Why You Should Work Shoulders While At The Gym

"We all have a destiny in accordance to the breadth of our shoulders. My shoulders are broad."

                                                                      -Placido Domingo-

This quote embodies my life lately. It's as if my destiny decided the past two weeks were perfect for testing just how much I can take, like "hmm... this girl has had it good for a while. Let's throw everything we have at her and see what she does."

We have all been there - the curled up in bed, perpetually crying and hurting all over days. Or the angry for no reason at all except for you simply exist days. Or the days where those closest to you feel like strangers and no matter how hard you try to fake that smile you feel like the very center of your being is rebeling against you, screaming "STOP FAKING, BITCH, EVERYONE KNOWS YOU'RE MISERABLE!" It becomes not only a heavy burden on your shoulders but a wet, woolen coat that wraps itself around you like a straight jacket you can't shake. It strangles you and seeps into you until it becomes you, and there is nothing anyone can do about it. No matter how many people try and help you shrug it off, it's your new permanent accessory.

We have also all made it through these times. We have come out on the other side, into the sunshine where that wet coat slowly dries out. It becomes a little easier to move, every day it's feeling lighter. Then it gets too warm inside the coat, and you're sweating from the thick wool and you're itchy and irritated and you realize this coat is interfering with your tanlines. With your sunny day. Your happiness. Your life!

So you do it. You shuck that coat like a dead corn husk and leave it behind. Forgotten. Left in a dirty, grey pile somewhere far away while you enjoy your sunny, wonderful life. You hardly remember what made you put the coat on in the first place, and even if you do, it's more like you're wearing an itchy sweater or a too-tight scarf for a fleeting moment before you're back enjoying your own sunny, warm, wonderful life.

I'm not going to go into detail about my own coat. I am also not looking for pity or condolances, but instead hoping that my words will help someone shed their own heavy coat they've been wearing for a while. Or start to dry it out. Or at least let them know they won't be wearing it forever, just like I know my situation is only temporary. Sometimes you just need to hear it from someone outside your situation or see it written down in front of your face to realize there is an end and you will be okay. YOU WILL BE OKAY. WE WILL ALL BE OKAY.

So go ahead, destiny - keep it coming. My shoulders are not only wide, but they are strong, and will handle whatever you've got.

Food Is Where The Family Is

I have decided that Friday will be my official weigh-in day.

The reason for this is two-fold. First, I am working towards becoming less scale-obsessed and more focused on how I feel at the end of the day. Secondly, I chose Friday because I can usually stay on track all week and give a little bit on the weekends. Last weekend, as you may recall, I indulged a little much and ended up gaining back some pounds. Post-morning potty break on Friday, I stepped onto the scale again to see what a week of hard work and diligence had gotten me, and was pleased to see 241 under my feet once again. Back to my post-detox weight! I won't lie, I did a little jig in front of the mirror. It was nice to know I had hit my baseline once again, especially since the Mister and I were heading out on a weekend getaway after work.

Friday afternoon I finished up with my last client, we packed the Pathfinder and journeyed to Mountainland (read: New Hampshire) for a weekend with my family. We try to make it home once a month or so but it's been since Christmas so we were well overdue for a backwoods country mini-vacation with shoddy cell service and relaxation a-plenty. And food. LOTS of food.

My mother is a saint who raised not only her own two wild women, but my twin step-brothers as well, who will be graduating from high school this June. As we have established, I love food. I always have, and mealtime was where I really packed it away. My sister has always been more of a "grazer" so she never really ate much at mealtimes, but man - could she destroy some snacks! Whole boxes of Cheez-its and bags of chips would enter her childhood bedroom and never return on a daily basis. After we had grown up and moved out, my mother most likely breathed a sigh of relief  - two less bottomless pits to feed. Unfortunately, she hadn't experienced a growing teenage boy before, nevermind two at the same time, and when puberty hit my brothers it hit hard, fast, and hungry.

It was all my poor mother could do to keep food on the table. Loaves of bread, sleeves of cheese, chips, cookies, crackers, Little Debbie Snacks (a staple in my household) all demolished within days of coming home from the grocery store. Not to mention that my 250+ pound, 6'2" stepfather was also putting a dent in the weekly grocery haul. It still amazes me to this day that she could not only buy enough for everyone, but more than enough, and all for under 200 dollars a week.

Our typical dinner table growing up included a protein (usually whatever was on sale) one or two bags of steamed veggies, a rice or noodle side, two pans of quick bread (banana, pumpkin, etc.) or cinnamon rolls (my brothers have an unhealthy obsession with the orange glazed ones) and some kind of homemade dessert and/or ice cream. There was always enough for an army, rarely any left over, and if you didn't eat within 10 minutes of sitting down you missed out on seconds.

Based on this, is it any wonder that when I began cooking for myself, a whole box of pasta seemed logical to cook off when making spaghetti? Or that I would purchase 10lbs of chicken at one go and expect to cook it all at once? Clearly, there was a learning curve, one that I  think I took going 99mph and crash landing down a rocky ravine that ended in wasted food, time and money. Unfortunately, realizing that bread, cheese, and carbs should not be the main staples of my diet is a learning curve I've taken at a snails pace with a flat tire and the gas light on.

