The Sound of Settling

Some girls crave a night out with the girls after a hard day. Others need to buy something pretty to make them feel better about life. Still others turn to food as a way to fill the void and make them feel a little less stressed.

I've tried all of these methods.

But I forgot how much simply being out in nature comforts me.

Moving back to Santa Barbara has been really good, but really hard at the same time. I don't have time to feel lonely, so that's not the issue. As soon as I moved back, I took on three jobs, joined two different gyms and have been trying to manage keeping straight A's in my courses.

So far, it has been mostly easy. But then there are days like today. Days when I should be driving to the airport to board a plane and land in Seattle to spend my birthday weekend with the love of my life and my wonderful parents.

Then the storm hits and I spend the morning skipping class to try to figure out how to fix the damage that is a cancelled flight followed by another cancelled flight. It makes me anxious and upset. I easily could have spent the morning in bed watching Bones and feeling sorry for myself. Instead, I put on my shorts and walked out the door.

It was perfect weather and the sky was clear. I hiked 11 miles in the backcountry of Santa Barbara and I feel so much more relaxed.

My friend's husband is a neurosurgeon. He is in the process of writing a book about the brain and how nature influences your intelligence.

I truly think exploring a new trail or seeing a new sight is exhilarating and therapeutic to me.

I encourage you to find that thing that calms you down and helps you reanalyze your life and how good we have it. I can fret about not being able to spend the evening with my boyfriend, but ultimately, I am able to see him eventually. Some people are not as fortunate; they are stolen from their families, lose a loved one to cancer or live on a different continent.

Remember where you are and how good your life really is. Don't settle for feeling bad about your day. Turn your frown upside down and find a way to spend some time doing the things that make you that irrisistable, one-of-a-kind beauty.

That's all.

(Drops the mic)

Three Tarantulas and a Bear Enter a Race (Part 4)

We have all seen it done in the films: Men and women lined up against the inside of an airplane, suited up and ready to jump. This is what I pictured when the employee told me I would squat and she would strap into my harness with me. My jump looked a lot different than what I had imagined.

When the van pulled up to the airstrip, the hefty pilot shuffled his extra jiggle out of the driver's seat and the entire van moved with the weight displacement. Glancing over at Nick, I could sense his unease. His face was lacking color and his eyes were alert. I touched his hand and he looked at me with a forced smile. As the instructor droned on about his brother competing in his first triathlon, I could tell Nick wasn't listening. His one fear is heights and I was forcing him to kick that fear in it's atm-ass-phere.

Looking around the strip, I only saw one plane. It was a single seater, no way was it ours. The moment I denied its purpose was the same moment the pilot opened the door and heaved himself inside.

Oh bugger.

Nick's instructor crawled in after from the other side. Nick followed him and I wondered how anyone else would be able to get inside. As I held the door up in the air, feeling its force pushing down on me, my instructor climbed inside and I followed suit.

The insides of the airplane had been completely stripped, except for the pilot's seat. The ground, the walls: All that was left was the aluminum framing. We were smashed in; Nick's back pressed against his instructor's chest, my foot in Nick's lap, my armpit on his instructor's ear (after a race... I'm sure he loved that smell) and my instructor's legs under mine. It was what some may refer to as a "tight squeeze".

I reached across Nick's instructor to grab my boyfriend's hand. He looked out at the ocean of Pismo Beach then tweaked his neck backward like an owl to look at me and give me a nervous smile. "You got this," I urged and giggled, half out of nervousness that I might be the cause of my boyfriend's death, half out of trying to comfort him.

The pilot suddenly dropped the plane toward the earth and our stomach's followed Newton's Law Of Motion while our body's followed the principles of gravity. He twisted right and tilted left as far as he could without turning the airplane on its head. I felt like I was in the first scene of 007: Spectre.

"The jump will be twenty times worse than that," someone said. That someone may have been me. Probably not going to win the award for Most Comforting Girlfriend of 2015.

As we gained altitude, I felt the tap on my shoulder. It was time. I placed my hand on the ceiling so as not to bump my head when I shifted my bodyweight onto my toes and came into a very low crouch. The instructor strapped into my harness then we eased our way to the open door and I sat on the ledge, feet hanging from the plane. I felt the wind resistance threatening to pull me out of the plane, but my instructor, despite her size, had a lot of strength. She kept me seated on the edge then I felt her rock me back and forth three times before we dove forward, head first toward the earth. We didn't stop tilting though; I saw the plane three separate times as I somersaulted through the sky. When we finally straightened out, I could feel my cheeks lifting upward toward the sun as my body left them behind.

We soared through the sky, performed tricks, waved to Nick as he did the same. The background was golf courses, dehydrated fields and ocean as far as we could see.

My instructor pointed to the original lot where we parked. It was a third of the size of my high school football field. She labeled it our "landing spot" then let out our parachute. Our college frat friends were back and "Free Falling" was shaking the speakers of their Volvo. As the harness pulled on every inch of my pelvic girdle, I lifted my legs and we landed with a heavy thud on the uneven dirt.

I watched as Nick and his instructor did the same.

"We just jumped out of a plane," he said, as if I had been napping through the entire thing. "I have to call my mom!"

Three Tarantulas and a Bear Enter a Race (Part 3)

As Lopez Lake became just a dot in my rearview mirror, my cell phone chirped, letting me know I had regained Sprint coverage. There was a voicemail waiting for me.

“Hello, Ashlee. The forecast is calling for rain tomorrow. Can you come in this afternoon? Call us when you can.”

I called, trying to avoid using vocabulary that might allow Nick to put the puzzle pieces together.

This is Ashlee, you left me a voicemail… Yes, I see how that could be a problem… Could we come in 20 minutes?... Great! See you soon!”

“Nick, we are making a side trip,” I told him.

“Where are we going,” he inquired.

“Don’t worry about it,” I tried to sound sly, but he knew exactly what we were going to do.

We pulled into a parking lot in a sketchy part of town. My bike was locked to the top of my car, but I didn’t know how safe it was to assume it would be there when I returned. This was not Montecito.

