I Am the Why

I Am the Why

A rock group, movie star, screen writer, comedian and famous musician walk onto my mats…but I don’t know this yet. A Mother, a cancer survivor, a bride to be and a divorcee all sit on the same matts.

A father who has lost his first child, a man who is about to make his first business deal, a boxer who is training for his first fight and an unknown artist share the same goals. From pole dancers, editors, lawyers, pilots and house wives, my mats have many stories.

The mats are met with many types of individuals that are there for one purpose and one purpose only, to find their why.

Why? Why train? Why work so hard? Why get up and sweat with a stranger to achieve a goal that is elusive at the time? Why do we do put ourselves thru this pain threshold or for that matter why do I?

Here is Why: Training isn’t just about the physical, no it is much more than that, it is about the mindset.

I do the training and I am the trainer. I have walked in all of these amazing humans footsteps with them. I have found that each of us are connected to our external goals as well as our internal struggles. Men and woman alike.

Everyone is the same when they walk onto my matts and there in lies the beauty of training. You are not your pain, your beauty, your loss, your achievements or your struggle. You are the why in what you are doing in that moment for yourself. All doubts leave, all worries are forgotten and you are there for just you.

The individual stories and hard work of my clients are Oscar-winning moments of their lives. I cherish every moment being apart of their growth and no matter what stage of life or goals they have been thru, I know that they have worked thru some amazing odds to shine as brightly as they can. What makes these individuals different from you?

Between their why and yours, they have found that the why is the love of themselves. They have realized somewhere along the way in one of those lightbulb moments that time is needed for themselves to rediscover new things, new goals, push boundaries and live without fear or judgement.

In that time and space all traps of society are forgotten, worries are replaced with endorphins and sweat is your friend.

To be there for yourself means you are better out there in your field of dreams. Your why becomes you and it shines from within.

My mats have a lifetime of stories from the ages of 5 yrs to 75 and thru all the years there has not been one moment that I haven’t felt blessed to be in the company of such awe-inspiring humans.   You are my why and I thank you all for allowing me to be apart of your journey.

And I leave you with this, that undiscovered artist, holds exhibitions all over the world. That rock group has hit the top ten in the Uk and Australia, that actress has just walked the red carpet and the screenwriter just got his first signing of a movie. The bride to be is now pregnant, the cancer survivor is a mom of 2 and kicking it everyday, the divorcee is in a new relationship, the pole dancer is about to get married, the pilot is now a solo and the Mom of three feels empowered sexy and strong.

I am the WHY.

 

#rubyrose #theveronicas #starfire #cancer #philnichols #barricuda #dennythetrainer #fightingyourdemons #sweatsmileswear #iamthiswoman #boxchick #trainer #marriage #fitness #mindset #thailand #boxcamp #boxculture #rawartwarriors #welcometothejungle

 

 

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Cogitation’s on Dengue; A letter to Our Lady.

 

 

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What started off as a bout of food poisoning had actually spiralled into what would now be my third bout of Dengue. On last count there were 5 strains with the possibility of now a 6th. For those that have never had the experience and I for one do not wish this on anyone, it is an experience which gets into your head.

 

 

And yes, people die from it.

Looking back the signs were all there. One would think after having it twice before I could have read myself better, however hindsight is a great thing and Dengue has it’s own rule book. It is here where you have to go within to come back out.

I am a catholic woman, who raised three children in the faith. Actually, I did this the opposite way around, I was baptised years later but that’s another story.

I don’t necessarliy go around singing kumbaya, but I have a deep faith that I carry around in my little pocket. A faith that I reach out to express my gratitude and in the more obvious cases when times are hard. Everyone has their own way, thank God for that. In Thailand where I currently reside, there are the breathtaking temples, incense, candles, barefeet and quiet chanting. All of us who reside here respect the traditions of the Buddism culture and that in itself always calms me.

For me, I too pray quietly, I send out good thoughts, I talk things out in calmness and then there are times when I just write in prayer. Yesterday was no different.

Please remember, Dengue is a disease that gets into the darkest areas of your mind, the ones you thought you had already conquered. It’s probably one of the biggest tests mentally I have ever had to endure. And as I write this I just realised I am also a little superstitious, as I just knocked on wood that I wouldn’t succumb to a 4th ‘experience’.

The stages of Dengue are hard to diagnose as the same symptoms of food poisoning or a bad flu could easily be mistaken for them. It is only when you are three quarters of the way in it, and you start to realise that water looks like molten lava and food looks like one of those horror movies where you think it’s rice and it moves around like maggots!! Then and only then, you realize the twisted tale of what you are about to succumb too.

Each strain is unique and cleverly designed to mess with your head. Externally you feel weak, loss of appetite and desire to drink fluids, head swelling and headaches that never leave the back of your eyes to entering the final stages of  body rashes and then the grand finale…the nightmares.

Yesterday the nightmares were so extreme, I decided I needed some external guidance to deal with my internal hell and so I wrote to the most non-judgmental woman out there, Our Lady.

