The Greatest Man

There was sadness all around me last week. What a way to start a post, right? But sadness surrounded those I love, and all I can do today is share what the existence of those lost meant to me.

One of the last blogs I wrote spoke of my grandmother who passed, and I discussed the gifts I feel she bestowed on my young heart that I wasn’t able to appreciate and now do. I write similarly today regarding one of the greatest, albeit orneriest, men I’ve ever known and one I never got to know.

I am an athletic trainer, have been since I was 15 year old. In 1998 I met a man who would change the course of my career and lead me down the path I currently travel. Dr. KDP introduced me to rodeo sports medicine in Missoula, MT and provided me infinite words of wisdom as I began my young career.

It was through KDP that I learned to never place a hose across a driveway, so no one could run it over and damage the hose, and to wipe out coolers and leave the lid off in the sunshine to dry. I learned it was easier to throw 10 rocks one at a time out of the path than to haul 10 at a time. In truth, I misheard him on that one and didn’t realize my mistake until he said “or just do it however you want.” I learned that BBQ sandwiches taste better during barrel racing and that tequila is better after a Griz win. Pie and ice cream was always the better choice than a beer after a rodeo, and KDP liked buying dinner for a poor college student in Missoula better than in Seattle.

KDP was light. He winked when he smiled that always made you think he was up to something. He drove an automatic red pickup with two feet, one for the brake and one for the gas. He never did anything you or I would call trite, but he always knew what was best for the patients in his care, even if it was a verbal kick in the butt. I spent two years in college and five years as a professional athletic trainer traveling with KDP throughout Montana to various rodeos. I wanted to soak up every ounce of knowledge he was willing to provide. Sure, I made mistakes but he never held it over my head or made me feel dumb. Everything was a lesson, learn from it and move on.

I lost touch with KDP over the years, something I can never forgive myself for, although social media allowed me to keep in contact with his son. I think of KDP's children today. I can only imagine their sadness in losing their father. No words can help ease any sort of sadness in their heart, but I hope that knowing how much their father was loved helps. I think of my best rodeo sports medicine friend RKS and how much KDP meant to him. I’m sad for my friends. I’m sad for the time I missed to fill KDP in on my life and introduce him to #teamharrell and have the littles know a truly great man.

I was hired for my first job because of KDP. I kept my first job because of the lessons he taught. I moved on to earn two post-professional degrees to continue improving a profession (athletic training) that he believed in and supported. I knew one day, as we all know, that God would call this great man home, but the reality is much more difficult. I pray to see him again some day. I know he is upstairs chewing on a swisher sweet and yelling at one of the cowboys who was taken from us too soon. Lane Frost comes to mind, and the term Cowboy Up. I hope he knows how much we on earth love him and miss him, and that even when we failed to keep in touch he was never far from my mind and heart.

The other man, never got to be a man. He never got to see the outside of a hospital or feel grass on his little legs. BabyJ would be 4 years old now. I can still remember the message that something was wrong and that BabyJ’s mother was going into labor early. Then I remember the picture of the sweet little boy who was too sick and in danger. Out of respect for his family, you will just have to trust me when I say heartbreak is the only word. That night I cried like I never had before for the baby I never got to know and the friend I was too far away to console. I feel the same today.

No one should have to go through the pain of losing a child. There are no words a single person can say to take away the pain and hole left in the wake of such loss. If there was a way, I would gladly take up breathing for my friend on the days she feels like she cannot, and take away every ounce of pain. 

If. Only. I. Could. 

Although life continues to move forward for BabyJ’s family there will always be a piece stuck in 2014.

BabyJ should know he has a beautiful big sister and adorable little brother. He should be running around and playing with balls, and bugs, and learning about dinosaurs. He’s not doing those things today, and there is no explanation why. I like to believe he is upstairs doing all those things we as adults think he should be doing down here. I want to believe BabyJ’s existence, although much too short, helped his mother follow a path that can lead to healing for other mothers both physically and mentally.

