Date Night

New twist on date night.  Date night doesn’t have to be dinner & drinks or even at night.  This couple has 5:30 a.m. date training sessions.  Click on the link to get a sneak peek: 

 https://www.facebook.com/denny.ceizyk/videos/724638317690141/

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Couples who plank together stay together.

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Saturday morning date with my hubby 

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Lifting the weight of the world off our shoulders!

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Travel Thursday

Pack your bags! This #TravelThursday I'm excited to share a sneak peek of my "Simpatico by the Sea" retreat with you! What to expect this Jan 24-28:

🌊 5 days / 4 nights at a private beach house

🏃🏽‍♀️💪2 workouts per day modified for all fitness levels utilizing “nature’s gym”

🥦🍠Healthy home-cooked meals prepared & eaten together to jumpstart losing 10lbs in 2 weeks

🚣‍♂️Kayaking and hiking

🧜‍♀️Swimming in the private pool       🧘🏽‍♂️Mindfulness Meditations on the beach                                                    

 https://www.ketangafitness.com/simpatico-by-the-sea-retreat 

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Simpatico by the Sea

 

 

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Big announcement!! No I’m not pregnant, or moving back to Arizona. But, for all of you clients whose dream it’s been to live with me, I’m about to make your dream (or nightmare) come true!  

Are you caring for everyone else at the expense of your own health? Do you need help putting on your own oxygen mask again? Or maybe for the first time ever?  

If you want to recognize the woman in the mirror again, then don’t waste anymore time!! Sign up for the Simpatico by the Sea retreat and show that woman in the mirror that she is worth it!!  

(Link below)  

 https://www.ketangafitness.com/simpatico-by-the-sea-retreat.html

 

Orgasmic

Warning: Sprinting causes orgasms...

This is the first time I heard this from a client but not the last.  Exercise releases endorphins—runners high.  A natural, on top of the world  climax during & after the exercise is over. 

When I was on my 80lb weight loss journey, I would be so amorous after training sessions my husband began to wonder what the hell I was doing with my trainer in those sessions.  

Watch this quick video to see the post sprinting climax this client experienced: 

Resting on Laurels

I remember when I stepped on the scale after three months with my trainer and saw I had lost thirty pounds.  I was ecstatic & flying high.  I walked outta that gym feeling taller, prouder than I had in years.  

I had lost THIRTY fucking pounds in  three months after going years without seeing the scale budge.

 I went to a dinner that night & my beloved bread basket came.  I thought,  ‘I just lost thirty pounds,  I can have a piece.’  Then the waitress asked if I wanted anything to drink.

 I thought for a second, then ordered a wine, I mean after all, deserved to treat myself, right?  I went on to have more bread, more wine leading to more poor decisions that weren’t in line with my goal of still having fifty more pounds to lose.  

My trainer was smart; he had me keep a food journal that he checked every time we met.  This way we could prevent me from going on a bender & waiting until the scale goes up to find out.

 His only rule was honesty.  So I was fucked & not in a good way.  I was going to have to write all this crap I just ingested in that damn food journal.  

I saw him two days later & his eyes got huge.  Then he looked at my 10-year-old-daughter, who was with me at that session & said “Hide your mother’s scale”.  He announced from that point forward, I was not allowed to weigh myself,  & when he weighed me he would not tell me the number.  

He told me I was cocky, resting on the laurels of losing 30lbs, and couldn’t be all loosey goosey with my eating.  I wouldn’t be allowed to use the scale as a partner in my indulgent crimes.

I now employ this with my clients who also rest on their laurels and use the scale as an excuse to go off the eating wagon.  I tell them “If you are cocky about all the weight you’ve lost, then I’m going to hide that damn scale, and only I will know if you’ve lost anything!” 

 

 Click on this video to hear my client who was caught resting on her laurels...

Haters Gonna Hate

People judge you by the way you live your life, so you might as well live it the way YOU want. 

Out of Comfort Zone

Learn to be comfortable being uncomfortable.

Some of my best moments come from stepping out of my comfort zone.  

This one in particular was uncomfortable for many reasons.  I had to learn the art of spinning, get comfortable with cardio, find my rhythm & wow the Soul Cycle judges in a 60 second window. 

Oh & did I mention practicing for this while sorting through & packing up my 3,000 sq foot house to move to a 1,000 sq ft NYC apartment?  