This is my letter to Our Lady,

I am confused and I have to admit angry. The selfish side of me always wonders why I am in purgatory, why so much pain and loss. But the worst, why so much guilt when I know others have trespassed me?

Where to go from here? The stones I am unturning are not leading me to good fortune but just more hurt. I am assuming a more sensibe person would stop unturning those rocks and just step on them and walk forward, maybe even crush a few along the way.

Here I am again, short of money, short of sourcing and low on energy.

In truth, this year has been the hardest so far, so many realisations of what has been lost, of friends who were fairweather. and most of all of people taking advantage of our compassion and empathy. It has hurt us financially on so many levels, but most importantly on our emotional bank balance.

But I guess you have been thru all of this. How did you overcome such obstacles? In words they are grief, loss, fear, hardship, anger, trauma, how did you rise above all this and become so, I suppose, so Saintly?

If you were to sit down here with me now, this is what I would imagine or maybe even hope you would say to me, woman to woman, mother to mother, warrior to warrior.

Lisa, you talk of letting go, but you haven’t had the courage to fully understand what letting go means.

To let go is to free yourself, not of your love for others, but of your reliablity on their love to make you who you are. You my love, are not made up of them, they are made of you.

In my experience I could have died there right beside my son and willingly, but that was not my purpose. He had his road to walk and yet I was the one who gave him legs.

You have both given your strength, compassion and patience to all those that have crossed you and you will again. Only this time, like I have done for myself, you must rise above self. Look beyond who you percieve yourelf to be and see how others see you.

The rest, or sickness that you are going thru is the finality of your test. You have shown great strength and so many people need you and your courage. Be courageous now and let happiness in. See your beauty that goes beyond a mirror, see what your husband sees in you and shine out. Your cracks are merely the light trying desperately to get out.

Trust is what is holding you back. I am asking you now to trust me, trust what I am putting across your path is knowledge that you will need for your higher purpose. Your life has always been one to give hope to people to shine when others couldn’t. Let me reflect on your past (only for a moment) to show you your present.

You were a child that had to raise adults and make them feel better about themselves, so too was your soulmate.

You were chosen to lead your village across your country as their representative:so to was your soulmate.

You chose a man who was always going to create madness for you but you thought you could save him, your soulmate made the same sacrifice.

You train in helping the sick, the weak, the fat, the uninspired and those with low self esteem, again, so too does your soul mate.

You have the power in you, it is about facing your higher self now and asking you to rise up, heal first and regroup. The courage is in letting go, self belief, realising that no matter what you do not everyone is going to like it, even the ones you love the most. Trust me on this one.

You do it anyway, because that is your purpose-Not your purgatory!

You are loved xx

I wrote this 3 days ago, in the midst of the nightmares and just re-read it. To some this may seem a little crazy, but as the writing points out, ‘Not everyone is going to like it, even the ones you love the most,  do it anyway’.

I am this woman

#ourlady #thereturnofdengue #trustinthyself #talkitout #writeitout #notalone #inmypocket #trainer #purpose #alittlecrazy #whoisnt #sacrifice #detoxdengue #loveconquersall

About

 

 

The day I hit my best friend

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We had antagonized each other all week.  Each of us trying to pysche the other out with friendly banter, gif fights and emoji captions.  In my corner, 7 years under my belt of boxing training, speed and small stature and in her corner, flexibility, height and yogi aesthetics(not too mention a long reach).

We both joked that if it all got to harry we would jump in to interpretive dance.

I started boxing seven years ago, taking lessons in stand up boxing and kickboxing.  As a trainer I thought it was a great tool to teach clients with, not only from the physical aspect but the mindset that comes with it. Little did I know it was going to be my consistent in my life there after.

I married a professional boxer and coach years later, and I remember going into his gym on one of our first dates (as you do) and being incredibly impressed with the boxers that were training and being trained.  Their grace in the ring, their focus at learning their skills and the consistent drive to give it their best every time they entered the ring. I also noticed the amazing camaraderie after each round, the hugs that were given after each fight knowing that moments before they had felt the bone crushing hit to their ribs from their opponent or a left hook to the jaw caught off guard.

Although I have trained everyday for years and coached alongside my husband, not once would I ever consider going in to the ring myself.  For one, my husband had always sent me in as the offence trainer, I could hit but they could not hit back.  The lesson for them was to try to avoid being hit as well as to be able to control their emotions when in battle.

If you have never been in the ring, controlling emotions is very difficult and if you have never been hit, the intensity of your excitement becomes amped to the enth degree once you hear the sound of the bell.

We have a 3 rule system in our club, referring to the fact that you need to at least make 3 sessions of training each week before you are even allowed to enter in. That also refers to and includes training in the art of boxing, the foundations as well as a few months under your belt (no pun intended) as a rule of thumb, to be able to spar.

My girlfriend and I fit all of the above categories.  For one Jules has been a Raw Art MC Member for over a year now, and although she has been working all around the world as the Yogi Guru that she is, she has managed to find boxing gyms wherever she is to stay on point.  Proudly sending photos of herself in the Uk and may I add impressing those within those gyms with her skills.  But not once, did we consider, that either one of us would be put in the ring to spar against each other.

