Keep moving foreward!- including pics

If you haven’t seen “Meet the Robinsons” stop reading and go watch it. It’s a feel good movie that takes you from feeling like a failure to feeling like every bad move you’ve made you’ve done on purpose. No more squashed confidence! It’s kind of like “winning” with Charlie Sheen. What you see as a failure now is just a step towards where you’re supposed to be… or great advertising for a future reality show where you’re the butt of every joke.

I told you guys a few blogs back that my Hustle instructor had let me lead the warmup in class.

The first time I had that tooth infection and the Childcare line made me late… but I still did it.

Then she let me do it again. I had a tooth infection from the tooth extraction and was on medication, BUT I WAS STILL GOING! This time I had practiced cuing (letting people know the next move coming up a second before we do it, not a pool move). I was ready. I was excited!… no one could hear me over the music. BUT that time I had actually made eye contact with everyone, stayed with the moves, people watched my hand signals and knew what to do. It was great.

Yesterday was our last Hustle together. My instructor is going on maternity leave. I didn’t even ask her about the warmup because I figured she’d want to do it or someone else would want a turn at it. Nope. She let me do it again. I WAS PUMPED! Like my adrenaline was literally swelling up my head. The last time had gone so well, this one would be EPIC. It was like the whole room had given me their energy…. and then I bombed it. Yah I did. I did the walk up and forgot the walk out so when I tried to make up for it the next time everyone didn’t know there would be a walk out. I stayed with the tempo and it was ok but my adrenaline had turned to “oops, I screwed up.” Ughhhhh. But then, THEN, my shirt got caught on my bracelet on one move and my tummy was exposed. That threw me off again and I forgot the single double hops (just pretend you know what I’m talking about). But I didn’t give up. We still kept moving, we still kept dancing, I still stayed with the pace, and we picked up from where we were supposed to be. If you were watching the class you wouldn’t know anything wrong happened, but when you go to that class all the time, you know when the instructor screws up.

Here’s the difference between my flub this time and from the first time- confidence. I had it. I knew they would forgive me for it. So I screwed up. Laugh about it and move on. Crap, I screwed up again. They’re still smiling so am I. And how did I know they were smiling? I didn’t have to force myself to look at them this time. I wasn’t shy about it. These were my friends. They were here to have fun. As an instructor, that’s what they would be to me also.

When I finished I was getting high fives and smiles and congrats. It was great. But after the class is when the comments came. People were telling me they had more fun with me that time than the last two times because you could tell I had loosened up and just had fun with it.

So how does this all tie in together with the Robinsons? NO I’M NOT JUST BABBLING ABOUT RANDOM CRAP. Haters.

Keep moving foreward. Be willing to make mistakes and learn from them. Accept them like a piece of pie. Bake it, eat it, then work it off.

Now I know what it’s like to do a major mistake as an instructor and just keep going on with the class. Now I know that if I can keep positive, so will the class. Honestly, I have no fear about auditioning now. IF I screw up, I know I won’t run crying from the classroom or loose all the info I had pounded into my head. It would be ok. I know I need to find a Hustle that I really feel comfortable auditioning with and make it like my new child. But I feel like I just climbed over a horizontal ledge in climbing the life mountain (apparently that’s a really hard edge.)

AND NOW!!!!! FOR THE PICTURE MONTAGE!!!!!!

Danyelle and I. She is a fellow instructor. I really got to know her at my instructor training. She had to move a little further from our regular gym so I don’t get to see her much but when we do get to catch up it’s like we just saw eacho ther the day before.

Becca!!!! Yes, another instructor. When you first see her she looks like a school teacher/mom/quiet bystander. But when you put her on the dance floor she’s like the queen of the dance crew. She’s amaaaaazing! I’ve really enjoyed Hustle with her.

Elisabeth is pretty much my connection to everything Hustle. I met her in my first class and she and I talked for at least an hour afterwards. We really quickly became great friends. Then she introduced me to everyone else and I became part of the family. There’s no way you can’t smile around her.

AJ!!!! My partner in crime. He laughs about life just as much as I do. He’s the king of the one liners. And he’s insanely smart to be one of the only guys in a class full of girls. I swear he’s never going to get past the age of 25. You can’t be normal around him. He brings out the goofy in everyone.

