Go. Be. Do.

So this happened last night... What started out as a cute moment with my neighbor dog who came over to play turned into a blurry selfie of a dog licking my cheek. You see, I'm not a dog person. I'm not going to be a dog person. Ever. I don't want to be a dog person.  They bark.  They smell.  They slobber. They require attention and food.  The list could go on and does. But, somehow...someway...this dog has worked his way into my heart. I love this dog.  He loves me. Maybe it's because he comes and goes aften a few minutes of play time.  Maybe it's because he doesn't try to take over my side of the bed.  Maybe it's because I have two teen boys and am used to more random smells and the constant disappearance of food occurring. Who knows the reason why, but this dog is special to me. So, last night when attempting a pic with him and I saw what was about to take place, I braced myself and allowed a dog kiss to be planted on my face.  I still jerked a little, as

More and more I am seeing this thought meme-ing its way through social media... "I wish it were as easy to lose weight as it is to gain weight." I beg your pardon... Whoever said it was easy to gain weight?   What part about gaining weight is any easier than losing it? I gained weight consistently over the course of the first 41 years of my life. I do not recall those years as easy ones where my weight was concerned. What is easy about being the heaviest person in your family? Or in your class? What is easy about having to buy clothes that are labeled as "husky"? Or later on in life, have to shop in a special section of the store for "women's sizes" or even in stores that only carry "women's sizes". What is that supposed to even mean...women's sizes??? What is easy about feeling as if you have no self control? What is easy about eating until your pants are too tight before you ever get up from the table? What is easy a

I had a moment over the weekend when I remembered my car from my college days.  Something during Sunday's sermon made me think of it. Wish I could remember what it was that sparked such a memory, but I know I had to chuckle when the thought of that car crossed my mind. That car. Oh, that dear, seafoam green Chevy Impala from some year in the 80's...bless its heart. That car spent as much time not running/getting worked on as it did running.  Maybe more so.  When one thing would get fixed, another went awry. Some things I never even attempted to get fixed due to the cost. Things like the heater running 100% of the time. That included summer, folks. Summers in Indiana are more humid than in Georgia. When I would travel the four hours from Fort Wayne to home, I would buy a bag of ice and put it under my legs to stay cool. I did what I had to do to get by...and, it never left me stranded on the side of the road; usually just in a parking lot somewhere.  There is that.  And,

Gravy and I have a history. It's complicated. If I had a dollar for every time I attempted to make gravy, I'd have...$5. (Yes, I can count on one hand how many times I have attempted homemade gravy.  If you only count how many times I actually put the gravy out for consumption, my return goes down.) Over the weekend, my husband mentioned he was hungry for beef tips and rice. So, when grocery shopping Sunday evening upon arriving home from a business trip, I picked up the necessary items to make him some for lunch one day this week. Today was the day. The previous four attempts at gravy were hard lessons learned.  No flavor.  Lumps.  Too thick.  Epic fail.  You name the disaster and my gravy consisted of it; sometimes combinations of disasters at once. So, I've watched videos.  I've consulted with my sister and witnessed her make gravy in front of me. I've read recipes.  I've made mental notes. This time it was going to be different. Nope. I made the tastiest,

If you’ve achieved any number of years, you will be, or already have been faced with constant transition, challenges, and change. Born out of these challenges is an opportunity for greatness. Everyone wants to leave a mark on the world, and everyone has something of value. We’re all on a quest to find that one thing that we can finally say “Ah, that’s why! That was my purpose for living.” ~Sandy Peckinpah~ Almost 3 years ago, I was tired of living life on the same old roller coaster.  Unhealthy habits, riding through the days one sugar high then crash after another, and having no sustainable energy led me to simply whisper a prayer for help. Help for what, you ask...help to find the answers to being healthy, feeling good, and making the outside match the inside of me.  Help to find what works for me to finally discover what I believed to be a "normal" lifestyle felt like. Through the course of some months' time, and through some unique ways, my prayer became answere

It is a title I now hold.  It is something I worked up courage to take on as a personal endeavor.  It is a way for me to save money on some of my beloved and favorite tools I use daily to achieve fitness and nutrition goals. Many do not understand my journey to this "job"...nor do they understand the "job" description that comes with it. Most likely this is because there isn't one to be found. I write the description for myself. Every Beachbody Coach writes the description for themselves. This is a good thing because every individual who takes on being a coach has personalized goals...whys...for which they work.  You choose your whys.  You choose your methods.  You choose your targets at which to shoot. What being a Beachbody Coach for me is different than most.  Being a coach is a way in which I can promote the tools I have found to help me become most successful at my individual goals where my health is concerned.  The way in which I promote these tools i