I want my friend to know our core group will stand by her and pick her up when she feels she can’t go on. 

That’s what we do. 

I want other mothers going through grief to know there are people who care. October is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness month. The statistics are staggering, and I hope that those living with grief, like my friend, are able to feel all the feels without loss of self.

What do I hope to accomplish by writing this blog? What do I want? Well, I WANT to take away the pain. I WANT for neither of these events to have happened. However, I can only offer these words as a tribute to my dear friend and a small little wonder. Although our bodies may vanquish, please let these words last and demonstrate the love one person has for a group. 

Gambler

"You gotta know when to hold 'em, know when to fold 'em."

Since my last blog the world stopped, again. The person I alluded to in "Where were you…" decided he really didn't love me, or maybe like me, regardless, he's gone; poof, as if six months meant nothing. I don't get it, but it's his loss. Right?

The great thing is the timing. Only three days after I called him "the greatest adventure" he gave up. That's not the good part though, it happened the eve of my trip to Nicaragua! Can you believe that?!? I got on a plane feeling like my chest was ripped in two. I didn't let it affect my week. No one knew I was even having issues...I don't ALWAYS say everything that's on my mind. *wink

The timing of the trip and breakup worked well for me. I was able to throw myself into doing things for others for seven days. Then while I was down there the message of every church service was about relationships, and how women should be treated so much better than we sometimes get treated. I took every message to heart. I thought it meant to come home and fight for this person and help show him how love is supposed to be.

Wrong.

Those messages ended up giving me the strength and courage to just end that which was not working. Facebook helped too. Seriously, when lying to a woman and telling her you have "a lot going on in your life" don't let your friends post drunk pictures of you on Facebook and talk about how hot the Bachelorette is!

Ok, diatribe over.

Nicaragua was amazing. We built a wall with bricks and cement. I bent metal to use with columns of rebar. I dispensed medicine to people of Leon after the saw a doctor. I have never been so filthy in my entire life! Sweating and playing in concrete and dirt will do that to you! Of course I loved every blister producing back breaking second of it. Well, I did until I caught a stomach bug on our last day there. I'm still battling a general yucky feeling, but not a big deal.

The people I met in Leon, both Nicaraguans and the Americans I went with were wonderful. It was nice getting to have some introspection time. We gave thanks for the people, relationships, and experiences.

I promised one of the guys I would even go down to Pearland for a few services to maintain the relationships. It can't hurt to add a little "higher power" into my life.

You would think my month had enough to keep me busy. Nope, I added more. One week after breaking up with the "love of my life" (blech, whatever that means) I took my true love (the orange jeep) out to Austin and wheeled at Hidden Falls Off Road Park.

He and I almost didn't go. I almost went with a guy friend to drive his jeep. That would have been fun too, but things happened, as they usually do, and I was solo. I would have enjoyed the white jeep, but getting to wheel with MY modifications and remember that adrenalin rush was just what I needed. Let’s just say if a guy ever wants to go wheel with me we better trailer his AND mine so we can travel together. I'm not leaving my baby behind!

Look at what it can do!

 

Would you leave it at home? No! You can't keep a wild animal caged!

So we wheeled and I came bank to Houston exhausted, but happy. There is a monkey off my back. No more worrying about someone else's issues. No more guilt about not wheeling my jeep.

I found out this weekend I'm good at a few things: being a damn good friend, being single, and wheeling.

Conveniently my jeep allows me to do all of those things. Maybe some guy will sweep me up. Maybe he won't. I'm ok regardless. Before New Year's Eve I thought my world was empty if I didn't get married or have a relationship. Now I'm not so sure. Maybe it's a little relationship PTSD. I'm not in a hurry to jump into anything. If a guy comes a long I guarantee we will take the whole "feelings" step SLOW.

I folded one hand and am waiting for better cards to play.

