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GOALS: Overrated or Necessary

by Tina Sprinkle, posted in Health and Wellness, Reflections

As someone who coaches people to help them make positive changes in their lives, it may seem curious that I am lukewarm regarding the subject of goals, goal setting and even, ‘goaltending.’

Not all goals are good, even when created from a place of sincerity.  Some goals, in fact, can hinder our forward progress simply because they miss the mark.  We think we’re sure-footed on the path to the Summit because we can see the peak, only to find we’re off the trail, lost footing in scree, helplessly lost and frustrated.  It happens.  It’s happened to me, PLENTY of times.

That’s when it’s decision time- we can slide back downhill and say it was just too hard or dangerous to continue, or we can pull up our big people panties and figure out how to get out the hell out of our current mess and keep going.

As someone who makes her living by asking people to look beyond what they may believe is possible, I’m also asking us to also look beyond the goal itself.

Because it’s not the goal that drives us, it’s the energy and vision behind it and that’s something very different. That’s intention.

The reason so many of us fail to reach our goals is that we haven’t done the prep work. Perhaps, because we were told that we’d never accomplish anything without setting goals, we understood this to mean that the goal was the goal.

The goal is NOT the goal.

When I was 8 years old, my parents took me to a dude ranch in Colorado called Peaceful Valley.  It was the first of many Summer trips there that I remember with great affection.  These trips were my first exposure to the mountains, wilderness, the grandeur of nature, and horses; all still great passions of mine.

The Ranch’s owner divided the parents from the children which was, of course, a great relief to both of us. Emancipated from my parents, I had the freedom to explore, run wild, make new friends and, fall in love with horses. My first love was a horse named Strawberry.

 

This was no casual romance.  I was completely, insanely, unconditionally smitten.  

In retrospect I can see she was a geriatric, definitely past her prime, (I mean, what kind of horse are you going to put a little fat, inexperienced and excitable eight-year-old on), but all I saw was her solid beauty and magnificence.

On her back, I felt regal, powerful, free and entirely happy.  I loved the smell of her, the way my feet felt in the stirrups, the rough touch of her mane and the way she sassed her tail about.  As we meandered through thickets of pine and fields of Summer flowers, I felt that unique inspiration reserved for young children. She and I were ONE and I knew, whatever it took, that I MUST have a horse of my own.

I informed my parents of this fact and they said that was great!  I certainly could have a horse of my own, when I earned the money to purchase one.  Knowing my parents, I’d suspected this was coming and resigned myself quickly to the reality that this was going to take some time.

My goal was to own my very own horse.  

But even at eight years of age, I knew this might require more from me than I had to give.  That scared me and made me resent my parents.  Why couldn’t they just buy me the horse; that’s what NORMAL parents did.

It took me several years to earn the money through babysitting, errand running, delivering magazines door to door, etc, but I did it.  I finally had enough money to go horse shopping.  You can imagine my intoxication at my first horse auction; the smell of horses, the hay, the cowboys and that silvery tongued auctioneer! I sat there dreamy and dazed, hypnotized with romantic anticipation; my future horse and I would literally ride off into the sunset.

I didn’t purchase a horse that night, but I do remember a definite shift in my consciousness.  For the first time in my life, I knew I was near accomplishing a really, really big goal, and that has a way of redefining who you know yourself to be.  Even at twelve, especially at twelve.

Later that month, I found a horse in the classifieds and made him mine. I can still remember the clothes I had on, the new brush in my hand, the breathless drive from stable to stable.  His name was Santana, and as it turned out, he would be instrumental in teaching me many more lessons.  But that is another story.

So yes, I do believe in goals.  But only the goals worth making, (not having).

The kind of goals that require action and planning, passion and pruning. The kind of goals that through the process of achieving, can literally change our lives.

Of course there are no guarantees.  Even with the best of intentions, the greatest of plans, we can falter, stumble and lose our way.  The truth is, any goal worth the effort is freaking hard work and we’re going to have to recalculate our intentions along the way if we truly want to succeed.  This recalculation is the tricky part and that’s the part that interests me most in my work.


What we expect and what we get in life are rarely in sync.

 

I love this picture because it says it all.  The first step in managing this, I believe, is to have a really good sense of humor.  Shit happens, ok. Move on. Look up.  Keep going.

It’s how we keep going that’s the good stuff.  That’s where I like to play. That’s also where I feel we can have the most impact with one another – by taking the time daily to be mindful not only of ourselves but the people around us.

Once you see that we’re all doing the best we can, the noise quiets down and it’s easier to hear that voice in your head (and now I’m talking about the good one, not the critical one); the voice that calms you and centers you and makes you laugh at stupid stuff.

The small and patiently persistent voice that whispers, ‘Go, ahead, make my day. Be kind to yourself and others and see what happens.”

Because when we do that, our goals come around with a lot less effort and a lot more joy…. the length of our journey and the path we take is still all up to us. But as long as we’re on it, isn’t it good to remember that the journey is half the pleasure and all about purpose.

The Problem with Discipline

by Tina Sprinkle, posted in Growth Opportunities, Health and Wellness, Reflections

It’s that time of year when we tend to get riled up and set all sorts of lofty goals for ourselves. In layman’s terms this is called New Year’s Resolutions… in my industry it’s more like a False Positive- a brief jump in gym attendance due to this sudden burst of inspiration; inspiration that peters out sometime between Valentine’s Day and St. Patrick’s.

If it sounds like I am being judgmental, I am not. I’m just as vulnerable as the next person (perhaps more so) to the allure of making promises to myself that I do not keep. My Dad would have called this ‘putting the cart before the horse’ or ‘stepping in it because you weren’t looking’ or, if he were alive now, perhaps, ‘texting while driving,’ none of which are safe or productive.

The issue isn’t the very real desire we have to improve ourselves…I would hate to consider a world where we didn’t. The issue is more about where that thought originates.

