After the Glass of Wine...

I'm not sure if it's the wine, or maybe just because everyone else is asleep? I just know I am already feeling much better! Either way, I have a story to tell.

Last week (I'll never forget the day - Wednesday October 20, 2010) was the first time I did NOT want to go to personal training. It was five weeks exactly that I had been working out with Sergeant Shurts.  I was kind of stressed about work stuff, but mostly I was worked up about the scale. I  had not worked out the Friday, Sunday or Tuesday prior to that day. Monday's workout had been tough to get through and Tuesday was my first day off, since I had started exercise, that I did not even care that I didn't workout.  I get on the scale every single morning. (Save your breath, it's what I do, nothing you say will stop me). Because I get on the scale every morning, I am accustomed to seeing one of 3 things: 1 or 1.5 lbs up, same weight, 1.5 or 2 pounds down.  I know swelling, salt intake, what I ate the day before, what I ate 2 days before, the time of month, dehydration, (hold on...I'm about to talk real classy now) and needing to go #1 or #2 can affect my weight.

I usually don't get too worked up about a small gain. What I am NOT accustomed to, is a weight gain Sunday, Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday!!! Holy Cow! I know I had cheated a bit, indulging in homemade white bread and alcoholic drinks over the weekend, but was it enough for a 4 pound gain over the next 4 days?! I was just sickened to the core that one weekend of being a bit less stringent would set me back 2 WEEKS of hard earned weight loss. I was truly beginning to doubt my hard work was paying off!

I was thinking about how much I didn't want to continue with the personal training as I drove to meet with Sergeant Shurts on that Wednesday morning.  The closer I got, the more I thought about turning around... Finally, I decided I owed it to myself to show up.  I didn't want to work out, but I thought maybe there would be SOMETHING she could tell me, something to change my frame of mind.

I walked in and Brenda was just packing up after her PT session with Eva. I looked at them both and then blurted out "Eva, we gotta do something! I didn't want to come today. I don't want to be here. I'm sick of this and I'm tired of working so hard. Please measure me. I know it's a week earlier than you wanted, but I need to see if my measurements have changed.

Eva says "Okay, let's do it." I look at Brenda and ask her to write down the numbers, so Eva can do the measuring. Eva hands her "the book" (this is the holy grail of Julie's weight loss, including past "training session accomplishments" and future training session plans, goals and methods of torture. As well as,  the measurements Eva took the morning of my first PT session 5 weeks prior).

She starts with my waist. She doesn't look at my previous measurements. She tells Brenda the number. Brenda says "That's down 2 inches!" She measures my hips. She tells Brenda the measurement. Brenda said "Are you sure? That can't be right. Do it again" I'm thinking "Oh my gosh it hasn't changed, or worse it's gone up!" Eva says "This is her hips, I had to have measured here." I said "Maybe it was here," moving the measuring tape down a bit, where I thought the measurement might me smaller. Eva said "No, that's too low, this is your hips." She was right, the tape measure went right around my hip bones.  I say "Okay, measure again," She measures the same spot again. She tells Brenda the same number. Brenda says "Holy Shit! You actually lost 8 1/4 inches off your hips!"

I didn't hear her right. I must not have heard her. She says it again. She is lying. I almost gave up. She has to be lying. People tell me I look like I've lost weight, my clothes are fitting different, but this can't be true! I think I said, "No" and "It can't be true" and "Are you sure" and "Your lying to me" and then I was shaking. My hands went to cover my face as the tears began pouring out. I was so shocked and happy and scared to believe it was true.  All I could do was cry and say "Oh my Gosh!" over and over again. I felt like someone had just told me I had won a Billion Dollars. Eva hugged me and Brenda hugged me and I was still so shocked. As Eva continued to measure me I stood crying and shaking. I remember them saying I had lost 4 1/2 inches off my booty but all the rest was a blur.  They wrote down everything and totaled it up for me. All in all I lost OVER 20 inches!!!

