Journey to Barre3: Or, (part of) the reason I'm such a fan.

     *disclaimer* this is a looong post about why I'm so crazy about barre3...it's worth the read. And there's a link to a freebie at the end! but it IS long!!

    A beautiful, early-spring day in the Tuileries Garden of Paris doesn't seem like a place one would run into barre3- at least, not at first glance. But that's where it started, none the less. That day, I laced up my running shoes and headed out across Rue di Rivoli with my husband and three littles to the park, which was our afternoon ritual. Everyone else in Paris-local or otherwise- had the same idea. It was one of the first really warm, sunshiny afternoons in Paris that spring; so the park was filled with people walking, sitting, watching, sipping, talking. A crew was setting up for some sort of fancy dinner/fashion show thing on one side of the park; on the other, the playground was filled with children enjoying the late afternoon sunshine. There was a line for the in-ground trampolines (my kids' favorite attraction) and humming conversations filled in the air, along with some accordion music from the little cafe. We strolled to the playground and I told my husband I'd be back in a bit; then I walked to the perimeter of the park and began to jog. I'd decided it was time to shed the last 15 pounds of baby weight I still carried after the birth of our third child, newly one and weaned while we were in Paris. The Gardens would provide the perfect motivation to start running again. At least, so I thought.
     It sounded so incredibly romantic to me-running through the Tuileries. And it was, for the first 200 yards. Then it very quickly turned into one of the most embarrassing moments of my life as my three-pregnancies-in-4-years bladder gave way...and not just a little leak, either. I was prepared for that. But oh, no... by the time I was halfway across the park, I had fully peed my pants. I could practically hear the Parisians around me sipping their espressos and sneering at the obviously-American girl who was peeing her pants in the Tuileries Garden. This? This was not romantic AT ALL.  I quickly stopped running, my face burning. Walked a bit. Then squeezed things a bit and attempted to jog-hobble back to the playground as quickly as possible...which wasn't very quickly. I grabbed an errant sweater and wrapped it around my waist, feeling all the time a mix of embarrassment and a sense of betrayal from my own body. That was it, I decided. No more running for me. Ever, Ever again. I'd have to find something else. Or just resign myself to being un-fit forever.
       Of course I had known things wouldn't be quite the same after having three babies in relatively quick succession. I'd make it to 18 months postpartum and-poof!-pregnant again! But I'd never thought my body would feel so old after having babies. By the time my third was born, my joints felt so out-of-wack and fragile that even the thought of jumping or running to chase my littles made me wince. I felt as if I'd fall apart at the slightest jolt, which was not the kind of mother I wanted to be. I've always enjoyed being active, and I love playing with my kids. I wasn't unhealthy in other ways, necessarily; we ate fairly well, mostly whole foods, homemade bread, very little processed food  and if I was a little too addicted to my morning coffee-well, that was only because of the lack of sleep (I thought). I just felt like I couldn't keep up. And at 29 years old, I didn't like it. I wanted to be able to do what I wanted to physically without pain, or a migraine. But now-Well, that afternoon I felt more than a little hopeless, since it was quite clear there was no possibility of falling back on my old standby of running, or even cross-fit. Dance classes aren't exactly convenient with three littles in tow; and even swimming ended up giving me a migraine because everything was misaligned. My back and core were not strong enough to hold my spine in the right position. Nursing, carrying babies and toddlers and giant diapers bags-and everything else that comes along with littles-it all exacerbated the problem.

Enter barre.