Delia is my sister. Not biological but blood really doesn’t mean a lot when it comes to who your family is. When I feel down about my dancing, she’s the first to tell me I need to grow up and accept that I’m doing what I love. It’s tough love but in a very “I love you enough to not ever let you give up” way. She’s also one of the best dancers I’ve ever seen. She would fit better with a dance crew than a dance class. I may have to cry for days after saying goodbye to her.

And last but not least

THE CREW! (minus a few) The hottie in the middle with the black shirt over a pink shirt is our instructor Amanda. We don’t talk very often, outside of class, but she’s definitely a leader to me. She finds confidence in people that they never knew they had. We may look like a regular groupX class but we’re a family. We know each others kids. We know each others battles. They are a never ending fill of self importance. You can’t be down around them.

When I’m an instructor, I’m going to have a class like this. They’re going to be so excited to see each other each week that they miss the beginning of class to catch up. They’re going to show up on busy days just because it’s something they look forward to every day. They’re going to be excited all class to tell me they lost a few pounds at the end. It will be important to them that I meet their friends so and so. I will take a person who thought they were just coming to a dance class and turn her into a front row diva. And someday someone will come up to me and say thank you for helping me get my life back. Why? Because that’s what God put me here for. He will let people know my struggle so that they know they have someone to turn to. That’s my light. Yesterday just proved it to me.

Thank you Sunday Hustle! I will never forget any of you. Even in Oregon, my heart will be in a groupX room in Keller, TX every Sunday. I love you all! God bless you on your future adventures. AND KEEP DANCING!

Dealing with plantar fasciitis

ITS BAAAAAAAAAAAACK. My plantar fasciitis went away for a while after that lady at the salon showed me a trick with it. But I didn’t keep up with the massage exercise she told me to do and I was working out without icing it so now it’s back… with a vengeance.

What is it?

There’s a muscle that connects the heel of your foot to the front pad of your foot. When it gets over inflamed it hurts like absolute hell. Your heel will feel like one huge bruise, while it’s inflamed or once it’s settled after a workout it will do these painful spasms like someone is shocking it, and when you wake up you’ll have so much pain in it on the initial step that you’ll learn to put stuff in your room to lean on so you can tip toe through your house until the pain starts to go away.

When is it the worst?

You would think during a workout, but not really. The more you work the muscle, the more it loosens up, and the pain starts to go away. When you rest it is when it gets all cranky and hurts. That’s why it hurts so much when you first wake up. And if you have to stand for a while without really walking a lot it will do these painful spasm things because it’s tight and full of blood (from circulation, no you’re not hemorrhaging).

Here’s the good part.

How do you make it not hurt?

• The sucky part of this is that you actually should see a doctor for this. Plantar fasciitis can cause heel spurs. That’s where calcium builds up in the middle bottom of your heel to make a new pad so your foot can heel. But if you’re not helping this calcium pad, it can make the situation worse. So your doctor needs to know if you have a heel spur which requires xrays. If you have one, plan on getting a cortisone shot. They tend to give them out like candy because they would rather give you an anti inflammatory than a pain killer. I’m so anti-meds my doctor had to continuously push me towards the shot. AND THEN MY BODY REJECTED IT. Yah. Sucks to be me.
• The anti inflammatory will be your best friend. The pain from this comes from the muscle being swollen. This will loosen it up AND will help it heal faster.
• Ice (roll your foot over a frozen water bottle) after standing for more than 30-40 minutes. Especially if you’ve been running and jumping in a workout.
• Wear a heel brace when you sleep. This keeps the muscle completely flexed. It will really help with healing AND will keep you from feeling the stabbing pain of death when you try to walk on your foot after you wake up. It’s great for married women too. Extremely sexy. Just kidding. Tell your wife you love her anyways.
• Cut back on the workouts for a little while.  Try doing things where you don’t have to run and jump and can put most of your weight on the front of your foot (so no free weights). This needs time to heel or you’re going to have the issue of it being a constant problem like I have it.
• KT tape or sports tape. They have videos online for how to put the KT tape (kttape.com) on but I have yet to find a good way to wrap it with sports tape so if I have to use it, I do it the same way I would with the kt tape. And don’t listen to them when they say it will stay on for days. So if money is an issue with you, use the sports tape.
• Heel stretches- Watch this doctor. He’s smart.
• Pick up things with your toes. Like marbles. Think of it as a party trick. Moving your foot around like this is an easy way to stretch out the muscle while watching tv or doing homework or reading my blogs.
• Shoes- Get a heel insert and put an arch and heel support in over it. Wear high heels when you can. I don’t do this. Me and gravity have issues with each other. BUT its a good excuse for you to get a new pair of shoes. Toss out the sandals for a while. Flip flops don’t give you enough support or padding. Yah, made me want to cry too.
• AND THE MOST IMPORTANT- Do this at least once a day. Enjoy the guys accent. You’re welcome. This is what got mine to go away for a few weeks. It’s not fully the same as what the lady at the salon did to my foot but it’s the closest I can find to it.