I woke up Wednesday morning dreading my Personal Training workout. I got on the scale and felt like I had already failed. I was ready to throw in the towel. I was ready to give up... ready to quit... resigned to a life of fat.  Never finding the "Thin" within myself.  An hour and a half later, I was ready to do anything Eva asked me to do. I was inspired, motivated and determined. Losing Inches and Gaining Momentum!

What a "Life Lesson" I learned last Wednesday morning!

Over and Over again, I have to be reminded:
Do not give up on yourself... Do not give up on your dreams...  Do not lose sight of your goals...

As always, Love the Life you Live!
Seriously!
-Julie Brush

Before the Glass of Wine...

My inner and outer thighs are already sore. Maybe it's actually the front and back of my thighs that hurt so bad? Ugh! It's just the whole dang thigh, from my knees to my hips, it's all aching. Not even three hours after my Tighter Assets strength class, and the pain is setting in. 

The flipping Dog is barking outside. Our windows are open, so I know every other person in the house can hear him barking as well, but no one gets up to get him! Kelsey is farting around (not doing homework, again!) and she thinks I'm the one who is mean because I have become impatient. The dog is barking and my irritation is at a level 9. My legs hurt so bad and I'm sitting here trying to decide if it's better to just get up and get the dog, or get up and tell my family I'm pissed at all of them for not doing it themselves. I decide the 2nd option is best, (it's closer and therefore less painful to gripe at the family). As I walk to the bedroom (my husband hears me coming) so he jumps up saying "I'll go get the dog." Seriously?! UGH! I do not tell my family I'm pissed. Instead I walk back to my office and say nothing. Kelsey is in the kitchen and she's humming. HUMMING incessantly while she does her homework. Why does this make me want to hurl her out the kitchen window? I say "Shush up Kelsey" and she says "well, Sssaaawwrreee" (that's a long drawn out snotty "sorry"). All is quiet for 8 seconds. Then her phone starts up. Ping...silence...ping...silence...ping. "Kelsey, quit texting and finish your homework!" She says "What? It's not my fault, THEY are texting ME." Ping... Ping... Ping... "Shut off your phone!" and again, I'm mean and grouchy. "Fine, I'm a mean ol' grouch. Shut it off!" A big huff of air, and I hear the phone shut down. 10 minutes later, she says she is too tired. She needs to go to sleep. "Is your homework done?" She says it's almost done. 

I want to stab myself in the eyeball with a fork! Why is this so difficult?! Why does normal everyday stuff have to be so freaking difficult? SERIOUSLY!  Just let the dog in the house. Pick up your toys. Shut the cabinet doors. Turn off lights when you leave the room! Stop fighting with your sister! Stop yelling "MOM!" from the other side of the house. Put your dishes in the sink. Why are there saltine crackers on the floor in front of the T.V.? You are laying right next to the cordless phone, why am I running across the house looking for it, (to answer it) and it is ringing RIGHT NEXT TO YOU! Seriously! You can't pick up the freaking phone?! Brush your teeth. Flush the toilet. Wait... a turd and no toilet paper!? I can't take this anymore! For Crying Out Loud... Wipe your rear end, flush the toilet and (I know this is pushing it) wash your hands! 

My kids are 7 and 12. My husband is 41. Is this too much to ask? Are my expectations out of line? Where did I go wrong? Really. Where did I go wrong?

I sat down to write on my blog about weight loss struggles and successes. My legs are killing me (Oh, sorry, had I mentioned that already?) and my family is driving me nuts!  I need Advil, Aspercreme (or Ben-Gay, whatever is in the house) and a large glass of wine. 

I hope this is PMS. If it's not PMS, then I am a cranky, grouchy, mean, irritable, and unhappy person. I'm going to have a glass of wine. I do have really great news to share. So, I will drink one glass of wine and write more in a bit...