For my part it was time to go in, there was a moment about 9 months ago where it all came together for me as far as learning to take a hit.  For years I would be horribly offended if I did get the hit of the glove against my face, it could literally bring me to tears.  There is a rule usually, that a trainer can’t train someone he loves, and there has been times when my husband/ coach has watched me have meltdowns as my ego played itself out in a multitude of emotions, from being offended, hurt, angry and embarrassed.  Each time I learned something more about myself after those meltdowns and he as always supportive, would tell me to get back in and try it again.

As Jules and I trained all week, the hype around our tete a tete was felt throughout the MC. Each member goading us on in a supportive manner, but cheeky at the same time.  I would whisper in her ear that her reach was going to get me and she would scoff and say, ‘Are you kidding me, your faster than I am’.  That afternoon we were sending each other text messages with characters cracking their knuckles and mini boxers dancing around in victory.

In my mind we were in the throws of the Holm vs Rousey controversey , the lights of the MGM in our eyes, the crowd cheering us on and bets being waged all over Vegas. As you can see the mind is a powerful tool, in this particular instance delusional ,but powerful none the less.  I started thinking about these warrior chicks, and on what I am sure is a minuscule level of what they are up against, emotions do run high regardless.

The day arrived and Jules walked onto the matts, incredibly pale, eyes slightly dilated mouthing to me as she entered, ‘I feel like I am going to vomit!!

I too had to admit the feeling was mutual. My husband/trainer only that morning had noticed I was slightly off centre, dropping things, repeating myself and completely tuned out to conversations.   As my mouthguard was being fitted and my wraps were going on it all felt a bit surreal. We were actually going to willingly go in and try to punch each other. Our only rule, ‘No Boob shots!!

Our gloves on, we entered the ring, tapped gloves and waited for the bell to toll. And then, IT was on,we were in it, I mean really in it.  We danced around each other, everything we had been trained for was in our minds watching each others moves like a game of chess.

I don’t remember who threw the first punch and it doesn’t matter.  As the bell went off announcing our first round, we embraced each other with a huge hug and realised each of us had forgotten to breathe.  The first rule of boxing was broken, oh and the second rule, I broke the, ‘No boob shot’rule!(sorry babe).

We completed 5 rounds against each other,each round only one minute long but the intensity and the sweat felt like 3minutes after 12 rounds.  Our hands shaking, our eyes glowing our minds alert, we were damn proud of each other and ourselves.

So here’s the thing, the day I hit my best friend was one of the best days of my life.  As far as a bucket list is concerned, get it on yours.  Face your fears,you won’t be disappointed.

I am this woman

 

I am Fighting Your Demons

I am not sure if apologies are necessary, but I will do one just the same.

Writing has been taking up all of my time, which leads me to be a hermit and indulge in the artistic side of creating, which usually means becoming an isolated asshole actually!

So, my apology is to the fact that I haven’t had the space of mind to write to you from here, but please know I am writing.  If you have never undertaken the labour of love which is creating a book then let me tell you it is without a doubt, time consuming, all consuming and leaves you very bleary eyed and lacking any form of being able to articulate a normal conversation outside of the parameters of the pages you are staring at.

Every situation turns into a new setting and before you know it you are staring at strangers trying to capture the movements in words.  On that note, apologies to the poor lady in the ice blue dress with the wind gently caressing your hair as you order your Pina Colada from the bar, the sun gently setting behind your…oh shit there I go again.

It could be worse, I could not have the time to be able to create.  Ugh, just writing that gives me the heeby jeebies.  My creative hand has usually been attached to a paint brush, but with all of our travelling to create my husband’s books, carting around paints and canvas was not an option-thank you airlines all over the world for charging so much in baggage fees.

I started this blog with the understanding that I was venting, letting go of demons, expressing my pain and hoping that thru all of my words someone out there could rely on the fact that they are not alone in their daily struggles.  We all have our own battles to fight and we all have our own unique way of dealing with that.

I would like to thank you, each and every one of you for your support in this past year with I Am this Woman, as it has been the canvas for my novel to unfold upon.  Like layers of paint, I have been slowly building my own Mona Lisa.

The last time I put brush to hand was to do a self-portrait of my husband, he was in the process of completing his second book and based on my first paragraph, ‘Which means becoming an isolated asshole’, I had some time and space to turn his book into a piece of art.  I wasn’t able to complete it and it still rests in Scotland, one day I hope to return to it and put the final pieces of his words on it.  For now though it is a reminder to me that creating, of any form is a healthy expression and one that all should try.

 

And on that note, I Am Off, off to create, off to become that indulgent artistic brat that we all know and love (she says with a wink)….off to describe every nuance of a piece of sand.

I am that artist, I am that writer, I am that asshole, I am a creator, but most of all I am this Woman.

Title-Fighting Your Demons,

Self Portrait-Denny Denholm

Mixed Medium on Acrylic

Artist-LXO

 

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I Am putting my training hat back on.

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Last week I had to come to the decision that I have been focussing way too much on the past.