For now my prayers are for all my friends, men and women, to have happy healthy meaningful lives. Sorry y'all, there's no definition as to what that means. You need to figure that on your own. I have some ideas for me, but those cards I'll play close to my heart.

Inspiration song; Gambler by Kenny Rogers

 

 

 

Where Were You When the World Stopped Turning?

Six months ago the world changed. The numbness, fear, and pain remain for so many. I’ll admit it, they remain for me.

Alan Jackson sings the song "Where Were You (When the World Stopped Turning)", and we know the song to be about that day in September almost 12 years ago. However, in my little bubble the world stopped turning on the axis I trusted for 34 years on January 10, 2013.

I did not cry that morning.

I did not break down.

I did not throw anything.

I just stared.

The carpet was blue with brown spots; coffee stained the floor to the left of where I sat. I know this because it was what kept me grounded in the first moments of realization.

Hysterical laughter took over 12 hours later when I found out the shoulder I'd been waiting to cry on would not be there for much much longer. The person on the other end of the phone asked if I was alright. My response, “I am most certainly NOT alright!”

Six months later, I’m ok.

They have not been empty months; lonely, but not empty. New friendships have been forged; games have been won and lost. Moments have been experienced. Countless miles have been driven. Countless miles.

This story has taken me from Houston to Galveston to Austin to Missouri and in three days to Nicaragua. I'm excited about Nicaragua for multiple reasons. It is a mission trip through New Hope Church in Pearland. Some of you may think it’s odd, because you know I'm not an overtly "churchy" person. I could not recite a bible verse if Jesus himself came down from the skies and demanded I do so. To me, this trip isn't about church, it's about change. Maybe for one week I can make a change in someone's world that is not directly related to my own. Maybe I can find strength to deal with the changes brought upon by that day in January and the certain changes I will be facing in the coming months.

I learned this phrase Sunday: Omnia mutantur, nihil interit, by Ovid.

"Everything changes, nothing perishes."

Ovid is correct, everything DOES change. I have two tattoos, as well as a necklace I never take off, as a sort of testament to my belief in ever changing life. The part that kills me is the fact those I care about have had to sustain so much painful change, but we WILL get through it, together.

And even through the change nothing is permanently lost or dead. The impact on our lives made by a person or circumstance never leaves us. Even though that person is no longer in our lives physically does not mean they aren't there. The things they taught us about love and living are carried with us daily. The way I live and the way I love is my greatest memorial to BigBrother. I won't get to see his blue eyes while he tells me to, "Go! Have fun! Get your smile back!" Now I just close my eyes to hear his voice and picture him standing in the training room yelling those words of wisdom (yes, yelling) when I have doubts. Ha, I even hear him say, "My 'give a damn' is busted" when I start getting stressed about ridiculousness I don't need to be stressing about. I remember its ok to just let problems fix themselves. That's his legacy!

What happens when it's not a loss that changes you, but a situation? Something so completely out of your control and unforeseen that shakes everything you ever thought of yourself? What if that change can lead to something you previously thought impossible? And what if that ended up being a positive?

Change is not always negative. Sure, it feels like it at the time.

Change is just change. 

Change is different, it's HARD.

Going from losing a best friend, husband, father, and mentor is soul crushing. Finding a person who loves you and you love in return requires trust and work, but is amazingly rewarding.

Life has not been easy these past months, and it certainly isn't what I expected. There is much to tell; not here, not today. I would not be where I am today if not for January 10, 2013. The relationship forged from circumstances of that evening may be the grandest adventure of all. I wish every day I could talk to BigBrother about it. I have a feeling I know what he would say most days. I’d share, but it is nothing appropriate to print here, of course. I believe he would support me and want me to be happy. That's what he wanted for all of us.

In the end, I hope and pray the relationships built through the struggles sustain us. I will continue to be the same strong person who can make people laugh when they really don't want to. Be the support to get loved ones out of the house when what they would rather sit and cry.  I will force communication for my own understanding and ability to support. I will channel the voice so many of us long to hear just one more time.