Dance... Like No One is Watching - Part 2

The previous posting was about my embarrassing experience of dancing like no one is watching.  I didn't start writing with the expectation of telling that particular story. In fact,  it wasn't until after I started writing, that I'd even remembered the incident. Of course, then I'm giggling to myself and thinking, "Oh, I have to share this one!" So, I scrapped what I had started writing, and you got to read all about my "weeble wobble on acid" dance experience.

I'm sure many of you read these blog postings and think "I can't believe she is writing this stuff!" Some of you have told me in person, emailed me, or posted in the comments section, that you "think my blog is funny" or "it cracks me up" and you "truly enjoy reading it".  These are the people who take me, and my writing, for what it is. It's just me. The good, the bad and the ugly.  For this I am grateful.  You know who you are, and I thank you. 

I know there are also people who are just totally and completely uninterested in reading my blog.  And... this is totally fine, understandable and acceptable. To each his (or her) own. Right? Right! :) One of the reasons I made the "Seriously!? blog attendee" event, was to "weed out" those who are uninterested in receiving my emails. I also made a "private" facebook group, titled "Seriously?! blog post attendees," and only added friends who replied they would like to receive updates when I post new blogs. I honestly do not begrudge those who wish not to receive updates or read my blog.  I have a friend who "opted out" of receiving my blog updates, and when I ran into her this morning, (we were both grabbing a coffee) I gave her a hug (as I haven't seen her in awhile) we chatted, and quickly updated one another on our lives.  As I hopped back in my truck she said "Hey Julie, you're looking good, congrats on that." She isn't interested in my blog, (in fact the first time I emailed it to her, she replied "what the hell is this shit?!" - she is always cracking me up with her honesty) but she is a friend. She is more of a friend to me than the ones who accept my "Blog Event" and read my posts, but do not accept me, or what I am writing.

I am aware that while some people are laughing WITH me, others are laughing AT me.  You are thinking: "She is embarrassing herself" "It's so dramatic" "Who does she think she is?"  "Blogging about nothing" "doesn't she have anything better to do?" You consult with others, "Have you read Julie's Blog? What the hell is she thinking?" You have accepted updates and read my blog because it's an interesting source of gossip. Something to talk about... in the way you talk about a train wreck, or your neighbor who you THINK is having an affair, or the single mom on food stamps.  You stand in judgement of me. You know who you are. And... to you I say only this: 

Although I may seem crazy and foolish to you,  I Love the Life I Live.  I'm not perfect and I don't profess to be perfect. I sin. I ask for forgiveness. I live to learn and grow and express myself. I have this one life God gave me, and I'm trying like heck to get as much out of it as possible. I want to learn and teach and love and be inspired and inspire others. Stand in judgement of me if you will. I am who I am.

My writing is honest, and real. It can be raw, disorganized, clumsy, embarrassing, immature, rude, crude and totally socially unacceptable. I hope it can also be funny, inspiring, motivating and interesting.  My goal? I try to write like no one is reading.  Like a journal. Like no one reads this but me. It's the only way to truly be me...

And now I come full circle to "dancing like no one is watching".  It could be dancing, writing or singing.  Maybe it's Zumba or exercise or lifting weights? You are the most uninhibited, free, die hard, committed, and hard core when you do it like no one is watching. 

Think about it... Your home alone and you feel like you have to fart. Do you run to the bathroom, lock the door and pray no one hears?! NO! You lift your ass cheek... blow the fart... smell it... and think "Damn my ass stinks, what did I eat?!" 

You can go "all out". You can do what you feel. Say what you want. Sing loud and off key. Dance like an idiot. Love like you don't know pain or rejection. Love like you have never been hurt. Zumba your heart out, lift weights and exercise while making those disgusting "I'm taking a crap" kind of faces. If I lived my life worried about others watching me... worried about their opinions of me, I wouldn't have even made it through that first Zumba class. My point? Forget what "they" say. Forget the others, forget their opinion of you... When you want to be the best you can be... Be you.  

Live like you only have ONE life to live. Make it count. Seriously!  Make... It... Count...

Much love to my friends, family and those who read (and enjoy) my blogs! 