“Are we skydiving?” I couldn’t surprise my boyfriend with anything. He knew exactly what we were doing.

As we walked around the strip mall searching for the building, a woman with colorful hair, inked arms and a burrito in her hand sauntered up to us. “Ya want me to take your picture in front of the skydiving sign?” Her smile was so big, I felt like she was an old friend. “Don’t worry,” she reassured. “I won’t steal your phone. I work here!”

We did our classic #whoanilee pose then followed the girl inside.

“Alright, so it’s getting windy outside,” she got serious. “We need to get you out there as soon as we can or else you may not be able to jump. Usually, we would need you to watch this safety video then fill out some paperwork, but since we are in such a rush, you can just fill out the paperwork while the movie plays in the background.”

“What is the movie,” Nick asked.

“Oh, you know, just safety stuff and how to jump. A lot of people die skydiving, so it’s important to know what to and not to do.”

“Should we be watching this, then?” I asked, nervously.

“Definitely,” she nodded her head, eyes wide, smile still on her face. “A woman recently flew out of her harness because she had her arms in the wrong position. The instructor caught her and held onto her belt the whole way down. It was a close call!”

“But we should still fill out our paperwork while watching the safety tips,” my brain was wondering how it was going to focus on both things at once.

Static played on the small television screen, followed by some tuning of the picture before a man with the most magnificent beard came onto the screen. He spoke about the importance of holding your arms and body a certain way during the jump and fall.

I read the first paragraph of the first of seven pages:

The likelihood of getting injured or dying is very likely. Initial here.

The second paragraph read:

I understand that I may lose a limb while skydiving. Initial here.

This continued for seven straight pages.

I could almost here the thoughts in Nick’s head: What has she gotten us into? This is crazy.

He was uncertain about the whole thing and it was obvious. Quietness overtook him and his body movements were rigid. I can always tell when Nick is uncomfortable in a situation. This situation was turning into the worst birthday gift ever.

The woman handed us directions to the landing pad. “Our bus already left, so you’ll have to drive yourself there. It’s not far,” she reassured us. I think she read the fear in the wrinkles of our faces. “My girlfriend and I jump all the time. It’s amazing. You’ll want to come back again and again!”

We drove out to the Middle of Nowhere, Pismo Beach. Peter Gabriel told us that the light and heat were in our eyes, but that didn’t calm us down. Both Nick and I were wondering if this was the smartest decision; I still had to race the next day and he really didn’t want to die 8 days before his 27^th birthday.

Turning past a few warehouses onto a private dead-end road made us think we may be lost. “I think that big grassy spot with the four boys was where we are supposed to go,” I told him.

“The four kids?!” he seemed astonished that I would even toy with the idea. “That frat party?! If those are the instructors, we are getting your money back.”

We drove past the boys again. They were total bros, clad in tank tops and board shorts. Gel held their hair in perfect spikes pointing from their scalp to the sky. All eight eyes turned and watched us drive past, but no one waved us over. Could that really be where we were supposed to go?

“Just pull in and we will ask,” I told Nick.

The boys danced around their car as we parked next to them.

“Are you skydiving? We just woke up this morning and our buddy opened the door and said we should do it. This is everyone’s first time,” the shortest of the frat members spoke quickly. “Have you guys done this before?! Oh, look! There are our friends!”

We watched as two parachutes danced in the air. Someone turned on Tom Petty’s Free Falling. As we watched the two jumpers land, we saw how harmless the sport looked. All of the blood was restored in Nick’s face and our lungs began taking in normal amounts of oxygen.

After the first group packed up and drove away, the instructors prepped us for the upcoming jump. The female was 5 inches shorter and 30 pounds lighter than me. She had pink streaks in her hair and gages in her ear. Listening to her talk made me yearn for adventure and freedom. The male was even shorter than she was and his gages were a size bigger. Tattoos lined every inch of visible skin. He was from Puerto Rico and I couldn’t tell if he was so quiet because he didn’t speak English or if he really just didn’t give a hoot about anything going on.

The pilot leaned up against a post smoking a cigar. “This is my last day,” he chuckled. “See you (fowl word) never.”

“What is your plan,” I asked.

“What do you mean?”

“If today is your last day, what do you plan to do next,” I clarified.

“I’m going to work at Jack in the Box.”

I laughed.

He looked at me, offended. “Really though.”

“Oh…” I couldn’t think of anything more to say.

“You a Seahawks fan? I saw your watch,” Nick saved me by changing the subject.

For the next 10 minutes, we listened to the story of how our Californian pilot became a Seahawks fan. When he finished, the instructors told us how we were going to jump. The picture she painted made me think of the jumpers seen in movies, sitting along a bench then jumping out of a decent-sized plane one-by-one.

“When I tap your shoulder, you’ll come to a squatting position onto my lap. I’ll hook into your harness then we will sit on the side of the door and rock three times before tilting forward and falling out of the plane,” she instructed. “Got it?”

It sounded easy enough.

To be continued...

Rain, Wool Socks and a Good Friend

We stood there for over an hour, occasionally shifting our body weight from leg to leg to keep the blood flowing. I gripped my coffee, hoping its heat would transfer into more than just my fingertips. She pulled her jacket tighter to her thin frame. Despite the cold weather, we stayed on the sidewalk, exposed to the elements, and we talked. One conversation would interrupt the last, not allowing that topic to come to a close. If I didn't have a test for which to prepare and if she hadn't had a piece of her forehead biopsied an hour prior, I think we would have remained in that spot on the sidewalk speaking about life until the sun had released itself from our sky. It was in that moment that I realized she was no longer my mom; she was my closest friend.

Three Tarantulas and a Bear Enter a Race (Part 2)

Nine weeks of focused training led me to this moment: Smiling with my hand on my wetsuit-clad hip, pretending that the picture being taken was the most important thing I would do all day. Nick gave me a quick good luck kiss and walked me down to the dock where people were splashing their feet and warming their bodies to prepare for the upcoming exercise.