WHY do we want to lose weight, stop smoking, eat better, exercise more, sleep better and be kinder to our spouse? Probably because we think we’d feel better, be healthier and happier of course. And we probably would.

Then WHY do so many of us feel so miserable when we fail to follow through? What derails our sudden genius; unwinds our enthusiasm, undermines our fortitude?  Why can’t we, as my fourth grade teacher Mrs. Myers directed, “finish what we begin?” The problem is discipline.

discipline
noun dis·ci·pline \ˈdi-sə-plən\

1. Punishment- suffering, pain or loss that serves as retribution
2. Instruction- a direction calling of compliance
3. Training that corrects, molds or perfects the mental faculties or moral character
4. Orderly or prescribed conduct or pattern of behavior
4. A rule or system of rules governing conduct or activity

The Merriam-Webster’s dictionary, further defines the word. ” Given that several meanings of discipline deal with study, governing one’s behavior, and instruction, one might assume that the word’s first meaning in English had to do with education. In fact, the earliest known use of discipline appears to be punishment related; it first was used in the 13th century to refer to chastisement of a religious nature, such as self flagellation.”

Talk about a buzz kill. It’s no wonder we have an issue following through if is this is where our motivation is seated.

In lieu of getting all preachy here, what the hell are we thinking? Is this a cultural phenomenon? Fall out from the Puritan Ethic?

Is it generational – as a Boomer am I doomed to constant self criticism and recrimination? Or is it simply about being human? Do dogs feel guilty when they overeat or forget to take out the trash? I know cats don’t.

One thing’s for sure, this approach ain’t much fun, so it’s probably NOT gonna get done.

So what CAN we do to motivate ourselves to do the things that do indeed make us healthier, happier and kinder to our loved ones?  How do we align what we say we WANT with what we DO?

We just stop. And be still. And look within ourselves to examine what it is we truly want. This may sound simple, but it’s not easy.

Being a terrier by nature, I have an innate disdain for slowing down and introspection. (Squirrel!)

My inherent anxiety often presents itself in manic overwork, over scheduling, over functioning, and over indulging! – all in the guise of “achievement.”

Down deep I know that instead of helping me reach my goals, this busyness is simply a distracting way to soothe my unease. Just because I get shit done doesn’t mean I am present to my deepest desires.

This is ironic because it’s in stillness that we can discover what it is we truly want.  Perhaps we may also learn that it doesn’t have to be so damned hard.

When I was around fourteen and had done something errant that warranted a serious sit down with my Father, I pleaded with him, trying to excuse my behavior (and subsequent grounding) by saying, “Dad! You just don’t understand! Times have changed! What you expect isn’t reality any more! It doesn’t apply! You just need to accept it!” He took me gently by the shoulders, turned me towards him and said,  “Tina, times may have changed, but kids have not.”  And then he grounded me, (I could never win an argument with that man.)

This lesson still resonates for me because it reminds me of my responsibility to myself and others. It’s tempting in these tumultuous, crazy, unstable times to forget that one thing remains constant: our ability to choose.

We have the right to choose to be healthy. We have the right to choose to be loving. We have the right to choose to be kind. And we can choose to be happy.  We deserve to be happy. That IS the buried treasure of being human; but reclaiming it beneath the bullshit requires excavation.  The sitting still kind; the hard kind.

When I realize that it’s not about THE goal, or the DISCIPLINE, or even THE timing of the outcome, but being true to my core beliefs, life’s complexities fade to the background and I can see more clearly. I can see that it’s a process not a place; that it takes practice and mindfulness and connection to other people around me.

It takes risking, asking for help, accepting it and finally, letting go.  Having faith is difficult, but it is the key to all possibility.

Today I’m choosing to create my life from a different perspective.  I don’t want to jump to the conclusion that my life, (with all ‘s messy terrier detours and distractions), makes me a failure or less deserving or simply less than.  I’m giving myself and break- hell, I’m giving myself a boost, just by knowing, not hoping, that I still have the power to choose the life I want.

The path we take is the path we make. I’m here to help you. Will you help me?

What are you agreeing to and how does it serve you

by Tina Sprinkle, posted in Reflections

tina hike bcI want you to ask yourself what you are agreeing to and how does that serve you.

If you are a current or former member of T School, I am pretty sure you were motivated to join that program as you were unsatisfied the way something was going in your world and wanted support to make those changes.

That might have been wanting to lose a few pounds, have more energy, or take a stand for your self by improving your health, vitality, and ability to be present for your loved ones.

Whatever it was, you cared enough about that change to invest in this program and become part of this community.  Now here it is, almost two-thirds of the way into it and you may have forgotten what the big deal was anyway.

You may have thought the first 21 days were your challenge, but this is the true challenge: continuing when it’s no longer a defined endgame- when it’s real life and decidedly NOT sexy to remember why you began.

Herb and I recently returned from a very interesting adventure in Canada,  The trip turned out nothing like we’d planned and we found ourselves bored and restless.  It rained so there wasn’t much outdoor activity to be had and you can only stare lovingly into your partner’s eyes so long before you go nuts…. and nuts is exactly what we went.

bacon marysWe ate hamburgers and yam fries and drank Bloody Mary’s with bacon on top.  We ate fish and chips (worth it!) and drank beer and wine (what!  we never drink beer and wine!) and got so deep in our cups one night we told our waiter in Vancouver it was our 30th Wedding Anniversary to get a special dessert.

30 th anniversaryI remember after that particular day/night of debauchery, Herb reaching over to me in the morning and saying. “How are you feeling this morning?” to which I replied in a voice unrecognizable to humans, “Well how the hell do you think I feel?”

So the question is, what did I agree to and how did it serve me?   I think you might know the answer.

I was served all right: OVER SERVED.  But those choices had not one thing to do with serving me, my goals, my health or my sense of well being.

liquor vs food (2)

So why do we do this to ourselves?  We say one thing and we do the other.

Of course, if I had the answer to that, I’d have shared it with you by now in
T School!

