Turino Fitness

Because it's all connected.


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About that time I slipped into disordered eating.

triathlon1Sometimes, when I look back at the pictures from this summer, I get a little mmm… confused. I don’t recognize that woman in the picture.

And it’s not just because I was 25 pounds lighter (I don’t have a scale, so it could be more.) It’s because the way she was in the world is SO different than the way I am in the world now.

I want to hug her and tell her that her worth isn’t determined by her size, her fitness level, her ability to conquer long distances, or by anything on the outside.
Her worth is determined simply because she is. Simply is. She is a gift. An essential part of the whole. Loved. Cherished. Seen.

If you are wrestling with your size in relation to your worth. I want to tell you something important. Feeling well in my soul helped me to feel good in my skin. And it didn’t, doesn’t, have ONE THING to do with having cellulite or not having cellulite, being cut or being soft, being fit or out of shape.

Feeling well in my soul came from simply loving the gift that is me. My body is just the shell that holds me. I take care of it because it is a beautiful gift. Taking care of myself springs from my self love.
But there are no expectations on treating myself to wellness anymore. No limitations either.

I eat whole food.
I drink a lot of water.
I move my machine in a way that pleases me.
And my body – my spirit – my mind has found balance.

Join me for The Eat Whole Foods, Drink More Water, Move Your Body Month. And invite your friends. Because you, they, WE are worth it.

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Tell ‘Overwhelm’ to Get Bent

“Ban OVERWHELMED from your vocabulary. Refuse it entry to your psyche.”

This was what I heard in a podcast a couple of years ago by Danielle LaPorte.  Then she said,

“I think when people use the word OVERWHELM, they are hanging out in EGO.”

Wait…WHAT?? My jaw hung open a bit. Here’s the deal…I pretty much used to hang out in Overwhelm. There was a Barcolounger with my name on it at the corner of Stress and Busy-ness.

You too?

Ahimsa invites to explore balance. It invites us to see if we can find that beautiful sweet spot where shit happens and you’re like, “Yup…shit happens” versus running around like your hair is on fire yelling,

“OHMYGODWHATTHEHELLEVERYTHINGISCOMINGAPARTATTHESEAMS!”

Ahimsa asks us to invite steadiness and ease not just into our asana practice, but into our life.

Imbalance and Overwhelm set us up for violence – towards ourselves or others. And EVERY DAY life offers up situations to push us off of our center.

The first thing to really get ahold of is that inviting balance isn’t a head thing. You can’t think, plan, organize, file, highlight or collate your way to balance (believe me I’ve tried <cough, cough Virgo>.)

Balance is a gut thing.

It’s the small voice within that if you push a microphone up to it and really listen says things like,

  • “No thank you! I have too much on my plate.”
  • “I’m tired.”
  • “I need some time to myself.”
  • “Get me out of here.”

And that sweet voice needs to be heard and honored. Because when it’s ignored, it will create the groundwork for disharmony, discord, disconnection, dis-ease…for all of the dis’s.

When you invite balance, you start listening and honoring the needs of your SELF.  Then, the elusive Balance will light on your shoulder like a butterfly. And when it comes, your inner voice will sing.

“Balance creates harmony within us, and harmony within naturally expresses itself in external actions that are harmonious,” writes Yamas & Niyamas author Deborah Adele.

Yes. May we all find our center, our breath, our steady, our ease and allow for Ahimsa.

…Come sweet Balance. Light on my shoulder. I’ll create the space and I will honor you. Through balance, let Ahimsa flourish within me and through me…

Namaste, Sarah


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Dancing with the Devil

There’s this amazing woman and great writer – her name is Wendy and her blog is called Athletic Monkey.  Check her out. She wrote this incredible post that just made me well up.  It’s called The Bucket List. Thanks Wendy for sharing your story, inspiring others, and giving me the courage to write my story. Lately, I’ve had the devil scratching at the door a little more loudly because…you know…I’m older, do NOT have a perfect body, and am teaching fitness classes to people who may (or may not) look at me closely and may (or may not) judge what they see. It’s hard to keep the voices from screaming and taking over…so…here we go.  My dance with the devil:

My whole life I didn’t have to think about weight – I was tall and naturally thin.  And yet it was always swirling around me.  “You’re so thin!”  My tongue-in-cheek mom, “Skinny bitch.”  So, though I didn’t have to ‘think’ about it, I was always dealing with people’s perceptions of my weight.  My mom, like so many women, struggled with her weight, self-image, and would try various diets and exercise.  But our family life was (understatement here) challenging and she and I would self soothe over some potato chips – sour cream and onion for her….barbecue for me.  (More on that later…)

Around the time I was 40, I put on some weight…what?  Now, all of the messages that I’d received clearly about how important it was to be thin started banging loudly like a gong.  Must.lose.weight.  Now you add to that that I had just had kids and felt all the weird pressure that new moms feel to ‘get back into your pre-baby pants’ and you have a person whooooooo signs up for a marathon while pregnant with her youngest daughter for 18 months later. (insert headshake here…)

But the bite wasn’t venomous yet.