I have found for me ,for now, that when old wounds kept being reopened, I was not allowing myself to heal and therefore re creating the patterns of the pain.  This week I am relearning how to carry the past on my shoulders and it came down to one simple solution-Stop!

A wonderful friend got in contact with me and suggested to put my tools down for awhile, as in my writing tools.

“A month even”, she went on to say, “ Let time just be and let the space that is there be calm not stress. Let there be some time to just be”.

So, in this past week I have taken her advice to heart and I have just stopped. Stopped dwelling, regretting, worrying and above all writing.

There is, however, one thing from my past that I can’t seem to give up and that is training. Training, whether it is going for a run, skipping, boxing, swimming you name it, I haven’t been able to give that up. It is the one consistent thing (besides my husband) that keeps me smiling, feeling strong and getting that youthful twinkle back in my eyes. And when I have simple meditative moments like being able to pull off a double under at the age of 47, I am quite proud of that.   For those that don’t know, that’s skipping jargon for doing two rotations in one jump. Yup, I am proud of that!

It’s the simple things in life so it seems.

Here I am, back on the matts officially and it feels good. It feels great actually, to be around people that are inspired by what I have to offer and say. As a trainer it is a self fufilling career as it is always a win win. My role is to educate and motivate you to be the best and get the best from you. What you give me is your trust, your dedication to work and your grit to get in there and be challenged by me…The Silent Assasin!

My husband and I have been welcomed into the family of Gym & Fitness Koh Toa and we feel very honored to be in such a top class establishment. I have been in gyms all around the world from Scotland’s Forgewood Boxing Club to my own studio’s in Australia and of course the mecca for me WildCard in L.A. with Freddie Roach.

Whether I have been a trainer or I am being trained, one thing is for certain, I have never left the matts without smiling, swearing(it’s good for you) and a hell of a lot of chin sweat.

If you are wondering about my writing here, not to worry I have heaps I want to tell you but if you can’t find me here you can find me in Thailand cranking the Foo Fighters and listening to the sweet sound of ropes tapping, gloves being strapped on and boxing bags thumping.

So to hell with the past for now, let’s bring back some positive energy and it’s starting with me.

Lxo aka The Silent Assasin

You can find Lisa and her partner Denny at Gym and Fitness Koh Toa.

Their next event starts: August 11th

Event: Internationally renowned 32B Free Challenges.

Have a look at our 32B Free challenge : Come get some

https://web.facebook.com/32bfree/

 

It’s time to sweat, smile and swear…see you on the matts

Lxo

 

Who would want you?

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Who would want you?

I had left my husband months before, tried to leave rather. I was back in 4 hours after the pleading and begging over the phone, the endless promises of, “ I will change!’ I knew, deep in my heart that wouldn’t happen, but the reality was I was a 40 something woman, a mother of three and had a responsibility to try for the sake of the family.

But how long is a piece of string? How long do you keep your life on hold in the hopes that one day all those promises will come true? And better yet, How do I set an example to my young daughter that abuse is never ok? or to my sons that treating woman badly is not OK? As they were getting older, they too were questioning my belief systems. For I wasn’t practicing what I preached, not even close.

‘Just get us out of here,’ my daughter pleaded one night. I had just turned 40, my 40th birthday party was in true form to the standards we had all grown accustomed to and let him get away with. He had gone from belittling the guests, to hitting on woman, to abusing his kids and finally to throwing out my presents and smashing the rented glassware.

As my daughter stood behind the door, slightly ajar, I could see her tears and her fear, “Why do you put up with this!”….Why indeed.

I was doing it for them I thought, I was trying to keep it together for the sake of the family, for the fear of being alone, broke, lost, lonely, used up. Then I realized I was already those things when I tried to look at myself in the mirror.

Yet I had tried bloody hard to keep it all together. I tried when the bottles of wine would come clanging up the driveway, I tried when he threatened the kids, I tried when his vicious words would keep pouring out nonstop abuse…I tried when he would pass out every night, I tried when he would spit tones of inadequacy…lord knows I tried. For 19 years I tried.

How long do you stay in an abusive marriage? What is the code of conduct? I tried thru marriage counseling, I tried to keep the kids on their best behavior, I tried to keep my house the cleanest it could be, I tried to be Suzy homemaker (even though my name is clearly Lisa), I tried passiveness, I tried loneliness, I tried giving up friends, and when I realized how hard I had been trying, I changed a few vowels around and came up with TIRED!

I was so tired. Tired of the eggshell floor, tired of the accusations, tired of not being allowed to grow because he couldn’t, tired of my children watching abuse and thinking it was the norm.

That’s the key thing with relationships; each of us will grow at different times. Not always at the same time, but if you are truly meant to be in that friendship/relationship then each one of you has to acknowledge that change is inevitable. Each day I change, a new wrinkle here, a new white hair there, nature tells you, you are changing.

I could have tried to hold back the changes, but Botox and boob jobs were never going to be for me. He insisted if I was to have the above, then he would love me more. Actually he would always love me more if I changed for him the way he wanted that change.