The short answer is we’re all human.  We are creatures of habits- even when some of them turn out to be inconsistent with what we say we want for ourselves.

But we’re looking for PROGRESS here, not necessarily PERFECTION, right?

As someone who has made the same changes in her life as she is asking you to make, I know it’s a matter of PRACTICE to become healthier in our choices.  It’s not automatic and our progress is never linear.   But I also know, for all my F-ups along the way, I have actually learned a different way of eating, moving and living in the process, AND achieved my fitness and fat loss goals along the way.

If you ask anyone that’s been through this program more than once, the choices you make do change over time.  It really does become less and less of a chore to eat well and move more.  In fact, the penalty for looking the other way is a resounding wake up call;  how bad does it feel to feel so awful when you know what it’s like to feel really good.

i feel fat todayOkay, I can hear some of you now…. “yeah, but I never felt good and I don’t feel that bad now- I just feel fat.”  

Well, then there’s that.  And for most of us, like it or not, feeling fat is probably the reason we got into T School in the first place.

And if we look a little deeper, that feeling is just the icing on the cake (sorry, I had to go there).  The real issues we have with food just go so much deeper don’t they?  Why else would continue to repeat the same habits that keep us stuck and unhappy?

Those are questions we are addressing as we move into our third trimester of T School. Getting sugar out of your house and your body was the first step towards ridding yourself of your cravings and creating more room for choice.  It was also designed to quiet that nagging assaulting voice in your head for feeling powerless over your cravings.

And guess what.  You did it.

Now it’s time to look at what drives you backward AND what moves you forward.    How can we overcome the persistent pull to regress, make excuses and then judge ourselves?

Coming home.  When it comes down to it, our bodies and our health are the only home we’ve got.

So, what are we agreeing to and how does it serve us?  That’s the question.   That’s everything.

Why I Went to Rehab for my Summer Vacation

by Tina Sprinkle, posted in Reflections

To say it’s been an interesting year is an understatement.  

It started off okay, but took a serious detour when I had my left hip replaced for the third (and hopefully last) time.

It seems my body doesn’t like foreign objects; a fact born out by the fact that the cup in my acetabulum, secured by bolts during my second procedure, had once again shimmied out of place, leaving me in pain, frustrated and pissed off.

When I tell people about this, the question is always the same:  What happened?  Why isn’t this working?

I’ve seen fear in the faces of others who’ve had their own hips replaced, and confused judgement in those who suppose I must have done something stupid to incur such bad luck.  I don’t blame them; I’ve wondered the same things myself.  But the bottom line is simple:  my bones were just too hard (aka scarred from previous bone on bone friction) to hold the cup securely in place.

Yes, He really is old enough to be my doctor!

So what do you do?  You get a new (highly recommended) surgeon, try a different surgical approach, incorporate a new regimen of supplementation that you help enhances bone receptivity, and install a new prosthesis.  

Most of all you cross your fingers and hope like hell the third time really is the charm.

And you follow directions.  You see your doctor for follow up appointments.  You’re religious about your physical therapy.  You walk and squat and log every damn clam shell on your way back to recovery. And if you’re very lucky, you have a fabulous partner and wonderful co-workers, clients and friends who support you and encourage you every step of the way.

You begin to see that there really is a light at the end of the tunnel and you prepare for your much-anticipated return to work.

You’re excited and laughing and having a blast teaching your first Pilates mat class back at work and twenty minutes into it, doing the most unassuming movement, you dislocate your brand new hip.

And the pain is worse than anything you’ve ever experienced, including childbirth, and your body goes into shock and shakes wildly as you get carried out on a stretcher by the EMT’s,  grateful that it’s the only time this has ever happened at your studio and it’s you (and not someone else).

Pretty, right? They put my hip back in! Yeah!

Pretty, right? They put my hip back in! Yeah!

It took a few people in the ER to pop that sucker back in place (don’t worry, they put me under), and I felt immediate relief to be out of that pain.  But the event later proved to leave a lasting impression, one of fear, apprehension and low-level depression.  It’s no fun when you can’t trust your body, especially when you’ve used that body for most of your life to teach, inspire and, oh yeah, make a living.

So, being the terrier that I am, I doubled down on my PT.  I backed off all other exercises and focused on the minute and precise movements prescribed to strengthen the muscles that would hold my hip in place.  And I walked.  I walked a lot.  And the more I walked, the better I felt and the more I walked the more grateful I became.

That’s when I decided to go to rehab.  In Colorado.

We left for Basalt, (a town located between Glenwood Springs and Aspen, Colorado) on my 57th birthday.  We planned to stay for five weeks, an opportunity that had long been only a dream of mine.  And now that dream took on expanded meaning- this would be my time to push myself beyond the limitations of my post hip replacement thinking: I wanted and needed to feel like I could conquer mountains! And so I came and put my self in rehab.

CASTLE PEAK

Signing in at the top of Castle Peak in 2008.

There are fifty-two peaks in Colorado that are over 14,000 feet.  I’d climbed my first 14’er, Castle Peak, several years ago with Herb, who, having lived in Colorado for a time, had climbed many of them himself.  He became my guide and pushed me to get over my fear of heights and later just fear of fatigue.  He challenged me to change my thinking about what I was capable of mentally and physically.  It was part of our courtship really, and I developed a deep respect and admiration for him on those hikes and climbs.

But as frightened as I was back then, this year was worse.  I was secretly afraid I would fail.  Would my hip have the stability, strength and endurance to do this? I was terrified to find out.

But I was here and the mountains were here and it was time to simply do.

IMG_5112

As it turns out, tromping around these mountains almost every day has been the best (extended) rehab my hip could have.  Together, Herb and I have logged hundreds of miles and thousands of feet of elevation and, despite a few hairy moments when we got off a trail or two, nature has proved once again to be the ultimate teacher and healer.

When I look up and see those big peaks and begin hiking up towards them, I feel nervous and excited and a little apprehensive.  But I also feel grounded and happy. As corny as it sounds, nature puts my life in perspective.

