Now that my mornings are running a bit more efficiently (because someone is eating more efficiently), I find myself increasingly capable of getting to the gym by 8:30AM. While I always reserve this time for clients, I'm finding that Tuesday and Thursday mornings are usually left open—which is great for me, because then I can take two of my favorite fitness classes. Spin/Core on Thursdays and Yoga on Tuesdays.
So I took the Yoga class yesterday. It was the second time I've taking a Yoga class since my daughter was born in January. (Gosh, I love it.) And oddly enough, I stumbled upon the following infographic last week. I took it as a sign that I really, truly needed to get my booty back in the Yoga studio. May it inspire you as well.
Oh, and...insert hands in front of heart center here...namaste.
Wednesday, May 30, 2012
Tuesday, May 29, 2012
A Letter To My Future Self
T,
As I sit here right now, I think only of you and I wonder what has become of you. Are you in good health? Did you have more children? How many pairs of shoes do you own, and did you ever master that pull-up? Since I am you (as it turns out), I will know these things in due time. Life, after all, always finds a way to evolve—and I'll have you know that I have done everything in my power to make sure that yours does so swimmingly.
Well, maybe not "swimmingly" because (let's face it) we hate to swim.
But we do like to exercise. At least I hope you still do. I don't know how old you are, but I hope you are one of those ladies of age that younger girls look at and think, "dang...she's that old? inspiring..." Most specifically, I hope that Hannah looks at you and thinks it, too.
People are telling me (the younger you) that I am a great mom, so I hope you realize that you were a great mom and that you did everything you could to raise your daughter to be her happiest, healthiest best. She might hate you and proclaim as much, but I'm writing this to remind you that at one point she snuggled you with a heart so big that yours broke into a million-zillion pieces of love. And that she used to smile bigger than big when you'd wake her up in the morning, triggering almost-tears of joy from your own eyes.
And then there's your husband. Never forget that you were a great wife. And you were as much because you have a great husband. He might hate exercise, but opposites have truly attracted. I hope you still meet once a week for a picnic lunch downtown. I hope you still spend summer Sundays walking about the same 'ol antique booths on the bluff. And I hope you still laugh about the dumbest things. (And, seriously, don't ever stop trying to convince him to love exercise. He's such a brat about it, but do me a solid and keep bugging him.)
As I (you) write this, 31 years have passed by. And in those 31 years, you have studied much and partied (not necessarily the boozy type) often. You danced, you dreamed and you made life yours. And as I write this, I can't help but overflow with excitement for what the next 31 (hopefully more) years will bring you (us).
Never forget that you are capable of making your dreams come true.
Never forget that good health and happiness is yours for the taking
Never forget that mirrors tell lies if you look into them without truth and honesty.
Never forget that you are strong and beautiful in your own way.
Never forget that you have a family, a perfect family despite any and all imperfections.
And never, ever forget that you are loved. Especially by me.
Signed,
T
PS: And please don't ever forget how much you love chocolate and Target. Thanks.
As I sit here right now, I think only of you and I wonder what has become of you. Are you in good health? Did you have more children? How many pairs of shoes do you own, and did you ever master that pull-up? Since I am you (as it turns out), I will know these things in due time. Life, after all, always finds a way to evolve—and I'll have you know that I have done everything in my power to make sure that yours does so swimmingly.
Well, maybe not "swimmingly" because (let's face it) we hate to swim.
But we do like to exercise. At least I hope you still do. I don't know how old you are, but I hope you are one of those ladies of age that younger girls look at and think, "dang...she's that old? inspiring..." Most specifically, I hope that Hannah looks at you and thinks it, too.
People are telling me (the younger you) that I am a great mom, so I hope you realize that you were a great mom and that you did everything you could to raise your daughter to be her happiest, healthiest best. She might hate you and proclaim as much, but I'm writing this to remind you that at one point she snuggled you with a heart so big that yours broke into a million-zillion pieces of love. And that she used to smile bigger than big when you'd wake her up in the morning, triggering almost-tears of joy from your own eyes.
And then there's your husband. Never forget that you were a great wife. And you were as much because you have a great husband. He might hate exercise, but opposites have truly attracted. I hope you still meet once a week for a picnic lunch downtown. I hope you still spend summer Sundays walking about the same 'ol antique booths on the bluff. And I hope you still laugh about the dumbest things. (And, seriously, don't ever stop trying to convince him to love exercise. He's such a brat about it, but do me a solid and keep bugging him.)
As I (you) write this, 31 years have passed by. And in those 31 years, you have studied much and partied (not necessarily the boozy type) often. You danced, you dreamed and you made life yours. And as I write this, I can't help but overflow with excitement for what the next 31 (hopefully more) years will bring you (us).
Never forget that you are capable of making your dreams come true.
Never forget that good health and happiness is yours for the taking
Never forget that mirrors tell lies if you look into them without truth and honesty.
Never forget that you are strong and beautiful in your own way.
Never forget that you have a family, a perfect family despite any and all imperfections.
And never, ever forget that you are loved. Especially by me.
Signed,
T
PS: And please don't ever forget how much you love chocolate and Target. Thanks.
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