But none of that was as uncomfortable as having to move one week before my husband & daughter so that I could be there for the Soul Cycle audition.    

I missed out on saying good bye with my daughter to the house she’d grown up in the last 15 years.  

Missed out on walking through the empty house remembering the princess birthday parties, the the Thanksgiving dinners, the leisurely pancake breakfasts with Elliana playing guitar in the background, and making s’mores in the backyard.  

Missed out on watching the house get smaller in the rear view mirror as the Penske truck pulled away from the only life she’d ever known. 

So why did I choose the Soul Cycle audition over all that?  Because my daughter said “Mom,  if you don’t go you will always wonder, what if??!!”.  

Belly of the Beast

The day I beat my “heroin” addiction...

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On This Day One Year Ago...

Every morning since we moved to NYC from Arizona feels like I’m Nicolas Cage in the movie “Family Man”.  Nothing is familiar even after 10 months of living here.  

I wake up in a queen size bed, horns & sirens blaring outside that my noisy window a/c unit can’t even drown out.

 I wait for my teen daughter to be done in our one bathroom before I can even pee.  I go out to our dining room/living room/office to my hubby talking loud on a biz call and cook in a hot kitchen with no a/c toppling everything over in the cramped space.

My dog has to go outside which means I have to put on a bra, shoes & actual clothes since I train clients in my building who I run Into.  I wait forever for her to pee since she still isn’t used to relieving herself publicly on the sidewalk.  

No one is familiar even after 10 months.  I see clients & think “You are very nice but where are all my Az BAMs?” I facetime my Az clients & hate the barrier of the phone between us wishing I could walk thru my Apple iPhone portal to give them a hug.

I somehow got myself elected as PA President of Beacon High school.  I run board meetings hearing all the demands & think  “Who are you people & what do you want from me?”  

The one familiar person I knew here who actually wanted me to come here has declared “I am dead” to him.  He’s correct: the Az Lis is dead.  

NYC Lis has been resurrected in her place.  Even though that friendship turned out to be toxic I still miss him.  He was the only familiar person besides my family here.  

There are times I feel so homesick for my former life, my tribe, that it physically hurts.  I long for our small tight knit catholic school community who prayed for us & openly talked about God.  I don’t hear the “G” word mentioned much & get the feeling it’s a taboo subject here.  

I get into my via carpool service enduring smells & conversations I do not wish to have.  I endure the subway & all its cattle car qualities complete with a myriad of distinct odors  

I lug my laundry down to the basement hoping there is an open washer & dryer. There are times when I just break down & sob telling my family let’s go back home.  Everything in NYC is harder, takes longer, is a fight.  

Yet...I have no regrets.  

As difficult as it is here, it would be much more difficult sittting in my 3,000 sq ft house with 5 bedrooms, 3 bathrooms, letting my dog out to relieve herself in her spacious backyard complete with a pool, my central a/c,  a kitchen the size of my entire nyc apt, driving my car around enjoying the solitude & lovely fresh new car scent, doing laundry in my own washing machine, waking up in my king size bed & lingering in my private jacuzzi tub. 

The trade off of seeing all my familiar, loving people and keeping all the comforts of my former life would have been the nagging question that we would have been asking every day:  “What would have happened if we had said yes to Beacon High school & moved to NYC?”

I’d be disappointed in myself that I chose to stay comfortable, that I chose convenience over challenge, that I chose to not grow.

So yes it’s fucking hard since I moved here but not nearly as hard as the regrets I’d have if we hadn’t moved. 

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What’s Harder?

“But it’s so hard to get up early & workout” 

”But it’s so hard to pass up the wine” 

”But it’s so hard to make time to exercise” 

”But it’s so hard to____” 

I could go on & on.  But I’d rather ask you this “Is whatever you say is hard about getting fit & healthy harder than waking up everyday hating the way you look in pictures?  Harder than having no energy?  Harder than the way you feel inside?   Harder than none of your clothes fitting?  Harder than avoiding social events because of the way you look?  Harder than being the heaviest person in the room?  Harder than having sex with the lights on or at all?  Harder than having your life shortened by high blood pressure, diabetes & heart disease? 

For me exercising is hard.  Eating healthy is hard.  But not as hard as when I hated myself for weighing 226lbs. 

Time to stop hating.  Time to get the outside your inside always wanted.  Time to love yourself.  You are worth it.