I B Me. U B You.

Love you all!

-Julie Brush

Dance... Like No One is Watching

I'll never forget one time when I was dancing like no one was watching... and got caught. Someone WAS watching. Yikes! 

My friend Suzanne and I are 19 or 20 and dancing in some club in West Port. This was back in the day before Power and Light District! I know we were underage, because once we were legal, we did NOT go to that bar anymore. I can't remember the name for sure, I'm thinking maybe it was called "Stanford's"? I know it was a bar with a comedy club upstairs. So, anyway... we were dancing and having a blast. As the night wore on (as I consumed more adult beverages) both my dancing ability and inhibitions lowered significantly. The Problem? My confidence level increased and I THOUGHT my dancing ability had increased! Yep, it was one of those nights. It starts out when you are yelling "I LOVE this song!" or "This is MY song!" to every song the DJ plays. Then, the ugly dude who looks like Screech, but dresses like Slater, (remember, "Saved by the Bell") buys me a drink and I think "Wow, I'm pretty awesome. It must be because I'm sooo cute and flirty and FUN!" Then Suzanne drags me to the bathroom and immediately says "Julie! That dude is UGLY! Did you forget the code names we use for ugly dudes?! Your Bambi and I'm Bimbo! Geez! Now that pubescent zit faced guy is gonna stalk us all night!" I then respond, "What? He had a zit? I thought he was cute." Then I look in the mirror... Hair all matted, sweaty, stuck to my face and neck. Mascara clumps looking like black boogers in my eyes. Eyeliner smeared, looks like I have 2 black eyes. Face all oily and in serious need of oil blotting paper and/or my cover girl powder compact. 

Thank goodness I had my hot pink lipstick in my pocket! I reapply the lipstick, rub my lips together and make "kiss lips" at myself in the mirror. What an improvement! (beer goggles must work when looking at ones self as well?) I say to Suzanne "Okay, like I'm totally not trying to be conceded or brag or anything, and I would never say this to anyone else, but because your my best friend and you totally get me... I feel like I can tell you... I think I TOTALLY look HOT tonight! Then I hear the toilet flush (shit, someone else was in the bathroom with us). This gal walks out of the stall, looks me up and down, laughs... and leaves the bathroom. Reality check? No. I'm too far gone for reality. I look at Suzi and say "Gross. She didn't wash her hands!"

As for the title of my blog post? Yeah, I'm getting there. Just give me time. I think I must take after my Dad. He is the KING of making a short story long, just ask my mom! I love you Dad... I'm just sayin...

So anyway, we head back out towards the dance floor. Screech has bought us another round and Suzanne heads into the next room (in search of an acceptable dance partner I guess, as if screech in his black, size XS tank top and rail thin noodle arms wasn't hot enough to dance with the both of us!) and the DJ plays "I want to F*** you like an animal" by Nine Inch Nails. Of course this (and every other song played that evening) is my "Favorite song ever" so I set down my drink and step on the dance floor. I'm dancing by myself. Screech must still be sober enough to know he can't dance? I don't care at this point... 

I'm dancing. Feeling the beat. The pounding of the music in my ears. The speakers are so loud I can feel the music in my chest, in my lungs. I close my eyes and just concentrate on the music. The feel of it. The sound beating against my eardrums. With my eyes closed, and the music so loud, I am not aware of my surroundings. I'm moving my body to the music. Dancing with the beat. I'm just feeling it and moving with it and...

Then Suzanne grabs my arm. "Julie, you look like a f***ing idiot! What the hell are you doing?" I'm like "Huh? I'm dancing." She says "open your eyeballs, and quit moving like that! You do NOT look cute, OR sexy, dancing that way!" 

3 minutes later Suzanne is driving us home. I say "So, my dancing.... that bad huh?" Suzanne says "Julie, I'm not sure what got into you. I just stopped you because you're my friend... and... well... people were starting to stare." I say "Shit." She says "Yeah, you looked like a Weeble Wobble on an acid trip." 