Lining up with the other women, I put my pink swimcap over my blonde braids and looked at the athletes I was up against. Only two swimmers were in the water, the rest of the women were on the shore, conversing about breakfast and final bladder emptying. My eyes scanned the crowd: Strong women, fast women, brave women... and me. To beat these women, I would have to swim my strongest, bike my fastest and run my bravest. The challenge was in front of me and all I had to do was stretch my arms forward and grab it, one stroke, one pedal, one step at a time.

Nick stood on the dock, his overgrown blonde hair peaking from beneath his cap and his smile attempting to exit the sides of his face. I gave him a slight grin, trying not to convey the fact that I was filled with pure stokernous (what you get when you combine the emotions of being stoked and nervous at the same time. To be honest, I was ecstatic to have him there cheering me on. This would be his first time seeing me race! And I couldn't think of anyone else I would rather have kiss my lips at the finish line.

At the same time though, I was nervous. What if I got a flat tire? Or if I was the last swimmer out of the lake? Would he be disappointed that we drove all this way? That he had to take time off of work? I had to push these thoughts out of my head and remember that none of that would happen. Even if it did, it wouldn't matter because I was here to compete and to have fun doing it.

The countdown began and I looked over the water through goggled eyes. I had this.

My goal swim time was to hold a 2:26 pace and be out of the water in 38 minutes and 57 seconds. I beat that with a 2:19 pace, exiting the water in 37 minutes and 13 seconds.

I ran up the launch and into the transition area, exiting in 57 seconds less time than I had planned. Taking a big bite of dry Picky Bar while I swung my leg over my Felt DA4, I began the first climb out of the marina.

The day was perfect. Sun was shining on the earth and my tires were at the exact PSI I needed to feel strong. I passed three men on their bikes and smiled to myself. Swimming may not be my best event, but maybe I could take some people off my list on the bike. Holding an average pace of 19mph, I watched as the vineyards and volunteers encouraged me along. Then the turnaround came. It was time for some hill climbs. I turned a corner and there was a... tarantula?! Was that really a giant spider I saw or was it a rat?!? A rat would make more sense, but the furry creature definitely had more than 4 legs! Maybe I was seeing things... maybe I was pushing harder than I thought I was... but I'm pretty sure I just saw a tarantula.

The arthropod must have scared my biceps femoris, because my pedal stroke sped up a little bit and I finished the 25 mile bike portion 23 seconds under my goal time!

Transition was not as smooth between the bike and the run and my legs felt heavy as I embarked on the two lap hilly 6.2 mile course. "She's still smiling," some guys commented. "That cutie in the braids has a huge smile on her face. She must be having fun!" I whipped my head back and gave them the cheesiest, toothiest grin I could muster, then I darted away... at a much slower pace than to which the word "darting" usually refers.

When I crossed the finish line, Nick was there waiting for me with a smile and open arms. I was so excited to see him that I almost forgot to collect my medal and give my timing chip back. My boyfriend was proud of me, but more importantly, I was proud of myself. Race one down, one more to go! Knowing I had placed, we stuck around for a couple of hours and watched football and played arcade car racing games until the award ceremony.

On the drive back home, I told Nick we had to make a pit stop; little did he know I had big birthday plans up my sleeve!

Three Tarantulas and a Bear Enter a Race... Part 1

Back at it... It's only been a year. Hello, hello? Is anyone out there? Is this thing on?

Sorry I left you all. I know you have missed me greatly. There are just only so many seconds in a day yet so many workouts to fit in, patients to teach and clients to correct. But I'm here! I'm here. Don't go away!

For my 28th birthday yesterday, I decided I needed to do more of what makes me happy. Writing this blog was definitely an endorphine releaser for me. So here I am!

And not only am I back on the blog, I am back on the race scene, too.

This last weekend, the boyfriend and I drove down to California... aw, home. I took four days off of work and packed my camping gear for the best vacation ever!!!... or so I thought. Turned out we didn't camp... In fact, it turned out we didn't really vacation. We sat. And sat. Raced a little. Then sat some more. Ugh. We didn't drive the coast at all. We didn't see the Redwoods like we planned or camp along the sand as I hoped. But at least I was with Nick and he is not an eyesore.

We drove into Pismo Beach Friday afternoon and, after checking in at our friend's hotel (shout out to The Oxford! You should definitely stay there! Great hotel!), we drove (some more) out to Lopez Lake where the Scott Tinley Tri Series were to take place over the next two days.

Funny thing about Lopez Lake: There is a $10 charge per day just to get into the marina. Say what? I remembered this tidbit of information from three years ago when I last competed, so Nick and I parked outside of the gate... we thought we had them fooled. Apparently, you have to pay to park outside of the gate as well. So not worth it. Next time, I'm skydiving into the marina (we will get to that later!).

Anyway, as we turned the corner to cross over the lake, I noticed the water level was low. We all know California is going through a drought, but this looked like Wildflower 2014 all over again! The place where I usually do my practice swim is literally sand now. Just sand, not even a puddle of water! Not even a drop! They even moved part of the mountain bike course to go through that sand... worst idea ever (again, we will go over that later)!

Nick and I parked the car and rode our bikes to the packet pickup. After grabbing my two bags (oh, did I mention I did two races back-to-back. Yeah. That was something), we biked over to the sand that was once water and hiked our way to the muck and mud where dead fish were strewn across the sides. Hastily, I put on my wetsuit and looked at Nick with my squinty brown eyes. "You look huge," he said. Let's just say he will never see me in a wetsuit again!

I did my little ten minute routine, speeding up then slowing the pace. Every once in awhile, I could see my hand in the water and it looked like a catfish ready to eat me for dinner. Then the water would suddenly get warm (no, I did not wet myself) and I would flee to the shore for safety. "It's only been 7 minutes," Nick would say. Reluctantly, I would go back out again wondering if he really would be able to save me if that catfish took me under.

