State Road Race

It was the race I set my eye on a few months ago.  The race that got me up to ride alone at 5:30am (the struggle).  The race I like to call bittersweet.  The race that finished the year of me dipping my toes into road racing.  I made the not so smooth transition from triathlons to road races at the beginning of this year.  Not so smooth because for the most part I felt like a fish out of water, flopping around.  I went into this race haunted by my lack luster performances at the beginning of this year.  Race 1: dropped in the first 5 minutes.  Race 2: Dropped in the first 10 miles.  At that point, I didn’t want to race until I felt comfortable with my ability to compete.  One of the best decisions I made was to find a coach that fit me, not me trying to fit my coach, and I couldn’t be more grateful for him.  He pushed me to a lot of my limits, both physically and mentally, those few weeks leading up to the race.

Florida state road race for my category was two 16 mile loops and luckily cat 4 women had their own start.  I surprisingly started the race relatively calm, which is the opposite of how I start any competitive event.  I’m usually going through 564 scenarios, overthinking life.  With the first few uphills, I just observed the girls, keeping an eye on anyone coming up on the sides, going over all the words of wisdom.  It’s the first race I observed versus just trying to survive.  On the first major climb I noticed a gap start to open.  Thanks to the advice of a friend, I didn’t freak but kept my pace and closed the gap on the downhill, saving legs.  It was here that I realized I needed to start the climbs at the front of the pack.  This way I could either control the pace or fall back into the group.  Going into the second lap, I was in the front of the group.  For the first time not in the back, not chasing the group down, not riding past the start/finish alone.  I settled in and prepared for it to get harder and it did.  Up…down…push the pace…a few miles to go, mentally preparing myself for the downhill finish.  On the second to last climb is where the race took a turn and the group split.  We worked and caught them on the last climb.  At this point I gave it all I had, anything I had left to keep with the group.   Legs shaking, lungs burning, teeth grinding, wait is that throw up? There are few things more discouraging than getting to this point and still watching the group creep away.  What is even more defeating was knowing there was only 3K to go.   I came over the top and with the last bit left I made on more effort, but just couldn’t close the gap into the next small climb.  It was a rush of disappointment and anger.  I came into the finish line frustrated, I don’t think I can properly put into words how I felt.  My mind flooded with just brutal negativity.

I grabbed a burger, followed by a cold beer and reflected.  I’m sure I did about 27 things wrong and paid for it at the end but it was the first time I didn’t feel like a rookie that didn’t belong.  It was the race where I actually strategized.   Sparing the details of the numbers, it was some of the best riding I’d done all year.  There was massive progress from race 1.  I didn’t get the results I wanted, but there was a lot of be happy with. Preparing for this race taught me so much about myself, this sport and did more for me than anyone will know.  So a huge thank you to Patrick from Pinnacle Coaching for drawing the map, taking on this rookie and getting me as ready as possible.  The men of Outcast for the advice, tips and laughs.  Momma duck for the constant support from day 1. Time to go from dipping my toes to diving right into cycling and prepare for next season.  ~AddingMoMiles

Hello Boulder

It has been quite some time since I put something on here.  Lets just say life has been, well, life.  You get caught up on the day and day, open your eyes one morning and realize two months have gone by.  In order to break the mundane routine, the same training grounds, we packed up bikes and headed to Boulder, Colorado.  This trip kind of came randomly.  I figured, you only live once (yes, that’s yolo) and I was in need of that change. So we spent weeks looking at the Airbnb pictures of the house, anticipating this trip.  I knew it was going to be hard, I knew it would be grueling, but as a girl from the flat lands of Miami, this would be my first experience with real climbing.  Clermont?  Sugarloaf? Pretty much a joke to what we were about to climb.   I pictured, I imagined, and never did I think it would be so….incredible (yet painful).

