live your life with purpose
When we lived in the Euclid house, about half a block away in the now empty lot of Sara’s Dance Studio, there was a small store called The Cottage. That’s where my sister, Wendy, stuck her tongue to the street pole one winter. That’s where …
I wrote a lot in 2017. Maybe not a lot for some people, but for me, it was a lot. I really stayed on top of getting a blog post out every week. I had a lot of good feedback from people about my writing. …
As I was sitting down to write today’s blog, I was having a hard time thinking of something to write about. Sometimes, it just isn’t there. Most of the time it is. Today it wasn’t.
I started to reflect on 2017, so I decided to write about that. I decided to write about my 2017 life.
Life ebbs and flows. Business ebbs and flows. Eating healthy and working out ebb and flow. It’s a constant. It’s not any different than it has ever been with anybody. It’s the way of the world. Some ebbs are lower than others. Some flows last longer than others. All in all, that’s what happens in our lives though.
I had some things fade away that needed to fade away. I had some things fade away that I don’t know the reason why yet. I had a lot of progress in 2017, and a lot of good movement.
I learned a lot about myself. I worked really hard this year. I launched an online training business and worked hard to learn the ins and outs of all things related to it. I learned I could do it. It was hard as hell, but I persevered and did it. I built my own website and sent out weekly emails to a list I set up and created. I released training programs and sent out a lot of free content to my list. I also put together a Women’s Retreat, Body Image Without Prejudice, this past fall which was really fun and eye-opening. I believe women shouldn’t have to worry about how they look. I feel like we shouldn’t be told how to look. It is a super important issue for me. It is a passion of mine.
I wrote 65 blog posts. My goal was to write one every single week. I did that and more. My writing style is my own. I don’t try to copy anyone else. The words land on the paper the way I would say them if you were talking to me in person. It’s how I am. I feel I am real. I feel I am honest and kind and authentic. I don’t like fake and I don’t do fake.
I became a certified nutrition coach through Precision Nutrition. It is a habit-based nutrition program. Level 2 was a year long study. So was Level 1, which I finished in 2016. I also am working on a few other certifications. One is strictly geared toward women, specifically pre and post pregnant women. It is so interesting. It is just taking longer than I wish. I am also working on an online trainer certification, which is also going slow.
This year I learned that stress has definitely affected my health. I presume 6 plus years of 12 plus hours a day tends to catch up with a person. I wasn’t eating right, I was drinking too much wine and I was definitely not getting enough sleep. I have corrected those things and feel much better now. My body has been out of balance, huge ebb, and is now heading toward the flow. I am starting to feel more “normal.” I am progressing.
I have done a lot of forgiving this year and it has freed a lot of energy and creativity for me. I have let go of a lot of things from my past. I can’t control them and I won’t let them control me. It feels great.
I learned that I can do whatever I want to do. I learned to not hold back and to just go for it. I didn’t want to look back and wonder. I just didn’t.
Heading into 2018, my goals are simple. I don’t do resolutions. I do real. I do realistic. I want to continue to grow my business. I am going to be launching some exciting programs in studio. I want to read more. I want to finish up the projects I have going on now. I want to finish up the certifications I am enjoying right now. I want to finish what I started.
The favorite Christmas ornament. There is always one. There is. It’s the favorite Christmas ornament. The one that means the most to you. The one that brings back all the memories of the person who gave it to you. The one that is sentimental, special …
Last week I was on the road early. It was Friday. December. I was out of town by 7 a.m. It’s interesting when I travel I am constantly scouring the prairie for deer and other wildlife. If I am out of town before sunrise, I …
Today is National Pearl Harbor Remembrance Day, also referred to as Pearl Harbor Day, December 7th. This day is observed annually in the United States to remember and honor the 2,403 citizens of the United States who were killed in the Japanese surprise attack on Pearl Harbor in Hawaii on December 7, 1941. Today is also Sandy’s birthday. It was always easy for me to remember her birthday because of Pearl Harbor Day. Today she would have been 65. Several months ago I wrote about her. If you want to read that post, here is the link. https://peggielarsen.com/when-god-closes-a-door-he-opens-a-window/
I have been feeling weird lately. Weird as in my thinking has not being clear. It has been cloudy. It has been odd. It has been fuzzy. It has been hard to focus. It has been hard to concentrate on things. I have been feeling stifled.
Every single year around the holidays this happens. I should pick up on it by now. I should be able to figure it out. I should know why. But every single year, I go through the cloudy. I go through the odd. I go through the fuzzy. Maybe a slight depression with winter settling in. Or maybe just holiday hard.
Something always triggers it. Something reminds me. Something brings it all back. The missing. The love. The hard. The holiday hard. We miss people differently, yet the same. We love people differently, yet the same. The holidays are always hard when loved ones are gone. The holidays make us miss people harder.
The trigger today was a song. Songs are always a trigger for me. The song today made me miss my dad. The song today made me miss Sandy. It’s funny that I would miss them both today because of this song. The group is Tabitha’s Secret, Rob Thomas before Matchbox Twenty. The song was Dizzy. I have it rolling around on a few Spotify playlists and today it made an appearance. A timely appearance. An appearance that made me realize why I have been feeling cloudy and odd and fuzzy and holiday hard. I think it is a way so I don’t forget. So I always remember the fun times. So I always remember the good times. So I always remember the hard times. So I always remember.
