Hollywood

I was searching and searching for this last night on my way from the airport; scanning the dark hills on the car ride over, feeling that magic that LA makes you feel, the possibilities, the imagination, the place where people come to make their dreams come true.


I woke up this morning and looked out my hotel room and there she was!

I've been to LA before but I don't remember being this starstruck, especially by a sign!

The premiere is later on this afternoon, I will be tweeting as I go! @christieo

For now it's time for sprints on the treadmill then breakfast!

I'm Thankful for My White Tappy Shoes After All

I've been thinking a lot about motherhood lately and how mothers really are our every day heroes because I look at my own mother and everything she had done and I started to realize that it's not until I became a mother myself that I actually started to "get it" and feel bad about the schmuck I sometimes was growing up. And that's why I think this letter is long overdue.


Mom,

I didn't understand when you wouldn't let me have the black patent leather "tap shoes" when you had already bought me white.

I didn't understand why you wouldn't give me 20 bucks every time I wanted to go out with my friends to the movies.

I didn't understand why you made me come home at 11 when all my other friends went home at 12.

I didn't understand why you were so upset when I waltzed in at 4 in the morning that one time (for the record, I'd have slapped me too.)

I didn't understand why you got mad at all my whining, which just got louder when my friends were around.

I didn't understand why you wouldn't let me stay home alone that summer when I thought I was old enough.

I didn't understand how money didn't grow on trees in our backyard, why you "had your reasons" and what those reasons were.

I didn't understand how hard you worked to make our family work.

I didn't understand what kind of soul-searching you must have done as a mother, but more importantly, as a woman, or the depth of either.

I didn't understand how much work it really was (because on the outside you made it look so easy.)

I didn't understand it back then but I'm going to be 35 this year and now I have children of my own. I have little tiny heart attacks when they fall, flee, dart, or when a second goes by and I don't see them in my line of vision and my heart stops until that next second when I spot them. I want to wrap them up in bubble wrap, put a thousand tiny orange traffic cones around them to stop some parts of the outside world from penetrating their tiny beautiful, open minds. I think you were generous with 11 o'clock because right now I think 7 is late. I think you were generous for not calling the police that one night and I hope you know now how grateful I am that you bought me patent leather shoes at all.

I understand now. I understand all of it. And I love you.

You were the first to wear a cape in my life.

The Handshake

Whoever said Twitter was a colossal time sucker and I won't entirely disagree has never found themselves on a couch at almost 9 o'clock at night still needing to do a 6 mile run.

Of course, in an act of overwhelming desperation and the feeling of wanting to put on my pj's rather than workout clothes after the long day I had, I found the need to turn to Twitter where I put one tiny tweet out into the universe expecting really nothing back.

christieo: alright people, it's almost 9, i need to run 6 miles. MOTIVATION PLEASE. 


about 12 hours ago via web

Instead, I got this back:

And so because I couldn't simply put, "Nevermind." in a tweet and close the computer down and feel good about myself for doing so, I simply turned my brain off, put my workout clothes on and dragged it to the gym.

Where I promptly began my 6 mile run.

I watched Elizabeth Edwards tell her story on Larry King (man, she got screwed! That sucks, she went through so much and she's such a nice lady!)

Then I watched a "Bizography" about George Foreman and his awesome grill (we have two) and how he made at least triple from that grill than he did as a boxer and how all his kids are named George (or Georgette) and it's because he found out the truth about who his biological father was later in life and he never wanted his children to feel like they didn't have or know the truth about their father and how he got into so much trouble before he became a boxer and still did after becoming a boxer but then one day he found God. It was a great story.

Somewhere around the part where I learned about George naming all his children, "George," I saw my neighbor. He was wrapping up and heading out and it was about 10 o'clock and I turned down my I-Pod because he was walking toward me and I cheerily said, "Hi!" as if I were not completely out of breath, which I was. And he said, "Hi," and it was a quiet "Hi," and he stuck his hand out and he shook my hand and that was it. He left.

Of course I expected a little neighborly chit-chat even though I was pretty sure I couldn't hold a conversation at that point but somehow the handshake said more.