After a much delayed flight, we made it to the house up on the mountain side, pretty much just in time for sunrise.  We were supposed to nap, but the last thing I wanted to do was sleep.  Hell, I was in Boulder.  So I sat out on the porch, watched the sunrise and light spread on the mountain around us.  What a poetic sap, right?  I’m just getting started.  Some breakfast on the terrace, fancy coffee making and bike building, we were heading on the rocky dirt road for some “light” climbing.  I don’t do well with rocky gravel roads, first thing I learned.  What….the….blame altitude, lack of sleep, rookie experience but 10 minutes into our first climb and my heart rate had sky rocketed.  I could barely catch a breath and felt like I was about to lose breakfast.  This was the easy part of the climb, mind you.  I turned it around, found a safe spot and gathered myself.  I did this two more times until I finally made it up to part that “flattened” out.  By this point I had lost everyone, including my Ziploc (my cycling wallet) with ID and credit card, and what felt like my soul.  After a 30 minute search up and down, one of the guys had found it earlier and stashed in their pocket.  Crisis averted.  So I continued on the road, roaming, lost on a mountain.  I figured at some point, they’d come back down the same road and they did.  The funny thing (but not so funny) about having a house on a mountain is that after a few hours of cycling, you have to climb back up to the house.  Ha. I was barely able to eat much, so my energy levels were at about -5.  I felt pretty awful and did my best to hide it (probably unsuccessfully).  With a little help, showing me how to pace on a climb, made it up.  I don’t know how pace on a climb, second thing I learned.

If I thought day 1 was a struggle, day 2 was, well, I don’t know how to even put into words.  We had an ex Miamian, now Boulder local, take us on what was some well-known climbs.  Mother of god, Flagstaff.  15 minutes, still climbing, 30 minutes, still climbing, 45 minutes, I am still climbing.  The array of emotions you go through.  “I can’t do this”, “man the f up”, “oh look at the view”, “it’s not worth the pain”, “yes it is”, “I got this”, “is that a tear??”, “think of the photo op”, “F that I’m done”, “why am I such a little bitch”, “must keep going”, “when is breakfast” I don’t think I would have made it as far as I did if it weren’t for one of the guys that came back, for what I felt was emotional support and a literal push up the mountain.  He patiently, even though I was not exactly a ray of sunshine, rode next to me, took breaks, until I literally could no longer pedal.  Note to self, unclip quickly or you will fall over. I don’t think I thanked him enough. I made it up Flagstaff and up towards Super Flag (where it took a turn for the worse).  The top of Super Flag will have to wait for the next trip.  It was very disappointing but there wasn’t much to do but just know I have to keep training, keep trying, keep building and getting those #gains.

Wait, we’re not done.  Lets go to a harder climb.  Magnolia.  It has such a pretty name, but it isn’t.  It just looked scary.  I gave it a try and knew I wasn’t making it far.  I turned it around and kept on the highway road we used to get there.  Nothing mattered but that exact moment, not how far I could get up the mountain, not watts, speed, how far I have to go, the disappointment in my performance, cycling gossip, bills, or troubles.  I was on a road between two mountains, absolutely clear blue skies, fresh air, riding along the side of a small river.  It was just a reminder of the joy riding brings, why I do what I do, why I love this sport so much; for what it could show me, for the places my bike could take me. If nothing went right the rest of the trip, it would still be a great trip.

We did some running, hiking and of course more riding the next two days.  Climb by bike and climb by foot.  We did it for the views (pots of gold) and the Instagram post, of course.  We laughed, a lot.  Drank good beer, shared a lot of stories.  A melt down or two and got some really good tips from a cycling veteran.  I could tell you this, the city itself surprised me, but the friends and cyclists I was with, impressed me.  Don’t tell them this though, I’ll never live it down, but their will to keep going on these climbs; their ease making it up, it was motivating.  They are great athletes.  It makes you want to get stronger as a cyclist.  Their love for sport, it rubs off.  They made the trip what it was, pretty memorable.  This was not only a great trip but it opened my eyes to what I want next, what I want to do and put a plan into place to work towards and get it.  You could say I’m excited for what’s next. ~AddingMoMiles

Never Stop Chasing

Oh Clermont, we meet again.  There is always something about this tiny little place that can easily suck the life out of you.  It’s humbling.  With each race I do, I learn just a little bit more.  This weekend we headed up to Race of the West.  Packed the bikes and four bodies (thug life) into one hotel room.  If anything, the weekend was filled with a lot laughs, hashtags, and new found respect for a tub with proper draining.

