Operation: Beach Bootcamp

Note: The strategies I used during this little "bootcamp" do not accurately reflect my current habits. I'm learning all the time. I recommended reading more recent posts from the Body Love category to stay up to date!

The first goal I've decided to tackle this year, for health AND for fun, is getting into my personal best physical shape for an upcoming Nicaraguan surf retreat on February 15th. This bikini is standing by!

Wonder_Woman_Bikini1_POP

Wonder_Woman_Bikini1_POP

My plan

Exercise:

I'm really happy with my strength overall.  The emphasis for now is on losing extra holiday pounds.  I also want to pay a little extra attention to upper body strength to help with paddling during my surf trip, and help me progress with my aerial skills.  I'll be doing:

  • Cardio 5 x week - Interval training or other cardio classes that will burn claories, strengthen and get it all done in an hour - If I'm working out on my own, I'll run for about 30 minutes

  • Mind Body Class 2 x week - yoga, barre, or home practice

  • Pull-up training - I should have enough time to run through The 21-Day Pullup Challenge twice!

  • Aerials once a week.  If I want to see progress on the silks, I've got to practice, practice, practice.

Nutrition:

Shout out to my nutritionist, Julie! Lots of these are habits I normally practice anyway, but I'll be cutting back on extras and focusing on making the basics really count.

  • Commit to eating 3 meals a day plus a couple snacks (no skipping meals, no getting carried away with snacking, and no substituting snack foods for meals. That means no Pinkberry yogurt for lunch... for now!)

  • Drink lots of water

  • Commit to having salad and dark green veggies every day

  • Limit grains to 1-2 servings per day

  • Eat lean protein every day

  • Eat so many vegetables I can hardly stand it

I got started on this plan on January 2nd, and I already feel really good.  My mood has lifted and my energy is better.

Do you currently have weight loss goals you'd like to achieve?  Other health or strength goals?  I'd love to hear about them, or have you join me in this winter beach bootcamp!

Childhood Bullying: Leaving the Scars Behind by Robin Marino

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Editor's Note: I am honored to feature this guest post from friend and fellow barre teacher, Robin Marino.  Robin was there to support me and as I shared my story at a recent event for the Jeanne Geiger Crisis Center, which prompted her to share this piece about her own history of abuse in the form of childhood bullying .  -Andrea I am sitting in the audience, listening to someone I find truly inspiring talk about her history with abuse.  When she says that abuse chooses no one "type", I believe her.  I believe that this is true.  Except for me.  My name is Robin Marino, and I was bullied.  A lot.  And for many years.  Although I have long forgiven the people who bullied me, the effect it has had on me - the way that it has informed my life - is monumental.  The fact that I could sit on that floor and still think about all the things I should have said, done, or been -  makes me sad,  At age 41, there is a large part of me that feels like the bullying was my fault.  I was weak, I was weird, I was annoying, I was emotional.  If I *hadn't* been any of those things, I never would have been targeted.  It's amazing the things we can believe about ourselves.  If someone else said that to me, I would be the first to say "that's crazy!".  Sometimes even a Women's Studies degree can't save you from yourself until you really let yourself see the bigger picture.

I was always a little different.  Growing up in a day when not many people talked about sensory processing disorder, I was that child.  In that time I was diagnosed with ADHD, but regardless, I was sensitive to everything and everyone.  In 1st grade I was teased in the cafeteria - I was known as Skinny Bones (I know; poor me...but trust me that a 1st grader does not care about her skinny badge of honor).  For me, real bullying didn't start until 6th grade, and then I had layers of bullies.  In the classroom, my "best friend" would bully me one minute, then become my confidant the next.  It was a crazy roller coaster of mindplay, but I felt like I had no choice but to stay friends, despite wedgies in the hall (yes, funny, but no, not so much when it's you) and spit in my hair.

But that was child's play until my second layer of bullying came along.  Listening on the bus one afternoon to some 5th graders gossip about one of my classmates' sisters, I decided to pass the information along.  Maybe I thought it would give me a leg up in my classroom; I don't know.  As often happens when you choose to get involved, it came back to bite me.  The sister was not the least bit upset with the girls talking about her, but life as I knew it at school, on the bus, and in the neighborhood was over.  For 3 years, I lived in fear.  I was always looking over my shoulder, waiting for my bullies.  And did I mention they were younger than me?  The shame of that is something you can't imagine unless you've been there.

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robin

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robin2

Verbal and physical abuse was everywhere.  Gum on my seat, spitty lifesavers stuck to my jacket on the bus, anything and everything thrown at me - and said to me.  Almost an entire bus turned against me rather than stand up for me. Those layers of bullying I mentioned - one more layer added as soon more people joined their "team".  I remember a particularly mortifiying experience in which I babysat next door to one of my bullies.  In order for the father to drive me home, he needed to have his neighbor - my bully - watch the kids temporarily.  Scared beyond belief, I hid in the garage until the father came out to get into the car.  Suffice it to say that I was never asked back. In 8th grade, my sister pleaded with my parents to do something.  It's not that they didn't want to before; I had asked them not to.  But the day I came home with life savers stuck all over my blue winter jacket, I was so beyond defeated that I would have done anything to make it stop. So my dad did what any loving father would do when his daughter was in pain - he made it go away.  My very quiet, non-confrontational dad called each of the girls' dads and told them to stop.  While the shame that goes along with having your dad stand up to your year-younger-than-you bullies is crushing, the peace that goes along with having it all stop is worth it.  In the middle of 8th grade, I was free.  I could walk the halls without fear.  That is priceless.