Six months.

I didn't tell him how much he meant to me and how happy I was to have him back. I didn't say goodbye the night before, I had plenty of time to do that, right? How were any of us to know?? Never again will I make that assumption. I overuse the words "I love you" now more than ever. It is because of that day turning I know what it means to live those three words.

Six months.

The world has started turning again. Everything has changed. Nothing has been permanently lost. Our time together was too short, but we will all do everything in our power to keep you in our thoughts and live the life you taught us to live.

 

 

 

Runs Out of Rain

On behalf of the family I want to thank everyone who attended my grandmother's funeral. The large attendance was a testament to the woman my grandmother was. To those of my friends who did not have the chance to meet my grandmother I wanted to leave some words in hopes you may get to know her.

I am sure everyone there has their own stories about what my grandmother meant to them.

Some may have remembered her days as a flapper, sporting a bobbed haircut and dancing to the latest musical craze.

My grandma was a bit scandalous, how cool is THAT?!?

Many may have remembered her fabulous smile as one of her sheep, thier lamb, won yet another ribbon at the Nez Perce County Fair.

WE remember her as the backbone of the Andrews family.

Hilma Irene Andrews was strength and independence before I knew what those words meant. After her husband Leo died in 1979 she raised kids, grand kids, corn, and sheep all on her own.

I am the last of the granddaughters, raised around four male cousins and one brother, and I cannot be more proud of this legacy.

She may have failed to teach me how to play the piano, but she did succeed in teaching me how to live my life and not be defined by the men in it. For that, I say "thank you" and "I love you".

Grandma Hilma was strong in faith, body, and mind.

She was most proud of our Swedish heritage. In the basement of the United Methodist Church she dressed first my cousin, Leeann, and then me in a white robe and red sash. She then adorned our heads in a wreath of white candles in celebration of St Lucia.

The wreath was SO heavy and scratchy!!

Thank goodness when it was my turn she found an electric wreath! The poor cousin before me wore candles of melting wax!

Regardless of our comfort level, for Grandma, we read the story of St Lucia and handed out saffron rolls to churchgoers after mass.

It wasn't only those saffron rolls she could cook. I am most thankful she taught my father how to cook vegetables. In fact, on days I am particularly homesick I search for recipes she made when we were kids, such as her favorite Impossible Taco Pie.

Her recipe book was Pinterest before Pinterest. She loved to find new recipies and try them out oun her family. Just like Pinterest recipes there is occasionally a fail. Hilma's fail was her attempt at what I THINK was polenta. Let me just say, NO amount of apricot jelly could save that mushy dish, but FreightTrain, SandPile and I finished ours, for Grandma.

As she fed our bodies she also led as an example of what living an active lifestyle can do. Up until August of her 88th year she fed the sheep on her own every day. During our summers living in the house at 433 Thain Rd she never stopped moving. She understood, and taught us to understand, work never ceases needing done, so why stop doing it.

She not only exercised her body, she exercised her mind. If someone were to ask me to say the first word that comes to mind when I think of our grandmother I would say "crossword".

Hilma LOVED her crossword puzzles. Her kitchen was always full of crossword clue books. Every time Shane and I went for a visit she would be sitting at the kitchen table slaving over that morning's crossword. I'm proud to say that is a habit I picked up a few years ago. She claimed that was how she fought off Alzheimer's, because she constantly used her brain.

I tell these stories as a way to allow you inside the life of a woman we all knew and loved. I also tell them to illustrate the impact she had on my life. I am the woman I am today in part because of her. The model she provided was irreplaceable.

There will be an empty chair at our Christmas morning breakfast table this year, and she will be missed more than some of us can fully express.

I hope her family and friends are able to take solace in the fact she is finally at peace. Her body and mind were tired from all that exercise and she earned a long nap.

