Share the Love: The Dailey Method {3/3}

I'm constantly trying new forms of exercise and drinking in fitness and nutrition information like it's a Blueberry Vanilla No-Milk Shake; the only type of exercise I've ever stuck with, though, is Curves.

Until probably now.

More than likely, I'm going to continue with The Dailey Method, a fitness class that combines barre ballet, yoga and Pilates in order to improve posture, develop core strength and promote long, lean, strong muscles.

It's not just because my posture has improved {oh, has it!}. Nor is it only because my core is so much stronger and I've actually toned some of my stubborn areas.

Although, I've been really grateful for these improvements in health, my desire to press on revolves around more than just the physical.

It's mental. 


While I'm in class my mind doesn't wander and chew over ideas or thoughts or situations or anything; rather, I'm focused solely on the task that's presented simply because the movements and poses require so much conscious effort and focus.


Some would call it meditation. 


I call it soul song. Because for those 60 minutes I'm in class, moving and stretching and tightening and pulsing and holding my muscles, very intensely and intentionally working extremely specific body parts, I'm thanking God for this awesome gift of my body. 


For a long time, I've struggled with body image issues and loving my body the way God has made it.

The Dailey Method classes have given me ample opportunity to get quiet in a peaceful, sun-drenched space; essentially these classes have given me time to tune into the body God's given me in healthy way.

Instead of focusing on what it isn't, what it can't do, what it doesn't look like, I center all of my mind-energy during class around gratitude to God for what my body is, what it can do and what it does look like.

Though I decided to begin classes at The Dailey Method to improve my posture and core strength, I also decided to document my journey via photo in order to see whether posture improvement and core strengthening can be measured visually instead of only by feeling.

Week one at The Dailey Method

Week four {14 classes taken} at The Dailey Method

I've been attending classes the recommended four times per week during this month I've been gifted in order to be able to share here honestly and knowledgeably about The Dailey Method. But after this week, I'll probably cut down to two classes per week simply because the studio is so far from my home {30 - 40 minutes} and I'm limited to times when John can care for the boys because the on-site childcare, while fantastic, is expensive at $6 per child when added to the cost of each individual class {$20} and gas money. 


However, if I lived closer to the studio, I'd definitely take advantage of the first month special {unlimited classes for $100} because I absolutely love the class flow, the energy, the encouraging and knowledgeable instructors and the warmth of the space in addition to the way I feel during and after classes.


My time spent at The Dailey Method has exceeded my expectations while enriching not only my understanding of the body and fitness but also my life.

Week One at The Dailey Method

Week Two at The Dailey Method

Fine Print: The Dailey Method of Lake Forest has generously gifted me with unlimited classes for 30 days in exchange for writing about my experiences. All opinions are my own, and I take seriously the responsibility to share my  true experiences and feelings. Please note that I've been engaging in my normal fitness routine at Curves while adding in TDM classes.

Living Healthfully: On Wearing Swimsuits

There's no magical number that makes swimsuit shopping fun.

Not even 129 pounds.

Because at 129 pounds, there's still roundness spread across my hips,

fullness of my thighs

and enough handles at the waist to have and to hold and not quite love all that much.

{Did I mention there's much, much less to fill out the top half of the swimsuit? It's been something like driving from the grand mountains of Colorado to the foothills of the Mississippi River ...}

And at 129 pounds, there's still the same kind of tension holdover from when I weighed 198 pounds -- one I would have expected to have faded into nothingness; it lingers between me and the body I've lived in for 29 years. Though everything has morphed and changed, it remains.

I just didn't completely realize it until I stood in front of a department store mirror donning a swimsuit while staring incredulously at how much thinner I've become

and

how I still don't love the way I look in a swimsuit.



No -- how I still don't love what's beneath the swimsuit.

Even after conceiving four babies, carrying and delivering two of them healthy and full term, nursing and nourishing these boys of mine into strong and healthy small people

even after dealing with so many of my emotional eating issues and finally realizing what it means to feast on the real Bread of Life

even after taking my body on a cross-country-like-epic detox and rebuilding health journey these past six months

even though I've seen first hand that this body is capable of amazing feats, tasks and healing

and even though I've known full well that it was fearfully and wonderfully made

I still don't fully love and unconditionally accept it the beauty of its shape.

I still allow my eyes to undress the imperfections of my reflection while in a cold dressing room as I haphazardly sneak glances of myself while trying on swimsuit after swimsuit after swimsuit.

I have this fleeting, tempting thought while standing half-dressed in the fitting room:

maybe I can hide.

Maybe I can find a long gauzy dress of sorts to live in during pool and lake and beach season.

Maybe I can cover it all up and just not think about what's beneath the light, flowy dress I'm sure I can find on the racks just outside the door.

Because then I can just take another quick glance in the mirror and buy whatever black suit I can find and walk out of the store with a suit and cover in hand ... triumphant in purchase but also

defeated.

Defeated and deflated. Because this isn't really so much about not loving all of the swimsuits I'm trying to fashion onto my body.

This is so much more about loving all of me, including my body.

So, instead I march back to the racks and find patterns I like, styles I deem fashionable

and I march my butt right back into the room to try each on.

And I make myself look.

Really look.