One of the things that still strikes me to this day is both fathers' response to my dad - "We try to let the kids work things out on their own".  In the 80's, there was a lot of that going on.  The bus driver on my bus literally pretended like nothing was happening.  My 6th grade teacher did the same.  My neighborhood friends riding the bus were too scared to do or say anything so they remained silent - or joined in.  I don't blame them - any of them.  It wasn't a culture of "If you see something, say something".  We've come a long way.  That said, bullying is a lot more in our face, and the stakes are so much higher.  In this cyberculture of hiding behind our words, we can wound each other with one press of a key. But finally we are realizing that these kids - the ones without a way to climb out of their pain - cannot do it alone.  Even as a 6th grader, I knew something wasn't right.

Fast forward to me sitting in the audience, thinking about abuse.  That while my friend is categorically not responsible for her experience with domestic violence, I am, however, responsible for having been bullied.  Interesting dichotomy here.  Why?  Because I was the one who eavesdropped on the bus.  Because I was different.  Because I was weak.  Because.  I am far from perfect.  I picked on people.  I am opinionated.  I can be judgmental.  But I will always teach my children not to bully - and perhaps more importantly, to see the bullying around them.

Bullying is a systematic way of keeping someone down.  There is still a little girl inside me who is a victim, who is still "kept down" by the memories, the pain, the shame - this time, by herself.  I spent a lot of years trying to make myself smaller through starving myself.  If I was small, then no one could find me; no one could hurt me.  If I was small, I was better.  Everyone likes small.  Everyone likes better.  But I am starting to believe this for myself:  nothing happened to me because I wasn't that better version of myself.  Sometimes things just happen.  The bullying left scars.  Now I'm leaving the scars behind.

-By Robin Marino

I Overcame Domestic Violence and Now I'm Talking About It

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rasamaya collage

OK, it's official.  Right now is the most powerful point in my life (so far.)  I was recently honored to be a guest speaker to raise awareness for the Jeanne Geiger Crisis Center, serving the greater Newburyport, MA area.  Why was I asked to speak?  Because years ago, I was one of their clients, someone who needed a place to turn, and who came to them seeking help putting my life back together after domestic violence.

For the past several years, it has been my dream to begin sharing my story -- this was in fact one of the reasons I created this blog.  Speaking up on behalf of the crisis center gave me an opportunity to fulfill this wish, to help shine a light on where I and countless others have been.

Breaking the silence around domestic violence is essential if we want to remove the stigma and shame around this topic so that those suffering from abuse can speak up and get the help they need. 

It has also given me the chance to reflect on how far I've come and what a different place I'm at in my life these days.  I feel empowered and successful, and I am so grateful for that.

I participated in two events, the first of which was at the beautiful new home of Rasamaya studio in Newburyport, MA, owned by my dear friend Carrie Tyler.*  It was no accident when the universe matched me and Carrie up a few years ago, and she remains an inspiration to me every day.  She is a powerhouse, not only as an incredibly knowledgeable and masterful yoga and movement teacher, but as a visionary entrepreneur, creative spirit, and champion of women's empowerment in every form.  She is one of the few people that understands my passion and excitement for feminist activism, one of the few who understand the word 'feminist' to be something alive with inclusion and possibility as I do.

With my notes (and tissues) in hand, I stood before the crowd, many of whom I'd known as neighbors, colleagues and students years ago, and told them that, unbeknownst to them at the time, I'd been fighting the biggest struggle of my life in those days.  

I told them that I'd been ashamed for them to know my life was such a mess, ashamed of the choices I had made that had led to that.  I told them that it was food stamps and Christmas gifts donated to the Salvation Army that got my family through that first year, struggling not just with my own healing, but with single parenting as well.  Despite the challenges, that was the year I enrolled in college for the last time (as a Women's Studies major, and eventually graduated!), the year I began to teach, the year I met the partner who has been by my side ever since, the year I learned how strong my body could be, as I came back to the barre day after day and watched myself transform, inside and out.

I am grateful that there was a place I could turn to plant the seeds of renewal that would eventually sprout.  That I was given legal advocacy at a time when I had no idea how I would provide for my family, a time when I lived in fear for my life, not just everyday worry, but truly fearing that I might actually be killed.  It has been a long road, and all of that feels well behind me now.  Maybe that's why now is the perfect time for me to begin speaking up.

When domestic violence landed me on the x-ray table of an emergency room, our neighbors and friends would never have believed it.  

We seemed normal, even successful.  We seemed to have it all.  What I have seen to be true more and more in the years since, is that abuse happens EVERYWHERE, to every 'type' of person.  I hope that my sharing will help put a face to this issue that is so much easier NOT to talk about.  It is so important that we DO talk about it.