Looking back on that night makes me laugh. I cannot even imagine what I looked like out on that dance floor. Thankfully we didn't have cell phones with video recorders back then! That thought makes me cringe. Yikes!

But Seriously?... To tell you the truth... There is nothing else like dancing that way. Dancing like no one is watching...

NOTE: Part 2 of this blog will be posted tomorrow. It's after midnight and I'm too tired to type the rest of my thoughts on "Dancing like No One is Watching" (yeah, and you KNOW I'm gonna be tying this into working out, motivation, and weight loss) 

Thanks for reading my blog. Love you all. Seriously!

-Julie Brush

Re Posting: The Music Moved Me...

I have chosen to re post "The Music Moved Me..." as a reminder to myself and others about the power of music. "Ain't it funny how a melody can bring back a memory, take you to another place and time, completely change your state of mind." This is a quote from an old country song. I'm not sure who wrote it, who sang it or the song's title. I only know I have never forgotten that verse because it rings so true in my heart.  Music has recently become very important in my life as a motivation to workout, as well as, a distraction from the pain and muscle burn. Sergeant Shurts says to chase after the burn, but I'm just not there yet. I get what she's saying (the burn is good, means your making progress, working the muscle, building muscle tone, blah, blah, blah) but I just can't get excited about feeling that burning pain. What I like to do, is crank the music louder and drown out that damn burn. Beat it up. Run away from it and distract myself from it with loud upbeat (sometimes even angry) music. So, anyway... I wrote the following post back in January of 2010. I obviously didn't stick to the exercise routine I had started back then, but none the less, I think it's a good and motivating post. I AM sticking to my current exercise routine and music is still playing a huge part in my weight loss success! 
Thanks for reading,
Julie Brush


The music moved me...


So, I just recently started this whole "working out" thing. I have been on the treadmill almost every day for the last seven days. This is truly an amazing accomplishment for me! I don't think I have exercised (purposely) for more than two days in a row. Not in my entire life! The really crazy thing about this? The only reason I have finally been able to do it?

This is how it all went down:
I'm in a bad mood (I know, shocker right?). And It's not just a bad mood, it's like an angry and mad type of bad mood. I happen to be home alone on this particular evening, although I don't remember why. So, I'm pissed off, and not one damn family member is here for me to bitch at! It's not like I can even do anything productive in this state of mind! I am way too irritated to concentrate on important things, such as improving my latest bejeweled score, and way to pissy to be social and write "fun and flowery" quotes or comments on facebook. I decide to pick up the crap my kids have, once again, hauled down from the playroom into the kitchen. I head up to the playroom with an armload of toys when "What to my wondering eyes should appear, but a pile of dog shit and piss everywhere!" I dropped the toys on the couch and ran back downstairs, for fear of losing my supper. Ready to beat my two dogs senseless, (thank God they were outside and therefore could not be murdered in my heat of passion) I grab paper towels, rags, a trash bag and a bucket of bleach water. On my way back to the stairs, I see my ipod lying on the counter. I think to myself, "Hum, might as well listen to music while scrubbing the floor. Anything to make cleaning up dog shit a bit more pleasant." I grab the ipod, and along with all my other supplies, head back up to the playroom.


Finally, I am ready to commence scrubbing the floor with bleach water. I have picked up the poop and pee, and cannot wait to disinfect! (I know, how many time must I mention the dog shit in this blog?! I can't help it! I was freaking traumatized! I cannot stop myself). Anyway, this is when I put on my ipod. It's on shuffle, and the first few songs are okay. Ho hum, cleaning the floor, hate my life, gonna kill the dogs, what is taking Tom so long to get home, yadda, yadda, yadda...


Then I hear " Wake up in the morning feeling like P-Diddy"
I crank up the music...
"Grab my glasses, I'm out the door, I'm gonna hit the city"
take me, take me with you...
"Before I leave, brush my teeth with a bottle of Jack, cause when I leave for the night I ain't coming back."
Oh, I remember those days...