    It was a day or two later that I got a Groupon offer in my inbox for a 5-pack to a barre studio near me. I talked to Adam about it, instinctively knowing I'd love the combo of barre work and pilates because of my dancing days. And he wholly supported me trying it out-he knew my love of dance, my frustration with my current physical health, and the importance of being able to move and be healthy. I bought a 5-pack. And had my mom and husband each gift me one, too. After our trip was cut short and we ended up back in the Valley, I was more ready than ever to try out the workout. I needed the physical stress-relief the exercise would bring, as well as the mental clarity. Adam was starting P.A. school on top of everything else, and I looked forward to my first Saturday class with anticipation-and a touch of anxiousness.
      It turned out that  I needn't have worried. After the first class, I was hooked--and my only concern was that I had just enough classes to get though the summer, one a week, since there was no way I could afford the studio's regular prices on a grad-student-with-a-family budget. What would I do when they ran out? I committed to just enjoying the time I had and not worrying about it. Maybe my body would be ready to try running again at that point, I thought. I looked forward to Saturdays and each week's class refreshed me and left me feeling stronger and more flexible; every week I could feel my body begin-just a teeny bit-to recover its old fitness. But I did dread-just a bit- the end of summer and the end, so I thought, of my barre-days.
and then.
In August, just as I was coming to the end of my 15 classes, I began to see posts on Facebook from a friend of mine about something called Barre3. She, it seemed, had a friend who was opening a studio in California and she'd gone for the opening. The photos intrigued me as I'd fallen in love with barre at this point, and this studio looked so different from the one I was going to. It looked warm and light and they all looked like they were having so much (sweaty) fun! One day, she posted about Barre3 online, mentioning online workouts-and I knew I'd found my answer. Here was a way to keep practicing barre, a way to maybe-just maybe-continue to regain some fitness. So I signed up. $15 a month was something we could afford. And I LOVED the variety of workouts and time lengths because it seemed so doable for a busy mom. At this point, I just wanted to be able to play with and chase my kids without pain; maybe lose some weight. I didn't have a lot more goals than that.

     I've never looked back. Each month, each week I began to feel small, significant changes in my body. I didn't step on the scale too often, because I was more concerned with how my body felt, but I could feel my clothes getting looser. I loved Barre3 even more than the studio I'd been going to because the blend of Yoga, ballet, and pilates resonated with my body. The low-impact cardio was a nice addition for someone who has grown up involved with athletics; getting my heartrate up and pushing myself deeper was a challenge I loved taking. I didn't even have a core ball at this point; I used a pillow when needed and was still impressed with the differences in my core strength. My hip pain left, too. I'd squeeze in 30 or 40 or 10 minutes early in the morning or at rest time, after homeschooling my oldest. Often, my two youngest would come in in the mornings and the little one would crawl all over me as I finished my core work (not and easy task...). My 4 year old daughter would imitate the more ballet-esq moves, being crazy-enamored with dance herself.  So when that same friend told me she was going to open up the first Barre3 studio in the Phoenix area, I could not have been more excited! I'm sure I was slightly obnoxious to poor Karie; each week when I saw her I'd ask her about how everything was progressing, eager for news of the opening.  And when she opened up her home for "Barre3 underground" as she worked toward her certification, she was kind enough to include me on the friends and family list. This-this was wonderful!! So very exciting, my first "real" studio class! It was fun. And HARD. And--holy moly--what that core ball did for my core work was nuts. I couldn't WAIT to come back again.