I look long and I look hard, and I'm sure John, who is waiting patiently outside, is probably wondering how long it really takes to remove one set of clothes and replace them with swatches of stretchy fabric.

But I'm not looking at the suits any more even though I'm standing in a black and white striped two piece.



I'm looking at the heart beating in my chest, and I force myself to say out loud thank you.

That's it's beating.

"I only deepen the wound of the world when I neglect to give thanks for the early light dappled through leaves and the heavy perfume of wild roses in early July and the song of crickets on humid nights ant the rivers that run and the starts that rise and the rain that falls and all the good things that a good God gives." Ann Voskamp, One Thousand Gifts

I give thanks for our bodies. For my body.

I move slowly down my body, this good gift, this wonderful hand-knit creation*, thankful for each of the following inches of skin and muscle and bone

the ribs that now show beneath tightened skin

and the pudge that slightly spills over the black waist band

and the breasts that barely fill the cup

and the legs that carry all kinds of weight

and the eyes that crease in smiles of joy

and the creation

standing in front of me.

I pick the black and white two piece and return to my shorts and tank top, relieved to have decided on a bathing suit I like

but perhaps more relieved to have decided to finally start making efforts toward really loving what fills the fabric.

*Psalm 119

Everyday Life: Redefining Beauty by Bathroom Mirror

Size four.

I slip my hips into size four black pants, chic, designer hand-me-downs.

I don't expect them to fit, honestly, but they zip and button and latch.

Haphazardly, I decide to wear the pants, straight-legged and fitted, to my sister’s baby shower, thankful for clothes that fit without cost, grateful for a healing, healthier body and slightly awed at this drastically new shape I have yet to fully embrace.

I’d spent years wrestling with body envy in the name of fashion before I shifted the focus from two-piece swimsuits and skinny jeans to healthy heart, healthy body mass and healthy thoughts. Slowly, my mind has shifted as my body has transformed that what makes the body beautiful has less to do with clothes and more to do with how it’s been created.

That I have strong legs, a healthy heart to carry me after little boys who play escape down the neighborhood sidewalk.

That my hips can carry an extra 30 pounds of crying child, my lips can kiss away hurts.

That my arms can hold tight my husband in full embrace.

That my body has twice grown new life and nourished children and a marriage.

During the middle of the party, I sneak off to the bathroom for a quick break and am confronted by a full-length mirror next to the sink, my long-time worst enemy and truthful friend.

Normally, I look away, but today I take it all in, this new shape.

My sister steps out of the bathroom stall, all belly and beautiful and glowing and her frame, too, is now next to mine in the full-frame reflection of the mirror, and I can't help but stare at two bodies that are perfectly imperfect and capable of so much more than I ever used to appreciate.

I’m absolutely overcome with the lovely she’s radiating, how she’s simply overflowing with life, her shirt and skirt perfectly accentuating soft curves, how her size-four body has lovingly and achingly stretched to make room for another small body, has given and grown to bring forth a tiny gift to our family, our world.

From inside those long-envied size four pants, I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t willingly trade them in for the flowing skirt she’s wearing at that very moment. 

Because beauty to me now is much less about the size four pants and much more about what fills them {baby bump and beyond}.

Living Healthfully: Feasts

Editor's Note: After taking my journey with calorie-restricted diets and and restrictive food diets, I no longer feel that either are healthy. You can read my hard-fought-for, hard-lesson-learned food philosophy here. 

Here's the thing about dieting and living healthfully that popular culture wouldn't have us believe: we don't have to starve or leave the table unsatisfied to shed pounds or maintain a healthy weight.




In fact, you can, and you should eat filling portions of tasty, colorful, seasonal foods.


So, today, at my Curves club, we did just that: we feasted on delicious, healthy, metabolism-revving foods while celebrating our members who have logged more than 1,000 workouts during the past decade {and may I add-- that is a lot of toning, sweating and just plain working it.}


The coaches and I made dishes to pass and served our super-dedicated, super-beautiful ladies a lunch they enjoyed and feel good about indulging in. Also, the lunch was a really awesome way to share with some of our most loyal members a smattering of the recipes from the Curves Complete 90-Day Challenge {and, you guys, we only have TWENTY THREE DAYS left!} -- all recipes with which the coaches have been nourishing their bodies while shedding fat and inches and pounds.


Between the delicious, filling food and the delicious, filling conversation, our celebration of their achievements was an absolute delight. It's so heart-filling to hear about what Curves has meant to our extremely dedicated ladies. And, I have to say -- I can relate. This place, it's meant so much to me -- the beautiful faces, the warmth, the support, the encouragement, the results.

Oh, and while I'm mentioning results, can I tell you something super exciting? Probably more exciting than fitting into single-digit shorts?? I met a second goal today: my BMI jumped into the fair category -- And it's just ONE POINT away from the good zone. {I am almost just speechless at the overwhelming gratitude I have for Curves International and its amazing research of the eating and exercise plans; I cannot even fully express.}

Goosebumps. I keep catching glimpses of myself in mirrors or photographs and blinkblinkblinking while asking is that girl really me? This whole health journey has been incredible.

So I am full -- in so many ways after today. Between the conversation and the sharing of our lives and having met another goal -- our feast-- for both the body and soul -- was the best way ever to begin my trek into year three as a Curves owner.