I feel my pace quicken. Scrubbing the floor faster, keeping beat with the music. Then I'm "dancing" with my hands. Making patterns on the floor as I see them in my head. I'm not even scrubbing the floor, not really... I mean, I am, but I'm not paying attention to what I'm doing. It's almost like I'm hypnotized. My sub-conscious is busy with the floors, but I am totally in another world. I'm on a dance floor. I'm young and thin. I'm back in college, the days when I could be as arrogant and care free as Ke$ha.


"Tik Tok on the clock, but the party don't stop."
I remember back in the day...


How I loved to dance! More than once, I was the first one out on the dance floor. If I was partial to the song, there was NO stopping me! I would beg my girlfriends to join me, but even if they resisted, I never cared about looking like a fool, I danced. I enjoyed the music, even when alone on the dance floor. So many friends (and boyfriends) of mine had to be fairly tipsy before they acquired the courage to come join me. Actually, I got hit on, many a time, by guys who started the conversation with "So, I noticed you out on the dance floor earlier"...


Suddenly, I am reminded of the freshman 15. Those infamous fifteen pounds (or more) college freshman girls are known to put on. Moms and Dads like to think it's because their little girls aren't eating the balanced meals they use to be provided at home. We all know, in truth, your precious baby girls are packing on the pounds drinking beer! Ha ha ha ha! So, why is it, I didn't gain the freshman 15?! Seriously?! Hello! I freaking danced my ass off. Literally. I danced and danced all night long! Every calorie of beer was balanced with LOTS of dancing!


Then it dawns on me. I didn't gain this weight because I got married, had kids and got comfortable with the life I live... I gained weight because I quit dancing and never replaced that Physical Activity with anything other than breast feeding for a few months, making meals and "running errands" in the car!


If music can make me forget I'm scrubbing floors...
If music can make me feel young and thin and alive again...
I wonder what would happen if I marched my happy, fat ass down to the treadmill and walked to the beat of the music?


So, I tried it. The result?! 6 of 7 days this week I was on the treadmill, and I'm loving life and feeling alive!


Never, ever under estimate the power of music to move your Fat Ass! :-)

Starvation Diet = Icky

Just to let you know, I HAVE actually been on a diet before. It was the "take diet pills and starve yourself " type of diet. You know, there is weight watchers, no carb, low carb, low fat, special K, Nutrisystem, diet center and my all time favorite, the grapefruit diet. None of them worked for me. Sometimes I'd add in a little exercise (everyday for ummm....2 days in a row, or something like that). The only thing that ever worked for me in the past was the diet pills and starve myself diet. I thought it was great! I mean to tell you, I saw quick results. I dropped about 20 pounds in 8 weeks. I remember laying in bed at night and thinking " Wow, I did really great today! The only things I ingested today were cigarettes, Diet Coke and Extra sugar free chewing gum. I'm so awesome!" Yeah. Are you thinking what I am thinking? I'm thinking 2 things. First of all, What a dumb ass I was. Second, hind site is 20/20 baby!

What I did not take into consideration 10 years ago, when I did this to myself, was:

#1) I can't take diet pills forever.

#2) The wedding dress I was losing weight for was NOT more important to me than the man I was marrying OR the wonderful family who raised me OR the wonderful family I was marrying into. Seriously! I am not even exaggerating when I say BRIDEZILLA! Oh my gosh I have to say it again...SERIOUSLY?! Have you ever tried to plan a wedding (or like, you know, be nice) when you haven't eaten for days at a time? Not eating is like PMS on crack! I am so lucky Tom even went through with marrying my crazy ass! And my mother? Well, she must be a saint to have put up with me. And, now that I think about it, my Dad was probably crying tears of JOY as he walked me down the aisle, thrilled to get me married off to some other man who would put up with me.

#3) Metabolism. What's that? You mean I have to eat and exercise to keep that metabolism thing working? Shit. I must have skipped class the day they taught that in Basic Nutrition 101 at K-State. Oops! Well crap. Bring on the poundage....