CLEEEERMONT!

Saturday I woke up with mixed emotions, one was I can’t wait to do this…the other was I’ve changed my mind, I’m staying in bed (child tantrum).  This would be my first circuit so I went with one goal, stay with the main group.  A circuit: a road cycling race that’s several laps in a given amount time, this one was 40 minutes, just in case anyone was wondering.  I didn’t want to be that one lonely straggler.  I didn’t want a DNF.  Worse off, I didn’t want to make a rookie mistake and take someone down.  Setting some realistic goals here people.  So I line up, hands shaking and heart pounding (please don’t throw up).  After a few rules (don’t ever fold your number) we were off…and of course, I can’t clip in (wtf!). After what felt like the longest seconds, I finally get clipped and head off to close off whatever gap had created.  I knew I had to find a way to calm myself down, this kind of nervous just makes you jittery on the bike, which never leads to anything good.  We get into a surprisingly steady rhythm.  The road starts to curve and we take a few turns, nothing I couldn’t handle. Until we come to the last turn towards the start/finish.  This is where I realized more than ever that I can’t take a turn if my life depended on it (great!).  So the rest of the race I knew I was going to be closing gaps. (#thegapclosers).  This is just an unnecessary waste of energy and work.  It’s hard to think of any kind of strategy when you don’t know what to expect (is someone going to attack!?) and you can’t take a damn turn.  Other than sprinting to catch the group after certain turns, the race went at a good pace.  It’s not that it was easy, but when you spend your weekend trying to keep up with some of these boys (key word being trying), you kind of expect that level of intensity.  “1 lap left”, so I was ready for some kind of showdown but it went like any of the other loops.  That was until the finish line was in sight (it’s going down).  I never imagined how much goes on at this finish line.  I come from races where you come in alone.  In this case, you have to worry about those sprinting inches from you, the wheel in front of you (note to self: don’t get behind a girl that’s going to slow down), is there space for you to move forward, is someone going to make a dumb mistake and cut you off, are you in the right gear (this was more of an afterthought).  All while going as fast as possible, giving whatever you have left.  There’s a lot going on and little time to react.  You just get this tunnel vision.  Shut.up.legs. Finito!! Second thought, after holly hell, can we do it again?? After a minor heartache in the guy’s race, some breakfast, the procession for showers, we head to drive the course for the Road Race.  My one thought, I wish I hadn’t.

That’s me…in the back…

The course of the road race on Sunday was 4, 11 mile loops.  With a climb that has been crowned “the wall”.  I’ll leave it at that.  I went in this race with my general attitude.  Small accomplishments, just finish.  I should have gone into this race thinking fight like hell to stay with the group (it’s a learning process). The race starts like all others, steady pace…and then the wall (wait.for.me).  Surprise, surprise I get dropped.  But instead of saying that’s it, I chase down the group.  Pedal like hell on the downhill.  I pass a girl and in true sportsman like conduct tell her to get on my wheel and I start closing the gap, only to realize I was starting to run out of push.  I ease up on the pedal and she starts to pull. With a whole lot of effort we manage to get back with the group. “Never stop chasing, you never know” she tells me with a smile and that stuck with me the rest of the race…and will for the rest of my races (actually, in life).  I got dropped on the next longer climb and worked just to keep the group in sight.  Into the second loop my roommate caught up after dropping the chain and we worked together to catch two other girls.  A big thank you to her for keeping me going, for helping me out when my legs just couldn’t. Wind, climbs, numb legs, snot and other things…we finished together and the second we unclipped took a seat on the grass, there was just nothing left to walk.  I don’t think we’ve ever pushed ourselves this much in a race.  It felt good… ~AddingMoMiles