There you go. There’s my rules for plantar fasciitis. But I have one thing to add. You’re injured, act like it. If you need to take time off work, time away from the gym, time away from your friends, whatever you need to do, do it. This is your body. It is the greatest gift ever given to you. Take care of it. If you don’t take care of these things right away they get worse and you increase your chances of it being a continuous issue with your body. Pain when walking isn’t something you should just have to get used to.

Puking is optional

Something really really important is coming up.

You get told you can do it, you’re anxious about it, you don’t know if you should hop around from excitement or rip your hair out from just wanting to do it already. You spend 2 weeks practicing and trying to perfect it because you want it to be AWESOME!

It doesn’t matter how terrifying it will be, YOU’RE GOING TO DO IT! No backing out, no excuses, you’re going to get over your fears and just do it.

And then life glues your feet to the ground…

It’s annoying!

I was told two weeks ago that I was going to lead the warmup in my Hustle class yesterday. It wasn’t going to be me in the front row and whoop whooping. It wasn’t going to be me in a class split leading my side. It wasn’t going to be me showing everyone how to do the kick ball change while the instructor shows the modified.

It WAS going to be me doing the cues, making up the moves, leading the entire class. It was just for one song, but that’s HUGE. I can’t even do that with my dog watching. My kids are the only ones who have practiced with me and I can’t keep their attention for more than five minutes. I was pretty sure it was going to be an epic fail but I was going to do it anyways.

You’re going to have to skip to the end to see how my warmup went because I talk a lot and I’m still talking.

So how did life glue my feet to the ground?

I had two weeks to come up with something and practice. Between helping my son with his talent contest, work, being a mom, my other hip hop class moves, and a staph infection all over my face, practicing the first week didn’t happen.

I finally started on something the Thurs before I was supposed to lead the warmup and it seemed to be a good choreo. Then I practiced on Friday and it was all wrong. Saturday I woke up determined to learn it and I think I made a really good warmup. I tried to make it fun and I’m pretty sure I accomplished that. Then I learned the Hustle that goes with it so I would be prepared if my fantasy of Amanda saying “Hey, Laura, why don’t you go ahead and teach block 3”. It’s not going to happen but don’t tell my little story making head that it shouldn’t get its hopes up.

This is where life kicks in a ton. Saturday night I have to work from 9:30 at night till 6 in the morning. I planned on going home, sleeping from 6 till 10:30, practice my warmup one more time, and then head to the gym and do it. But my mouth had a different idea. I have a tooth with an exposed nerve. It’s been that way for 3 years. Of all the nights, it picks this one to get infected. I was in so much pain the whole entire time I was at work that I was a bleeeeeeeeeeeeeep to anyone who even came near me.I figured the pain would go away like it always does, but this time it just kept getting worse.

At 5:00 I took 3 Ibuprofen (yes I know you’re only supposed to have 1). At 6 my pain is finally to the point that I think I could sleep.

Sleep from 6:15 to 8:30. Wake up just wanting to cry from pain. My cheek was swollen. I HAD to see a doctor.

I go to the nearest clinic and have them check it out. Turns out my jaw was completely infected. Got a penicillin shot and a prescription for pain killers. It’s now 9:30, there’s no point in going back to bed. We get my prescription and I take the kids out for breakfast. I was about to message Amanda and tell her I couldn’t instruct, but then the pain killer set in.

I had 40 minutes to get to the gym (its a 30 min drive because of construction). I made it there in exactly 30 minutes. 10 minutes should be enough time to get the kids into the childcare right? WRONG. The class before Hustle is always packed and those moms stand around talking when they leave the class so of course childcare was full. There were 2 people ahead of me with kids. 1 minute before class was supposed to start they are about to let us in to childcare. But I still had to two families ahead of me. There was no way I was going to make it.

