The fighter

The Fighter

I have this on my iPhone and no matter how crap or happy I feel, or where I am in my work out, it always makes me go harder and stronger.  I find strength in it. 

I celebrated my 2nd fitaversary on the 27th of December and as I reflect on what those 2 years have done for me the words of the song came and played their magic. 

 I saw it only fit to express my 2 years with it.

Just waking up in the morning

And to be well,

Quite honest with ya,
I ain't really sleep well

Ya ever feel like your train of thought's been derailed?

That's when you press on - Lee nails

Half the population's just waitin to see me fail

Yeah right, you're better off trying to freeze hell

Some of us do it for the females

And others do it for the retail

But I do it for the kids, life threw the towel in on

Every time you fall it's only making your chin strong

And I'll be in your corner like Mick, baby, 'til the end

Or when you hear a song from that big lady

Until the referee rings the bell
Until both your eyes start to swell

Until the crowd goes home
What we gonna do ya'll?


Give em hell, turn their heads

Gonna live life 'til we're dead.

Give me scars, give me pain

Then they'll say to me, say to me, say to me

There goes the fighter, there goes the fighter

Here comes the fighter
That's what they'll say to me, say to me, say to me,

This one's a fighter

And if I can last thirty rounds

There's no reason you should ever have your head down

Six foot five, two hundred and twenty pounds

Hailing from rock bottom, loserville, nothing town

Text book version of a kid going nowhere fast

And now I'm yelling, "Kiss my ass"

It's gonna take a couple right hooks, a few left jabs

For you to recognize you really ain't got it bad

Until the referee rings the bell
Until both your eyes start to swell
Until the crowd goes home
What we gonna do ya'll?

Give em hell, turn their heads

Gonna live life 'til we're dead.

Give me scars, give me pain

Then they'll say to me, say to me, say to me

There goes the fighter, there goes the fighter

Here comes the fighter
That's what they'll say to me, say to me, say to me,
This one's a fighter

Everybody put yo hands up
What we gonna do (hey!)  y'all?
What we gonna do (hey!)  y'all?

If you fall pick yourself up off the floor (get up)
And when your bones can't take no more (c'mon)

Just remember what you're here for
Cuz I know Imma damn sure

Give em hell, turn their heads

Gonna live life 'til we're dead.

Give me scars, give me pain

Then they'll say to me, say to me, say to me

There goes the fighter, there goes the fighter
Here comes the fighter

That's what they'll say to me, say to me, say to me,

This one's a fighter

'Til the referee rings the bell

'Til both ya eyes start to swell
'Til the crowd goes home,

What we gonna do kid?

Bring on 2014

And kick its arse is what this kid is going to do

xx

Running fun….or is that walking…meh its all happiness

Ive been wanting to do a blog post for the last few days and have had no idea how to start it.

Sitting here tonight, in bed, tears streaming down my face, snot bubbling out like no other, I decided now is the time. Enough fucking around Maz, get the shit out!!!!

Que picture one

Sunday 8th of December - 10km fun run at St Kilda - Sussan woman's fun run.  Waking time - 3.40am - leaving Mooroopna at 4am on the dot.  3 amigo's together, excited, half asleep and pumped we drove, killing a poor defenceless roo on the Hume in the process. 

 On the way decisions were made (will explain down further)

10km's done and dusted, some walked, some jogged, some run.

It felt fucking amazing to cross that line. That last bit, running it in was hard.  All I could think about was my dad, how much he told me to do it and how much I missed him.  Tears pricked my eyes and I swear to god, I saw him in the crowd near the finish line. 

Running always makes me think of dad.  He told me long ago that if I wanted to get fit that I should run from one light post to another, then walk until I got the next one, then do it all again.

Its funny cause I told him that's called interval training…nahh its light post miles….he told me.  

Light post miles mean everything to me now and at that finish line, 

I felt like I had done 1000's of them that day.

Feeling extremely high and after our decision from previous car trip down, Melinda and I joined Martine for the 5km walk, 15 mins after our 10km.

I have nothing but admiration, love and awe for these 2 girls.

They don't pretend to do extraordinary things, they just do them.