Count Your Blessings

Food comas and food babies plagued people all over the US last night, myself included.  Actually I still have a food bump this morning…and I’m ok with this.  I was lucky enough to be surrounded by lots of love this holiday and two of my favorites.  I say it that way because most of my life I wasn’t able to.  It’s not a tradition my family participated in.  Last Thanksgiving didn’t go as planned, and wasn’t exactly filled with love but that’s a story for another day.  So before we dug into the grub, someone at the table asked what we were thankful for…and it got me thinking:

• How much and how little my life has changed.
• My friends and the women who surround me.  The family I got to pick and that have been there so much for me, especially these last two years.  I’m still waiting for our reality show contract.
• My family, we are a circus of crazy (and I’m an active participant in this crazy) but there is not a group of people that can make me feel so absolutely loved as they do.  My sister is on speed dial, you know incase I ever have to hide a body.  My mom, she’s the ring leader of crazy, is an example of real strength.  My old man, he keeps me grounded.
• My health.  No matter what I put my body thru (A LOT), it keeps going, keeps fighting.  I’m lucky to be able to do what I do, train and race. I know that one day, that won’t be the case.
• The mental and physical strength I’ve reached this year.
• Ironman, sometimes you lose yourself in what you love…sometimes you find yourself.
• Pizza, of all meanings.
• The little home my roommate and I have built.  Sometimes messy, but it’s ours.
• Finding a job I am genuinely enjoying, where my opinion actually matters and coming into the office isn’t so bad (though I rather be on the beach)
• Cold sand…just feels nice between your toes.
• My training buddies, jungle buddies, Jungle Fitness, Reaction, All4Cycling, all of it. Where else can I find someone as insane as myself?
• Whatsapp.  Don’t judge.
• Coffee.  I don’t even have to explain this.
• Motivational quotes.  Not all of us may post them, but I know all of you love to read them.  Your secret is safe with me.
• Love and losing it. You learn a lot about yourself.
• Team Betty.  Now, representing this brand is beyond great.  But what I wasn’t expecting was the impact of getting to know some of these women, their story and their strength.  It’s humbling and motivational.
• My bike, how did my bike end up so low on this list??
• Champagne and orange juice…yes mimosas, which of course is included in brunch.  Again, don’t judge me.

This list can continue on and on, may have even forgotten a few important ones.  I know that some of them sound mundane and a little silly but it’s kind of the little things that make you happy you have to be grateful for.  We can’t always control health or peoples actions but we can have things that just kind of make it easier to get by (yes I’m talking about coffee).  Its things that without, you wouldn’t exactly be as happy as you are.  Do you know how many great moments I’ve had around a few glasses of mimosas?  I found out about the first baby in my group of girlfriends over mimosas.  We were having them, momma to be wasn’t.  I’ve had some of the greatest conversations and laughs over a cup of coffee.  I’m a lucky girl. ~AddingMoMiles.

 

Countdown Begins

 

61 day till Louisville!!! #@%&!!! Now that I have that off my chest…can you tell I’m a little excited. Yes, excited! Surprisingly not nervous, scared or curled up in the fetal position in a corner. I thought at this point in training I would have had some kind of breakdown or sending this race to hell but I’m not. I can honestly say it isn’t going too bad. I would love to bask in the glory that is sleeping in some Sundays and not come close to running a half marathon on a Thursday night that leaves me comatose but in general I’m staying pretty calm and collected. This kind of worries me cause calm and collected isn’t really my thing. I may be making this up, but I’m going to say I feel like I’m finally mentally there; lets light some candles this last until race day.