So I did something I never do. I was rude. I explained that I was supposed to be instructing a warmup at that time and asked if they would let me go ahead of them. The guy in front of me (found out he’s my friends husband later) was ok with it. But the lady right behind him was pissed I would even ask. So I knew I blew it. I knew there was no chance I was going to get to do it. Game over, go home.

I put the kids in childcare anyways, scuffed my feet to the class after noticing they were passed the warmup and already to the dance part, and walked in all Sad Panda faced.

Life had glued me for too long.

Then an angel appeared. Her name is Amanda. It’s her Hustle class. She had done something you would NEVER see an instructor do. She held the warmup so that I could still do it and was very understanding about it. This is her job. You’re not supposed to do that, and she still did it. Why? Because unlike the mean lady in the line, Amanda knew this was huge for me.

She called me up to the front. Started the music. And I was on.

I WAS DEAD ON. I stayed with the 8 counts, I made it fun, I didn’t throw up, I didn’t freeze. I did it!!!!

I looked at the floor for the most of it and didn’t call the cue’s early enough but the class kept up and I had a blast. I didn’t think I could do this. It was amazing! Now I know I can do this. I know I can lead a class EVEN DOPED UP ON HYDROCODONE!. And it’s all because someone gave me the opportunity to try.

So where do I go from here? I’m going to continue practicing. I’m going to practice on stuffed animals and work on my cues. I’m going to practice on my friends and make sure I look them in the eyes.

I plan on using a group x room at one of the gyms and holding my own class (I won’t get paid for it, it’s just for fun) and inviting my friends to do this once a week. I’m also going to invite other new instructors and give them blocks to help me instruct.

I CAN DO THIS!

I will be an instructor. It’s not a fairytale. I WILL do it.

Thank you Amanda! This gave me the confidence I needed.

INSTRUCTING HERE I COME!

The courageous Cole!

That’s me and my son Cole (age 9) yesterday at his tryouts for the talent show at his school. He’s red faced because he just danced. I’m red faced because I have a staph infection on my face. THANK GOD FOR THAT EXCUSE. Normally it’s just he’s being shy and I have adult acne. But this picture is epic because we can get away with red faces.

Cole did something I don’t think I could ever do. He walked into an audition pretty much unprepared. What was his talent? Freestyle dance. What did mom try to make it? A choreo’d dance. Who was right? The kid was.

I admit it, I was wrong. I was so worried that he’d go in there and freeze that I spent about a week and a half making choreo on three different songs because he kept changing his mind on what he wanted to dance to. Then I made him practice when he just wanted to go outside and play. Glare at me. You should. I was a butt. I was nice to him about it but that was wrong of me and I admit it so me being nice in this really doesn’t fix it.

Since I started dancing, Cole has really gotten into it. He practices with me when I learn my Hustles. He asks if we could play dance central together. At first I thought that was his way of bonding with me. It took me a while but I finally realized that Cole just loves what music does to him. Are his dances a little chaotic? Little is not the right word choice in that. More like a ton chaotic. He’s just now grasping tempos. So he’s not the greatest of dancers. What makes Cole a good dancer is that he is not afraid to just do his own thing. Can he do a head spin? No. Does he fake it till he makes it? YEP! His little dances will get you motivated to do your own.

So what made me think he needed choreo when he’s entertaining just doing his own thing? Because I’m so hard on myself to be perfect that I don’t want someone looking down on my son for his imperfections. He’s insecure. He always has been. I don’t know if it’s the way I talk negatively about myself of just society today. He doesn’t like to be in front of people without a shirt. He thinks he’s fat when he’s skinny. He tries so hard to be part of conversations to fit in that he tends to get himself in trouble. He tries to take charge and be a leader if it will win people over for him. He wants so bad to be cool and popular that it breaks my heart. I probably (definitely) baby Cole more than my other son because I know what it’s like to feel invisible outside of your own house. So I wanted this talent show to go perfect for him. I wanted him to be that kid up on stage that finishes and looks up to crowd standing and clapping and cheering and screaming for him. He works so hard for it, why shouldn’t he be able to get that moment.

But I can’t run his life to make sure he gets that. I need to let go. I’m pretty sure the words “let go” are considered cussing in a mom’s vocabulary.

We ended up having a basic choreo for the verse parts of the song so that he knew what to fall on if his brain froze. Then he had his own specific dances he wanted to do for the chorus (shuffling mixed with kick boxing mixed with b boy work mixed with zumba is the only way I can describe it). What tripped him up in the auditions? The parts we did choreo for. What parts did they hollar and yell and cheer for? His freestyle.