And when you finally get to the top and you look around at all that magnificent, powerful, steadfast beauty, thinking just kind of stops and for a moment, you simply ARE …. and that’s the kind of rehab I like.

 

JUSTINThank you to Lisa, Britt and my entire team for being so awesome that I could take this time and not worry about the studio.  Thank you, Herb, for making me laugh and understanding when I was shitty (once).  Thank you, Chuck and Doris, for being amazing mentors and friends and for proving that folks can still be happily married after fifty years.

And thanks to my doc and Justin and Biago at Elite PT for getting me to the point that I could walk and hike and heal.  It’s good to go to rehab, but it’s even better to get back home

 

 

The Case for Daddy’s Girls

by Tina Sprinkle, posted in Family Ties

I am a Daddy’s girl; always have been.

That’s because I got lucky; the Universe paired me with Ehret Oscar Ramey to be my counselor, teacher, mentor, protector, and friend.  Ehret Ramey was my adopted Father.

As a child, he had curly hair, and his lower income family moved a lot which made him vulnerable to teasing and bullying.  He learned to fight at an early age, which knowing him as I do, must have been hard because his inherent nature was so gentle. I suppose those fights helped define who he was and who he wasn’t because as my Father, he never chose a fight, but also never stepped away from defending what he believed was right.

And what he thought was right for me, usually was.

I wasn’t exactly an easy kid, and being the only daughter, I know he worried and was disappointed by a lot of my choices. But he never judged me or ignored me or made me feel less than or ashamed; he was always there when I finally came home with whatever I needed; a kiss to my forehead, a long hard embrace, words of love, or, no words at all.

My Dad was my champion and I always knew that.  That changes a person. 

I liked to run away when I was a kid to assert my Autonomy and Independence. One time I “ran away” to a Young Life Skating Party. When my Dad picked me up and discovered his 12-year-old was drunk, he took me to the hospital where he worked, cleaned me up in the Doctors lounge, and bought me a toothbrush.  He said I’d better brush my teeth, stay away from alcohol and not to inform my Mother of my escapades.  There were a few things we agreed not to tell Mom.

My parents were married for over 60 years, something I both admire and am amazed by.  My Father chose a difficult woman to love and I often wondered how in the world he could not only love her but completely adore her.

I thought my Mother was insane but he was unconcerned, and in retrospect, his example of loving another human has provided something like a wellspring for me: a spring that I dip in when I am feeling particularly empty myself.

My Dad was handsome.  My Dad was accomplished.  My Dad was a man of service and his word.  My Dad was a teacher, a physician, a friend, and caretaker to all.  He loved to sing and dance and tell horrible jokes,
(and I mean B A D jokes). But he would get so tickled telling his own stupid jokes that you finally had to give in and laugh along with him, dreading the punchline all the same.

He also liked to make things in his wood shop when he retired when he was still able to, before he had his stroke.

After the stroke, it was my turn to give back to my Father and I am here to tell you it was my great pleasure.  It wasn’t always easy, (I used to call him Dr Magoo when I was at the end of my rope); loving him so, it could also be heartbreaking.

Once when I took him to the movies, we were ordering a coke and he couldn’t get the words out, grasping the Coca-Cola display cup with a death grip and just be mumbling to me.  I knew what he was trying to say and gently tried to pry the cup out of his hands as the fountain jerk (and I do mean jerk), just stared at us.   I wanted to tell everyone, “You don’t know this man- you don’t know how brilliant and kind and loving he is!  How many lives he’s touched- how many lives he brought into this world…” but instead we went in and sat down and watched the movie which made my Dad laugh a lot, and that made me feel better, too.

As I said, my Dad was a gentle soul and as a parent always treated us kids with respect even when we were clearly over the line.  I can only remember two instances when my Dad lost it and both times it was because my older brother or I said something disrespectful to our Mother.

The slap I’d never seen coming stung much more than my face; the lowest place I could ever inhabit was the one called disappointing my Father.  I burst into tears as he pulled me to him.  That only made it worse.  You can see, I still remember.

So, today on Father’s Day, I celebrate my Father, E.O. Ramey, and all the other wonderful Fathers that I know.  

What a blessing to be a Daddy’s girl because that means you were taught how to be loved deeply and completely by a wonderful, caring man.

Thank you, Dad.  I miss you.  I sure do.

Happy Father’s Day Dad from Tina Sprinkle on Vimeo.

A LETTER TO MY MOTHER ON MOTHER’S DAY

by Tina Sprinkle, posted in Family Ties

My mom was 89 years when she died.   She was also feisty, hard-headed, and a little more than off-center. This wasn’t a product of her age- it was just her being Ruth Wylodene Sturdivant Ramey.

Five days before she was gone, she was eating with my brother at her beloved Applebee’s, crying tears of joy because he’d come to visit her.

Four days before she was gone I received a voicemail from her head nurse, Laura, saying that there was nothing to worry about, but my mom, angry that she was not allowed to sit in the nurse’s chair, had “put herself on the floor.” 

I sighed and asked if I should come out to help; they said they’d call me back. Twenty minutes they that she had simply gotten up and walked back to her room, having made her point.

Three days before she was gone, I walked into her room to find her breathing labored, her speech incoherent and alien.  

My heart sank when she was unable to navigate the warm cookie I brought to her mouth; her hand simply wouldn’t allow the task.

“You can always eat it tomorrow, Mom,” taking the cookie from her. But of course, even then, I knew that wasn’t true.

“Mom, you look a little tired today.  I’m going to take your laundry home and I’ll be back first thing in the morning. You’ll feel better then.”

And then, with sudden order and clarity, she reached for my hand and said, “Be careful out there, there’s a lot of traffic.”   

Those were the last words  I heard my Mom say, and of course, they could not have been more caring.
 