When my Garmin beeped ten minutes into the swim, I hustled back to the muddy bank and climbed my way through the muck and back to Nick. With eyes wide, he choked back a laugh.

"Do I have muck on my face," I inquired.

"Just a little," he stifled the giggle.

We grabbed my race packs and rode our bikes back outside the gate to the car. Gnats gnawed at our bare skin under the heat of the midday sun. Nick's patience was wearing thin. I promised him we would make the bike ride short, but that promise was unfulfilled when we were given the wrong directions for the mountain bike route. We were lost and dehydrated by the time we found the road. I told Nick I needed 30 more minutes on the trail, but I would meet him back at the car. An hour later, I found him swatting at invisible flying objects.

Not wanting to irritate him even more, I agreed to run alone from our hotel. With that, we loaded the car and cruised back to Pismo Beach.

My legs never felt the run, but my belly sure felt that delicious Italian dinner we had with Nick's friends in San Lois Obispo!

To be continued...

Flat Ab Challenge Final Week

Only a few more days until we take the tape back out and measure you up! I hope you have been working on your cardio and strength, but even if you weren't as spot on as you had hoped, I encourage you to measure and test; take those pictures! Just see the difference and maybe find a little motivation to go one step further!

Today, I am posting the final ab video. Again, there are five movements, which should each be completed for 30-60 seconds five times. I apologize for lack of a full film. My phone does not allow me to upload full films, I guess. Some people had trouble watching my last one, so I went back to the explaining version. Though they are quick explanations, you can always pause the film or write each exercise down before doing the sets on your own!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GR1PDsfZTSI&feature=youtu.be

A few weeks ago, my girlfriends and I went to see Katy Perry perform in Portland, Oregon. While in town, we ate at PF Chang's, my sister's favorite restaurant. We ordered the lettuce wraps, but as I looked down at the wrap, I couldn't help but notice all of the grease dripping off from the tip. Could this really be the healthiest option?

This week, I have found a healthy lettuce wrap, which is gluten- and dairy-free (celiacs, rejoice!).

Healthy Chicken Lettuce Cups

Recipe from Steamy Kitchen’s Healthy Asian Favorites
serves 4

INGREDIENTS

• 1 1/2 tablespoon cooking oil, such as Canola or Vegetable
• 1/2 pound ground chicken breast
• 2 shallots, sliced
• 1/4 red onion, diced
• 1 clove garlic, very finely minced
• Minced fresh chilies or jalapeno – more or less depending on how hot you like it
• 1 tablespoon fish sauce
• 1/2 lime juiced
• 1 teaspoon gluten-free soy sauce
• 1 head iceberg lettuce, leaves separated into “cups”
• 1 handful of cilantro & mint, cut into finally chopped

DIRECTIONS
Heat a wok (or large saute pan) over high heat. When hot, swirl  1 tablespoon of oil and add the ground chicken. Use your spatula to break up the meat and spread out of the surface of the pan. Cook until browned, about 3-4 minutes.
Push the ground chicken to one side of the pan and swirl the remaining 1/2 tablespoon of oil. To the oil, add the shallots, red onion, garlic, and fresh chilies and saute until fragrant, about 30-60 seconds. Add fish sauce, lime juice and gluten-free soy sauce.
Serve with lettuce cups and herbs.
Enjoy!

The Skinny On Sugar

There is this podcast I love listening to on road trips. It's called Stuff You Should Know: How Stuff Works. A recent podcast to which I listened was about how sugar works. Did you know that added sugar (aka empty calories) accounts for 16% of the yearly calories we consume? That's around 95 pounds of added sugar on average for each person every year.

In the last post, I challenged you to give up sugar for the first three days of October. Seeing as today is October 1, I hope you remembered when you prepared your breakfast this morning! If not, it's not too late! Just use the rest of the day to focus on clean, healthy eating!

Here is a recipe to start your day off right! Ani Phyo is a raw foods chef who has inspired me for years. Here is one of her recent recipes from her site: www.aniphyo.com

Warm Green Salad

• 3 cloves garlic, chopped, to taste
• 1 cup cherry tomatoes, halved
• 1 cup baby broccoli, chopped
• 1 Tablespoon coconut oil
• 2 cup romaine, chopped
• 1 cup spinach
• 1 cup arugula
• 3 Tablespoons capers
• 1/2 cup artichoke hearts

Warm up your pan on medium heat, add coconut oil and garlic. Sauté until soft. Add tomatoes and broccoli. Lightly cook, to desired consistency.
Place romaine, spinach, and arugula into a large mixing bowl. Top with cooked vegetables and toss to mix well, wilting your greens. Add capers and artichokes, and toss to mix well.
Serve and enjoy!

Flat Ab Challenge Week 3

Welcome to week 3! You have made it this far! This is a good week to check in. Re-weigh yourself, take your measurements, get some halfway photos!

A few people requested I do the full exercise in the video, so this week, you will find 30 seconds of each movement in the video. There are only five movements, each done for 30-60 seconds. Make sure you do the exercises three times with a minute break in between!

https://fbcdn-video-p-a.akamaihd.net/hvideo-ak-xfp1/v/t42.1790-2/10491403_651109341672712_158684041_n.mp4?oh=e613ea6b830722c01638fe58137c5c30&oe=542A0ACC&__gda__=1412041164_ef621d844a54e94c2d191173791e923a

Wednesday is the first of the month! Let's try a real challenge: For the first three days of the month (Wednesday-Friday), I challenge you to give up all processed foods and white sugar. Increase your intake of water, fruits and vegetables. If you get a really bad craving for sugar and just cannot stay strong, drink a glass of milk. This should help curb your cravings!

As always, here is the suggested recipe for the week. It is getting colder out due to the new season, so here is an incredible paleo chili recipe I made last week; honestly, it tasted phenomenal! I highly recommend you give it a try!