Who is anyone to tell you to change for them? Change is for you; you are not on anyone’s time frame of how you should change.

4 months later I was back in the same position. Sitting all business like with his sister, a 30 something, single woman with only her career and her endless degrees of paperback knowledge to contend with. After I had explained the circumstances, tried to make sense of this existence and how it had to stop. This modern day woman of the world had this pearl for me, ‘But, honestly Lisa, Who would want you? You have 3 kids, your over 40 and face it, you come with a lot of baggage! Not words of, as a woman you shouldn’t stand for this, or I am ashamed that you had to go thru this. No, there was no sisterhood support, actually she just shrugged and kept with her line of thinking…’Who would want you?

I thought about that for about 2 seconds, to be honest the cold had now set in and at the same time a burning rage. My eyes set straight ahead knowing my next steps. In my heart I was looking for me, I had been lost trying so hard to be everything for everyone else that I wasn’t interested in who would want me!!!

I was interested in if I would want me, if I could look at myself in the mirror and be proud of that woman who was changing. Changing from a young girl on her own, changing from a newly married woman to a mother of three. I wanted my changes to be appreciated not held onto like a bonsai tree. I was interested in my children seeing a woman stand up for what was right. If I wanted anyone to, ‘want me’, it would be them.

I left the next day, quietly packing my bags. He and I had spoken the night before in a long stand off. Reasoning was difficult, there were never going to be enough words, once a loyal person is pushed and the indifference sets in, there is no going back.

He had 5 key statements in desperation to make me stay, for this change to not take place.

1.If you leave me I will kill you

2.If you leave me I will kill the children

3.If you leave me I will kill you and the children

4.I will kill myself

5.Let me take you out for dinner and everything will be alright.

To answer her question, ‘Who would want me?

I’ll tell you who would want me… even though my losses have been high, I can finally look at myself in the mirror and know that change is inevitable, that being smothered, abused and disregarded is not what you are here in this life for.

I am here for me! Once that had been established, once I could honestly be me and sit in my skin, the who comes, the wants arrive, the love flows and you realize that piece of string is yours alone to measure.

I have changed again, a little older, a lot more under my belt, and I am with an amazing man who has watched from beside me those changes take place. In fact he encourages them, loves the fact we are changing, sometimes together other times encouraging from the sidelines.

I am this Woman.  Who would want me?  I would x

I AM just like you

 

 

 

 

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I am just like you.

In fact I am you. I am 18 going to college and working two jobs, I am 27 with my second baby on the way, I am 32 with my third baby arriving, I am 42 going thru a divorce and custody battle, I am heading towards 50 and starting to be comfortable in my skin. I am you and you are me. That statement above is my life in decades to this day. I too, like you have had a multiple number of excuses to not be healthy, to not look after myself, to put others first and to not make time for me.

Reading them back, even I can see that they are legitimate reasons to not being able to find the time. I have real life issues, just like you. What I want to do is show you how you can take an excuse and turn it into an opportunity to change your perspective.

Years ago, too many to mention, I became a Personal Trainer. At the time I was in my mid-thirties entering into what would be considered a younger persons environment.

As my client list grew and word of mouth started to increase my business, I found myself opening my first studio in Australia, which I named HOTBOD. This wasn’t a grandiouse place, by no means. The space was no bigger than 100 metres by 50. Just large enough for a skipping rope and a towel.

In my years of experience of being a trainer I have found that the hardest part for anyone trying to maintain a balanced existence is being consistent. So many things get in the way, important things. Illness is usually the predominant factor whether self inflicted or the common cold. To be able to rock up for your own life is hard.

It is actually easier to have an excuse than to make a date or a time for you. And these excuses are by no means an accusation that your lazy, what you have to own is that they are a realization that you didn’t think enough of yourself to take time out for you.

I have to say I am renowned for putting myself last and everything else first so I suppose that is my excuse and I work on that daily. I am not alone in that. The majority of my clients have always been majority women and we are a funny bunch to say the least. And not in the haha funny but in the huh funny. We want everyone in our life to be happy and will make those sacrifices accordingly, the first being not present for ourselves.

We have many obligations in our life, family of course is always to be number one. Next is work as that keeps the family going and second, third, fourth hell all the way to twenty and everything else in between we are obligated to.

School drop offs, concerts, after school activities, husbands, friends, house maintenance, cooking, shopping this endless list of life. Sometimes you can feel like a used mop, after being run across the floor and then squeezed out only to be dipped back in the murky waters again yet hoping for a shiny surface. But you won’t get a shiny surface if the water is murky. Murky water just keeps getting murkier, in order for a clean start one must change that water.

There are society standards blazing at us, gossip mongers being haters and everyone keeping up with the Jones’s whoever the hell they are their standards are by far unachievable and they have a lot to answer for. Must be hard to be a Jones, just saying.

Set backs are the norm, consistency is the hard part. Please do not beat yourself up over this, we are all in the same wash.