FreightTrain told me his view of Heaven is saying good things about someone after they've passed and never forgetting the lessons they taught. If that is Heaven I am sure Hilma is there right now, as the last few days have been spent sharing and retelling stories of her life.

Keep her spirit alive by smiling at strangers, and never stop moving. Don't stop moving your body and never ever stop moving your mind.

If you take a nip of spirits this holiday season, and your nose starts to tingle, know that is Hilma saying goodbye in her own little way.

Inspiratation song, Runs Out of Rain by Gary Allen

I realize this is an odd choice for an inspiration song, but I couldn't help feeling it appropriate as her body finally ran out of pain.

We Are Family

We are Family

I saw this picture posted by a friend on FB the other day. I had to laugh, because that is totally how I feel.

Have you ever done something or joined a group that changed the way you look at everything??

I've actually written a few blogs, but haven't been able to get them posted about this subject. The subject of how my life has been revolutionized in the span of two months.

I have never spent so much money on anything in my life and not felt guilty one second about it. Jeep...defined as "Just Empty Every Pocket"

I haven't felt this interested in a subject since I was a student athletic trainer...in high school.

If you are one of my oldest and dearest you have no idea what the man is saying in the picture, because I didn't two months ago. Don't worry, I'm not done with you, but if you're new to my life and don't get it, well, you don't get it.

For the novices, those initials are all types of Jeeps. I'll admit it, I'm a nut. Trainer A thinks I joined a cult. I sort of did. Can I offer you some koolaid?? Purple or red??

Since the first weekend in July I have spent countless amounts of brain power learning about my automobile and myself. I have a list that grows everyday with something to make Beevo look or perform off-road better. I started small, but am now moving on to some major modifications. I consider them major, others think its cute and pat me on the head!

When I first brought Beevo home my intention was to have something I would look good driving in while wearing short shorts and a tank top. He was cute with his stock tires and full bumper. A little calf.

Once I met the HJP and TJ groups I realized cute is another word for dull and tiny!

My first move was to get bigger tires. That made him look tougher.

The second move was to "shorten his mustache". This involved shortening his front bumper after he got his first trail dimple.

**dimple on driver's side bumper

 

**shortened bumper

Man, now he's starting to look like a roping steer rather than a calf.

We had a bit of a snafu this last week. After a course of terrible events I did not have the energy to put the back windows on Beevo before going to work. Well, September has been a bit of a b-word and so Mother Nature joined in on the fun. She decided to throw sideways wind and rain into my beloved. I got to the Jeep Friday night to find easily two inches of water on my front passenger floor board. That is just what I was able to see, in reality my entire carpet was SOAKED.

Again, terrible events collided and I was unable to deal with the situation until Sunday. Outlaw helped me cut out the carpet and it's drying in my garage. I'm not sure if I will put it back in. I want to rubberize the flooring instead. I may put the carpet back on top of the RhinoLiner.

More money...oh well, in the long run it will be better. So many things will be better. Seriously, my list grows everyday.

I love it. I love learning a new term or about a new part. This is something that is so completely mine. I didn't ask permission from anyone. I was in a situation this summer where I had a little extra cash to get started. I am not doing it to please any one person. I'm doing it for me.

My dear friends don't understand that every conversation must start with "so in the Jeep I was". My students laugh at me, but the guys kind of get it and let me ramble. The girls just think it's cool I have a Jeep.

I've learned the names of individual people don't matter, they go by the name of their Jeep. How awesome for someone who writes a blog?!? Automatic nicknames!

I am also quickly understanding that no one is alone in this world. I used to think I needed to do it on my own. Now I know I can't, I don't have the knowledge, Beevo isn't big enough yet, and it's just unsafe. If I am in trouble I must and am able to ask for help. And when I do, it is right around the corner, even if it's just a question posted on Facebook or a text message.