The fact that my mother was afraid of traffic, weather, and insults real and imagined, did nothing to deter her from fighting against it all. She took names after kicking butt, not before. You don’t apologize for doing the right thing after all, even if the right thing existed mainly in your own mind.
She and I took a long road home and I’m embarrassed to say I lived most of my life in reaction to her.  I resented her for everything we did not have in common.

She weighed 89 pounds soaking wet. I was born so fat she wondered if I had a neck.

She was dainty and lovely. I was bald, boxy, and skeptical.

She taped plastic flowers to my head so people would know I was a girl.

A southern belle, she feigned weakness but ruled our home with an iron fist.  The fact that she covered it with a white glove didn’t fool me-  I hated her hypocrisy and made it my mission in life to prove her wrong.

I called her ‘Little General’ behind her back and mocked her to her face when I was an adolescent. 

I loved my Father and couldn’t understand for the life of me why he worshipped a woman like her!

When he died in 2008, he wouldn’t let go until we all promised to take care of Mom.  

If there was one thing my Dad loved more than anything else in this world, it was his little Dene and he was not excited about leaving this earth without her.

He’d spent 63 years loving, protecting, and providing for her; he simply couldn’t leave her unless we promised she’d be safe.  

And that’s a promise you don’t make unless you can keep it.

My brothers lived out of state. They were great about flying
in and out, and generous with financial support, but the day-to-day fell to me.

When she agreed to move to assisted living, her shyness made it hard to connect with others. So I’d show up to help—organizing “play dates” and prompting table talk just to get her started. Eventually, she found her people and settled in, but the transition wasn’t easy.

 

She expressed her discomfort the way she always had: by fabricating stories and projecting motives onto others. It was consistent with a lifelong pattern—struggling to take personal responsibility.

 

Along the way, we navigated heart disease, broken hips, glaucoma, and one particularly harrowing visit to a psychiatrist when she became unusually paranoid and delusional.

 

We also narrowly avoided a $250,000 lawsuit. After leaving her faucet running in her third-floor apartment, my mother flooded not only her own unit but the two below. When the corporation that owned the facility sued her for damages, I was stunned.

“What in the world!” I complained to my dear friend Jennifer, “The idea of holding an 87-year-old woman with dementia financially responsible is reprehensible! Isn’t that why corporations carry insurance???”

 

Jennifer, one of Kansas City’s best attorneys, agreed and interceded on my mother’s behalf, refusing to take a cent for her time. Meanwhile, Mom went from apologizing for the accident to complete denial—demonizing the facility, the attorneys, and anyone else who mentioned it. It triggered her paranoia and obsession.

““Great news, Mom!” I said, when she showed me the latest piece of “hate mail” from the attorneys. “I’ve hired someone to make this all go away, so you don’t have to worry about it anymore.”

 

“Who’s that?” she asked, eyes narrowing with suspicion.

 

“You know her—Jennifer, my friend at Shaffer Lombardo,” I said, pulling out the demand letter. “Here, look. It’s all going to be fine.”

 

She snatched the letter from my hand, squinting at the signature. Her face twisted.

“Oh noooooo! Not a woman!” she wailed.

Before I could stop myself, my hand flew up and came down hard on the table between us with a loud thud. Papers scattered in the air, matching the force of my anger.

 

Those three words—Not a woman!—hit a raw, familiar nerve. They triggered a lifetime of frustration with my mother: her competitive misogyny, her deep distrust of other women, and her ultimate rejection of me.

“Go to hell, Mom! I’m done with this mess—trying to help, trying to take care of you. Fuck it! Let Mike and Tim handle it!”

 

And I meant it. I was blind with rage, sobbing all the way home. I called Herb from the road, shrieking, “I’m done with this shit! Let my brothers do the heavy lifting—Mike’s her freaking hero anyway!”

“Come on home, babe,” he said gently. “And be careful.”

He listened to me rage for two full days. I couldn’t let it go. I felt like a child again—rejected, dismissed. The wound was deep and raw.

My brothers were sympathetic but helpless. How were they supposed to manage her doctors’ appointments, the twice-weekly warfarin tests, her medications?

That moment was pivotal for me. I realized I wasn’t taking care of my mother because I had to, or because my father once asked me to. I was doing it because that’s who I am. I wanted to.

And that shift changed everything. It freed me from a lifetime of reacting to her as a wounded child. I was no longer that girl. I was a woman now—conscious, and free to choose. And I chose her.

 

 

I don’t think anyone was more surprised than I was that I loved my Mother so much.  I was completely unprepared for how deeply I wanted to be with her, take care of her and be strong for her.  This was not me.  

And so, as she reclaimed her innocence; when her days became indistinguishable from the other, when she wept in confusion, I was happy to be there – to learn that I could comfort her and give her peace.  

We went to Applebee’s, painting class, Sonic, and JCPenney. We saw movies, wandered the museum, strolled the park. We got manicures, pedicures—even facials. When she needed to go to the dentist or dermatologist, I made an appointment, too.

But her favorite pastime was sitting in the common area at Delmar Gardens, delighting in tawdry gossip about each person who might walk by.

My Mother had a detailed imagination and once she got started on a yarn, you’d just as soon settle in and listen.  

And so I learned to listen to her without having to be reasonable, and her stories made us both laugh…. and the more I laughed, the more she told them until it didn’t matter anymore- and soon we were two ladies cackling and being silly.

I wouldn’t trade a moment of the last few years of my Mom’s life because we finally got to have the kind of relationship I’d always wanted. I knew she loved me and I knew I loved her.

When I was younger acting like a know it all, my Mom warned me, “Best not to count your chickens before they’re hatched, Tina.”    

It was lost on me then; I just thought she was a hayseed from Tennessee. But now I understand.

Life is a miracle that will surprise you every damn day if you let it. And so, today, on Mother’s Day, I’ll not count my chickens, Mom, just my blessings. 

We love you, Mom! We miss you, Mom! Happy Mother’s Day!