He'd seen me running around the neighborhood and when he walks his dogs past my house, usually asks about my running or how it's going and he had donated to my little treadmill stint for Team In Training.

So I'm not sure if the handshake meant, "Nice to see you," and it probably did and very possibly could have.

But to me, since nothing else was exchanged, the handshake at that moment said, "GREAT JOB. I KNOW IT'S 10 P.M. AND YOU DIDN'T WANT TO COME HERE OR TRAIN FOR YOUR MARATHON/TRIATHLON BUT YOU ARE HERE. AND I'M SHAKING YOUR HAND FOR DRAGGING YOUR BUTT OFF THE COUCH AND COMING. BECAUSE THIS MEANS YOU ARE DEDICATED, EVEN IF SOMETIMES IT DOESN'T FEEL LIKE IT."

I didn't even realize the handshake meant all those words until I wrote it down just now, really, but it did and I love how just a kind gesture can speak volumes.

That handshake gave me the energy to go another 30 minutes because at that point I was getting ready to shorten my run.

But I didn't shorten it.

I finished. And then I got back to Twitter and I saw that my friend finished her intervals because we said, "You jump, I jump," and I sent out a "thank you" and an update about having finished and felt good that I didn't let down all the rest of my Twitter friends who gave me that extra push I so badly needed.

You see, the story is not about the run itself.

It almost never is.

My Best Friend Tara Costa Part I: The Journey

Maybe it's a little too soon in our relationship to be BFF's but I got a chance to chit-chat with Tara Costa last week, one of the finalists for Biggest Loser Season 7 and the at-home winner, and we had so many things in common that I really do think we might be friends in real life if we lived in the same city and if she didn't think I was creepy for saying that out loud.

You might be wondering what me and my best friend Tara Costa talked about but honestly I had so many questions, I kept firing one after the other! I probably could have talked with her all day! I wanted to know about the ranch. I wanted to know about her life battle with obesity. How she overcame it in her mind. I wanted to know if she, like me, had any "rock bottom" moments. What made her keep going.

I wanted to know how it felt to pull a freakin' car. (Remember this? Shera, Princess of Power!)

She didn't even seem to mind that I kindasorta called her a "badass" right out of the starting gate. Friends are cool like that.

Tara has inspired me in so many ways and so many times and yes, I think she's pretty badass. Her mental toughness is amazing, her will is powerful and the idea that you can do anything radiates from her being and spreads from person to person like wildfire.

During season 7, (the one with all my favorites--Helen, Michael, Ron, Daniel) I was about half-way through my own weight-loss journey and I was getting tired of it. I watched her win challenge after challenge after challenge and I felt like I was literally along for that sort of soul-searching ride that someone else is on and all of a sudden one day you see their face light up and you realize they've figured it all out. I, probably like you if you were watching, witnessed that. She inspired me to believe that one day I might get to that place.

Rock Bottom. Everyone Has One.

What struck a chord with me most during our conversation was our talk about "rock bottom." For me, it was a picture of myself at a birthday party holding my 3 month old son.


Because rock bottom moments are the worst. They're heartbreaking. They're necessary. But they become the lowest point in your memory and when you realize you are currently at rock bottom, it hurts in such an unimaginable way because you have no idea where on earth to go from there. They're pivotal in life so I've learned to appreciate them, but it doesn't make them easier.

Tara's rock bottom moment came one night when she went out to a club in New York City for her friend's birthday. They piled out of a cab and her group stood in line waiting to go in. "I’m the last girl walking in, the bouncer closes the red velvet rope and wouldn’t let me in, says 'Sorry, we’re at capacity,'” she remembered.

"I felt the lump in my throat, holding back the tears," she told me, and then she recanted how she fled in a cab back toward her apartment, making one quick pitstop along the way to pick up her best friend Ben and Jerry's and Milano cookies.

That was it.

She said she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror with the mascara and the tears running down her face and she looked down at her good old standby comfort foods and she thought, "This is it. This is why I'm fat." And she dumped the cookies and ice cream in the trash after drowning them in water first so she wouldn't go back to them.

