I have abandoned my practice, my routine, my diet, my heart.   I have lost the connection to the part of me that begs to be authentic.  My quest for my truth continues.  I search and explore other aspects of my depths that I lost ten years ago when I dove in to a life surrounded by image obsessed masochistic elitists.   Did I become that as well?  Its raining today.  I have no desire to walk into a gym. No motivation to dive into the idea of creating muscle and burning fat and sweating and losing my breath and listening to juice heads grunt or women complain about their fat asses, cheating husbands and c-sections that made their stomachs look like bowls of jello.  I think it's that on my days away from the asylum I long to be disconnected to anything that remotely feels like this sea of insanity that I swim in.  My question is what is that makes me authentic that after I lead a practice that I can not even go to anymore that people come to me and tell me that I bring them "there" that I touch them in away that inspires them, the words I utter resonate.  They sense my authenticity.  I am lost yet I have direction.  But, I feel as though my path is so crowded with so many bumps and obstacles that I get caught up 10 feet behind where I should be..... My hours are not long enough yet they exhaust and drain me ... my days are incomplete yet so full.   What inspires me to write this?  To be this honest?  I think it is that I don't want to be alone in this....... I don't want to believe that I am doing this for nothing.  If I write this to you, the reader, then I exist.

Then and now

Somebody asked me yesterday if I had to, would I start all over again in this industry?   My answer was no.  I would not want to have to build up a name and a client base...... or prove myself all over again.   To feel absolutely out of place and new.  The industry was different back then....

To be a manager was like being a rock star.  Everyone drove corvettes or Camaros (IROC Z), had sex in the locker rooms after hours, and indulged in a variety of substances... most of the time, during work hours.

Steroid freaks with arms as big as a house were the role models. There was no such thing of being nationally certified, no functional workouts, no such idea like corrective exercise.  It was all about getting big and competing.  Even the women were body builders with big hair and bulging muscles and of course a set of implants.  

Everyone man aspired to have bigger biceps, bigger calves, a huge neck and a fake tan.

Then:                                                                                           Now:

Hi-Low Aerobics Playlist                                           Cycling Playlist                                

Hooters- And we danced                                                  D.J. Tiesto - Traffic

Lime- We're gonna love tonight                                      Flow Rida- Sugar

The Cars- Shake it up                                                        Black Eyed Peas - Boom Boom Pow

Robert Palmer - Bad Case of Loving You                      Lady GaGa-Poker Face

Bonnie Tyler- Holding Out for a Hero                           Pitbull- I know you want me

Kenny Loggins- Footloose                                               Pink- Sober (remix)

Madonna- Burnin' Up                                                       Deborah Cox- Beautiful U R (Remix)

Q-Feel- Dancin' in Heaven                                              Kerri Hilson-  Turnin' Me On 

Mad About You-Belinda Carlisle                                   Pussycat Dolls - When I Grow Up

Goodbye to You- Patty Smyth                                        Green Day - Know Your Enemy

Those were the days... I long for scrunched up socks, Avia or Ryka aerobics sneakers and my purple bike shorts with a printed thong leotard to match....

How much it has changed. Step is a thing of the past.  Lululemon is what everyone wears.  Yoga is the trendy thing with the japa mala beads and tree of life pendants.  The housewives even have lower back tattoos that are yoga inspired  poking out of the hard-tail roll over pants.  

Then                                                                               Now

Big Scrunch Socks                                    No show socks

Avia, Ryka, Reebok                              Nike, Puma, Adidas

Champion Sweatshirt                   Triple Five Soul Zip up Hoodie

Bike Shorts                                 Boot Cut, low rise, roll over pants

Thong leotard                                  Deep V Tank, or Sports Bra

Big Bangs, bleached blonde                Smooth straight locks

Boom Box or disc man                                       Ipod

Dodge Stealth, Corvette                     BMW, Range Rover

What has not changed......

Sex in the locker room

Substance addiction

Trainer/Client affairs

My Current Blogging playlist...

1. Love Story - Nadia Ali

2. Beautiful U R (soul seekerz radio edit) -Deborah Cox

3. All the Above- Maino

4. Sugar- Flo Rida

5. Funny the Way it Is- Dave Matthew's Band

6. Mind Control- Stephen Marley

7. 100 Stories (down tempo mix) - Andrea Burns

What's on your ipod?

3 Questions

What taste lingers?

What residue remains in your heart?

What stains are left on your imagination?

Copy Cat Blog: 10 Honest Things about Me

I am currently suffering from bloggers block with images and words that float through my mind during the times of a day when I cannot write.  Like when I am counting reps for my clients or in a studio in front of 40 people trying to get them to align their bodies properly and to forget about what they can't do well and focus on what they can.  All of the stories come out in camp fire like tales when I am in session with a client who is curious about what it is like to be a trainer.  A trainer who gets to listen to the rantings  of all the overindulgent folks in a wealthy suburb.

So this entry idea came from a blog I am following.

10 honest things about yourself....

1) I am honestly not as patient as I appear when my clients tell me I am so kind when they can't get the simplest movement and I tell them it's ok. it's normal to forget what you did a minute ago.  I am usually thinking "Are you f*&!$ing kiddin' me?  I just did ten reps my self so that you could see it again and this is our third set!!"