AIP Carrot and Sweet Potato “Chili”

Photo and recipe thanks to Mickey Trescott

AIP Carrot and Sweet Potato "Chili"

Prep time

30 mins

Cook time

45 mins

Total time

1 hour 15 mins

Serves: 5-6

Ingredients

• 2 tablespoons solid cooking fat
• 1 onion, chopped
• 8 cloves garlic, minced
• 1 tablespoon fresh thyme
• 2 cups carrots, cut into large chunks
• 4 cups sweet potatoes, cut into large chunks
• 4 cups bone broth
• 1 teaspoon sea salt
• 2 pounds grass-fed ground beef
• 1-2 avocados
• cilantro for garnish

Instructions

1. Heat your cooking fat in the bottom of a heavy-bottomed pot. Add the onion and cook for a few minutes, until translucent. Add the garlic and thyme and cook for another couple of minutes, stirring.
2. Add the carrots and sweet potatoes and cook for 5 minutes, or until gently browned. Add the bone broth and sea salt and bring to a boil, cover and then simmer for 20 minutes, until the vegetables are soft.
3. Meanwhile, cook the ground beef in a skillet until thoroughly cooked throughout and browned. Set aside.
4. When the vegetables are finished, add the ground beef and stir to combine. Continue cooking for another 15 minutes covered at a simmer. Serve each bowl garnished with avocado slices and fresh parsley.

Flat Ab Challenge Week 2

One week done! Onto week 2. I hope you are all feeling terrific and really focusing on what you are putting into your body and how you are promoting strong abdominals in your activities of daily life.

I have new exercises for you this week. Last week, a few people came to me and commented that they didn't know how they were supposed to perform the last group of exercises. In the video, to keep it short, I show you each movement and the basics of how to do them. After you know what you are doing, pause the video and perform one set of each of the movements for 30-60seconds/movement. It should take between 2:30-5 minutes total. After you finish, rest for thirty seconds and repeat the set. Please remember: This is your workout. Only perform the movement for the amount of time that you can keep proper form. Also, take breaks and grab water if you need it. If you want to make it more challenging, come to a class! If you have pain associated with any of these exercises, either modify or substitute for another exercise. Sometimes, it is difficult to find an exercise that works the same muscles if you need to substitute. Feel free to email me and I can send you some suggestions: pureawesomenesspilates@gmail.com.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q3xpTBuz9Uc&feature=youtu.be

Try to add 10-15 additional minutes of cardio to your current activity every day. Remember, always strive to improve!

Food wise: Did you know that almonds help decrease belly fat? They fill you up with healthy fats that help burn flab and build muscle! Here's a recipe from Self.com that helps promote flat abs. This specific recipe only makes one serving, so if you are making it for more than yourself, be sure to multiply the recipe.

Black Bean and Almond Pesto Chicken

INGREDIENTS

1/4 cup packed fresh basil
2 tablespoons slivered almonds
2 tablespoons canned black beans
1 clove of garlic, chopped
2 teaspoons extra light olive oil, divided
1/4 teaspoon salt, divided
1 boneless, skinless chicken breast (about 6 oz)
1/2 large zucchini, thinly sliced
1/4 cup cherry or grape tomatoes, quartered
1/2 cup cooked brown rice (left over from Tuesday's dinner)

PREPARATION

In a mini-chopper, blend basil, almonds, beans, garlic, 1 tsp oil and 1/8 tsp salt until mixture is combined but chunky. Heat oven to 400°. Heat a small ovensafe skillet over high heat. Add remaining1 tsp oil. Sprinkle chicken with remaining 1/8 tsp salt. Cook chicken until it browns, 2 to 3 minutes. Move chicken to one side; add zucchini and tomatoes. Top chicken and vegetables with pesto. Cover and bake until chicken is cooked through, 12 to 14 minutes. Cool 5 minutes, then slice chicken. Place rice in an airtight container; top with chicken and vegetables and refrigerate until ready to serve. When ready to eat, microwave on high 2 to 3 minutes.

Flat Ab Challenge Week 1

I want to start this post by saying: THIS CHALLENGE IS NOT ABOUT STARVING YOURSELF OR LOSING INCHES QUICK. This is about changing your habits, what you eat and the way you treat your body. Throughout the month, I will be uploading homework you can do three times a week at home on top of your regular cardio exercise (I recommend twenty minutes or more 4-6 days a week, depending on your current level of activity). Don't come into this challenge saying, "Man, I have so many inches to lose. I'm going to cut everything but vegetables from my diet, workout 3 hours a day and only eat 900 calories a day." That approach is the best way to lose some quick weight then put it all plus more on as soon as the challenge comes to an end. It's not sustainable. Don't even go there, folks.

Throughout the month, I encourage you to keep track of your food calories and the calories you burn through physical activity. I do this through an app called MyFitnessPal. It's awesome; you can track everything you eat and see how much you lose by walking for 12 minutes. If you want accountability, you can add me and fix your settings so I can see your daily food journal. My username is: itriharder. Add me!

Alright, so here it goes! Welcome to the Pure Awesomeness Flat Ab Challenge! I'm so excited to have you all participating.

Below is a video of exercises for week 1. I recommend doing each move for :30-:60 seconds. After completing the set, take a one minute break and repeat two more times. Do this 2-3 times a week on non-consecutive days.

Here is a fun recipe from Fitness Magazine, which includes foods that help banish bloat in the stomach. Try it out and let me know what you think!