At first glance, my mother and sister both commented on my smaller frame and healthy glow immediately. My mother asked me about my eating habits, what I'd changed, what I "could" and "couldn't" eat ( "whatever I damn well please but I have been making healthier choices, Mom!") I brought along my "smoothie box" full of chia seeds, flax, raw cacao powder, and various other ingredients to give my mother a smoothie lesson, which my grandmother also go in on when she stopped in to visit. I made healthy choices most of the time when we went out for lunch or dinner, and when I chose to order onions rings instead of salad, I wasn't gripped with deep-seeded guilt and disappointment, especially because the rest of my meal was pretty on point.

On Sunday night, before we trekked back to the Green Mountain State, my mother was in the kitchen making a huge meal for all of us, as she usually does when all of her kids are home. A steaming hot Shepard's pie and a huge loaf of crusty garlic bread sat on the stove when she was finished. I grabbed a family sized bag of broccoli from the freezer and steamed it up, and we all sat down as a family and enjoyed the food and the company of each other in hungry silence.

The food is always my favorite part of going home. Nothing brings people together like food, and there is nothing like a home-cooked meal at the hands of my mother. The difference was this time, I had normal, human-sized portions of Shepard's pie, a whole lot of broccoli and one slice of garlic bread. I ate until I was full, not stuffed. I drank a lot of water and ate slowly. I didn't deprive myself of sharing in the moment with those I love, but I did not allow myself to gorge and then fall into the self-loathing vortex a half hour later. Definitely a small victory for me, but an even bigger victory lay in the way that my family took a general interest in my new lifestyle and were able to see results, both in my body and in my overall demeanor.

The biggest victory of all for the weekend was that the Mister and I picked a wedding venue and a date! It's absolutely perfect, as you can see here , and we could not be more thrilled to finally begin the meat and potatoes of wedding planning and start watching it all come together. I am, of course, the most excited to start looking for "the dress." The best part? I know when I find it, I will be slipping into it with a lot less effort and a whole new world of confidence.

(PSST!!! Want to start your own journey to a healthy, happy you? Email LisaRenee at yourfountainofhealth@yahoo.com to recieve a FREE E-BOOK complete with 9 LIFE CHANGING SMOOTHIE RECIPES! It's free, it's fabulous, it's delicious... and did I mention it's free?)

Living In The Grey

For about a year, I have been seeing a therapist.

This isn't something most people openly admit. Being in the mental health business, I am more than aware of the stigma surrounding something as important as personal mental health. More than one of the kiddos I work with refuse to call me their anything other than their "friend" when we're in the community because it's embarrassing to have a "counselor" or a "social worker" in their presence.

I sat in my therapist's sunny corner office this week sipping my Chocolate Covered Kale smoothie (from Your Fountain of Health - email yourfountainofhealth@yahoo.com to get 9 LIFE CHANGING SMOOTHIES from LisaRenee!) and discussed my weekend with her. I shared that I was feeling disappointed in myself for my weekend binge. I told her about my friends coming to visit and how we had an excellent time, but that my body was still catching up from "being bad."

This is where she stopped me mid-sentence and told me very seriously that it "rubbed her the wrong way" when the words good and bad were utilized in regards to food. She asked me why I thought this was the default language most people use when speaking about their diet choices, and I couldn't really give her an answer.

Why does it have to be so black and white? Positive or negative? Have you ever really thought about it? I know for me, as I've previously stated, that my weight and size have always been a personal struggle. When I am in a "good" place, eating clean and exercising regularly, I am confident and happy. I am also rigid, strict, and feel like an immediate failure whenever I even taste something that may not be on my plan (side note, I don't like the word "diet"... makes me think of fad diets that don't work. Trust me, I've tried them all.)

We discussed alternate ways to look at language surrounding food; "choices" vs. "bad" or "good"... "treat" vs. "cheat"... taking the black and white and making it grey. No longer looking at food as just a positive or negative experience, but a neutral source of nourishment. After processing, I came to realize that out of the nearly 72 hours I spent with my friends, MAYBE 12 of them were spent making less than healthy choices. Even then, I had a huge salad with my pulled pork sandwich from the Mister's BBQ feast and made sure I drank water throughout the night between hard apple ciders. When it was put into perspective for me, I felt a lot less "bad" about myself and my choices. In fact, I was pretty damn proud of myself! It could have been way worse, or started a slippery slope to continuing to make unhealthy choices. I could be stuffing my face with pizza topped with an entire sleeve of Oreo's.

But I'm not.