My kids teach me something new every day. I know it’s my job to raise them. But I find more and more that my kids are showing me how to live a better life. Sometime we can’t plan everything to be perfect. Maybe we won’t get the headspin, but we tried our best. Maybe it wasn’t the best dance, but we had a blast doing it. No matter how much we plan, we’re going to screw up. It’s life. But our proudest moments are when we just give in and do it and stop worrying about it.

We find out today if he got into the talent show or not. No matter what happens, this mama is one proud bear.

I pray that someday my son will see the true treasure that he is, that these insecurities will not overwhelm him, and that the confidence he had yesterday shines through. He is more than worthy of all the popularity he’s wanting. He’s better than the people who’s attention he’s begging for. He’s a pretty epic kid. He and Jonathan amaze me every day.

Our kids are the true heroes in our lives.

UPDATE: Cole did a great job at the talent show. You can see his dance here. http://www.facebook.com/v/10150903847067856

Growing up with a dance demon is hard

When I was little I took this class called “Jazz”. It was not hip hop or cardio dance party, it was Jazz. Jazz pretty much means “It’s a little hip hop, it’s a little show, it’s a little cowgirl, it’s a little of everything.” Almost like dance threw up into one class. AND I LOVED IT! I had pink bike shorts with a white leotard OVER it. Yah, that’s right, I jazzercized all across that stage. I can still tell you how to camelwalk and Rodger Rabbit. There was something about dance that I loved.

But for a fat kid, that was a lot of work. Volleyball was much easier. And hanging out with my friends was even easier than that as I got older. Dance just kind of went to the back burner.

Fast forward to my senior year in high school. AJ Hoenigman (Yah, I can spell that) somehow wins my heart and talks me into going to a rave. Don’t gasp at me, I’m not the go get wasted on E kind. I was curious. What happened? I was hooked. The music was great, you could dance like an idiot and get away with it, and for 4 straight hours I was complimented on how I danced. I was complimented by strangers. That’s huge for me. All I knew was that I was moving to the music. Even my “Molly Ringwald in the Library” dance was considered genius. You can imagine that all went to my head and raving became my world. Unfortunately so did drinking and hanging out with idiots and I pretty much grounded myself for life. Parenting, my parents did it right.

Wasn’t that a nice little story? Yah, I figured you’d like it. Anyways, what I wanted to get across to you was that dance does something for my confidence. It’s pretty apparent that I’m extremely insecure. Spending most of your life feeling obese, balance challenged, and ugly will give you a kick ass sense of humor but a really bad self esteem issue. So when I dance it’s like I can see what others see.

I kind of fell into Hustle. I started with Zumba, had fun. Went to a cardio dance party class, liked it. Then went to another dance cardio class that was actually a HUSTLE class and loooooooooooved it. That inner confidence was there again. I was able to learn the moves and dance with everyone at the end with no fear. I forgot the rest of the class was even there. That was heaven for me. And this was when I was still 275 lbs. Again, after class, I was immediately praised on my dance style.

Taking instructor training was a no brainer for me. I knew I wanted to start working in the fitness industry and that subbing as an instructor would be a fun way to bring in a little extra cash to start going back to school for nutrition.

What stopped me? I was dancing, a friend was saying they couldn’t wait to take one of my classes if I ever got hired, and the lady behind us says to her friend “I don’t think I could take someone’s class if they were bigger than I am.” Have you ever been punched in the back of the head, kicked in the shin, and then had your heart brutally ripped out, followed by someone spitting on you? Yah, that’s pretty much what it felt like.

So I didn’t put in my application to the gym, I stopped working on Phat Girl Hustle, I tried to push it from my brain. I was going to wait until I lost more weight (had lost 80 by then) and then think about it again. In my head, she was right. Who would take a class instructed by someone who still needed to lose 50 lbs?

Then I really become friends with a lady named Delia. She’s a real life person but when times get hard she’s also the angel that sits on my shoulder and screems “Hell yah!” when I need a confidence boost in dance. She tells me how much she loves that I make the moves my own. I may not look like a perfect dancer but she can tell I really feel the music and put my heart into it. Hustle isn’t really hip hop (don’t ever tell Chalene I said that) but I’m a firm believer that you can even take a ballet piece and add the dirty to it. And Delia sees that with me.

