Body by Ken

I know I promised this weeks ago, but I was too busy getting RIPPED and in shape for swimsuit season. You'll forgive, right? Right.

So. The first morning of Body by Ken, I woke myself up at 5:10am. Ed woke up also, so I had to take him outside to get his business worked out. For those of you who know me, you know that I am not the friendliest in the mornings. In fact, I'm just generally dissatisfied with the idea of not being asleep. I arrive in plenty of time for the start of my new life. Right.

Basically, let's just imagine a yoga-type studio without air conditioner. That's where I spent a lot of time sweating from my face. I don't typically sweat in the facial area, but for these 4 weeks, I did. We spent some time outdoors, running around a Farm Fresh parking lot, running to the Post Office and back, or running to the beach. I got yelled at plenty of times to "catch Brandi! C'mon, Kelly! Catch Brandi!" Brandi is at least 7 inches taller than myself, all legs... and a sprinter. So I felt like punching Ken in the face a few times. He also yelled at me once because I wasn't punching hard enough/ correctly enough. He came up behind me and started yelling in my ear. I almost peed myself, but decided against it.

Anyway, after two weeks, Ken started letting another trainer in on the deal- David. David is an ex-marine, and he made us do exercises that made my ears sweat. I was driving to work this morning and saw David running. Totally thought about turning the car around to ask if he would train me solo. David talked much less than Ken, so with him, the entire hour was spent working out and getting buff. Ken likes to use a lot more motivational words and high-fives.

You might be wondering a bit of the actual schedule of the week. Mondays were legs, Tuesdays were arms, and Thursdays were boxing. And once a week, there would be a weigh-in. So I'm proud to say that after 12 workout sessions and changing my diet up a bit, I LOST POUNDAGE! 1.1, to be exact. Ugh. Not worth it. Ok, it really was worth it. I just don't want to admit it.

Now, I can't exactly give you away all of Ken's secrets. Let's just say it involves a LOT of crunching, pushing up, and running. Also imagine free weights, stretchy bands, and little orange cones.

But for your viewing pleasure, pictures of Ken and Temarcus. I don't know who Temarcus is, but I like saying his name.

When I was a kid...

I don't remember a TON from my childhood, but it is decidedly a whole heck of a lot more than my brother remembers. He will tell people that his memory has been erased from before the age of 12. I, however, think that is not the case. I'm pretty sure he's got at least these three stored up in his steel trap:

1. An "incident" involving me, his hamster, a bucket, a dead hamster, and tears. He maintains this was an actual occurrence, rather than something he made up. I do not remember this. And I maintain my innocence.

2. Pretty sure he may also remember a certain time when a neighbor kid and the two of us were playing basketball. Things got heated, I got mad, kid may or may not have ended up getting thrown into the bushes. Again, the details of this incident are a bit shady.

3. We used to go to the minor league baseball games in Albuquerque frequently. I remember getting a pack of sixlets from 7-11, and heading on our way to the games. We usually sat in the outfield on the grass, but there were a couple special times when we got real seats. This particular time, we went with Adam's Boyscout troop and sat in seats. Sometime after a few innings, a message posted on the scoreboard of... "HAPPY BIRTHDAY, ADAM WARNER!" or something of the like. He was stoked out of his mind. Really excited.

All that to say... I remember well the Dukes. They were my #1 baseball team. They were the minor league team for the Dodgers when we attended, and superb players were marked by their blue shoes. The ragtags still had red. Anyway, Mom and Dad are in New Mexico these days. And they sent me this t-shirt. It made my day.

also, this.

A year later.

I've been thinking about this post for a while now. I know it's important to process through things and work through them and such, but it's been such a trying year that sometimes I just needed a break. From thinking, from feeling, from myself. I've been at the beach now for about 9 months, and have just started being me again. Weird to say, but I feel it. Things that are so close to my heart got pushed out and pushed away so far from myself, as I was trying to keep from falling apart. I never really understood it when people retreat, or when they say they "fell apart". I get it. I don't feel like I fell apart, necessarily, so much as my life did.

Getting laid off is hard stuff. I never understood how much of one's identity is wrapped up in being employed. I mean, whether or not you like your job is not the question. It's a matter of being able to provide for yourself that is so closely wrapped up in who you are. Especially for myself, being a 28 year old single woman. I have been taught to be strong, independent, hardworking, self-sufficient. I may take those to extremes at times, being hard-headed and unwilling to accept gifts from people. But when you lose the ability to be strong, independent, hardworking and self-sufficient, there's not a whole lot else to go on. People that have never lost jobs, in the back of their minds, think that it's that person's own fault for getting laid off. I know this from experience. It's easy to feel victimized, to feel inadequate, to feel small.

Even harder than getting laid off was learning that Meghan was sick again. When Adam told me, it felt like getting the wind knocked out of me. That's not just an expression. That's a feeling. I remember one night in particular where I woke up because my literal heart was in such pain. I wondered if I was having a heart attack. It took me a solid 30 minutes to calm down, breathe, and pray. I wasn't sure what was happening, but if the Devil came in to my body and was crushing my heart, I wouldn't be surprised. There were so many days where I'd be going about my routine and would just start crying. It blew my mind how many tears could be shed. And how the word "Jesus" was all I could say when praying. He knew what it meant, though.

Even harder still was Meghan passing away. I still have videos that play in my mind of that week. The plane trip, sitting between two strangers and crying. Border crossing and answering the Patrol's questions of why you were going to Canada. The song that played at her funeral- "It is well with my soul." It sure wasn't then. It might be now, but I'm still unsure if I can admit that.

Then, I bailed out of Texas to go to Canada for the summer. Texas was in the process of crushing me under it's weight. I got claustraphobic in the second largest state in the US. Thankfully, I got a job offer while I was up there.

Then the whirlwind started. I drove from Canada to Texas, moved out, Texas to Virginia, moved in- all in about 10 days. It took me about 3 months to unwind just from that and begin to feel settled. And then the work started. There were lots of days where being around my friends made me feel trapped. I'm a different girl than I used to be. I need to be alone- to sit, think, read, run... who knows why that change took place, but it did.

My first week back in Virginia was the first time I had communion in about 7 or so months. And it terrified me. Communion is this beautiful picture of you celebrating what Jesus did for you. How could I do that when I didn't trust His love anymore? I mean, all these things were "taken" from me and I just didn't get it. It didn't make sense. I've done what I'm supposed to do my entire life. Why, then, was I "rewarded" with this year? Coming to the understanding that faith isn't a system of actions and rewards, of checks and balances, of yes' and no's, was something that took a long time to come to grips with. It's not something that we, as humans, are taught by the world. We're used to actions and consequences. I've come to a deeper understanding of Christ's love after this.

I don't understand why Meghan was taken, or why I lost my job, or why last year went the way that it did. I never will. I can't rationalize it. But I do know that Christ is still Love. I know he doesn't cause these things to happen. I also know that when you feel like you can't go on any more, He will somehow give you the strength to wake up another day.

beach bag bum

So I made that purse! Bag! Whatever! And I've taken it to the beach with me every time I've gone. It's so great. It will hold books, snacks, sunscreen & a towel... and juice boxes! Sorry for the poor picture quality- I took it with my phone in haste. But ta-daaa!