We also discussed ways to make treats less guilty and more enjoyable. Planning your treats in advance so you know when you'll indulge takes the stress out of the equation because you know when it's coming and, most of the time, what it is you'll be having. Making your treats healthy versions of the real thing (like these AMAZING chocolate chip oat cookies from Simply Whole Foods found on this blog that are Chef Hoyt approved!) helps ease the blow, although you still can't have twenty in a sitting. Lastly, if you do deviate from your plan and have a cupcake or a cup of coffee - give yourself a break! We are humans, we are spontaneous creatures by nature. I struggle the most with this one, but I also know that one spontaneous treat once in a while will not kill me or completely derail my progress.

Now I want to turn the tables and ask you: how do you look at food? Do you have the "good" vs. "bad", black and white mentality? Do you exist somewhere in the grey? Are you on a diet or a healthy lifestyle plan? Most importantly, will you help me in changing the language around the food we eat and the mentality around the choices we make?

Let's make it okay to live in the grey.

In The Clear and Off The Wagon

Tuesday was the final day of the Your Fountain of Health detox program.

I stepped on the scales that morning... 241lbs.

Since I started writing this blog, I've lost 7 lbs. Since I started the detox, I've lost 11lbs. Not only that, but I went from 43 inches around both hips and waist to 41 inches around for my hips and 39 inches around for my waist. A total of 6 INCHES.

To celebrate, the Mister and I went out to dinner. We went to Applebees, where he got the chicken fajita roll up with a big ol' crispy side of fries. I ordered a grilled chicken breast with creamy parmesean sauce served over a bed of brown rice and sauteed spinach. I won't lie, I am a sucker for french fries and anything that vaguely resembles a burrito, so when Danny's dinner came out I was a little jealous. However, due to my healthy choice, I allowed myself to polish off the rest of my chocolate Almond Dream ice cream when we got back home.

I went to bed that night feeling accomplished. I woke up the next three mornings, drank my elixir, mixed my smoothies, stayed on track. I continued to feel good about myself, my progress, my health.

Until this weekend.

Friday morning I woke up, slugged my elixir, made myself a Cranberry Bliss smoothie and went off to work with my packed lunch and healthy snacks. About halfway through the day, one of my best friends from college, Bernice (yes, that's her real name) and her girlfriend arrived in Burlington for a previously planned weekend stay at our place. When I returned home from work, I made myself some delicious, healthy dinner, sat down with my lemon water and my Mister and waited for Bee and her lady, Ashley (and their ADORABLE boxer, Dexter) to make their entrance. Which they did a few hours later... with wine and beer.

I restrained myself to only one glass of Merlot, since it is my favorite, and continued with my standard lemon water throughout the evening. The next morning was elixir, Green Smoothie Madness, and then brunch with the girls while the Mister toiled away at work. I got a decaf cup of coffee - black - and a special chedder and feta hash with red potatoes, peppers, onions and kale. It was delicious, perfectly portioned, and I had a hard time finishing it.

Shortly afterwards, it went downhill.

If you didn't know, Vermont is kind of a micro-brew mecca. Switchback, Longtrail, Otter Creek, just to name a few. The one that most everyone has at least heard of is Magic Hat, located in beautiful South Burlington. If you're 21 and in Northern Vermont for any amount of time, it is almost a rite of passage to attend a tour and fill up a growler with one of their hundreds of rotating beers on tap. (More information can be found here , for those of you who are interested - and 21!)

Being the amazing man that he is, the Mister hooked us all up with a VIP tour, courtesy of his beer guy at work. We got to go behind the scenes and see where the "Magic" (pun intended) is created, as well as the GAZILLION boxes of beer that are in storage. It. Was. Amazing. And, of course, ended with a tasting.

Long story short, we went from Magic Hat, where we had four one-ounce taster beers each, to Big Fatty's BBQ, where the Mister prepared a GIGANTIC southern feast complete with pulled pork, brisket, smoked chicken and macaroni and cheese. Then, downtown, where much alcohol was had by all, finished off with a big, greasy slice of cheese pizza at my old college haunt, Mr. Mikes.

Did I enjoy myself? You bet I did. Was I seriously hurting the next morning? Absolutely. Am I still feeling the effects of my little binge? Yes, yes I am. To the point where I had to pull into a Dunkin Donuts while on the road between home visits today for an emergency restroom break. Do I regret it?

Not a chance.

The one thing I have learned in my short 24 years on this earth is exactly that; it's short. My days are so filled with mundane tasks, stress, bills, rules, regulations, headaches, do's and dont's - times are few and far between where I am allowed to let loose and get wild, especially with those I really love and care about. That doesn't mean I will gorge myself at every given opportunity, but I will make sure not to completely deprive myself either. It's a balance I will constantly fight, more than likely for the rest of my life. And honestly, I'm okay with it.

So this morning, I got right back on the clean eating wagon. Elixir, smoothie for breakfast, salad with chicken and sweet potato for lunch, healthy snacks, and THIS 

A Chef Hoyt original: butterflied chicken, sauteed veggies, brown rice pilaf. All completely clean. To quote the classically French trained Mister himself "and you told me I couldn't cook without butter and cream!"

Well, baby, you are more than welcome to keep proving me wrong.