The response that I got afterward from those in attendance meant so much to me.  To see how many in the crowd wiped away tears of empathy as I shared my story, and to have them thank me and shake my hand afterward was so rewarding, when I was asked to speak at a second event, I did not hesitate to accept.

I've had many years to heal from my experience, and I don't doubt that the trials I've been through have made me stronger.  I want to say, without belittling the severity of my experience, that I have made peace with this chapter of my life and with the abuser as well.

I believe if there is no hope for abusers, there is no hope for any of us.  We are all one. 

I look forward to continuing with this work that is so important to me.  Not only to reach out to support those who have been victims of abuse, but to help solve the problem of how we can create a world that does not produce abuse in the first place.  This is my passion and my mission, and I thank you for reading this post.  By taking the time to learn more instead of turning away, you have already brought us one step closer.

Thank you, Andrea Isabelle Lucas Founder and Owner, Barre & Soul, LLC

*Barre & Soul is honored to include Carrie Tyler as a member of the teaching staff and as our Director of Yoga Teacher Training and Anatomy Teacher for our Barre Teacher Training.

If You Want to Achieve Greatness...s

(This post was originally published in January 2014.) Happy New Year everyone!  Here's a post I did a few weeks back for the Lexington Power Yoga blog.  I thought I would share it with you here.  I hope you are feeling fulfilled and inspired in this new year.  If you're looking for a great book to help fan your creative flames, please read on for one of my all time favorites.

Last December I hit a rough patch.  In the wake of some very tragic events in the news, I became depressed.  In addition to that, an undercurrent of dissatisfaction had been lingering in me. This would often show up in the form of sour grapes when I saw what others were doing in their careers.

Every time I logged onto social media I came away feeling awful.

It seemed like ‘everyone’ was doing BIG things.  I knew I should feel happy for my friends and colleagues, but mostly I just felt left out.

Luckily, I went in search of healing for a bothersome hamstring issue with a talented acupuncturist and body worker that winter.  When she looked at me, she saw that something deeper was wrong.  She noticed my low energy and sadness immediately.  She asked me what projects I was working on.

She asked me why I wasn’t performing, writing, or creating, pointing out that my face had lit up at the very mention of the subject.

In addition to some excellent acupuncture, body work, and vitamin D, she gave me a reading assignment: The War of Art, by Steven Pressfield.

war-of-art
war-of-art

Is there a more overused descriptor than ‘life-changing?’Never mind, I don’t care!  There is no better way to describe my experience with this book.If I am lucky, the legacy I hope to leave will be to have written a book that changes lives as this book has done for me.It may have just been the right message at the right time, but I was transformed by this very important piece of work.

I won’t spoil it by trying to recreate the book’s message.It wouldn’t do it justice, and anyway, you could easily read it cover-to-cover in one day.It is concise, riveting and to the point.The author seemed to be personally calling me out on the fact that there was something better, more authentic, more inspiring that I wanted to be doing, and that I wasn’t doing it.The book also showed me that the key to doing it was already inside me.

At an event earlier that December, I’d been prompted to come up with a mantra that would serve me well in the face of challenges.I couldn’t quite articulate it yet but I knew it had something to do with giving myself approval instead of seeking it from others.Soon after reading The War of Art, I happened upon an image created by street artist Eddie Colla.The image read:

If you want to achieve greatness, stop asking for permission.

Just like that, I had found my mantra.

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greatness

One of the things I knew after finishing The War of Art was that being an entrepreneur was important to me, and it was time to stop avoiding it.  I saw that a huge boom in the fitness world was happening around barre workouts.  I had been teaching this method for 6 years, often trying to explain it to people who had never heard of it.  Now this cult favorite in which I had spent thousands of hours was becoming a mainstream trend.

I saw many businesses trying to offer barre, and honestly, they didn’t seem to be doing it very well.  Some instructors I spoke to mentioned one-weekend trainings.  I couldn’t imagine how anyone could learn in a weekend what it took me hundreds of hours to learn, and to teach to other trainees in my former role as a manager and teacher trainer for a large fitness corporation.  I knew there was no reason to stand on the sidelines.

I would create my own barre and yoga business, one that stood not only for excellence but also for humanity, inspiration, and connection.

By the end of January, the seed of Barre & Soul began to sprout.  In May, I taught the first Barre & Soul class at Lexington Power Yoga, always loving the Lexington Yoga community!  By August, I was the owner of my own studio (Barre & Soul Studio, formerly B Yoga Center of Melrose), and in October I brought Barre & Soul to Equinox in Boston.  I can’t wait to see what is next for this venture!

These days, when I have time to look at social media, I am no longer jealous of the accomplishments of others.  My life is not perfect, but I love it.  I feel empowered.  Being an entrepreneur leaves me feeling self-expressed and fulfilled, and I know this is only the beginning of a long and creative career.

I think for a long time, I had been waiting for some kind of green light to get started.  As though I would receive a tap on the shoulder when it was my turn.  Thankfully, I realized that this is rarely the way things work.  If we want to do something great, we only need to give ourselves permission to start.  I’m so happy I did.