My husband and I designed a course years ago in Australia called the 32B Free Challenge. The course consisted of 3 weeks, training 4 times a week inclusive of our detox and our metabolic nutritional system. It was a success, not only in the turnout, but most importantly in the results. The theory is it takes 21 days to rid yourself of old habits and instead replace them with positive and motivational ones.

The response was fantastic in that I watched shy women turn into strong inspirations to their friends and families, I watched men throw their first punch and lose 14 kgs. But it went on to do much more as those that were apart of our fitness journey went onto become successful trainers, crossfit owners and body builders. How awe inspiring is that to know that we had touched their lives and motivated them to have fitness and a positive attitude thru our courses.

32B Free had been designed for you, the inconsistant globe trotter, whether your globe is four streets between the school drop off and the grocery store to home to travelling 13 countries in a year. Trying to maintain being in shape,is to be your biggest challenge.

Can’t we have it all, my head screams. Others make it look so easy. I myself have been accused of making it look easy. Please note anything in life that looks easy isn’t. Fact. Follow any sports person, any great chef or for me a trainer who is heading into her 50’s and yet still gets asked why I look only in my early 40’s. All of us will say it was sacrifice, hard work, passion and support, and here’s the big one, being lonely.

I believe why 32B Free worked was because we took that lonliness away, we created achievable goals and others to work towards. And we laughed, cried, smiled, sweat a lot, but we swore alot more.

Fitness, a group of like minded people pushing me on got me thru depression, fear and opened the door to happiness and freedom. Maybe we can sweat, smile and swear together someday, I would really like that.

I am just like you. I am that Trainer. I am Hotbod. I am 32B Free.

I AM Married to a Royal Marine

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I AM married to a Royal Marine

I hadn’t really taken in the whole impact that I was married to a Royal Marine until the shit really hit the fan. A Royal Marine has 3 Rules they live by:

1)Buddy first, self last

2)Laugh in the face of adversity

3) To walk where others fear to tread

September 2012 was an interesting time. Actually that was the year that we married in Chaing Mai in Thailand. We had been on a sabitical in a Bhuddist Monastery for our honeymoon, as you do, and over those days were kept in separate dormitories as well as eating areas. We were not allowed to make eye contact or pass messages to each other.

Every morning at 4am a gong was rung and all those staying in the monastery would make their way, bleary eyed to the community hall and begin the day with a yoga stretch, then a vegetarian breakfast followed by a structure of working meditation.

To not speak for a whole day was difficult, by day two I was completely batty yet by day 3 the monkey chatter in my head had calmed down. I am far from a yogi and getting into sitting meditation I did find quite hard, however I really enjoyed the walking meditation.

It was during the walking meditation that I started to feel that something wasn’t right. The day had been overcast and humid, yet whenever I closed my eyes all I could see was yellow. Bright yellow, as if I had been staring into the sun and there was that burnt impression behind my eyelids, but when I opened my eyes to check again, there was nothing but dark clouds.

That evening we finished up our basic meal, washed and then headed back to the hall. My thoughts were still with that intense color and why it was still physically upsetting me, but I wasn’t able to talk with anyone let alone My Royal. As we took our places within the hall I could sense Denny now staring at me, which is completely against all rules. I broke protocol for a few seconds and looked at him, his eyes were urgent and he put up his hand, 5 minutes he mouthed. I knew what he meant, I had felt it too, and yet we hadn’t spoken…something was not right.

6 months earlier

Our honeymoon had started with the intention that we would go offline for a month. It had been a hard year, leaving the kids, divorce and the horrible daily emails and hate mail that was a constant barrage. 6 months before our wedding I had been in court trying to gain access to my children. The judge that day had said the case was too complicated and that I would not be back on the family courts roster until another 6-8 months. That nearly killed me, full stop.

I laid in my bed for days, I even looked at our 11th floor apartment and thought what the hell just jump!! Denny knew it was bad, but he is also a Royal and that means you do not sit around and wait for shit to keep happening, you make shit happen. By Boxing day of 2011 we were on our way to Dubai, he wasn’t going to have me lying around, depressed and miserable over a situation I now could not even comprehend fixing.

As a trainer I have always been fit, but as the loss of my children and financial dramas unfolded so to did my fitness. I was training, all the time actually, I was breaking and didn’t care. We arrived into Dubai late that evening and Denny was to start work the next morning. There was no time for him to show me around, I was left to my own devices to explore.   We lived in a hotel suite, just a few blocks from his office, on the top floor was a gym. Instead of exploring the city, I went right back into my training head. After a week or so, my injuries were still piling up and yet that was the only thing I wanted to hold onto. As week one turned to week two, Denny took action. ‘I want you to get fat, I want you to heal your body and learn to be who you are in this new skin’.

First of all, who says that? And second of all, how do I let go?

And so it began, dinners out, big Iraqui lunches and a complete ban from the top floor!! He indulged me in any thing foodie, he was on a mission. 8kg later I had a fuller face, my injuries were lessening and I was starting to find my smile.   He took me skiing again, yes Dubai has an indoor ski resort!! If you ever get the chance to visit this place it is a Disneyland for adults, dubachery and anything you can think of you can get. After 6 months we headed to Thailand and with my now fully formed booty, regretfully realizing I am now in the land of smiles and string bikinis, we started our life.