      I went as often as I could to Karie's house for classes beginning in March; usually once or maybe twice a week, if I could get a spot in her very popular underground. I took my kiddos with me every time, and every time we all were warmly welcomed. Soon, my now-two-year-old would ask if we were going to "Kawie's house" for "ba-fwee" every time we got in the car. The kids enjoyed playing as much as I enjoyed exercising, and the hour-long studio classes skyrocketed my results. Getting to workout with friends just fed this extrovert's motivation; and my energy was higher than it had been in a long time. I'd lost pounds and even more inches. I could now jump on the trampoline (for a short time) with my kids, or race my son across the driveway and back. One beautiful Saturday afternoon at the park, we had a rollicking game of family tag all over the play equipment, up and down and around. I ran and chased and jumped and laughed along with my husband and the bigs; and I'll never forget how my husband laughed with joy to see me able and wanting to play like that again. I was starting to feel "normal" again.
      In May, I jumped at the chance to join the Barre3 Spring Challenge, and it was enormously beneficial to me. I'd already slowly been re-vamping the way our whole family ate, due to stomach issues I'd been having since my youngest was born as well as for the betterment of all my family. Now I committed to a month of whole foods only-no coffee, no sugar, no refined grains. The company's core value of balance in life has been a catchword for my husband and I in this whole P.A. school journey; and I loved the care encouraged to all aspects to my life, not just to my fitness or nutrition. I also got my very own bright-orange core ball, which came along with the challenge and allowed me to increase my at-home practice. And streaming the online seminars each week with founder Sadie Lincoln and functional nutritionist Andrea Nakayama was educational and encouraging.
    By the end of that month, I was completely off my morning cup of coffee (except occasionally, because I do love my coffee!!) and enjoying a cup of tea instead. My energy was higher than it'd been in several years; and I felt like my old self.  As a bonus, I'd lost even more inches, and a few more pounds- now down about 10 lbs. from the last spring. Because of the muscle I'd gained and the inches I'd lost, most people thought it was much more than that. But my favorite part? I felt for the first time that my body was really, truly, totally rehabbed from my three babies. I could-and did-do whatever I wanted to do physically. I hadn't had a migraine in months, because my core was now strong enough to hold my spine in proper alignment. Even my ages-old chronic runner's knee leftover from high school cross-country days was beginning to feel better more days than it hurt me, which was a BIG deal. That's when I knew that I wanted more than just to practice barre3-I wanted to be a part of this organization in any way I could be. I met with Karie and asked if I could do childcare part-time (because every barre3 studio offers childcare) in exchange for classes. Even though I've dreamed some about the possibility of becoming an instructor one day and being able to offer the same support and encouragement to others I've found at Barre3, I knew that this was the involvement level we could handle right now with Adam still in the middle of his program. Karie willingly agreed, knowing how I love the company and the workouts; and just like that I've gotten to be a small part of the awesome new North Scottsdale studio. A few weeks ago I even began to float the idea of running again once in awhile to my husband, maybe training for a thanksgiving 5k, not entirely sure how it would go but knowing my body finally felt willing to try again.
So, this morning, I  finally suggested we go for a family jog.
I laced up my running shoes and headed out with my husband and three littles on the first cool-ish morning we've had here in Scottsdale since early last spring. Adam pushed the double jogger with the two littles-now 2 and 4-in it, while our almost-7-year-old rode ahead on his mostly outgrown  two-wheeler. The light was beautiful. My husband made some smart remark about the fact that we both had on the exact same shade of bright-blue pants on as our double stroller; I laughed--and began to run.
    I mentally help my breath at first, taking stock of each muscle and body part; but everything felt good. In fact, except for some tightness in that old runner's knee, everything felt really great. It was true-Barre3 had actually, totally helped me to rehab my body AND helped me maintain (or maybe even increase!) my cardiovascular strength. Now, I didn't run for 5 miles. And I didn't plan to, as this was just a trial run (quite literally). But I ran the whole way, felt strong and healthy--
and I didn't pee myself once.
   Thanks for helping me finally get here, Barre3. Sadie Lincoln--if you ever read this--I'm so thankful that the workout you created to rehab your own body has spread like wildfire and has now helped me rehab mine.  And I'm so thankful that I get to be a part-even a small part-of the barre3 community. Thank you for sharing this gift with all of us.