Getting up, having a go and fulfilling goals, pushing themselves and achieving greatness.

I couldn't of had 2 more awesome woman in my life.

They unknowingly have helped me out of a darkness, given me strength and never judged me on my capabilities or lack there off.

I cant thank them enough for what they did for me Sunday and I am so pleased that we had the chance to do something wonderful and tremendous together.

They, thoughts of my dad and the burning urge got to me pumped again when I got home at 1.30pm.

Checking my fit bit I went that's it, drive me to some stairs honey.

Stairs were found and I bumped my stair climb up to 50 sets for the day.

If that wasn't enough, pushy me took over and wanted my step total to get to 30,000 for the day on my fitbit.  I had 4000 steps to go.

Dressed in my finest pink bra *wolf whistle* and shitty legging's I decided that the driveway, behind the safety of the closed colour bond gate of course, would be my new little track.

I don't know how many times I ran up and down that fucker but my god, I did it.  

I ran for 20mins (ok ok I waddled) got one of the kids to get me a singlet top so we could open the middle gate and put our own misting section up *cough* sprinkler on low.

With the help of my babies, I did it. I didn't even have to push myself, I just did them.

We giggled, squealed and had fun.

That's what its all about isn't it?

Enjoying those special moments with the ones you love.

In the mean time

I'm trying hard to follow the following quote's.

Some days are easy then others but as long as I have them in the back of my mind, 

I know I'm trying to be the best me I can.

xxx

Maz

When no food is worse than bad food

The last 2 weeks have been a blur for me.  I sadly put my life, yet again on the back burner, putting everyone and thing first.  Arranging a funeral, flowers, a wake, my dad's paper work, getting things in order for mum, trying to comfort my children, work and trying to keep my shit together haven't been easy.
Sitting at my dad's service, my legs shaking inside and my face a blank wall, all I could think about was how the hell am I going to go forward and complete my 10km walk.

How can I get up, move my butt and do it knowing I wont be able to tell him I did it.

How can I get excited when I wont be able to hear how happy he was that I did it?

Yes stupid things to think of while dad's eulogy was being read out.

I am so grateful to those friends who have messaged me, thought of me and kept me somewhat sane.  Its hard to talk about dad to others.  I just want to scream,  curl up in a ball and cry myself to sleep.  I don't know when my feeling will return to normal or my mind will be able to process the last time I saw him.  Watching a man who was always strong, humble and independent crumble and die right before your eyes is something I will never forget.

The last 2 weeks Ive found myself slipping into those horrid old habits of mine.  Not eating , let alone drinking until later in the afternoon only to find myself stuffing my face in a blind fury.  Soft drink allowed itself to be tasty again, fried foods danced on my taste buds and my quanties became enough to feed a family of 4.  Exhaustion grabbed hold of me and my waking hours were dreaming about sleeping.  Sleeping hours were spent thinking about the what ifs and before I knew it dawn was up and I was trapped into the body says no mindset.

Wednesday's weigh in saw me right back to 115kg's.  What the fucking hell!!!

Wednesday's weigh in was the slap in the face I needed to wake up.

Down the sink I poured 6L of soft drink.

I bought my wheelie bin inside and emptied the SHIT yes SHIT food into it.  Fuck it, let the bin get fat.

Although I haven't gotten my arse back onto the footpath, I slept last night with the thanks of some sleeping tablets.  I woke this morning and felt different, awake for once.  My migraine of 4 days has finally gone and I'm taking the time today to do some cleaning, something I just haven't had the energy for.

Sunday I'll be walking the street's of St Kilda for the Sussan Women's Fun run.  Its going to be bittersweet for me but I'm going to plough through it with an awesome friend by my side and my dad in my heart.

Here's back to clean eating, water drinking and moving myself again.

Blue eyes forever more

Driving home today it hit me.

I'll never see your blue eyes twinkling at me.  I'll never hear you speak my name again in your thick German accent or feel the prickle of your beard on my face and shoulder as you hug me.
Instead, every time I close my eyes, I see the shock in yours and the bewildered look in your face as you silently left us.