One of the most shocking things for me to accept is the amount of weight I have put on since my wedding in 2001. What a reality check this is for me. As I think about the weight gain, as I sit here at my desk and type this on my blog...it's as if I am slapped across the face. For a moment I am somber. The humor and the wise cracks leave me here alone with my thoughts and my keyboard. I feel like for me to be successful, I must be honest. Ugly and embarrassing, unable to cover it up with humor... The God's Honest truth is: I absolutely fucking hate the body I have been living in. I have let myself gain ONE HUNDRED and EIGHT POUNDS since the day I got married to the love of my life. That, my friend, is fucking disgusting!

Okay. Back to the fun stuff. Yikes! I feel like I need "Cootie Spray" now, to get rid of the yucky, sobering, reality thoughts. Yuck. That was tough. I hate being serious like that. Whew. Thankfully that is over with!

From my heaviest ever (documented) weight, I was down 20.4 pounds by the time I met Eva. Keep in mind... There was a lot of up and down fluctuating between my heaviest weight and the weight I was on September 13th 2010. I'll never forget September 13th. It was my first personal training session with Eva, and I had weighed myself that morning. She asked me to take my measurements, so I could see my progress. I told her my weight and asked if she could just take my measurements for me. I knew I could cheat if I did it myself.

She has not done my measurements again yet, although I'm thinking she'll do it soon. Next Wednesday is the 13th. One month baby! :-)

I weighed myself again this morning. I've dropped 5.6 pounds since September 13th. And, this time it was done the right way. Eating healthy foods (not on a diet, more like a lifestyle change) and lots of exercise. That is almost 1/4 of a pound a day. Almost a pound and a half a week.

It's not coming off as fast as it did on the starvation diet, but this time around I feel happy and healthy. Most importantly, I know it will stay off (and I'm doing it without the whole PMS on crack attitude, so I'm thinking it's much better on my family and my marriage).

Much love and lots of kisses to those of you who understand where I've been.

Also, to those who appreciate my candid, ugly and embarrassing honesty.

And most of all, to those of you who love me, and who support my blogs, and my journey to lose weight and get fit (the healthy way). I love you all and could never do this without you.

XOXO,

Julie Brush

Quotes

So, tonight in Zumba Class, we are doing these reverse sit up/crunch type things (yeah, I have no idea what they are really called, I just do what Eva and Allison are doing) and I feel the burn in my stomach muscles. Totally normal, right? So then, I start feeling this pain right under my ribs. It's like right under my bottom ribs, and I have never felt pain right there before. So, I say out loud (stupid me) "It's hurting so bad under my ribs! Oh my gosh is that OK? Is it supposed to hurt under my ribcage like that?!" Allison hears me say this, (because I am in the front row right behind her) and she says "Um, yea Julie... those are your abs." I just started laughing and looked at the gal behind me and said "Well, shit... I didn't even know I had muscles there."

Seriously! When people say "What a workout, I'm sore in places I didn't even know I had." That is not a joke! I always thought that was drama, exaggeration, joking around... No it is seriously freaking true! It's just so funny to me that I really was worried. Like I was thinking "Oh, I better say something, I might be doing something wrong because this is hurting under my ribs!"

Another time, I was in Zumba (right behind Allison again) and my feet were going numb! I'm jumping and dancing and just "Zumba-ing" my heart out when I notice the numbness and tingling in both feet. I slow down my pace, and it is not going away! I'm thinking..."Okay, calm down...I don't remember numb feet being a sign of a heart attack or a stroke..." My mind is racing and I catch Allison's eye. I say to her, "Something is wrong with my feet. They are going numb!" As I say this I start taking my shoes off, (so I can look at my feet) and Allison says "Your shoes are probably tied too tight." Ha Ha Ha! What a ding dong I am! Duh, they were brand new shoes and just tied too tight. The second I got them off, my feet felt totally normal again! Who does that!? I totally freaked out over nothing... More than once!