Monastery

After my five minute warning, instead of sitting down I excused myself and headed to my dorm. It took me less than 5 minutes to pack my meager bag and head to the main office, there he was My Royal, already waiting. If you haven’t spoken for a few days let alone a week you will find that you have lost your voice. It actually is a bit of a strain to speak and form words.We walked out of the monastery, silent, both looking into each others eyes, the emotions were raw and not tangible to put words to.

‘Somethings not right’, I finally voiced. ‘I know, I felt something strange when we were walking, and I know we have to get back to our island. We booked into a hotel for the evening and the next morning were on a boat back.

As we made our way to our villa I dropped off our months worth of laundry, picked up some supplies and headed home. As we hadn’t been online, and wanted to share our recent marriage to our family and friends, we picked up our computers with the intention of seeing what had been going on in a month.

The first Fb message was from my sister in Canada, the message was ominous. It read, “Lisa, I don’t know what is going on, and it’s either a sick joke or it’s real, but your daughter has just posted, ‘Dad, rest in peace’. She went on to say that the post was then removed and her page was taken down. That feeling from the monastery came back again. My heart sunk, My Royal took action. He called our good friend in Australia, who immediately said let me go to the family and check things out.

Two hours later a message had come thru, my ex-husband was dead, the family was accusing me of his death and they had taken my children to the police to confess to disavow me as there mother. Like I said, when the shit hits the fan.

We were on the next boat out, actually it’s a boat, a plane and another plane to get off the island. Too be honest I don’t remember much of the journey back, only that the Royal beside me was stoic, strong and calm.

As we arrived into Brisbane we were both very aware that I had been threatened with being arrested by the police. My in-laws had sent a message thru our friend that they were accusing me of being a drug mule and a murderer…..yeah, let that set in, oh and the kids were now to be with my sister in-law, she will be a better mother they had said.

It took me a week to locate my youngest, and when I did, I made a decision that I wasn’t giving him back. They had taken my children, tried to hide their father’s death and now were blaming me of murder. Well to the rap sheet I was going to add kidnapping!!

In the days after it was a flurry of passports, screams from my older children and threats. To this day I can not even imagine what they had to go thru, the loss of their Dad and then the annihilation of there Mother. The older two had chosen but my youngest wasn’t having any of it.

We arrived at the airport late a few days later, enroute back to Thailand. My 11yr old was so desperately just wanting to get on that plane. My Royal, thru the whole thing was still there standing strong, taking in all of our pain and trying to shield us from whatever came at us.

Denny went thru customs first, he was wearing a long sleeve button down white shirt and pair of jeans. My son and I were next in line to go thru, as I approached and the officer looked to our passports, he asked me kindly to stand to the side. My heart sank, Denny and I had had this conversation the night before, if I didn’t make it thru then we weren’t in a financial position for him to fly back in again. I watched him pause outside of passport control and out of the corner of my eye I could see 3 officers heading towards me and my son.

They grabbed me, and I grabbed my son…we were both crying, scared of what was to happen to us next.

But what happened next no one saw coming, for the officers as quickly as they had grabbed me were now running towards the passport control line.

All I could make out was a white long sleeved shirt, with a passport in his hand and the other over his heart.

‘I come in peace ‘,he said, and I am not leaving without my family’.

That my friends, is a Royal Marine.

I AM Married to a Royal Marine

 

 

 

 

I am Back

I am back

It’s been four months since I started my blog. And 2 months since I have written anything. I kind of lost my mojo, or rather found it. Let me explain, we are back in Thailand. Surrounded by amazing, inspiring, creatives, who I love so much. And what happens in environments like this is that you are continually creative in so many other areas that finding time to take it all in, stop the merry go round and write about it proves to be harder than one would expect.

This is just one of my days…Training in our MC with brave and fit warriors who only improve everyday. Dinner at our best mates 5 star restaurant and wine bar, The Gallery, where we are spoiled rotten with the best Thai food on this planet. An evening of listening to Simon Wright and Andy V from Australia, mesmerise us with their talents on Loop, Guitar and Sax while the ocean laps gently across the shore. An invite to the amazing Cape Shark, a 7 star villa sanctuary that has been designed fit enough for the Princess of Thailand.

And to top it all off, an evening cruise home with the love of my life on the back our bike, while the full moon lights are way home to our Jungle Fever Dollhouse.

So I apologise for not writing for awhile, actually I want to say sorry not sorry. My posts have always been filled with sadness, loss and complete tragedy and as much as I needed to express that pain, I no longer feel that. I thank you for all of your support and strength, believe me when I say, your love has been felt and without you in it I could not be here in this mindset.

I would like to share with you instead how from all of that, I have found myself again. How I don’t wake up anymore feeling lost, sad or confused… How I don’t feel like a victim…anymore.

In the past two months I have accepted my losses, picked myself and had an epiphany. I have lost 6 kilo’s, I train everday if not twice a day (except Sundays). I have grown, and from that lost one mojo in return for the other. I want you to know that you can do this too.