Exercise, Calories and Fat Loss

by Tina Sprinkle, posted in Food for Thought
fitness_101In our last T School Intensive discussion about the importance of keeping track of your food, exercise and sleep, one of our participants asked how best to record our exercise calories burned in the MyFitnessPal app.
She asked for a simple way to record calories burned through common activities, like walking, weight training, High Intensity Interval workouts, and our classes at Pilates 1901, etc, as there are no preset activities in the app to make this simple.It was a good question, so I followed up on her request. (Thank you Lisa K.) But before I continue, I need to preface my finding with two
pre-requisites.  When considering the effects of exercise, it’s important to not focus solely on the total calories burned during the activity, but to consider the overall metabolic effect on your body.IS IT REALLY ABOUT CALORIES IN AND CALORIES OUT?  NOT EXACTLY.

While more calories may be burned in cardio session than a resistance training session, the long term results of that resistance training session may have the greater impact on fat loss because you are building and maintaining muscle mass, your metabolic furnace.  The best fat burning workout option is interval training which combines cardio and resistance exercises performed at an intensity level that takes you outside of your comfort zone with periods of rest and recovery.  This creates what is called the EPOC effect.investment
EPOC STANDS FOR EXCESS POS-EXERCISE OXYGEN CONSUMPTION.
Similar to how a car’s engine remains warm after being turned off, once a workout is over and you’re back in your daily routine, your body’s metabolism can continue to burn more calories than when at complete rest. This physiological effect is called excess post-exercise oxygen consumption, or EPOC. Also known as oxygen debt, EPOC is the amount of oxygen required to restore your body to its normal, resting level of metabolic function (called homeostasis). It also explains how your body can continue to burn calories long after you’ve finished your workout.

Your metabolism is how your body converts the nutrients you consume in your diet to adenosine triphosphate (ATP), the fuel your body uses for muscular activity. ATP is produced either with oxygen using the aerobic pathways or without oxygen relying on the anaerobic pathways. When you first start to exercise, your body uses the anaerobic energy pathways and stored ATP to fuel that activity. A proper warm-up is important because it can take about five to eight minutes to be able to efficiently use aerobic metabolism to produce the ATP necessary to sustain physical activity. Once a steady-state of oxygen consumption is achieved, the aerobic energy pathways are able to provide most of the ATP needed for the workout. Exercise that places a greater demand on the anaerobic energy pathways during the workout can increase the need for oxygen after the workout, thereby enhancing the EPOC effect.

 

HIGH-INTENSITY INTERVAL TRAINING (HIIT) IS THE MOST EFFECTIVE WAY TO STIMULATE THE EPOC EFFECT.
The body is most efficient at producing ATP through aerobic metabolism; however, at higher intensities when energy is needed immediately, the anaerobic pathways can provide the necessary ATP much more quickly. This is why we can only sustain high-intensity activity for a brief period of time—we simply run out of energy. HIIT works because during high-intensity exercise ATP is produced by the anaerobic pathways; once that ATP exhausted, it is necessary to allow ATP to be replenished. The rest interval or active-recovery period during an anaerobic workout allows aerobic metabolism to produce and replace ATP in the involved muscles. The oxygen deficit is the difference between the volume of O2 consumed during exercise and the amount that would be consumed if energy demands were met through only the aerobic energy pathway.

 

EPOC IS INFLUENCED BY THE INTENSITY, NOT THE DURATION OF EXERCISE.
Higher intensities require ATP from anaerobic pathways. If the ATP required to exercise at a particular intensity was not obtained aerobically, it must come from the anaerobic pathways. During EPOC, the body uses oxygen to restore muscle glycogen and rebuild muscle proteins damaged during exercise. Even after a HIIT workout is over, the body will continue to use the aerobic energy pathway to replace the ATP consumed during the workout, thus enhancing the EPOC effect.

 

RESEARCH HAS SHOWN THAT RESISTANCE TRAINING CAN PROVIDE A GREATER EPOC EFFECT THAN RUNNING AT A STEADY SPEED.
In an extensive review of the research literature on EPOC it was concluded that resistance exercise produces a greater EPOC response than steady state cardio exercise. For example, one study found that when aerobic cycling (40 minutes at 80 percent Max HR), circuit weight training (4 sets/8 exercises/15 reps at 50 percent 1-RM) and heavy resistance exercise (3 sets/8 exercises at 80-90 percent 1-RM to exhaustion) were compared, heavy resistance exercise produced the biggest EPOC.

 

fitness-reformerSO HOW TO KEEP THIS SIMPLE IN MY FITNESS PAL?
At this point, we are not able to share set kcal burn for different workouts in the myfitnesspal app, but you can each individually import the estimated kcal burn in the attached “cheat sheet” that I created.  Please keep in mind that this is just an estimate of kcal burned as I used the following parameters to run the calorie burn calculations:
The participant is female, 50 years old and weighs 145 lbs.  To get a more accurate count for your personal workouts you will need to visit one of the calorie calculator sites listed below and enter your personal stats.

You will notice the greatest number of calories might come from cardio and interval training classes but all resistance training (ie Mat, Ball and Pilates equipment workouts) are helping you build and maintain muscle which determines your ability to burn calories not only during exercise but at rest.  Further, over training, or doing too much exercise in the name of burning more calories undermines your ability to maintain muscle mass and may actually sabotage your best results.

 

DON’T FIGURE EXERCISE CALORIES BACK INTO YOUR TOTAL DAILY CALORIES
The other thing that people are tempted to do when looking at calories burned by exercise is to think they can add them to the total number of calories they consume per day.  This is incorrect and most folks only slow down or sabotage their fat loss goals by “eating them back on.”  Do not make this mistake; instead look at the exercise calories your burn daily as a way to propel your progress and not simply a way to justify eating more food.

To calculate your own kcal burn doing different types of exercise, explore the following resource links:

 

facebook_Happy Woman jumping shutterstockTHE BOTTOM LINE
It all comes back to journaling about the kind of exercise that you LIKE and WILL DO, and HOW YOU FEEL after doing it.  Consistency in your habits, including the foods you choose to eat daily, the movement you engage in and the commitment to getting quality sleep is what matters.