Life out by Robert’s in Homestead

I think it’s seeing the results that have me in this I will survive moment.  After a lot of frustration, some anger, and a few temper tantrums, my bike is where I want it to be. I’m hitting averages that I have never hit before. They say it’s the borrowed 404’s, I’m saying it’s all my big ol’legs. I’m well on my way to my goal time for the bike in the race. My goal is to cross the finish line but I got a few times in my head to keep me a little motivated on race day. No, I won’t be sharing them. I am genuinely enjoying being on the bike. Maybe not always 5 hours, but I don’t look at it like homework. I was constantly thinking and over analyzing when I would go out on the bike. What if I start to hard and blow up my legs, I don’t like being in the group cause it’s absolute madness sometimes, am I drinking enough water? Screw that. Now I’m getting on that bike, getting all up in the group, pushing myself and it’s a damn good time. If my legs blow up, I just pedal myself back at whatever speed they can go. Obviously this isn’t my race day strategy, but it’s getting me the strength, speed and mental willpower I’m going to need because when you’re 3:30 hours in, you’re legs screaming mercy, and you’re still out there in the middle of homestead, you have no choice but to make it back. My run, doesn’t get a whole soliloquy like my bike (no surprise) but I’m getting thru them. We don’t always see eye to eye but I don’t dread them anymore (progress).

Seriously

There are few things one fears when training more than injury. This past weekend the back of my knee really started to hurt, turns out it’s my calf. So much that I had to take Sunday off. I did bask in the glory that is sleeping in Sunday morning, but it was bittersweet. I wanted to train; I don’t want to put my progress on pause.   But better a few days than a few weeks. I am worried, moments of panic as I limped back to my car when it started to hurt again on yesterday’s run but I’m icing, rolling, and going straight to therapy before it gets any worse. Ain’t no one got time for this ~ Adding Mo Miles

#TRAININGPROBLEMS

I sat in my car this morning and realized that there’s a stench of the jungle. I walked into my room and there is workout clothes, both clean and dirty hanging throughout my room. I open my dishwasher and it’s mostly water bottles and shakers. Not only training for an Ironman, but training period comes with some interesting life changing #fitpeopleproblems you just have to learn to accept. There’s no point in fighting it, it just increases frustration. It’s not only #fitpeopleproblems, it’s #triathleteproblems, #cyclistproblems, #fitgirlproblems, #runnersproblems, you name it…fit people got 99 problems and sometimes a bitch is one. (#haters)

#trainingproblems – your beach towels become towels to cover your car seat from your dripping sweat. God forbid you forget one, cause the next time you sit in the chair, it’s still wet.

#trainingproblems – 80% of your laundry pile is workout clothes. I know those that workout regularly have enough to last like 2-3 weeks but I don’t recommend waiting more than a week cause a nice little stench starts to creep out of your hamper.

#cyclingproblems – I can get up, go out, and ride for hours. But the thought of getting out of bed for the indoor trainer is just too much to bare.

#runnerproblems – No those aren’t calluses on my feet, those are blisters that got blisters on them…and yes I must smear Vaseline all over my feet.

#fitgirlsproblems – I may have calluses on my hands sometimes cause a girls gotta get her lifting in.

#cyclistproblems – Finding a clean and decent way to blow your nose on the bike. Snot rockets may work for men, but they aren’t exactly attractive for a lady. But to be honest, by hour 4, you could care less about being a lady.

#trainingproblems – I have shoes for long runs, races, short runs, cross training, leg day. Yes I need that many running shoes.

#triathleteproblems – I have 5 different colors. I have tan lines from my cycling jersey, my tri top, my racer back, cycling shorts (they all have different lengths), my gloves, my socks, and even my Road ID bracelet. I am a zebra of tan lines. They’re my racing stripes and on most days I wear them with pride.

#trainingproblems – Supplements and recovery. I may need to start selling myself on a street corner to afford recovery, glutamine, whey, powdered substances, electrolytes and my eating habits in general. I spent years avoiding salt, now I am paying for salt filled pills. Ironic.