The poison came when I got my fitness certification.  “Well, I have to be super fit and lean or people won’t take me seriously or want to work with me.”  Combine training for a half Ironman with some very.clean.eating and you have a very thin Sarah.  I wasn’t ‘trying’ per se.  But the day I went to get some new jeans and was a size 4 or size 6 … and I’m 5’ 9 ½”  mmmm perhaps I’d lost some weight.

I WAS DELIGHTED.  Look at me.  Look how fit I am.  Look how thin I am.  Yessssss.  Everyone, “You look GREAT!”  “You are SO thin!”  “You look AH-MAZING!”

But it was at the expense of something really important…balance and my mental health.  I wouldn’t let anything pass my lips that was contraindicated.  I wouldn’t drink any alcohol during the week.  I exercised all the time.  I’d slipped off the edge of wellness.

Fall came.  My events were done.  I fell into a funk…nee depression.  I started comfort eating.  I started self-loathing.  I started feeling like a loser because I couldn’t control myself or my urges.  I drank wine and ate bag after bag of barbecue potato chips in front of the television set.

I was a TRAINER what was WRONG WITH ME?  What a LOOOOOSER.

I gained back the weight.  All of it.  And maybe then some.

I looked up in the spring and was freaked out.  It was shorts weather!  I was going to be teaching people soon.  I HAD TO LOSE WEIGHT!!!!

It was around this time that I realized that I was dipping my toe into something dangerous…something powerfully addictive…something that felt sticky and gross.

I read a book that changed my whole self – inside and out.  It was called “Women, Food & God” by Geneen Roth.  From that moment forward, I tried really hard to slay my dragons.  I try every day, to be in touch with myself and eat accordingly and give myself what I need.  I also try to model listening to my body for my girls.  Because if you tune in, it tells you when you’re hungry and when you’re full.  If you listen, you can tell when you are calling out for comfort…instead of potato chips.

But it’s hard work.  And as a 46 year old mom of two young girls, it is a worthy battle for me and for them.  And I will stand up for my beautiful self in the face of all of the bullshit society and marketers shovel every.damn.day.  Because I’m worthy.  My health (mental and physical) and wellness are worth it.  And that wellness is about being ABLE TO MOVE.  It’s about BEING DURABLE.  It’s about feeling STRONG AND ABLE.  It’s not about the size of my damn pants.

Peace.  Sarah


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You’re Worth It.

Once upon a time, my kids were little – 2 years old and newborn little.  Around the time I had the first one, I immersed myself in trying to figure out WHAT THE HELL I WAS DOING.  I didn’t know anything about being a mother, let alone being a ‘good’ mother and the learning curve was STEEP and there was no manual.

When you’re in that situation, you get a bit mmmmmyopic about what you’re doing.  Because it’s survival mode for you AND this wee one/s that are in your care.

Everything else, for me anyhow, got swept aside.  Everything.  Else.

I wished I could have been like those other mothers who appeared to be able to do it all – work, be great wives, be great friends, work out (?), and LOOK GOOD while meeting the needs of their babies (some moms even had their hair done and lipstick on…how did they DO THAT?)  I was not one of those women.

Frankly, I could barely remember to brush my teeth, shave my legs, and…shower even. 121-2125_IMGMe…probably unshowered and preggers.

Around the time I was pregnant with my second child, I went to a mom/kid class.  The teacher asked the class, “What do you do for yourself?”  I had to get up and leave the room.  Because for two years I hadn’t done anything for myself.  It was upsetting for me.  Where was Sarah in this whole parenting thing?  Where did she go?  Who was she?  Who was she now?

Anybody else feel like this?

I didn’t know what to do.  I didn’t know how or where to start.  I just knew that I needed a little something – not much, just a little something – for my own beautiful self.  And after my second baby came and my head came up a little, I chose running.

Just so you know…I was not a long-distance runner.  Ever.  Sprinter, yes.  Distance, no.  Super hard and uncomfortable and I was often looked at with concern chugging down the street.  (Honestly…this probably still happens…haha!)

My sweet husband would come home and I’d have my running shoes on and hand the babies over and yell, “PEACE OUT!” on my way out the door.  I even hired a babysitter once a week, so I could go for a run and then treat myself to an iced tea.

All little steps toward reclaiming a little part of myself that I had lost.

It doesn’t have to be babies.  It can be lots of things – work, relationships, busy-ness that cause us to forget our beautiful selves.  Or, maybe we were never taught to pay attention to our needs or how to give ourselves the gift of self-care.

You’re worth it.

You are so damn worth it.

You are worthy.

Self-care comes in a lot of different forms.  What makes you feel good?  What makes your well get full/er?  What can you offer yourself that reminds you of yourself and how IMPORTANT you are to your world?  That reminds you that you need care!?

Whatever it is.  Please, do it.  Because you are worth it.

*Cup of tea, good book.