    And now: I'm not so into selfies. Honestly, I feel weird even posting these...because it's about SO much more than just weight. So much more has changed than just what you can see on the outside. But, I also know before and after pics can be nice...just to actually see what HAS changed on the outside. So, here's a few of mine:

Before: Jan. 2013 (9 months post-baby)

4 months into Barre3, 7months into barre: Dec. 2013

Before: Christmas 2012 (8 months post-baby)

 July 2014

my friends, now it's your turn....Robyn over at Real Food Whole Life (click that for the link!) is starting a 28 to Great challenge tomorrow and inviting everyone along for the ride! As an incentive, she also has a code for 30 days FREE online access to Barre3. That gives you access to the workouts, the recipes, and all the other good-ness barre3 online has to offer. If you've been seeing me post (and post and post) about this for the past year and ever thought about trying it out-here's a risk-free way to get started! You won't regret it. Trust me.

Adventures of the Cupboard Dweller: and away he goes...

To my Biggest Small Son,

    Last Thursday, you did it. Faced a fear head-on and conquered it. Chose to try, even if it meant failing, instead of balking. You stepped out, and you were ready....
...you learned to ride a two-wheeler.
     To some, that may seem like a child-hood no-brainer, a right of passage for a six year old. No big deal. some kids do it earlier; some later. And there's no denying it IS a right of passage. But for you, my highly-imaginative, I'll-do-it-on-my-own-time son, it's been more than that. It's been a definite process.  You see, you've loved your red and black Lightening McQueen bike since your Grammy and Grandaddy took you to pick it our for your 5th birthday. No problems with the training wheels on; you couldn't WAIT to ride! But taking the trainers off...well.
Here's where your beautifully active imagination (and, perhaps, a few too many reads of your Daddy's old Calvin and Hobbes comic books) got in the way. You were certain that the minute those training wheels were off and the adult nearby let go, you'd crash and break every bone in your body. Or, possibly, that your bike would eat you. So, you refused to try. We had a few go-rounds with the wheels off and the "c'mon, just TRY IT!" from your dad and I, until we had (another) mini-revelation and realized that this is just.how.you.are. You do things in your own way, on your own time, and you always have- whether it's potty training yourself at 18 months or learning to ride a two-wheeler at 6 1/2. So, we backed off and just tried to make bike riding fun. Which it is. We had races and played and took Grandaddy's suggestion about setting the training wheels a bit higher off the ground to start the idea of balance, which helped. Then, a few weeks ago, I remembered your Grammy's suggestion about removing the training wheels and pedals to basically make it a balance bike. I figured it was worth a shot; and within the first day I could see you becoming more comfortable with balancing, racing your bike, feet up, down the driveway.
     Then came Thursday, July 10th, 2014. I knew you were ready. I think you knew, too, but when I suggested putting the pedals back on you still acted a bit unsure. I could see you were nervous, and asked you to try it with me holding on, just once-if you weren't comfortable, we'd take the pedals back off again.  No pressure.
   But, really, I was pretty sure I wouldn't need to.
And sure enough, 10 seconds into your first ride, I let go and jogged alongside you----
and you were off. That was it. All it took, just one try--and you did it! I shouted and cheered, you laughed, so proud! Both of us, you and I-so proud of what you'd accomplished, of the way you'd swallowed hard and climbed on and did it. The next ride, I took a video per request and as soon as it ended, you gave a huge thumbs up and shouted, "Send it to Daddy!"
      Which of course I did. You made his day, buddy. A morning full of testing; he said he's walked out discouraged and then to get that video-the sunshine flooded into his day. He was so proud of you, too!
Because we knew-your daddy and I-that it wasn't just about learning to ride a bike. It was about learning that you can do it. And, perhaps even more importantly, that if you can't do it you sometimes just have to keep trying, and backing up and taking baby steps, until finally, finally, FINALLY you CAN do it--and then the whole world opens up to you. And that's good, too, because we know that "(trials) produce perseverance; and perseverance, character; and character, hope." (Romans 5:5, my paraphrase) Perseverance, my Small Son...Character, Hope...this is what we continually pray for and parent you towards. This is a huge part of what you need to be a man. Especially a man after God's own Heart.
     Perhaps the coolest thing about you learning to ride your bike last week? Just the joy of seeing your self-confidence sky rocket. The next day, we went to a cool pool here in town with some good friends. They had big-kid water slides and a diving well with high- and low-dives; and this summer you are just exactly the right height to go on them. But you were the only kiddo in our group who was tall enough, which meant you'd be on your own, mostly. No sweat to you...you asked if you could go on the big slides, I said yes, and off you went on your own. Bam. Conquered it. No sweat. And THEN, after 10 or so slides down the "fast slide" and a little playtime with your friends, you asked if you could go to the diving well at the other end of the pool. Again, I said yes; but this time I did walk over with you. Honestly, I wasn't sure how you'd do if you decided to go up the high dive-actually, I didn't think you'd even want to do the high dive because you're a bit nervous about heights in general. But after one jump off the low dive (piece of cake-we have a small diving board, so you're pretty used to that) you set your sights on the high dive.
   I was nervous for you, my son. Not sure if you'd get to the top and freeze, or not. Thinking that you looked so small standing with all the tweens and teens, even while wondering how on earth you'd gotten so big so quickly. And then it was your turn...and as I waited to the side I told you not to look down, to just climb up and look out and walk straight off...and you climbed up and walked out...and looked straight down. Now I could see you getting a bit afraid; it was awfully high. You started to walk backwards and I though for sure you'd climb back down the ladder, but  I didn't say anything; sometimes we're just plain not ready for the high dive and Iwanted you to make your own choice. Then-you stopped again. And walked forward again. And crouched waaaaay down....and jumped. I grinned and- honestly, my Small Son-almost cried. Just like that-you decided to be brave, and try, and you did it.
    I think you went off that high dive 5 or 6 more times that day, just to prove to yourself you could do it. I loved watching you, seeing you become even braver, although you were always cautious. Watching you decide on the last jump to swim all the way to the bottom of the 13-foot diving well and touch the bottom before rocketing up, gasping out, "I touched the bottom!!", proud of yourself. Your daddy laughed, surprised and thrilled with your bravery, when I told him the story that night. He went off the high dive?!? That's fantastic!!
    My Pax-boy, don't ever forget the small steps of bravery. Don't ever trivialize the times you depend on God and grab hold of who He is making you to be and just jump. It's the little things that add up to the big things. Character is built in the mundane. And every Warrior fights with a stick, long before he learns to hold a sword.