You don’t have to be on a tropical island, (although that does help) to adjust your glitch. Actually my glitch was on the matts one day, while my husband/coach was teaching me how to spar. Part of learning how to box is not only to know how to hit, but also how to be hit. How to, ‘roll with the punches’, and it really is a roll. We had started our 3 minute round, and in that time frame I was hit(gently but effectively) on the head or in the ribs or in the face….with each punch I found I couldn’t get out of the way. No matter how hard I tried to duck and weave, the punches kept landing. Tears started to roll down my face, memories started flooding back, I could feel the waves of regression sinking in on me as I struggled with my breathing. And this is where the epiphany came…this is what I had been doing all along. Ducking, weaving, resisting the cause but taking the pain.. I needed to grow and the only way was to take a deep breathe and walk into that punch, eyes wide open and ready to accept that I could get hurt.

That’s life for me, right there. In those 3 minutes I had the opportunity to either ride the crest of the past or walk into the ring with a plan, without fear or intimidation. I put my hands to my cheekbones, I opened my eyes and took a deep breathe. The tears stopped, the past melted and in front of me was me. My hardest opponent, and I won.

I am back.SAM_0027.JPG

I am Hotbod, I am that Trainer

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I am HotBod, I am that trainer

Like any great idea, THIS seemed like an amazing idea.

Ten years ago I became a trainer. I entered into a field that was deemed for younger, fitter, energizer bunnies of both the male and female type. I still remember at the time feeling like such an oldie as I entered into the classroom of what would be my future graduating class of 20 something’s.

Who did I think I was to be here? A Mom of three, past the age of lycra and not a top athlete. What could I offer?

….’just lil’ol me’…(echoed my insecurity)

When I was growing up, and things were all messed up, it was exercise that pulled me through. Not just any exercise, but real physical exercise. ‘The kind that you left all your problems at the door for’.

Where chin sweat was your ultimate goal!

In my background I am a skier, water skier, runner and what I found out about myself was that they were all solo sports. They were done on my own time, my own space and I always felt a sense of personal achievement when I conquered them.

When I discovered boxing, I had found my sport.

Boxing found me in my early thirties. Classes were being held at the local gym that had been around for over 30 years. The family that ran it knew everyone and everyone knew them. It was an old school gym, where weights had been collected over the years from garage sales and embroidered art of Rocky adorned the brick halls. Upstairs they had laid down fake green grass as matting. As long as you brought your towel you were sure not to catch anything. But hygiene aside, it had grit, and smelled like dirty socks that had been left in the corner, then sprayed with Dettol.

I loved it.

Boxing was a sport I could do on my own or in a group and yet still have my own space, create my own goals and work to get those throws right. But besides all that, I felt strong. Mentally strong. The bonus was that it worked everything about me, my shoulders, stomach, legs, ass, those jiggly bits…basically everything that every woman works towards.

How do I know….I am Hotbod, PT. That was the name of my studio. Sort of set myself up there, as once it was named, I had some big shoes to fill. Or rather Lorna Janes.

But the pressure just wasn’t on me, I applied it to anyone who walked thru those doors.

And they did come thru those doors. They came by word of mouth, curiosity and results.

Hotbod Studio was not a big, flashy space. It contained 6 kettle bells, a skipping rope, a fish named Balboa….and a Boxing bag. No scales and one mirror, oh and Art. Always art. In reality the ‘Studio’ was no bigger than a double bed. But it worked.

I was booked out from 5am til 9pm, 5 days a week. It turns out my age, my experience, my 3 children and my love of those clients who walked thru those studio doors was what they were looking for. But let’s face it, they came looking for results, and results they got!

Most had never experienced putting the gloves on, or having handwraps properly placed let alone given a couple of rounds. My clients had gone from never hitting a bag before to showing up with their own handwraps and their prized possessions, their very own gloves. They had pink, camouflage, silver, black, red, you name it….boxers were being built in white picket fence suburbia.

The stories, tears, swearing and absolute bursts of laughter were what kept us all going. As a trainer it became a self fulfilling prophecy, I was their to motivate and educate them. And little did they know they were helping me thru the darkest days of my life.

As a trainer, I met so many amazing people. Those times in that small space were some of the happiest days of my life. Weddings, births, engagements, divorce, death…it was all shared there.

Hotbod wasn’t just a good idea, it was an amazing idea. Lil’ol me created a space where people became empowered. And if you think it was easy, it wasn’t. For nothing that looks easy ever is.

Hotbod may have closed years ago, but the mission is still the same…if you aren’t sweating, smiling and swearing…you just aren’t doing it right.

Boxing never left me, in fact it saved me. I mean I loved the sport so much I went on to marry a Professional Boxer and open a boxing gym in Thaland.   To his credit, he has just launched his book, The Bible of Boxing.. http://dennydenholm.com

And yes I will shamelessly plug his book here, as it has all you need to learn about the sweet science that I absolutely adore and has been my fountain of youth for over ten years now.

Oh and I still wear lycra xo

I am that trainer, I am Hotbod and so are you