Eating six times a day and working out three or four days a week has become second nature. I actually look forward to going to the gym. I am in a constantly good mood (most of the time). My energy doesn’t crash in the afternoon any longer. Oh, yeah, and I’ve lost a few inches and pounds… not a bad side effect either. At this point, the bikini competition that used to seem like a faraway idea is starting to cross my mind more frequently. It’s becoming a bit more… well, real. Each time I look at a glass of white wine and feel the urge to drink a bottle of the stuff… I think about that tiny swimsuit. I set a countdown calendar on my phone and look at it daily… 65 days until the competition. 65 days until I’m up on a stage in front of family and friends (and strangers!) strutting (hopefully strutting… and not clumsily stomping about with my shoulders slouched and head down) in barely anything, painted/tanned orange-ish, and wearing a pair of lucite heels. Holy moly… can I do this? Stacey {my nutrition/training/motivation guru} continues to remind me that I can. I hope (really, really hard) that she’s right.
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Kirsten Ely - Week 3
Kaitland Ely - Week 3
Kirsten Ely - Week 2
I now remember what it is like to feel sore. Incredibly sore. The kind of sore that is making me sacrifice my normal fashionable shoe choice and seriously consider some Kirkland brand sneakers that fasten with Velcro. At least then I wouldn’t have to bend over so much. Alright, kidding aside (I definitely haven’t sacrificed my high heels), I am actually sore. Very, very sore. The irony is that the sorer I am, the stronger I feel. Each lunge, every bicep curl, and every minute of cardio that is contributing to the ache in my body… is also contributing to its newfound strength. On Monday, I saw my biceps and triceps… for the first time. Ever. For a 6’1” (and ¾, I might add) girl with stick-like arms, this was an incredible accomplishment. I flexed proudly in the mirror at the gym (I finally felt as if I {kind of} belonged in this room full of totally in shape individuals) and Stacey snapped a picture on her phone. Then she put it on Facebook. On display for everyone. And the outpouring of support and encouragement and inspirational comments motivated me further. Stacey showed me that she believed in me… again. I almost forgot how sore I was. Almost.