               We love you, Not-so-Small-Son. We are so proud of you. Now let's go ride our bikes!
                                 Perseverance produces Character, and character, Hope...
                                              and Hope does not disappoint.

In which I admit I don't understand. Except....I do.

Sometimes, I pretend not to understand this world. Sometimes, it feels good to just let myself feel the injustice of pain....and forget the rest.
We just got news of another sister who died young...the sister of a guy who was a youth leader with us in Durango, another lifetime ago. Bad car accident. The day we left Durango, my inlaws heard about a woman they know there who had gotten the news about a different car accident, that one in Wyoming...their daughter was gone. So was her boyfriend. Acquaintances from Durango, now relocated to Montana, lost their daughter at 30 weeks in utero...she had a heart condition; if she'd lived to 34 weeks they could have done surgery. But 30 weeks....she was too tiny. So she flew away, too....that was the day before Celine died.
Sometimes, I don't want to look any deeper than that; to try to understand it. Except, I already do understand it.
       I get frustrated with the way our world is right now. The pain, the sorrow, the cancer that takes young moms or dads away "too soon" in our eyes; the friends struggling to make ends meet; the teenage girl with internal pains no one seems to be able to solve. Those friends struggling with unfaithfulness in their marriage; the other ones who want a baby so very badly; the one struggling with depression. The school shootings, the bombings, the innocents abandoned and hurt...and there's so much hurt, so much grief, so much Ache.
      And then we get home and our baby, after a week of sleeping well, starts waking up 3 and 4 times at night and I'm so very weary from everything in the past few months, and I don't think I can do it.....and I get frustrated with his little one year old self (lame) and yell at God in my head that I JUST NEED A BREAK and for the kid to SLEEP and I know, I know that's the selfishly wrong response...that if that family in Montana just had their little girl here with them, they wouldn't care if she ever slept through the night....
Sin sucks. My selfishness is sin. Free will, free choice is a beautiful thing... But sin sucks. It's what made this world what it is, right now.

Please hear me...I am NOT saying these things happened because of something sinful these people
did. (Well, except for the unfaithfulness. That's obvious.) I am NOT trying to preach. I'm
telling you what I'm learning in the depths of my soul...things I need to write down so I don't forget;
so that someday, maybe, our kids will have some insight into this time. I AM saying that the reason these things hurt so much...the reason we cry out "Why, God??" and feel this Ache, this sense
of injustice is because...this wasn't the original design. And whether or not you believe in God, I 
know you still feel that, too. That something just isn't right here. 
I know it because you were created by Him, too, and deep inside there was placed in you a longing for the things of God. For God Himself.
          When God first created man it was to live in a perfect world...death wasn't part of it. Except He gave us the freedom to choose, because he wanted a relationship with us. Not a bunch of obediant puppets. And once they chose to sin (as we choose it, too. Ever lied?)...then death entered the picture. And things started fall apart...like bodies. And diseases came into the picture.  And pain. And grief. And babies who don't ever sleep through the night....
The beauty of all of this-everything spirling away from perfection and into chaos-is that, if we choose to see it, it shows us even more clearly that our God is all about restoration. About making the broken whole again.Thank goodness. This is part of what Adam talked about at Celine's service-how now, because of Christ's sacrifice, every death, every pain, every tearing of your heart can be redeemed. Turned into something beautiful, and whole, and restored. 
The scars don't ever go away. The ache is still there, at times, because we still live here. But although we long for the day when the ache will be gone for good and we will dance in His presence, somehow...even here, somehow He is using my scars-their scars-your scars- to form an even more beautiful, glorious tommorrow. And right now, that truth is what we are leaning on. "...weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning," Ps. 30:5 b

Seasons

So I have something God's been whispering to my heart lately. It's a lesson I've learned before, but I'm learning even more deeply now-about thriving in the season of life you're in (as in, thriving in whatever is going on in my life situation, currently); about living in the moment but not forgetting about the future; about having a thankful heart in all things and a little perspective. I was going to blog about it a little... but my good friend Jill just summed it up prettymuch perfectly-so I'm just gonna point you her way, instead.