*Walk.

*Fresh air.

*Exercise.

*Time with friends.

*Time with partner.

*Massage.

*Facial.

*Really.Nice.Lotion.

*Bubble baths.

*Meditation.

*Leisurely perusing a book store.

Whatever it is.  Carve out a little space for yourself and make it happen.  And then, pay attention to how good it feels to treat yourself nicely and give yourself what you need.  Why?

Because you’re worth it.

Peace, Love, Joy.  🙂  Sarah


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It’s all going south.

I like it when three completely different things present themselves to you as gifts from the Universe and they all illustrate the same thing in different ways.

First thing – A conversation with my neighbor Joan. We were talking about our parents getting older and how difficult that is for us to see. For each of us the takeaway was to MOVE AS MUCH AS WE CAN, WHILE WE CAN.

Second thing – I’m at the gym in the changing room and the beautiful women of the Water Aerobics are drying off and naked. And most of them are senior citizens. They are laughing and seemingly at home and content in their bodies. They are beautiful. They are fit. I admire them. I want to be like them when I grow up.

Third thing – a woman came to my class. Lovely, strong, full of life. She is living with Multiple Sclerosis. And when I asked the class to run down a hill, she wept. She wept because she used to be able to run down hills, and now she can’t. Now, with a determined look on her face, she concentrates on her balance and she walks down that hill. This woman was a runner, a mountain climber, a MOVER. She grieves the loss of ability in her body, and yet pushes herself to do her very best in what she CAN do.

We spend a lot of energy….wait, no, we WASTE a lot of energy disliking our bodies and wishing that they were different. So much energy wasted despising, wishing, working, coveting, loathing….

And here’s the deal people. It’s all going south. For each and every one of us eventually….it’s all going south. Eventually the skin sags around the muscle and things loosen up. Unless you are going to get a body lift (is there even such a thing?) it’s coming for all of us…

So when are we going to love ourselves? Love this shell that we’ve been given that holds our beautiful selves? Take care of it, move it, stretch it…but moreover – be grateful that we CAN do what we do.

If we take a wider view of our beautiful selves…not so myopic on our bellies, butts, jiggly arms, sagging jowels and zoomed out a bit. Maybe we could see how lovely we are as a whole. How nice it is to be right where we are…right here, right now.

Love the body you’re in. It’s part of wellness. Let go of the blaming, shaming, self-disgust, frustration. Embrace love, admiration, celebration and delight.

Please. And please stop letting marketing and sales geniuses define what beautiful is. It’s crap. Healthy? Yes. Eating well because it contributes to your wellness? Yes. Moving because it makes you feel good inside and out? Yes. But dieting yourself into submission because people say that’s what size you ‘should’ be? No. Working out obsessively because you want to look like xyz? No.

It’s all going south people.

Until then. Love your beautiful selves. Be grateful. Delight in yourself. Focus on health and wellness. Spread love around to others….and to yourself.

Peace,
Sarah


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The House with Four Rooms

Take a ride if you will with me in the wayyyback machine – back to 1988. AAAAHHH! I was in college and besides having larger than normal hair, I was balancing 3-4 jobs, going to school full time and… searching for something.

It took me a good 25 years to find it, but what happened on a particular day in 1988 stuck with me.

I lived in a house with many young women and, as you can imagine, there were many boys coming and going from this house.

One of these boys, threw me a lifechanger.

I was 19 years old, and he threw me something that has hung with me for all this time. I don’t remember who he was, or if he was there with me or a roommate. I don’t remember his name or any details except for what he told me.

What he said was, “Sarah – a human is like a house made up of four rooms. Physical. Emotional. Intellectual. Spiritual. And those rooms must be aired out each day.”

Umm….. YES. YES. YES.

Yes.

We are like houses made up of four rooms:

Physical – Get out and move your body in a way that pleases you each day. Delight in the complex, amazing, beautiful you. Stretch. Walk. Hug. Move.

Emotional – Share of your beautiful self with others and open yourself to receiving the gift of others. Share air. Share thoughts. Share time. Share your gifts. Love freely.

Intellectual – Read things that challenge you, inspire you, teach you. Try new things. Go new places. Learn about different people, different cultures. Travel. Eat different food. Talk to people about things that make you think. Ask questions. Be a lifelong learner.

Spiritual – Connect with the Divine in a way that makes sense to you and resonates with you. Feel the deep connection with each other and with the collective. Open yourself up to the big mystery – LOVE. Quiet your mind so that you can feel it, hear it, and be one with it.

And all of these rooms need to be opened up and aired out every day. For balance. For harmony. For connection. For wholeness.

So – dear, sweet boy whose face I don’t remember, name I don’t remember, reason we were having this deep conversation in my rental house on Wright St. in Marquette, Michigan circa 1988 that I don’t remember…

Thank you. Thank you for teaching me something that I’ve tried to honor as best as I could, all of my life. I hope others will benefit from your wisdom as much as I did.

Peace,
Sarah