Your body isn’t a math calculation and although it’s important to have guidelines to work within, your awareness and connection to your daily choices is what will transform your body, body composition and your life.

Is Sitting the New Smoking

by Tina Sprinkle, posted in Health and Wellness


Many thanks to my friends Michelle Davidson and Joel Nichols for welcoming me every other Thursday morning to discuss what we can do each day to be proactive, healthy,  and happy!   I am so grateful for the opportunity to share!

 

Is Sitting the New Smoking?

This caption was coined by research scientist Dr. James Levine at the Mayo Clinic.  He found the health risks of sitting to be so devastating you might want to stand up while you read this post!

 

The average American is sitting 60% of their waking day (or 9.5 hours) between work and TV time.  But at what cost?

 


Health Risks of Sitting too much

Increases your risk for cardiovascular disease, heart attack and stroke by a staggering  90% to 125%! This is because sitting suppresses enzymes on the body that utilize fat for energy and reduces LLP1 a key gene that prevents blood clotting and reduces inflammation.  This results in more fat circulating in the blood and less activity to manage it.  And it begins the moment you sit down.

 

Doubles your risk for developing diabetes.
People who sit too much have enzyme changes in the muscles that increase sugar levels and interrupt healthy insulin response.  Over time, prolonged sitting interrupts healthy metabolic processes and may lead to insulin insensitivity, weight gain and type two diabetes.

 

Increases your risk for cancer.
Research shows that sitting more than 6 hours per day significantly increases your risk for developing breast, colon, lung and prostate cancer.
Overall mortality increases by nearly 50% 
Studies show that chronic sitters die earlier than those who don’t sit as much.  And don’t get smug about exercising away all those health risks at the end of the day.  Researchers say the same enzymes and genes that are so sensitive to sitting, are simultaneously resistant to exercise.  Studies show that even the highest level of exercise has no effect on reversing the damage of sitting.  So what do we do?  The only cure is to get up and move every 30 minutes.

 

Helpful tips to avoid sitting too long 

  • Set an alarm on your phone to remind you to get up and move every 30 minutes
  • Walk while you are talking on the phone.
  • Invite your clients to walking meetings.
  • Sit less when you get home.  Don’t just plop down on the couch.
  • Invest in a standing or treadmill desk
  • Sit on a stability ball at work so you can bounce or move at your desk.  The ball provides enough instability that your body is constantly having to make small movement adjustments and use your core muscles to sit up straight.
  • Do some of the exercises recommended in this video.
Movement is a critical component of your optimal health so become mindful today of how much you really are sitting.  Then take it a step further and think about what you are eating and how much you are (or are not) sleeping.
 

Boredom and Buried Treasure on my SurgiBattical

by Tina Sprinkle, posted in Family Ties, Growth Opportunities

The Power of Three.

Three years. Three Hips. Three Weeks. Three days.

In recovery, obviously still sedated

It’s been three weeks and three days since my third hip replacement, each of which I have had exactly three years apart.

Seems like a pattern here.  A pattern that needs to stop.

It’s not that I don’t like hospitals (I don’t like hospitals), or my doctors (two out of three ain’t bad), or pain (the myth about women having a higher pain tolerance is untrue); it’s about all the questions about why, why, why Tina- why YOU?

I guess it would be normal for people to think that my being reasonably young (for a hip replacement) and proactive and fit, that I would be able to avoid these constant revisions.

“Do you think you did too many step classes?” (spinning classes, aerobic classes, etc) “Did you cut your physical therapy too short?”  “Maybe you came back too soon?”  “Do you have osteoporosis?”  “What’s wrong with your bones?”

The implication seems to be (no matter how unintentionally), that I did something to create my situation. And I guess I did.  I was born… to parents who also had arthritis; a condition that most of us will develop to some degree as we age.   I just happened to be one of those who developed it early.

I don’t mean to sound testy.  I get it. No one wants to believe you have to have three hip replacements before your mid fifties to get it right.  But I did.  And it sucks.

 

The Good News.

When I posted this picture on FB everyone wondered if he was married! Let’s show some respect people- he’s a Doctor!

My physician, Dr. Scott Wingertner, (who may look like he’s twelve but is actually a brilliant surgeon), told me he’s very confident this will be my last revision. Yeah!!!

There was a problem after all with my bones: they were too hard! Hard enough that it was difficult to scrape down far enough into the bone bed to get a secure set of the cup- harder still to drill in the multiple screws that we trust will keep the damned thing in place this time. The irony of course is that my bones were not too soft to hold the cup in place, but too hard! Now that’s freaking hilarious!

The recovery too will be hard.  Hard because the incision was different.  Hard because I’m that much older and my poor muscles are confused having performed acrobats to accommodate the previous surgeries.  That means it’s going to take more time to recover.  That means I’m going to have to stay quiet, follow directions, take it slow and mind my manners- all traits that are not organically Tina. You see my dilemma.

 

Justin Trent, my beloved PT

Boredom and Buried Treasure

So it’s been three weeks and three days since my surgery.  It took two weeks to get out of bed, three weeks to toss the walker and three weeks and three days to feel like my brain is clear enough to write this blog.

It will be three months I am told, before I can return to work and a normal schedule. Are you kidding me?  Yeah, that’s exactly what I said. But it’s true.  So what am I to do?

I think a good place to start is being grateful.

If there’s one thing getting set on your ass will show you, it’s who your friends are. I’ve been blown away (and I mean blown away) by the amazing support of my friends, family and community. Daily cards, emails, texts, meals, flowers, gifts and wishes for healing have humbled me and brought me to tears.  If one of life’s big lessons is to learn to be vulnerable, trust and accept, then I am getting my Phd.

Any entrepreneur would be nervous about leaving their business in the hands of others, but my amazing 1901 staff and coaching community have shown me just how powerful a team can be when they share the same values and vision. They’ve not missed a beat in taking care of our clients, of one another, and me.