2) I often fantasize about a different life in another state or country about 25 times a day... No agenda except for a ritual of watching sunsets into twilight(my favorite time of day) on the beach.

3) I regret never continuing to learn how to speak Italian and Spanish....

4)My two alter egos: 1)D.J. at an outrageous lounge.  2)Race Car Driver

5) The one thing I wish I could change about myself.... Fear, I wish I could eliminate it.

6) A lot of my nightmares consist of work.  Oversleeping and having a packed class waiting for me.  A crazy trainer trying to kill me.  Images of giant spreadsheets. Stuff like that is what haunts me in my hours of rest.

7)I love McDonald's, Taco Bell, and Cookies and eat them more often than a trainer should. 

The secret is: That most of us in the fitness industry either have horrible diets, don't work out, smoke cigarettes, drink excessively or have some other substance addiction.  The truth is, all of us have addictive personalities and are egocentric masochists.    Think about that the next time you reach in your pocket to throw a hundred bucks down for someone to motivate you to live a healthy life.

8)I miss dancing every day and  wish I could be on Dancing with the Stars.  

9)Secretly wish I could be the next trainer on the Biggest Loser.

10)Everyday that I wake up, I am grateful that I have a new day awaiting me.

Do you ever wake up and say is this the life I really want to be living.  Am I indulging enough? Am I enjoying it as much as I possibly can?  Am I seeing all that I can? ...... living all of my seconds mindfully, fully aware and conscious of the moments.   Is this as good as it gets?  The past year of my life has had an echo in the background sounding those words as my theme song.  

Do I want to stay chained to this industry where the reality tv shows make up the monotony of my day.  I know the desperate house wives, and the trainers that can be put on those silly lifetime reality shows. Or whatever ridiculous channel it is that hosts the under qualified dramatic faces that pretend to know fitness.  The trainers with the big mouths to hide the lack of education, because all they know how to do is put a client on piece of equipment and count to ten.  

Then you get to the backstage staff... I say stage because it is a show every day.  That's made up of a management team.  And there you find the real show.  These are the folks who don't want a real job. They don't like offices and paperwork.   The so called corporate job.  They are looking for a career change.  The fitness industry appears glamorous. Pretty faces, seductive advertisements, beautiful hard bodies, the list goes on.  It's enchanting until you find your name on a business card and yourself in front of a computer with a spreadsheet filled with numbers laid out in front of you. 

The realization is that this is something corporate, glamour fades, the body softens, and there is nothing beautiful about it.  David Bowie's anthem Under Pressure, is the song that plays when you walk into the room. It's all you feel.  You long for a frozen alcoholic beverage with an umbrella sticking out of it and a tropical beach to match and for your body to look like it belongs on one of those fitness magazines.

Today I walked through my memories.  In search of a good story for my blog.  

So, here comes the cast of characters:

On your right, you find Tony.  He is the ideal for the house wife who gets no attention from her overpaid hubby.  Not too tall but, ripped up, dark hair, dark eyes, motorcycle, innocent smile hiding the motive.   He's slept with half of the woman in the gym.  One of which gave him a little present. The innocent appearance, big blue eyes, and lamb like smile from Mary hid her secret well.  She has more miles on her than a 57 Chevy and left him with a pretty little STD.

Then there is Sadie, she has 3 kids, white picket fence, dog, 1.5 million dollar home on the water and a husband that loves her.  But love stinks and she's in love with Tony.  Who's in love with Lacy.   Sadie stalks him. Watches him from the elipticals, from the step mill, on the stretch mat. Waits in the parking lot.  Let's every other female in the club know to beware.  He can give her nothing.  Her husband can give her everything.........everything that she does not want.  

Now if you look ahead you will find,  Sheila.  She's an area manager of sorts.    The underfed, blonde, with a tacky wardrobe consisting of purple polyester suits.  She and Tony are one in the same in many ways. Ideal exterior, empty interior, lack of any design in the personality department.    The only difference is that Tony could only keep up with one sexual escapade at a time.  Sheila would have four desserts at once.  She loved to sample.  Some are club members, others are staff.  Never going outside of our environment to shop for a more worldly flavor.

To be continued.....

Pasta with Broccoli, Chicken Sausage and Sun Dried Tomatos

Tasty Pasta Dish in the making..

What you will need:

1) 1 pound of whole wheat pasta (I like Rotini)

2) Extra Virgin Olive Oil

3)Sun Dried Tomates (about 12 chopped)

4)Broccoli Fresh or Frozen

5)Chicken Sausage

(Nature's Promise Sundried Tomato and Basil)

6)Fresh Thyme about 2 sprigs

7)Butter or Butter Substitute

Remove sausage from casing. Cut into 1 inch peices. Brown in pan with about 1.5 tablespoons of E.V.O.O.

In a small sauce pan, add butter (substitute), E.V.O.O.,

garlic, and pinch of kosher salt and saute until soft. Add Chicken broth and fresh Thyme.

Boil Pasta. Be sure to add a pinch of salt to the water for extra flavor. If using fresh broccoli clean and steam. About 20 minutes. Frozen broccoli works just as well. Remove and drain pasta from boiling water and place in a large bowl. Add broccoli and chopped sundried tomatoes. Toss in Chickens Sausage and sauce.

Sprinkle with Peccorino Romano grated Cheese. Enjoy.