Lemon-Walnut Chicken

Prep time: 10 minutes
Cook time: 10 minutes
Makes: 4 servings
Ingredients
2 tablespoons very finely chopped parsley*
2 tablespoons very finely chopped toasted walnuts*
1/4 teaspoon finely grated lemon zest
4 medium skinless, boneless chicken breast halves, pounded to 1/2-inch thickness
2 teaspoons all-purpose flour
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon black pepper
1 tablespoon extra virgin olive oil
3 tablespoons diced shallots
1/4 cup low-sodium chicken broth
1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice, plus lemon wedges for serving
1 1/4 cups brown basmati rice, steamed
Directions
1. In a small bowl, mix together the parsley, walnuts, and lemon zest. Dust the chicken with the flour and season with the salt and black pepper.
2. In a very large skillet (or two medium-large skillets), heat the olive oil over medium heat. Add the shallots and saute until they begin to turn translucent, 1 minute. Push the shallots to one side of the pan, add the chicken breasts, and cook until golden, about 2 minutes per side.
3. Pour the chicken broth and lemon juice into the pan. Cover, and let simmer over low heat until the juices run clear when the chicken is pierced, 3 to 4 more minutes.
4. Use tongs to transfer the chicken to a serving dish, leaving the liquid and shallots in the pan. Bring the liquid to a boil over medium heat and stir until thickened, 1 minute. Stir in the parsley mixture. Pour the sauce over the chicken and serve over the rice with the lemon wedges.
*Use a mini food processor to reduce chopping time.
Nutrition facts per serving: 293 calories, 36g protein, 19g carbohydrate, 8g fat (1.3g saturated), 2g fiber

Around the Corner!!!

Wow! So cool to see how many people are committing to the Flat Ab Challenge!! Even some of my awesome peeps in Santa Barbara are doing the challenge from afar and some people I don't even know have asked to join! You all are AWESOME! And you know what else will be awesome soon? YOUR ABDOMINALS. Get stoked!

Don't forget: You still have three days to spread the word! Get your friends involved! Spread the wealth.

If you are one of the people in North Carolina, Illinois, England, etc. who can't make it to Bend for the test in day, you can still participate! Send me a picture of your stomach (without it being covered) from the front, side and back. Wear as little as possible! Don't forget what you wore though, because you will need to wear the same outfit when we test out on October 15! After taking photos, have someone (friend, spouse, parent) measure your waist- that's the smallest part of your stomach where it comes in just a bit. Then do the plank test. Get on your toes and elbows and hold that position (with a flat back, straight body) for as long as you can. Time it and send me the results at pureawesomenesspilates@gmail.com.

I'm so excited for you all to come out of this month feeling leaner, meaner and maybe even greener!

Flat Ab Challenge

Great news! I'm opening a fitness studio in good ol' Bend, Oregon! Once the studio opens, I will be selling memberships. Everyone loves free membership though, right? Well, I propose a challenge to all of you: How about a "Flat Ab Challenge"? One month to tone up, get ripped and change the way you view food, exercise and wellness. You can participate even if you can't attend classes in Bend. And the winner? Well, not only does the winner get a fantastic stomach to flaunt at the steam room, more core strength for the slopes and some bragging rights, the winner will also get free unlimited classes for a month and a gift card to Patagonia @ Bend!!

Without further ado, here are the rules:

Sign up with me before September 15, 2014. We will take measurements of your stomach and a beginning photo (for your and my eyes only). We will also test to see how long you can hold a plank. The challenge lasts for one month. That's only one month; you can do anything for a month. Within the month, I will update the blog with recipe ideas that incorporate foods that flatten the tummy. I will also post workouts and videos to do at home or with others to strengthen, tone and burn that stomach.

The winner will not be the person who has the best 8-pack; no, the winner is the person who took the most off of his or her waist and who shows the most progression before October 15, 2015.

So who is in? E-mail me at pureawesomenesspilates@gmail.com with questions or just to tell me that you are in! I look forward to hearing from you!

The Saga Continues AKA Part 2 of the Rest of My Life AKA Victory Never Tasted So Bubbly

Swim 2.4 miles.  
Check.
 Bike 112 miles.  
Check.

Only one more activity and I would be finished... except that one more activity was a marathon. No big deal, right? At that moment, it felt like a very big deal. I had just finished 112 miles in almost 100 degree heat with no shade. My legs had cramped to the point of no return. My hope was crushed and my ego was busted. I had no desire to go on, no drive to be an Ironman.

"Ashlee, RUN!!!!! GET YOUR FEET UP! RUUUUUUUUN!" When I had first heard Sloan's voice, my mind did not comprehend that the man was shouting at me. Once I saw that my friend had driven all the way out just to cheer me on, I knew I had to get my butt in action. Running to the transition tent, I handed The Thunder to a volunteer, flashed a weary smile at Amanda and Kaylee and lifted my arm to acknowledge my mom as I entered the tent.

I made one mistake in that tent: I took my sorry behind and I sat it down on a plastic folding chair. The cold material welcomed my weary legs and cradled me like a mother cradles her baby during a cold winter night... except it wasn't cold... it was scorching outside that tent. The sun was shining bright and the sweat sitting on my forehead and eating away at the material of my bike kit proved that.

One of the female volunteers noticed that I had not moved since I entered the tent. "Would you like some help?" She offered, cautiously. At least she was not forcing her help upon me like the swim volunteer.

No, I would like a doctor. 

I am not a woman who asks for help. Independent, stubborn, fearful of appearing weak or needy... ask my boyfriend, ask my dad, ask any man... I am my own gentleman. Asking for a doctor's help was my first sign that this race was coming to an early end.

While I waited, I peeled my tri kit off and stood naked in the middle of the tent, ignoring the two male doctors standing behind me. Taking my red racing tights and green Patagonia top out of my bag, I hastily worked to cover my rear end before the doctor's arrival. When he came over and I told him about my cramping, he told me I had two options: I could go sit in the medical tent and have my legs massaged and nursed back to life or I could ignore the pain and grab straight Coke from the aid station when I passed it. The rest of my belongings were tossed back into their bag and I looked at him, shrugged my shoulders and said, Alright. Thanks.

He responded by lifting a spray bottle and squirting my legs. Not sure if I appreciated the mist or was upset that he just got my thighs wet and I might chaff, I walked out of the tent and out to my family with a forced smile. I'm done, guys. Dad, please stop videotaping this. I'm seriously done, guys. I don't want to finish. Dad, seriously. Please turn the video camera off. Okay, fine... I'll walk a little. 

Walking was not an option though when I came around the bend and people began cheering my name. "Yeah, Ashlee! Great form! Looking strong!" Great... thanks for printing my name on my race bib, Ironman. I'm just SOOOOO glad that everyone knows the name of the girl who is about to collapse on that grassy spot over there. 