I remember after Dad had died, Sandy was there for me. She was so there for me. She was so supportive and so kind. A true friend. I remember playing these songs for her. I remember her telling me how much she liked them. There were several by Tabitha’s Secret. Forever December and Here Comes Horses are two favorites. I rarely can listen to them without tearing up. Without thinking of her and Dad. Isn’t it funny how songs do that to us. Very cliche’, but the song takes you right back to where you were, as if listening to it in that very moment. The sad moment. The missing moment. The hard moment.
It’s hard to believe that Sandy has been gone almost 15 years. It’s hard to believe that Dad has been gone over 17 years.
Happy Birthday Sandy – Enjoy that bottle of Scotch.
This week I was trying to think of something to write about. Most times, things are just right there. This week was a little bit different for some reason. My thoughts have not been clear. They have been super jumbled together and fuzzy. I have …
Every year around this time we get the Christmas tree. Every year around this time we wonder why it is so big. Every year around this time we struggle getting it into the house. Today was no different. Today is Sunday, December 3, 2017. This …
It was Friday. It was the first day of December. The now.
I was planning on going to the play Calendar Girls with a couple of girlfriends, after dinner and drinks. We wanted to support a friend of ours who was in the play.
My day was going great. I had a facial earlier in the day and then was home cleaning and writing. As you know, if you read a few blog posts ago, I am struggling with pullups. I had a good training session today though. The pull-ups hurt my forearm, but the chinups were feeling great. I felt accomplished.
I was relaxing for a while before I needed to take a shower and go meet Cara and Laura. I had a glass of wine and just felt chill.
I was going to wear a sweatshirt that has a bunch of holes in it and part of the neck cut out, because I like stuff like that, and don’t really care if anyone else does. It’s my style. It had ME cut out all over it.
I went upstairs to take a shower and noticed the very cool Chestee sports bra that I bought on Black Friday. The Lulu. You know the company is serious when they name all their sports bras. I thought it would look good with the sweatshirt. The bras are geared towards women and lifting. Specifically padding up near the collarbones. Not that I do any of that kind of lifting, but they make them so nice looking that why the hell wouldn’t people buy them. They aren’t cheap, but the quality is excellent. I have a couple other ones that I bought on sale and when I went to order this one, I remember thinking to myself that because it had a different kind of bottom part, maybe I should size up. But I didn’t. First mistake: Always listen to your gut.
I took off the tags and held up the bra. I looked at the bottom part trying to figure out how it goes on. I pulled on it a little bit and thought it seemed a little tight. Not a big concern, because most of these bras fit pretty snugly. So I put the bra on over my head and thought, holy crap, this is tight. I got it down over my boobs feeling the whole time like I just had a mamogram. So damn tight. Second mistake: Never try on sports bras when you are sweaty or having hot flashes.
Okay, so it’s on now and it’s tight, but I think it’s okay. It took at least five minutes to get it on and in place. That should have been a clue for what was to come. Time to take it off so I can take a shower. Well, it is so tight I can’t even begin to get it off. I was thinking what the F? I finally got it up to above the boobs, after the second mammogram of the day. I kept trying but couldn’t get it up any further. I kept thinking, how the hell am I going to get this off? Shit, I’m going to be late. Why isn’t John here? He’s usually home early on Fridays. The dogs sure as shit won’t be able to help me. What am I going to do? Tayler isn’t here either. I’m home alone. All those thoughts are running through my head trying to get this stupid sports bra off. I haven’t moved like that since high school. Pretty sure I invented some new dance moves or some awesome ninja moves. I was trying and trying to get this thing off of me. I reached back over my head and grabbed the straps. I pulled hard. All I heard was seams popping and ripping, but nothing moved. UGH!!! Now I’m getting pissed. I was wondering if I laid down I could somehow get this thing off. Ummmm, bad idea. Writhing and squirming and bouncing, nothing worked.
I’m pissed because this bra was EXPENSIVE and I didn’t want to ruin it. I thought if the seams just popped or stretched a little, it would still be okay. I tugged again. Nothing! I’m stuck. See, I told you the quality was excellent. My thought process here was that because of the pull up program that has been kicking my ass for the last nine weeks it has also made my lats so big that I will never get this bra off. No matter what I did, I could not get the bra over my lats. I tried to shift from side to side to slide it up. No luck. No big break. Not happening. What the hell??? I’m sweaty as fuck now because I have been wrestling with this sports bra for ten minutes with no luck. It doesn’t help that I am having hot flashes the whole time too.
Now its getting serous. By this time, I am going to be late. If I don’t get this bra off in the next few minutes, I am going to be late. I don’t do late. I just don’t. I wrestled with the bra some more. Nothing! I cannot get this thing off. I walk over to the drawer at the bathroom counter. I open it. I look around for the one item that will get this damn bra off me, the scissors. I pick them up and start cutting. The dilemma was killing me. I didn’t want to ruin this bra by having to cut it off me. I have never had to do this before with a sports bra. Why now? Why with one that had to cost so much? Why such a cool looking one?
I cut it. I had to. I had to escape the sports bra. I had to, I had to, KILL it! Bye, bye Chestee so cool sports bra. So sorry we couldn’t live in peace with each other.
Lessons learned: Always listen to your gut and never try on sports bras when you are sweaty or having hot flashes.
When my dad died in 2000, it came as a total shock to us. He seemed totally fine and then he was gone. He had major health problems before that, quadruple bypass surgery at 48, and double bypass again at 58. They say it …