After 4 Full Weeks

Here are my results after 4 weeks of intense training and diet (with cheats).

Gym Poo-Pooers

I'm not sure if it's a word, but I'm writing about it anyway: gym poo-pooers.  Those people who look down on others' workouts. 

I was at the gym tonight, and I found myself poo-pooing this woman's workout.  And almost (thankfully) as soon as I thought the "why is she doing that?", I took it back.  Who am I to judge her workout?  I don't know her circumstances.  I don't know her abilities.  And yet, in two seconds I thought her weak.  How wrong I was!  At least she was at the gym, and at least she was doing something! 

Poo-pooing on someone is so dumb.  And I am very sorry that I did it today.  I'm making a conscious effort to stop the poo-pooing and concentrate on the positives in others and in myself.

Finding Motivation

Day 22.

I've made it 22 days, and I have to admit that I don't visually see any differences.  Without visual changes, motivation is hard to find.  Changes fuel training.  My coach and my research have told me that I need to trust the process. 

According to what I've read, it will take 3 weeks before my metabolism kicks in to high gear.  And it will take me 5 weeks of training to see visual differences.  I honestly never expected it to take this long.  When I thought that I'd be eating a restricted diet, training 5-6 days a week and drinking crazy amounts of water, I anticipated that changes would come quickly.  Boy, was I off base!

I weigh the same amount, and my measurements are pretty much the same.  However, I am MUCH stronger than I was when I began this journey.  In the gym tonight, I had an ah-ha moment.  I was on the captain's chair working my abs.  In times past, my arms would get tired from holding up my weight.  Tonight, I lifted myself with ease and was able to completely work my abs.  I was stoked!

So, despite the lack of anticipated visual changes, I can feel the changes happening!  I'm trusting the process and committing myself to the journey!

Let the Journey Begin!

My 12 week training program starts tomorrow.  I've researched, I've prepared, I've purchased and I've cooked.  This is going to test my determination, my will power and my strength. 

I have taken the last two weeks completely off.  Mostly because I just wanted to, but also to allow my body to completely recover from any past minor injuries and relax.

This will be interesting!

My first meeting with my coach.

Thankfully, I have a great coach for my journey to the stage.  My friend Cassie has been competing in the world of body building for nearly a year now, and she has graciously offered to help me on my journey.

We met today and I must admit that I'm overwhelmed.  We'll be doing a 12 week program that will start February 1. 

Here is what I learned about the first 8 weeks of my training.  Each day I will need to consume:

• 1,800 calories
• 180 grams of good carbohydrates
• 150 or more grams of protein
• 40 grams of healthy fats
• 6 meals

My training will be different than what I'm used to.  I will be doing 4 week splits.  I'll be doing the same exercises for 4 weeks and then switching it up.  I'm accustomed to hitting the gym without a schedule or set list of exercises.  That will all be changing.  I need to record my workouts, progress and setbacks. 

The 12 weeks will really be about monitoring my body.  What I put in it and what I get out of it.  Having a coach is going to be incredible!

Exercise A.D.D.

I have not been clinically diagnosed, nor do I think it is an actual condition; however, I would like to admit that I have exercise A.D.D.  If there is a fitness program out there, I most likely own it.  I have dozens of DVDs, books and magazines.  With so many options, it's hard to stay focused!

Random Thoughts with Ashley

Title: Death to Dye

We live in a world of instant gratification with pictures that show up in the blink of an eye, meals that can be fully cooked in less than 90 seconds and hair that can be any shade of the rainbow in a matter of minutes.

I was born a “toe head”.  This charming phrase was used to describe children with incredibly blonde hair.  Mine was really a shade of white-Christina Aguilera only wishes she had my genes.  I loved it.  I remember people stopping my mom in train stations to gawk at my brother and I, both of us toe heads.  We actually received gifts from two old ladies on one of the trains we took.  They made us these intricate star ornaments with crystal beads.  One lovely lady made mine predominately purple which was and always will be my favorite color.  My brother, well, he got a pink one.  At the wonderful age of 3, any gift is a welcomed gift no matter the connotation that follows a color.

As I got older, my eyebrows got darker and my hair became less white and more of a yellow.  By the time I was in fourth grade, it was almost brown.  In fact, I can’t remember anyone in my grade that had bright blonde hair.

In sixth grade, I got my period.  Gross- I know.  But any woman will tell you that it is a rite of passage: the bridge to womanhood.  At twelve, I cared nothing about being a woman.  I was more interested in Hostess products and hitting a baseball further than the boys.  My mother, however, gave me much more credit.  She gave me the free will of my hair.  I had always been able to choose my length and style for my haircuts.  And, believe me; I made some spectacular decisions on that front.  The “bowl cut” literally was my style for a few years.  Then, there was the time that it was neat to wet your bangs and use a fine toothed comb to create a sort of arch in one direction. 

This time, my mother allowed me to choose my color.  I had been helping my mom highlight and dye her hair for a few years at this point, and I was always intrigued with the process and the exhilarating final product.  So, while my mom and I were at the grocery store picking up some “Frost and Glow”, she bought me my very own box.  I remember the first time I got my hair dyed.  We were in our kitchen, both of us with those silly caps on and strands of our hair sticking out and over our heads as though we were a shower head on full speed.  It was fun to bond with my mom that way.  We’ve always had a great relationship, but knowing that every 4-6 weeks we’d have a little hair adventure only made us stronger.

I was hooked.  From that point on I colored my hair at least every three months.  Three was pushing it and I only went that long if I was broke.  My friends and I would choose various shades to play and experiment with.  Without fail, my hair would always turn out bright yellow.

At sixteen, I got my first professional coloring treatment.  And I never used box color again.  I’ve been platinum blonde, strawberry blonde, dark brunette and then the horrifying “confused” shade where you can see so many colors in your hair that it’s hard to describe yourself.  I’ve had deep red streaks, orange streaks and black undergrowth.  The undergrowth dye job was a great decision right before my high school graduation.  I mean, it’s not like anyone takes pictures of that event.  And no one ever remembers it or creates a shrine in their hallway to commemorate it.  Yes, in fact they do.  That dye job will haunt me for a lifetime.

So, now that I’m 26, I have spent over half of my life dying my hair.  And I can honestly say  I’ve never left the salon chair completely satisfied.  It has always been a letdown.  The shade that I strived for never came to fruition, and yet, I still continued to pay for it every six weeks or so. 

This past year, I came to a frustrating halt.  I would consult beauticians about my shade of choice without any encouragement: “You can’t be that shade.” or the ever popular “It will take a few tries before we get that one right.” So, I stopped.

I can honestly sit here and type to you that I have not colored my hair in 58 weeks.  And I have to admit, God knew what He was doing!  I finally have that shade that I’ve always strived for; the one that I saw in magazines or on strangers that I’d encounter and be too embarrassed to ask where they got their hair done.  All along, I was taking steps to achieve what had already been given to me.  I was so focused on what I wanted that I couldn’t see what I already had.

I’m writing this to you because I feel that we do that a lot in life.  Strive for something that we already possess but are too future focused and ignorant to God’s glory for our lives that we don’t see it.  Now, hair color isn’t my way of telling you that God loves me.  It’s my way of telling you that God knows what is best for us.  He planted a shade in my brain for years and I was doing all that I could to achieve it when all it took was for me to sit back and be patient.