To see your body so limp and defenceless, laying on the hospital bed was not the body of my dad.  You were always so strong, jumping up in a flash without hesitation yet here laid a man, thin, gaunt...broken.

We surrounded you, mum holding onto you, kissing your face. Us kids standing, touching you where we could so you knew we were there.  Your last moments were spent with us all, no mention of goodbye ever said.  Just love and smiles to comfort you to the end.
I massaged your feet and hands, feeling how cold they were, knowing nothing could help.  I felt so utterly helpless, watching you, frightened, fighting like hell right until you caught your last breath.

Your grandkids hugged you, kissed you and  cried. They knew how special and wonderful their Opa is and knew you just weren't right.

You knew to didn't you.  Knew for quiet a while.  I'll never forget when we went to Melbourne, when you said you were going to change your life.....but you knew then, I know you did.  You spent the last 6 months rectifying things, putting them into place .  You said you took strength from me when you went on your weight lose journey. You were proud of me for changing my life.  I took strength from you for always being so strong in everything you did.  You were always a determined man, nothing got in your way when you had your mind set to it......something that Jed always says rubbed off on me.

Right now though Papa, I really need your strength, god help me I don't know how I am going to cope not having you hear when I need to hear how shit really fall's!  I need your wisdom, your thoughts...shit me Papa I need you.

I had to go through some of your thing's today with mum. I know you wouldn't of given a shit but I felt like I was invading your personal space.  Finding mum's presents for Christmas and her birthday just another little tick in the box for you knowing what was happening. Dame you papa...why did you always have to be so dame organised!!!
Writing your Eulogy has come easier then I thought. I just hope I do your proud with how I worded it.

I found your favourite aftershave, placed it with the clothing to take to the undertaker tomorrow. Klaus got your harley boots out and cleaned them up. We even got your favourite hat aswell and those dame friggen false teeth you got fitted jsutthe day before you left us.

Mum's requested 55 roses for your casket..one for every year you were married. You always treated her like a Queen, always loved her, cherished her.  Papa, I promise you, I'll look after mum now. I'll be there for her when she needs me, shit I might even have to go to bloody bingo with her (you know exactly how much that excites me NOT)

Thank you dad, for loving my babies. For being proud of them for being the little people they are. Thank you for excepting how different they were. They loved you unconditionally you know.

Nikolaus is sad he couldn't come to you in hospital, he was to scared he would hurt you if he touched you. Wilhelm has been sick...you know how things hit him 24 hours after the fact. He loved how you kept pushing the face mask off your face in disgust and loved that you reached out for him and held him. Vyolett cant speak your name without crying. She's gone and pulled her gems out that you gave her last year cause they are magic and link her to you. Mateauz keeps telling me opa is in hospital but he died...why isn't opa coming home.

Thank you dad, for putting up with me in my fucked up teenage years. I know we had some serious shit happen then that we overcame. Thank you for always supporting me in all my adventures. You were my main person of support when I first starting maz-a-licious and were proud as hell when my business took off...thank you also for letting me know when to back away from it while it took over my life.

Thank you for excepting Jed into our family and loving him like he was your own son. He respected you immensely and loved you even more.

And I promise you, that I will continue to be healthy, to keep living a life worth living, exercise every day.

My next funrun is on the 8th of December - 10km's and the entire time your going to be there with me.


I love you papa.xx

Ending 2013 with a bang!!

This year I put caution to the wind.

I tried things that I only every dreamt off.  Climbed over those mind obstacles.

Never in my life would I have considered doing a fun run, let alone get muddy, get hot in the heat and have fun doing it.

I started the year with doing the Mad cow dash in March.

12km's of mud, water, sliding down hills on your arse, gravel in your knee's, wasp stings, chaffing on the arm, smelly bits, laughter, heat and happiness.

I couldn't of done it with a better group of ladies.

My cherry for adventure was popped.

Next was the Mother's Day Challenge in May

Vyolett who had been suffering with a bulging disc for months cried at the thought of not being able to do the 4km's with me.  

Thankfully, my little girl was well enough and ran 2km's...both of us side by side.

I cant tell you how proud of her I was and still am of her for giving it her all.

