an all women’s college in Raleigh, NC and, naturally, now works as a technical analyst for a bank. Six years in to her journey from 475 pounds to a healthy weight, Samantha prides herself on her mad Zumba skills and her willingness to try new, scary things as often as possible. She then whines when she inevitably gets hurt over at simplifyingsammie.blogspot.com She also blogs about her zany adventures and her struggles with weight, food, anxiety, family and finances.
Thirty days. No processed Food.
chock full o’fruit & veggie goodnessThe day after Halloween I was obsessing about my MOVE & pacing in front of the ON! SALE candy standing in a long grocery line when I spied a tweet.
(I deliberately pick the long lines so as to snag me some mid-day social media time)
@greatist doing no processed food all month. wish me luck! #imagreatist
— Derek Flanzraich (@thederek) November 1, 2012
I really like Derek & Greatist.
He melds the super-smart and the irreverently funny in the way I only aspire to—so I immediately tweeted back words of encouragement.
I used voice dictation however & instead of tweeting YOUVE GOT THIS—my iPhone conspired against me & informed him IVE GOT THIS.
Derek’s response?
@mizfitonline @greatist
joining me?
— Derek Flanzraich (@thederek) November 2, 2012
In that moment I glanced down at my red plastic shopping basket & decided: YES. I. AM.
Methinks this is NOT found in nature…Ive rambled before all about how Im an intuitive eater. A mindful eater.
A woman who grazes all day and snacks all night.
Im SALT not SUGAR and Im finally 100% content the way I am.
Except for right now.
Im stressed. Im leaving my home of 12 years about seven months BEFORE Id thought I was moving.
Ive little time for goodbyes and know it will be a muddle of work-pack-mothering-work-pack-mothering-work-pack-mothering for the next 6 weeks (at which point Ill happily shift to work-UNPACK-mothering-work-UNPACK-mothering).
The last time I had this schedule I was packing up to move to Guatemala and let’s just say I ate intuitively—but I intuitively reached for far more sugar and junk.
The result was I arrived to the Land of Eternal Spring EXHAUSTED and already running on fumes. (not so much a good plan when you’re a new mom, a first time mom, solo and dont speak the language.)
As soon as I spied Derek’s response to me I knew there were no accidents.
I was in.
I knew this was what I needed.
I swapped out my processed crap (Im human, People. I may not be hitting McD’s drive thru but it isnt all KALE and BROCCOLI up in herre). I was ready to go.
AFTER I CLARIFIED ONE THING: could I still consume my beloved ostrich jerky?
I say yep.
I was in. Committed. Yet as a woman whos renown for being SOFT CORE and not doing challenges I invariably had to tweak the proposition.
Im committing to no-processed junk until Im happily residing in the Bay Area (<—-see? I got it. Im a local already!) and unpacked.
Im setting myself up for success (Im so good to me) with the inclusion of my jerky—but otherwise Im striving to be 99% wrapper-free until Im a Northern California resident.
All in the name of voice-dictation error and knowing (deep in my forty three & a half year old needs more planking core) this will provide me the energy I need to make a smooth transition for the Tornado & me.
Whatcha think?
Wanna JOIN ME?
There’s a Moral to This Story Even if it’s a No Brainer. Doh!
I’m not sure if this story is funny or sad. Not sad boohoo but sad as in WHAT THE HECK IS WRONG WITH ME!
OK, so last night I tweeted out…
As you can see, I was convincing myself that working out in the morning was a good idea.
I mean I KNOW it’s a good idea but that doesn’t mean I need a push now and then.
Pretty much every Tuesday and Thursday for the past 9 months or so I wake up at 5:25 AM, run a mile to the gym, take BodyPump, and run the mile home. I started when I was training for the mudder and never got out of the routine. I’ve been going so long, I finally feel like a regular at the gym. The instructor knows me. The receptionist knows me. It’s nice.
Lately, however, I’ve been unmotivated to go. I skipped Thursday because I stayed up too late FOR NO REASON AT ALL. Why do I do that to myself? It’s kind of like the eating late at night thing. I’m on the couch. I know I should go to bed. I’m tired, that’s for sure, but no, I just sit there procrastinating bed time like a child. Regretting it every morning like an addict.
So I sent out that tweet, laid out my workout clothes, set the alarm and went to bed.
This morning I wake up moments before my alarm was set to go off.
Or so I thought.
I hopped out of bed. Shut off the alarm. Got dressed. Brushed my teeth. And headed downstairs. That’s when I heard the baby stir.
Hmmm. He’s never up before 7, that’s odd.
I shrug my shoulders and keep going. The husbands home and he can get the baby if he wakes up while I’m at the gym. This is the only time I have to go, and I’m going!
I let the cat out and notice it’s raining. I tweet this…
DAMN. I really want to run to the gym. Oh, it’s only a drizzle. I’ll be fine.
So I lace up and head out the door.
About 2 minutes in the sky opens up and literally dumps buckets of water on my head as if to tell me I made a horrible, horrible decision. Now I’m going to be soaked during body pump.
Oh, well. I’m usually a hot sweaty mess. This will probably feel good.
I run through a neighboring community and across the walking path to the main road. It’s so busy I can hardly cross.
There must an accident on the highway and everyone’s getting detoured to the secondaries.There’s never this must traffic at 5:50
I think to myself.
I get to the gym and hand my badge to the receptionist. She says, "You’re late this morning."
"Yeah, I was debating running in the rain." I said.
But then I looked at the clock and I was actually a minute or 2 earlier than I am normally for class.
She must know class has already started or something. That’s strange.
I walk towards the studio and notice an empty room.
wow. Where is everyone? There’s usually at least 10 of us.
I go to open the door and there’s the instructor and another woman walking out. They look at me funny. I glance over at the clock…
it’s 6:59!
NOT 5:59.
I’m an HOUR LATE!
I look back over at the instructor and say, laughing, "You aren’t going to believe this. I’m an hour late. I really thought it was 6 o’clock!"
We all laugh.
"At least you ran." She said.
" *sigh* yeah, I’ll get a good 2.5 miles in, but still… I was really looking forward to class!"
We’re all still laughing.
"Well, now you’ll have a fun story to tell everyone today. You can blog it."
HA! That’s exactly what I’ll do.
Lesson Learned: Don’t only look at the minute hands when scheduling the alarm and checking the time. Especially when busy and overwhlemed. That first number holds some very important information!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)