I had no option but to run... until I came to a spot where people weren't watching. As soon as the crowds died down, so did my pace. Instead of maintaining the run, I walked two minutes, ran one minute. My pace stayed below fifteen minutes per mile, super quick, I know, but at least I would finish before the cut off time.

The run course was brutal. It was three out and backs repeated twice on concrete. The only change of scenery were the fading smiles of the runners coming back from their second lap.

"Ashlee! Ashlee! Ashlee! Looking so good! Check her fly!" Yeah, I'll fool you by running until you can't see me! What up!?

My buddy ZackZack Bertges ran toward me on his last lap and I was glad I was in my running portion of my walk-2-run-1 plan. He looked strong as an ox and nimble as a gazelle. "AshleeAshlee!" Hey you! Yay you! Okay, he's gone... now I can walk. 
  

Outhouses waited at the aid station and I realized I hadn't peed since 5am. I waited in line for five minutes then walked into the fragrant hut. As I started wrapping toilet paper around every edge of the seat to protect my rear from the germs, I felt my crotch get wet... Yup, I just wet myself a little bit. Murphy's Law kicked in when I finally did pull my tights down to go and nothing came out. Checking the damage to my leggings, I wondered if I should wait in the porta potty until I was dry or if I should run and hope no one noticed. Oh, people noticed all right. I went with the latter option and heard several, "Oh, poor girl"s as I ran by.

C'est la vie! It's a race... pros do it all the time. 

One woman named Michelle and I had played leapfrog so much during the run/walk/jog/trot that we started cheering each other on until we decided to walk together and exchange life stories. Michelle decided to continue walking, but I wanted to pick up the pace, so I said goodbye and made my way toward the final out and back. As I passed two men in their 40's, they congratulated me on my pace. That's when my minute came to an end and I started to walk. They passed me and right when they began the walk, I ran past them again. They had the same walk-run plan as I did. We pushed each other along with our game of cat and mouse. With 800 meters left in the run, I charged past them and sprinted toward the finish line.

Cheers and screams sprung my feet along the red carpet as I approached the finish line. With each prance closer to the end, the shorter the distance between me and victory and the louder the shouts of pride from the crowd. My smile widened and I ran past the clock only 15 hours and 27 minutes after starting my morning. I jogged up to a woman who wrapped me in a heat blanket and placed a medal on my neck. "How are you so awake?" She asked. "The others look so defeated, but not you!"

I went slow and saved it for the end, I confessed. She had me pose for the finishers photo and I did some modeling poses for the man behind the camera. Yeah, I'm a bad ass and I still look cute after 15 hours. What now, Mr. Photographer?

My dad called my name from the other side of the gate and I could see the pride in his eyes. I had made my daddy proud. He didn't think I would finish. My mom, Kaylee and Amanda ran up to the gate and gave me a hug. A bouquet of flowers was exchanged from my sister's hands to mine as a bottle of champagne emerged and Amanda drenched me in a cool, refreshing explosion of alcohol.

With a plate of untouched food in one hand and my flowers in the other, I ran to the finish line and looked for Michelle. When we found each other, we hugged and introduced each other to the families of which we had spoken.

End scene with my family and Amanda walking into an empty Pearl Street in downtown Colorado. Camera pans out on a day well spent and a very bubbly victory.

First Date aka I Found The One aka Part 1 of the Rest of my Life

Everyone remembers his or her first love. Some people claim to find love at first sight, while other insist it takes hard work and time to differentiate true love and lust. My first love was a little different than most. My first love kicked my butt, left me out of breath and made me question if I had lost my sanity. Despite my nervousness, I knew after the first date that I was hooked. I guess it's true what they say: When you know, you just know.

The date started with the sun rising over the reservoir in Boulder, Colorado. The glow from the sun was a hue of yellow, red and orange; vibrant colors that seemed to dance over the water's edge. I hid behind my bag as my sister made remarks about cats, crazy people and The Lord of the Rings. My heartbeat was calm, but I was still excited to make eye contact with my date. Mom, Amanda, Kaylee and I stepped off of the yellow school bus in which we had traveled to the Boulder Resevoir. They helped me prepare for the date by holding my belongings while numbers were painted on my muscular calves and arms. I put on my nicest wetsuit and braided my hair back out of my face. My sister's arms wrapped around my neck and tears formed in her eyes. I think she knew this would be love before I even knew. Amanda snapped a photo and my mom looked at me with eyes that said, "You've got this, but if you don't, I'm still your biggest fan."

Like a headless chicken, I wandered through the crowds trying to find my one and only. My neoprene-clad arms pushed their way through the crowds to the sign that read "1:15-1:30". The woman on my right anxiously played with her pink breast cancer bracelet. I started conversation and we spoke of life, love and butt-kickings while we shuffled our feet forward. When my toes collided with the water, I knew the moment had come. I positioned my goggles and dove into the liquid, feeling my body become buoyant.

The start was slow as every time I tried to sped up, I found myself getting kicked in the chest or grabbing onto someone's foot. Pink, green and white caps bobbed all around me. Mouths gasping for breath, eyes shaded by tinted goggles, arms splashing the surface. I was so distracted by the multitudes of people surrounding me that I barely even noticed when the swim was over. People around me were trudging up the boat ramp while I was still using my arms to pull my way through the material. When my hand hit the concrete, I pulled myself to an upright position and ran toward the grass. A hand pulled my strap from behind, causing me to choke back like a dog on a leash. "Just undoing your wetsuit," he informed me.

A cute blond women who looked like Kristen Bell's long lost cousin jumped in front of me and told me to sit down on the ground. What? Why would I sit? "I'm going to strip you. Sit down." I plopped my butt down with a thud onto the muddy grass while she peeled the suit off of me like a banana peel. When I stood, my butt was brown with thick mud.