A little bit of fall

What do you do when you're used to beautiful, chilly falls in Colorado-but are surrounded by cactus?

                                                  Drive up to Prescott on a Saturday whim,

 and find a random fall fair at a farm, complete with pumpkin patch, just waiting for you to discover!
Be sure to go on the hayride, pet the horses at the petting "zoo", and watch your husband drool over turkey legs-but decide that $8 is too much for a turkey leg.

 Let your Small Son ride on a cool barrel-pulled-by-tractor ride (hey, it's like a train!) and watch him practically jump out of his skin with excitement...

 ...and then let him get his face painted for the first time, to cap it off (I drew a heart on B's face with these cool wipe-off-oil-paintesk crayons we have when we got back to the car...wasn't gonna pay the $3 for  her. Sorry Little Bit-but you were pretty excited, anyway!)

And, of course, take the obligatory family picture on the hay bale, in which your children look like you dragged them there by their hair.

It was so much fun-a little cool, which was SO nice. AND after that? We continued on to Prescott, where we met up with an old friend of Adam's that we discovered had moved there in July with his wife...Adam hadn't talked to Paul in close to 2 years, and randomly emailed him to reconnect the day before...surprise!! he and his wife are now living in the little town we were planning on visiting the next day anyway. God's cool like that...He loves to show us how much He loves us through harvest carnivals and long-lost friends. So refreshing to these transplants who are still getting used to the fact that it's 97 degrees in the middle of October.

A quick update.

So, we're here. In Phoenix, in the hotness, starting a new adventure...my kids were in the pool at 8am this morning. It wasn't quite 90 degrees, which was a nice break from yesterday when it was 90 at 6am! The heat doesn't seem to bother the kiddos at all...but that might be because of the beautiful pool in the backyard of the house we're staying in! Not our own house,not yet; some friends of Adam's folks are letting us stay in their home so very generously while they excape the heat in D-town :) SUCH a blessing to not have to pay for a hotel! Adam starts his last prereqs on Monday, but his applications are already in; now the waiting, praying, and house hunting begin. Or continue,really. Cause that's never stopped...the kiddos are doing beautifully, at least so far. No issues with the transition-actually I think they had a harder time before we left, when we were staying at my parents' for 2 weeks. pax in particular. He knew what was happening and just wanted to get to Arizona already! Of course, we've been here all of 3 days...we were a bit (ok, a lot) delayed by croup, laryngitis, last-minute issues that had to wait till Monday in Ft.Fun, and more croup. But we got to spend an extra day in D-town with the cousins (oh my so much fun!)which was totally worth the delay. I have more, pictures too of course, but for now-we're he, we're safe, we're enjoying the pool! And I'm readjusting my thinking about what time of the year my kids can be outside in the middle of the day :)

Step up.

I have a dream-a passion-and it's time to step out. I know this in my heart, in my head...but so often fear of the "what if" gets in the way. And now...with the changes that may very well be coming to my family sooner than later, I wonder....how can it ever happen? I know I was created to do this...know that moving to Durango was a leap of faith that God used to grow me and teach me more. To give me even more passion and clarity about my dreams than I had before. I know, too, that the next "bend in the road" will do the same. I am simply at the place where I can't see around that bend--and therefore have a hard time understanding how any of it can happen. But God has been saying it for awhile-"Step up. Step out. Why not now? " I feel like Indiana Jones, about to step off the edge of a cliff, having faith that something will catch me before I fall....but I don't see what it is. So...faith. I trust you, Lord. You are my Savior, my Friend, and I told you a long time ago...anything, anywhere. Anytime. Your will. Whether I understand it or not...You prove to me over and over and over and over that if I just trust you and step out off the edge...it's always better than I ever dreamed or imagined. Give me strength, Lord...courage...wisdom to know where to step next. Here I go..........!