#cyclingproblems – #dead after a 5 hour ride and your just staring at your filthy bike hoping it somehow cleans itself. Common telepathy.

#trainingproblems – Always assume I’m sore and/or tired.

#triathleteproblems – Compression socks are sexy, don’t try to change our minds.

#fitgirlproblems – I swim, bike, run, and strength train… no, I can’t change my schedule cause you want me to go to dinner at 10pm, meet for coffee during the time you know I go for a run, or talk until 1am cause my alarm is set for 5:20am.

#cyclingproblems – Putting all the gunk on your junk only to open the door and realize it’s pouring rain #fail.

#cyclingproblems – When someone in a meeting points out your chain ring tattoo from your morning ride. Yes I showered but I was running to get to this ridiculous meeting on time and didn’t notice it. It requires serious scrubbing…you wouldn’t understand non cycling mortal.

#fitpeopleproblems – No I don’t want a cupcake, no really I don’t want the cupcake, no I’m not on a diet I just don’t want the cupcake. Would you leave me the hell alone I don’t want your stupid cupcake!!!! Secretly, I want to dive face first into the delicious, icing of the cupcake.

I’m about that life. ~ Adding Mo Miles

What If

So I got a question the other day, “what if you can’t finish the Ironman?” The first thought in my head was, thanks for the vote of confidence guy.  My second thought, not possible. My third thought, I’ve asked myself that a few times.  My fourth, I sign up for another one and another one and another one until I do. So my inner badass would say it is not an option, not finishing is not possible. I will make it to that finish line crawling if necessary. But I also have to face the reality that it is a possibility. It’s a long, hot race and many things can go wrong.

So hypothetically speaking (cause it won’t happen), what if? There will be tears (a lot), disappointment, and a whole lot of anger. There will also be a new found determination because you could bet your ass I will be researching the next Ironman to sign up for from my hotel that night. But I also look at what preparing for this race has given me, regardless of whether I cross the finish line. It’s given me confidence as an athlete, in my ability to push thru in moments where I would have usually stopped, given up. It’s given me back something I lost for the sport. It came to a point last year where I wanted to sell my bike and I just wasn’t enjoying it. Lately, I’m tracking my workouts, preparing to really start using my power meter, uploading my Garmin info (yes that’s a huge step) and really itching to sign up for a race. Preparing for this race is helping me through other aspects of my life, some difficult moments. So the constant support I receive in my training is a support for other things also. Kind of weird how that works, people don’t really know how far their support goes for an athlete. So if anything, the experience of preparing for this race is something I can look back on fondly. It has been great so far and I know it will continue.  So if the race doesn’t go as planned, I have to look at what I gained to get there…and the fact that I got to eat a lot more without feeling guilty. 🙂

All I can do is prepare and train.  I like to think I’m training smart, building, and getting stronger. Whatever happens on race day happens on race day but I know I am going ready. But I will tell you this, they’ll have to drag me out on a stretcher before I get off that course. I will cross Ironman off my bucket list. ~ Adding Mo Miles

 

 

Ponle Cabeza

So I am currently a little beat up. Muscles hurt, legs heavy, swollen, sleep walking and I’m starting to discover bruises where I never thought I could bruise. None other than the result All4Cycling Camp. This weekend we packed up our kits, helmets, bonk breakers, some chamois cream and caravanned our way up to Clermont, FL. It’s the only place in Florida where we have rolling hills, the fun street of Buckhill, and the infamous (now conquered) Sugarloaf Mountain. We left Thursday night and came back Sunday. Yes, we took a vacation day to go suffer. We have issues like that. I’ve been to Clermont before, I’ve strolled thru Buckhill once and made my way up Sugarloaf but this time was different. This was a trip with 15 hours of scheduled riding. I’m not going to lie, I was downright scared. Not only that, but I was heading up with what I like to call seasoned riders and some seriously strong cyclist.