I ran into the changing tent and an older woman came hobbling down to my corner of the tent. "I can help you change," she told me. I'm okay. Thank you. She insisted. My body seemed to be moving at light speed compared to her calm, slow movements. She handed me a pair of shorts. I actually don't need those. I've decided to wear these. I stuffed them back in the bag. She pulled them back out. I tried to get to my bag, but she would not let me lay hand to it; her frail hands pulled out my sunscreen. Thanks! I reached for the sun repellent but she pulled it away. "I can spray you," she spoke. You can't fight the system. I allowed her to spray, noting the spots she missed so I could go back over them. She handed me my shorts a second time. I don't need those; I'm going to wear these. My tone was polite, but more firm. I just wanted to get to The Thunder, my Felt DA4.

Finally, I shook the woman off and handed my bag off to a volunteer. A tunnel of cheers greeted me as I ran to my bike and mounted, immediately riding off into the day. I knew I would be on The Thunder for at least 7 hours, so I tried to start slowly, but the pace still felt like I was in the danger zone of drafting the rider in front of me. At mile 17, my legs picked up pace and I hammered my way to the halfway mark feeling strong and pretty. At mile 56, the halfway point, I hopped off my bike and found my emergency bag. In it, I had packed a banana and sunscreen. I painted my face, found room for the banana in my back pocket and resumed the ride.

Mile 73.1 approached and I bonked hard. At mile 72 I felt fresh as a daisy, though I did note I had not eaten in 2 hours. I tried to take a Honey Stinger gel to my lips, but I felt nauseous. Regret hit when my hamstrings cramped at the 73rd mile. I found a dirt pull out and parked my bike. As I tried to loosen my cycle shoes and savor each bite of the banana, a dark-haired man on a shiny red motorcycle pulled off next to me. "You good to go?" He asked. Just cramping. "Good thing you have a banana." He rode away and I watched as other cyclists passed me, all asking if they could do anything for me.

I thought I would find my energy after the pit stop, but it refused to come back. My legs felt like they were filled with lead paperweights. My teeth were grinding together as my feet continued to grind the pedals. I looked at a group of people standing at a stop sign with signs and cowbells. It took all the energy I had left not to stop and ask them for a ride back into town. And if I called my dad for a ride, he would get stuck in the race traffic. I might as well just finish the bike then I can call it quits. These were the only thoughts that kept me going through the heat as I watched others drop off like drunken flies.

"We must dance on the pedals again," an Australian voice came from the man next to me. He was young, in his early-thirties, a blue kit clothed his perfectly toned booty and whisps of golder brown locks peered out from under his helmet. Yeah, you go do your dance. I'm gonna huff and puff back here, Mr. Ironman.

I stopped at mile 95 to throw out my empty water bottle and replace it with a mix of thick, sugar-filled Powerade. My throat opened up as the sugar coated the walls and energized my tired legs. The open road continued on and I with it. Momentum began to return to my deprived body and I found comfort knowing that the ride was coming to an end. Only 17 miles to go... and we will start with a big A hill.

Push. Pull. Push. Pull. 

All I saw were athletes falling to the ground, dry heaving in the shade and struggling to get to the top. At least I wasn't alone... or was I just in the first-timers' group with all the newbies? I reached the top of the hill and my legs cramped to the point of being unable to move. I stopped my bike and painfully clipped out. Resting my head on my bars, I tried to hide tears of pain and disappointment. Was this the end? Would I be able to move my legs again? A man asked if I would like to walk around and get the cramp out while he held my bike. I couldn't even imagine lifting my leg off of the bike though. Choking down some water and eating half of a Picky Bar seemed to minimize the cramping, so I got back on and pedaled toward the next elevation changing hill. Dance on those pedals, I did. I danced like Alex Owens earning her spot in the Pittsburgh Conservatory of Dance and Repertory. My heart was on my sleeve, along with my drool and snot.

With three miles to go, I could taste the victory. My bike started passing people on their bikes and it felt like smooth sailing... until I reached the last teeny, tiny hill and my legs cramped for the last time. This was the worst time. I stopped and barely could unclip. People passed chanting, "Only three miles!" I know it's only 3 miles! I can't do it. I literally cannot. 

A kind gentleman came and put his hand on my back. "You doing alright?" He stayed with me while I waited for a medic. While I waited, I asked him about his life and forced water down my throat. After 15 minutes, no medic came and my legs were feeling a little better. I decided to give it my all and find that finish line. Smashing the pedals like there was no tomorrow, I passed everyone in front of me and made my way to the finish line. I watched as people who were dazed, confused and sunburned were helped off of their bikes. A woman came to help me, but I was already off, limping to T2.

"Ashlee, RUN!!!!! GET YOUR FEET UP! RUUUUUUUUN!" I knew that voice. That drive and encouragement was undeniably Sloan Campi. Pointing at him, my heart started jumping up and down, but I'm not sure that my feet followed. "YOU'VE GOT THIS!!!! RUNNN! GO!!!!!" Still limping and really wishing I could deny his urging me on, I picked up my speed and ran toward the track, where Amanda, Kaylee, my mom and my dad were waiting to take pictures and root for me.

To be continued...

Sea Level to 7,000 Feet

Six days. That is all that is left until I race Ironman Boulder! The day is almost here and I am so not ready.

This last week, I took a group of freshman ladies to Malibu Club in Canada. It's a beautiful YoungLife camp on a private island. As wonderful as the week was, my training regimen was out the window. There is one stretch of boardwalk that reaches half a mile down the island. When I could find a chance to break away, I would run laps on the boardwalk.

"You go, girl!" People cheered as I ran back. "How many laps is that? Nine. You're awesome!"
 
My ego was way off the charts!

I didn't feel tired at all. I'm a stud! Look at me run! Ironman, here I come! 

...Oh wait... I'm at sea level... 

I came back from camp and took my friend up to Club 360. It is a tiny little walk, but I found myself trying to catch my breath as I climbed up the rocks.

Today will be spent trying to catch up on my workouts. I'll leave you with some photos of my trip though!