One thing I have recently learned for sure : Working out, working hard, working on changing your body... It's not for wimps! I'm not saying this because I feel like I'm "all that and a bag of chips." I'm saying this because I want everyone who reads this to know how even a big baby wimp like me can start LEARNING to become strong. If you have ever thought of trying to incorporate exercise into your lifestyle, but been afraid... I want you to know, I too was (still am) afraid! Every time Eva - a.k.a. Sergeant Shurts - asks (makes) me do something new, or makes me do "8 more reps, Julie" I am afraid of the pain, afraid I can't do it. I mean, SERIOUSLY?! At 35, I have just recently learned my abs go all the way up to my freaking ribcage! I am more clueless than ANYONE I go to those Zumba or Strength Classes with. But...who cares? I do what I can, and I learn as I go. (and I think, and say, and do, and hear a few funny/crazy things along the way).

Some things said that I don't want to forget:

Me: Oh Shit, (groaning) it hurts, I can't, (more groaning)

Julie Gates: You had a kid, if you've given birth, you can do 8 more leg lifts!

Me: (Gagging)

Brenda: (Laughing)

Sergeant Shurts: You better not puke! You'll be the one who has to clean it up!

Me: Every time she makes us do this...I'm afraid I'm gonna toot.

Sergeant Shurts: What did she say?

The Whole Class: She's afraid she is gonna TOOT!

Sergeant Shurts: Frog Legs...Put your feet together and lay on the ball like this...Squeeze, Release, Squeeze, Release....

Me: (I'm only thinking this, not saying it) "I can't believe I'm doing this in public. I totally feel like I am humping this exercise ball...Man my ass hurts! No wonder Tom has such a great butt."

Sergeant Shurts: When you do this exercise, if you feel it start to burn...

Me: Then what? I feel it burn, what do I do?!

Sergeant Shurts: (laughing) You live right through it!

To Eva (Sergeant Shurts), Allison, and all the gals who attend Beloit, Smith Center or Osborne Zumba classes with me... Thanks for the laughs! It's been great fun dancing (a.k.a. throwing this big butt around) and sweating like a fat baby in your presence! See ya'll next week!

Lots of Love to you all!

-Julie Brush

SERIOUSLY?!

I just now stumbled upon this video, and I had to post it! I love it! Seriously! - Julie Brush

Lohgan is away at Pittsburg State University

Lohgan,

I am remembering the day I met you. I can relive in my mind that warm summer evening, as I sat on the couch and you sat in the big leather chair. You were so small in that big chair, telling me about starting the third grade, American Girl Dolls, Beanie Babies and your friends Rachel and Jodi. You took me by the hand and led me down the hall to show me your bedroom and your Beanie Baby collection. You were so confident and carefree. A sweet and innocent little girl full of life and love.

You were (and still are) SUCH a Daddy's Girl. I fell so in love with you and your Dad, watching the two of you together. I was in the kitchen one evening, cooking supper (mostly trying to impress your Dad) when I looked out the window and noticed you trying, unsuccessfully, to get a basketball through the net. Tom must have noticed this as well, because he stopped mowing the lawn and went over to you. He stood under the basketball goal, and after watching you try several more times make a basket, he finally just picked you up and held you up in the air, close to the goal. You easily tossed the ball through the net and grinned from ear to ear. After a chuckle and a high five, he went back to mowing the lawn.

I am smiling, but tears stream down my face as I remember these things. I smile because you have brought so much joy and happiness to my life. I cry because I miss your beautiful face and your presence in my home.

I am so proud of the young woman you have become. I look forward to hearing about all your adventures and success (and yes, even your mishaps or failures) at Pittsburg State University. Congrats to you for choosing to pursue a college degree! Although I often wish you were back here in Downs with us, I know you are where you need to be, working to accomplish the goals you have set for yourself and your future. I can't seem to tell you enough, I'm proud of you!

I miss you Lohgan, and I love you so very much.

-Julie