She invited me to a hip hop class that was a blessing to me. It showed me what I lacked, that I’m not an over average dancer. It showed me that I will never be on America’s Best Dance Crew or in music videos. AND THAT’S OK. Because I don’t dance to be great. I dance because I love it. I can’t pop and lock. Who cares? That’s not the class I want to teach. It gives me ideas and it builds me so that I can make Hustle my own and reach out to someone else like me.

So I have my confidence back? Nope. In a few months we’re moving to Oregon. I had it in my head that I would be quitting the post office and getting into the fitness industry. We started making these plans in Feb. and I was playing fantasy in my head that we could survive off Josh’s paycheck and the tiny income I would get from working at a gym and maaaaayyybe instructing. But reality has set in. We really can’t afford for me to not be sure I can make a living off this.

I can do the Hustle moves and put a little swagger to them. Does that make me a great dancer? HELL NO! I really can’t do anything better than club dancing and putting a little grime to cheerleader pop hop. Other than “Jazz” I’ve really had no instruction. Not even ballet. Do you know what it’s like to be a white girl who couldn’t tell you what a plie is? (Had to look up how to spell that.)

Then I go to this hip hop class lately and it’s becoming a curse. I feel like I’m being judged through the whole class. I stopped going for a few weeks but every dance class became that. I’ve lost my confidence with dance.

We can say that lady at the gym who said I was still too fat was wrong. We can say I should get over it. But the fact is, I’m going to hear that a lot. If I can’t get over it now, what’s going to make me get over it later. What if someone says it in the middle of a class and I freeze? You can’t tell a crazy person not to be crazy and you can’t tell me just to get over it. And who really wants an instructor who can’t take it to the next level? This is where my head is at right now. I miss Hustle just being fun.

Would I make a great instructor? Without a doubt.

Can I make it as an instructor? The answer to that is frustrating me.

to be an instructor by kwehkweh

Did you know it’s the year of the Lisa?

I have a friend. Believe it or not, people actually like me. But this friend is a very special friend. You have your friends of “Oh hey, lets go act like 5 year olds together.” and then you have your friendships of “If I had not met you, something big would be missing.”

Lisa is a friend that puts that little extra something special into my life. We can go for months without talking and then feel like we haven’t missed a beat when we get together.

She also understands me on a level that is the very dead center of my insecurities. Just like me, she knows the full reality of her weight holding her back and how jacked up it is that the physical is somehow worshiped on a higher level than the mental.

We had a conversation over froyo (she had water, I had froyo, don’t hate) a while back where I exclaimed that last year was the year of the Laura and this year was the year of the Lisa. We made plans, I said I would help her, I said I would fight with her… and then we didn’t talk for a few weeks.

Then she did something I didn’t think she would do again because it didn’t go so well last time: She joined the gym. And not just any gym. She joined the same chain that I’m part of. That means we can workout together whenever we want. Yet it still took weeks for us to get together.

But you know why all of my failure on my side of the friendship is ok? BECAUSE I TOOK HER TO HER FIRST ZUMBA! Yah, that’s right, me. I introduced her to the fancy pants dance party we call groupX booty shakin. It’s not Hip Hop but it’s booty shaking flirty giggle worthy calorie burning addiction. It’s like the one level down from hip hop. And she enjoyed every second of it.

The class we went to was the most crowded I have ever seen a zumba class get. Every time we bent over, my face was practically in the buttcrack of the person in front of me. That’s normally not the class you take a newbie to. But she did an amazing job. She’s a wonderful dancer. Where most people would have walked out, she laughed.

I didn’t get to take a picture with her like I would have after the class because I had to rush off to get the boys and go to work. Sad panda, I know. I’ll get one next time. But here’s a picture of her that I’m posting without asking because I’m a jerky friend sometimes.

I hope you all see that face now because I see it in her that she’s ready to get healthy. She’s beautiful on the outside. OmGoodness she’s so beautiful. But then you talk to her and you find yourself wishing you had more time with her. So just think of how blown away we’ll be when she’s showing the rest of the world what they missed out on when they were worried about pant size.

I love you Lisa. You remind me why I want to be a personal trainer. You show me that there are women out there who are ready to blow the world away and that I can be along for the ride and front row at the explosion. You show me a smile when you miss a step because you know you still had fun doing it. You show me a dancer people didn’t know was there. You show me determination in the middle of naysayers. You show me a person worthy of a longer and happier life. Thank you for taking me with you to zumba yesterday.

Are we ready for the year of the Lisa? I AM!!!!