Let me introduce you to Sugarloaf:

Day one I kept up for a good amount until we hit about three hours and then people kind of started to get smaller and smaller as I fell back. I was a little proud that I wasn’t the first on the van but I did end up there about 3 miles away from the hotel. I was angry, frustrated and just broke, for the last few miles every turn was a climb, I just felt like I had nothing else left. Who put the hotel on the top of a hill? I’m sure this was on purpose. I realized after this ride how grueling the course is going to be. As I shampooed the hours of sweat out of my hair, I genuinely started to worry about the race. Regardless of how disappointed I was in myself for getting on the van, I got great encouragement for what I was able to do. I would not get frustrated with myself the next day (I did).

I started Day 2 with the goal of riding longer than I did the day before, 5 hours. But it was the ride I realized exactly what I can do and how much I can push myself. It wasn’t all about the time and distance but the amount of support I received this ride, it’s beyond words. Pulling while going up two hills and hearing a group of 16 people or so root you on to make sure you made it all the way to the top. To have someone coaching you thru the climbs, pushing you (literally someone pushed me up the last climbs), telling you it’s mental (ponle cabeza became the theme), how proud they were to see you fight thru the pain, to hear them calling your name up ahead to make sure you get there, and just have a group who wanted to see you make it thru the end of the ride as much as you did.  Regardless of my attitude, I got a little cranky and boy did I bitch, they were pushing me. They know what I’m capable of more than I do most of the time. For those that were there reading this, thank you…thank you for everything.

 

Unfortunately by the third day I couldn’t handle the saddle, there wasn’t enough A&D in the world, but I got dressed and rode as long as I could. I finished the weekend with almost 13 hours and about 200 miles of cycling (gotta check the Garmin). Never in my life did I think I was capable of that. The weekend was full of laughs (ab workouts), pain, sweat, wind, rain, hills on hills on hills, adventures, good food and better friends. It was grueling, it was mentally challenging, but if anything I left Clermont a stronger athlete and ready to keep training. ~ Adding Mo Miles

Rollercoaster

I love food.  Foods covered in melted cheese, giant desserts dripping in chocolate sauce, and big plates of arroz con frijoles.  All accompanied by an ice cold beer.  I’m not ashamed to admit it.  So it’s no surprise that sticking to a clean diet is difficult for me, for most actually.  I’m in a constant battle between food and not wanting to gain weight.  By nature, or due to my Hispanic genes, I am not meant to be thin.  There’s not thigh gap here baby!! Just lots to love 🙂  My family is full of thick women and a fair share of overweight members.  So staying at a certain weight and size is difficult and requires an extensive amount of work and dedication for me.  I know I am not alone!  

So when I say I am finally reaching my goal weight people look at me like I’m crazy, cause I’ve been working out for so long.  Well, let me tell you it’s been a rollercoaster for this girl.  In the last 5 years, I’ve been up and down in weight and size.  In my closet you’ll find sizes that range from 4 to 10.  In the last 5 years I have been at my heaviest and I have been to the point where I can almost see an ab.  I unfortunately fall off the wagon, many times.  It could be for many reasons, I get tired, work, lazy, a new relationship, or I just want to “enjoy” life for a while.  All excuses of course, but at the end of the day I regress in my fitness. I give up. I’m not that strong willed and I feel like I have to start over again each time.

For me my fitness journey has been a struggle of highs and serious lows.  It has brought me to tears in frustration when I’m not seeing results of my hard work or when I see that I let my hard work go to waste.  At the end of the day what matters the most is that I get back on the wagon.  It took me years to find what worked for me, clean eating (screw diets!), the occasional indulgence (pizza), and regular exercise of both weights and cardio.  Unfortunately stress and weight loss for me go hand in hand, so I have to make sure I keep my mind healthy as well.  Fitness is hard, frustrating and never ending work………..never ending! Some body parts just don’t want to stop jiggling.  ~ Adding Mo Miles.