I have seen a lot of south and central Texas in the Bull. From our pre-HJP/TJ trip to Padre to College Station. Beevo and I have put 6000 miles in together since June 1, with more to come! Saturday we will go back to College Station and Brazos Valley Off-Road Ranch. In November we will take our new longer legs to Arkansas of all places. Have you ever heard me say it would be fun to go to Arkansas? Except for a friend in East Texas, has anyone?? However, there is an off-road facility there and a large group of people are going to convoy up and play for a couple days.

Gas prices suck, I know this, but so does sitting at home. I don't sit well. I need to be outside. I need to be around people.

In two months I have allowed myself to splurge and do things I never in my life thought I would. I never thought I would seriously spend two days hammering over the different types of lifts I could get. That's what I did this weekend. If I'm not driving my Jeep I am doing something to make it better. There is no end to this game. As Outlaw says "Wheel what you got until it does not do what you want. Then We can build it up as a team and make it do it !"

Notice the "we" is capitalized.

You've heard it said, "it's a Jeep thing". It's true. It's a group of people sharing a common goal of getting out and testing our self and mechanical limits.

We are family!

Inspiration song...We Are Family by Sister Sledge

Barefoot Blue Jeans Night

I know I wrote last week about my love for yoga pants. Call me fickle, but I am also in love with another material item...its name is Beevo.

Beevo is my Jeep Wranger Unlimited. Beevo gets his name because he is "University of Texas" orange and looks like a bull. There was no other fitting name!!

I mean look at it...

It's definitely not taking any crap from anyone!!!

If you are a forward, well “backward” thinking person you know that copper is the original color of The University of Montana. I like to think of my Jeep as a throwback rather than supporting UT.

Beevo is not just an automobile, it is my first “car love” realized. The only automobile I have ever wanted of my own is a Jeep. I told Mighty when we were on a family trip my fifth-grade year I wanted a Suzuki Samarai. He said "If you’re going to get anything like that it will be a Jeep" yep, QUOTE!

He’s regretting it a little now…

When I was ready to get a car of my own there weren't any inexpensive and good condition Jeeps to choose from. I ended up with the Gray Ghost, a 1989 Toyota pickup. The Ghost lasted me through college and two years in Seattle, as well as umpteen years with Trainer.

Since the Ghost I have driven a 3/4 ton Chevy 4x4 and three Nissan Xterras.

I liked my first Xterra, LOVED my second, but could not get over number three being a replacement. Number two has the best story I will tell at another time.

After last year being so miserable I have looked for any way to cleanse the bad mojo. Clifford (number three) was an easy target. He was gained due to unfortunate circumstance and was never really my friend. In fact, I HATED driving Clifford.

Last year I HATED to drive anywhere. Now I’m like a teenager begging for a reason to get out of the house. Shell gasoline has made a mint since June 1!!!

Beevo has brought back my enjoyment of Texas Country as well. Driving down a Texas highway listening to Red Dirt Music cranked up over the sound of the wind is pure. For a few minutes/hours everything is right in the world.

The best part of owning Beevo is that it can literally change my mood in an instant.  If I am cranky and someone asks me about my Jeep I smile and express how much I love it! I can’t help it. I could be ready to kill someone and BAM! It’s like being hit over the head with a happy stick. It is probably the best stress management tool I’ve ever invested in.  

The evenings in the last couple of weeks have blessed Southeast Texas with incredible weather for a Jeep girl.

After two weeks plus of solid rain it was about time!

One night last week, after a night with the girls, I realized the air was fairly dry and cool, so down went the top. Believe it or not, but I actually woke up the next morning with a smile on my face for the first time in days. I can't get over how great it feels to have the wind in my hair. I don't even mind the tangles anymore. Of course great hair products help.

I have been blessed with so many great things in the last 34 years, but being able to make my own dream come true is something I am most proud of.

I didn't ask permission. I actually didn’t tell anyone until I had the keys in my hand.

In all honesty, I would have been happy driving a Jeep when I was younger, but I appreciate the fact I have worked hard and earned this bit of happiness for myself. It wasn’t just handed to me.