You might think learning life goes on without you would pop your balloon, but it’s given mine an unexpected rise instead. I might actually be able to use this time to focus on all those things I’ve been saying I want to do instead of chasing my tail worrying about what might be falling through the cracks. My gratitude to my staff is immense for this.  To this I can only say, thank you, thank you, and thank you.

 

Flowers ARE Medicine!

The Book

Many of you know, I’ve been talking about writing a book for sometime. Now, it seems, I have no excuse.  I have the time and I have the support to write it.  So, (and I know this public statement is going to cause me some major 2 am anxiety), I am going to begin writing more regularly and trust that the book takes shape.

So what is this book about? It’s about you. It’s about everything I’ve learned (and am still learning) from you all these years teaching health and fitness. It’s about your questions, your frustrations, your desires and your fear of failure. It’s about possibility and freedom and daring to live your best life every day.

That’s what the book is about!  Do I have the answer?  NO.  Do I have a solution.

YES, I do!  Many!  And the suggestions I will make are culled directly from the lessons learned by living and working and playing with you, my friends and family and clients.

About this time, you’re thinking, okay Tina, let’s step away from the hydrocodone.

But, it’s not the drugs.  (I am writing this sans pain medicine)  If I seem high, it’s because I’m so excited about sharing your stories. I’ve seen first hand the miracles that happen when ordinary people make the decision to create profound change in their lives, simply by shifting their beliefs- by accepting that they have the power to do so.

Mom and me circa 2013

John Irving wrote, “Good habits are worth being fanatical about.”  So pardon me if I sound a bit fanatical.  I’ve been at home for three weeks, eating good food lovingly prepared by my partner, my friends, my staff and my awesome community. I’ve had time to reflect on what’s most important to me, who’s most important to me, the casual treasures of every day life, and the poignancy and potential of random acts of kindness.

When I was a kid, complaining because I was restless and bored, my Mom used to say, “Only boring people are bored,” but never suggested what else I might do. I guess she was what you might call a ‘do it yourself parent’, a fact that I hadn’t fully appreciated perhaps, until now.

So Mom, I hear ya loud and clear. I ain’t bored and I sure as hell ain’t boring. I’ve found something to do.

***************************************************************

The Truth About Fat in Your Diet

by Tina Sprinkle, posted in Food for Thought


Many thanks to my friends Michelle Davidson and Joel Nichols for welcoming me every other Thursday morning to discuss what we can do each day to be proactive, healthy,  and happy!   I am so grateful for the opportunity to share!

 

Is Eating Fat Bad for You?

Over the past thirty years, it seems dietary fat has been demonized as responsible for leading to heart disease, diabetes, and strokes.  But is that assessment still accurate?  Fat is a macronutrient that we, in fact, need in our bodies for optimal cell function, nerve function, brain function, healthy skin and hair, joint cushioning, and the transport of fat-soluble vitamins, A, D, E, and K.
So why the bad wrap?  Take a moment to learn more about the benefits of eating fat and the real health costs of eating one type of fat in particular:  Transfats.

To take a closer look at the risks of eating fat, it’s important to know there are different kinds of fat: Healthy, Bad and Benign.

“Healthy Fats”
include monounsaturated fats and polyunsaturated fats which often come from plant-based sources and are generally liquid at room temperature.  Walnuts, avocados, olive oil, and peanuts are examples of monounsaturated fats;  Flaxseed, vegetable oils, fish oils (in salmon), almonds and seeds provide us with our poly unsaturated fats, which contain heart-healthy Omega 3 and Omega 6’s.

 

“Saturated Fats”  found in animal products like milk, meat, cheese, lard, and butter may also be found in plant sources like coconuts.  Saturated fats are usually solid at room temperature and have been credited with increasing our risk for heart and cardiovascular disease.  That’s because the research showed that eating saturated fats increased our blood fats and cholesterol which was associated with greater risk for heart disease.
But what the research did not show was that it focused on TOTAL Cholesterol rather than examining the ways it affected both our “bad” cholesterol (LDL- low density lipo proteins) and our “good” cholesterol (HDL-  high density lipo proteins).

 

Further, scientists have discovered that our LDL lipoproteins come in two sizes and consistencies, small and dense and large and fluffy,

Small dense particles can pass through arterial walls easily and contribute to plaque build up and coronary artery disease.  They also are easily oxidized which raises the risk of disease.  But the large molecule LDL is large and fluffy and are too large to pass through cell walls and is therefore benign.

Low carb diets higher in saturated fats help enlarge the LDL particles and low fat diets have been linked to increased small particle LDL. This research shows that saturated fat does not have the same detrimental affect on blood lipids as it was thought in the past.  That said, you shouldn’t make a steady diet of bacon and steak, but there is now evidence that saturated fat is not as bad as we once assumed.  In fact recent studies have show that diets high in protein and saturated fats can increase our HDL (the “good”cholesterol) and increase the production of large density (rather than the riskier small density lipo proteins) associated with risk for heart disease.

 

The real enemy in fighting fat is avoiding Transfats at all cost.  Trans fats are  man made hydrogenated oils that were designed to help extend shelf life of processed foods.  Trans fat is often found in margarine, baked goods, prepared cookie dough and biscuits, and commercially fried foods and snack chips
When you read a label and see the words, “hydrogenated vegetable oil,” please know that the fats in this food have been chemically altered by a high heat process which alters the composition of the fat in a profound and dangerous way.  Transfats drastically increase small density LDL and risk for heart disease, obesity, insulin resistance, belly fat and metabolic disease.

In fact the fat has been found to be so harmful that the FDA has put out a mandate that all trans fats must be out of all foods in America by the end of 2018.   But until then avoid transfats by avoiding processed foods and reading labels.

A simply way to stay on top of all this information is to remember, if it comes in a box and has more than five ingredients (or ingredients only a chemist could pronounce), it doesn’t need to go into your body!