She was over 300 pounds at that point. "I realized I really needed help," she said and decided to explore all the options from a trainer and a nutritionist to gastric bypass, lap band surgeries, all of it. Then lo and behold! Within a week and a half she saw an open casting call for The Biggest Loser in New York and well, we all know what happened after that.

Can you believe the timing? Amazing how that happens.

At the ranch, Tara lost 155 pounds. She won nearly every challenge on the ranch, even beating out the men. So I asked her if there was any one point on the ranch where she started to believe in herself and what was that moment like?

She told me there was one moment she remembers where she was by herself around the time of the car pulling episode. When there were a few weeks left of competition, she got up early one morning on a day they weren't taping and she hiked to the top of the mountain at the ranch and as she's standing on the top looking around her and no one was around, she thought, "This is amazing!" And she raised her her hands up in the air and thought, "Look at me now! I did this, I pulled this car, I’m here right now! I’m finally changing my life!” she said.

BACK TO REALITY

When it was time for Tara to head home, she knew she had to figure out how to fit the Biggest Loser life into her real life at home. “From that point, it spanned to 'ok I’m changing my life', how do I keep it up once I leave?” She wanted to be everything to everyone and had always put everyone else first. Sound familiar?

"I realized now that to be the best for everyone else, I need to be the best for me first.” And she thought to herself, “Why can’t you believe that you’re worth more?” 

Because it's true, we just don't believe in putting ourselves first. We don't believe that we're worth putting first, and on top of it we don't believe in ourselves enough in general.

I personally don't want to be that way anymore. My best friend Tara Costa doesn't want to be that way anymore. Because eventually, it's what gets you to 200 and 300 pounds.

A few months after heading home, Tara ran the New York City marathon which was like closing a chapter of a really long book. Because as she ran it, she passed her old wing joint, Chinese restaurant, her old apartment and all her old haunts, it was all about "letting go of my past," she said.

Since then, she's done a couple of sprint and olympic distance triathlons, one with former Biggest Loser contestants in San Francisco where she won another challenge, (even off the ranch! Does her awesomeness ever end?! The answer is no.) by coming in first out of the Biggest Loser contestants and winning a cool 25-grand from Brita. (Nice.)

Next step for Tara? Ironman. Yep. A 140.6. She talks on her blog about riding 100 miles across Long Island like it's nothing, really. I mean, just a leisurely stroll, really, right?

"I want to show people that you can," she says. But I'm pretty sure she's already shown that 100 million times over and you can bet she'll inspire me again in my own quest for a 140.6 (one day. Perhaps?)

Anyway. Thanks, Tara, for the chat. You inspire me.

Ps. Your cape is showing.

Mantra Mondays Making a Comeback.

When I first began Mantra Mondays at my previous blog, Baby Tea Leaves, it was because I needed to inspire myself. On a daily basis.

I needed to start my week on a good note and I needed find myself a mantra to keep me going. I needed to set myself up for success.

I loved doing Mantra Monday so much and many of you joined me and I loved reading your mantras, they inspired me too. Then, Mantra Monday took a short hiatus, but when some of you e-mailed me about bringing it back, I got all excited like Jojo the idiot circus boy with a pretty new pet! Because I still need all those things, maybe now more than ever. And I believe we need each other to fuel inspiration.

Because inspiration is like a big furnace that needs constant attention and fuel to stay lit. When the inspiration runs out, the fire runs out and it's hard to keep firing up the furnace all on your own. You run low on fuel, you run low on energy, you need partners. You need those little sparks of inspiration to keep that fire lit.

At least I do.

So starting next week, I'm going to bring back Mantra Mondays, won't you join me? Grab a button on the sidebar, post about it and you can link up your entry in the comments so we can visit each other. Your mantra can be anything, from lyrics from a song, to just one word, to movie lines, whatever you can use for whatever purpose you need it for. Starting the week off with a mantra full well knowing what is "planned" ahead for the week can help you face whatever you're about to face head on. And then a little extra when life throws something unexpected at you.

Hope to see you next week and each Monday after! Happy Mantra Monday!