Hopefully I can drive Beevo back to the Northwest next summer and then Mighty won’t regret his statement so many years ago.

I jam the inspiration song for this blog it in the evenings driving around Texas. I always have my blue jeans on and my toes are unoppressed (new word) by shoes. Ok, I have flip flops on, but you get the visualization!

Here is to the last few days of summer for most of us! I hope you can find a simple joy that brightens your day with just a mention of its existence.

Inspiration Song…Barefoot Blue Jeans Night by Jake Owens

Pants on the Ground

I'm in love!!!

No, it is not a man. Although there is one man that given the chance I would (another story for another day).

I'm in love with yoga pants. Yes, yoga pants.  

I never in my life thought I would ever say those words. They were always for “skinny” girls. My legs and bottom would “never” look good enough in a pair of yoga pants. Then I started working. I literally worked my hind-end off and feel comfortable sporting a nice pair of workout pants.

There really is nothing like a good pair of yoga pants to lounge in, to exercise in, or just to be in. Thank you Nike for sparking the flame towards women’s workout gear and the dri-fit era.

There are companies popping up all over with comfortable-fit gym-appropriate clothes. Shoot, Tide laundry detergent has even teamed with Febreeze in a line of soap to help with the sweat smell in workout clothes (I use it regularly, daily)

This may come as a huge surprise, but I am not a huge fan of Lululemon. For me the brand seems made more for the smaller breasted women. Obviously this is not a problem I have. I know I said yoga pants and not tops, but I needed to throw my two cents in about Lulu. I have not tried on a pair of pants. Mostly because I’m scared I will like them. I already have a fabulous love with another brand.

Before that I need to mention Lucy. Lucy is a great brand for a couple reasons. The clothes are super comfortable AND the tops have a little extra fabric that acts to suck in the gut! It’s a nice bonus for those just starting out and not 100% comfortable with their bodies yet. I was fortunate that TMAM was able to hand me down her old pants and tops. This speaks to the quality, because they survived a year with her and a year with me. I am sending them on to SandPile and I have no doubt they will last with her.

My biggest love of the exercise clothes/yoga pants is Athleta.

Let me repeat, I LOVE Athleta.

Their tops have a lot of support for larger women and are just plain comfortable. I have (gasp!) even used a couple tops without a bra. Maybe a little TMI, but they really do hold up. I wouldn’t try running without a sports bra, but for just chilling out, not problemo.

The colors are fun too; lots of purple and turquoise. The fabric stretches, but maintains the natural shape of the body. Some might not like this, but it’s in a flattering light. Even my ginormous calves and legs look good in these things!

It doesn’t hurt that Athleta is tied into Gap Co. and in turn Banana Republic. If you know me at all, you know I have an addiction to BR. So, when I can use my BR card, which has always been figured into my monthly budget, it is a win-win.

Some think it’s ridiculous to spend a ton of money on workout clothes. My argument is this…I LIVE in them. I am fortunate my job allows me to wear workout pants to work. And as much time as I spend in the gym or lounging around I need quality.

The clothes I buy need to hold up to sweat and movement and infinite washings. The fabric has to be sturdy to not stretch out at the first sign of water. Nothing more embarrassing than pulling your pants up while running 6.5 mph on the treadmill!

No, I think of spending money on my exercise clothes as an investment. You wouldn’t think twice of spending $100 on shoes, right? That is important equipment. The clothes are the same. Yes, it’s mostly a vanity thing, but as I said, you don’t want to be pulling up your pants while running!

NO PANTS ON THE GROUND!

Whichever brand you choose wear it proudly. You work hard. You have put time in on your body to make it better today than it was yesterday.

Find something that you feel comfortable in and make it a motivator to get your hind-end up and moving. Ok, obviously your health should be the major motivator, but a pair of pants never hurts.

Have fun my friends! Wear bright colors and express yourself! Love yourself! Treat your closet!

Inspiration song…Pants on the Ground by General Larry Platt