My little Bowreguard at aged 6 was happy as hell.

And because of this, we have decided to do it every year.  

I couldn't think of any better way to spend mothers day

 I signed up for the 5km pink ribbon run in August.

Heavily sick with a chest infection I got up and just tried.

No cheer squad, no one but me and I kicked my own arse.

I ran/walked it in 46 mins and was totally happy with the bench mark I set myself.

Fast forward to October.

I hit the road at 5am that morning to drive to Echuca for the Sweat V's Steam and catch up with the gorgeous Jodie.

We started together and went at our own paces.

Although I cut over 3 mins off my previous 5km time, it was here I realised how unfit and unprepared I was.

So many thoughts went through my head and well, lets just say it was the kick up the arse I needed.

Last weekend saw me and my buddy Melinda drive to St Kilda and complete the city to surf 14km section of the day.

There was no running, no competing, we kept a steady, even place and although the blisters on our feet from the 10km's walked the day prior (don't ask) we finished it in under 2 1/2 hours.

Was a gorgeous day, the atmosphere was encouraging, supportive and happy.

The views were fabulous, the smelly beach not so and the sunburn kept the memory of the day alive when we got back home.

My last fun run for the year will be held in a few weeks.

I'll be driving back down to Melbourne to complete the 10km section of the Susann's woman's fun run in aid of Breast Cancer Network Australia.

Something that hits home well and truly for our family as my beautiful mother inlaw Betty fought and hit that bugger on the head.

details of the fun run can be found HERE

I have set up a fundraising page to help raise fund's for the Breast Cancer Network Australia.

If you can find it in your heart to donate a little please pop over to

 my fundraising page

I'm hoping to raise $500 for BCNA

If you happen to go into my work (shameless plug now) Archer Street Takeaway in Shepparton, 

you'll see a little bottle on the counter top were  donations are  appreciated.

Now to look forward to what 2014 brings me

Bucket list of challenges great and small is being constructed.

watch this space

xxx Maz

you might of got a medal but you didnt come first fatty

Dear Sir on the tram

I'm sorry sir for how upset you were at the amount of people on the tram.

I'm sorry that you were  annoyed by the amount of people who were in your way when you were wanting to get off.

I apologise that you took my words of support the wrong way.  I was sincere and understood your frustration.

I have no apologise for the chuckle that I held in my throat when you decided to come back to the open door of the tram and tell me what you thought of my medal and my appearance.

Dear Sir

I for one know how hard it is when we're having a bad day.  The frustration when people block your route.  I climb road blocks every day of my life, trying to guide, love and help my special needs children and their siblings.  I jump hurdles with keeping my house clean and working part time.  I push barriers with my expectation's of my self.  I wake up every morning not knowing how bad the sickness I have lived with for over 3 years will effect me for the day.

I don't feel the need to degrade others to justify my inner arsehole in the process at a spur of a moment.

Yes I received a medal, which I wore proudly.  I worked hard to get that medal Sir.  I got myself up of the couch, up out of my sess of self pity and stood on my 2 feet.  I got those feet moving, one after the other whilst keeping my mouth shut from those foods that poisoned my body for a long time.
That medal was my token of greatness....my air punch for the last 23 months of hard work.
I didn't just walk 14km's for that baby. Oh no dear Sir.  I walked 100's of kilometres, in -4 degree's mornings, with rain hitting my face whilst it stung my arms.   I walked those kilometers with the self doubt, the negative in my mind.  Voices of all those doubters and haters in my ear,  laughing at me.  My tears, dear sir have been hard earned.  Those blisters on my feet and open wound's from falling have been my victory scares, my flesh medal's or love and honour.

And Dear Sir, whilst you felt the need to call me 'fatty' your words fell, sadly on deaf ear's.  I have been hurt by lesser words and smaller actions.  Your taunting word may have cut my heart like a knife back in the day but today I found it quiet humorous.  I pity your wife, with your high held expectation's on how a woman should look and strive for in her life.  Sad that you think every race must be won, instead of enjoying the fact that one can simply participate and complete something to satisfy your heart.  I dearly hope that you don't place such great expectations on her or your children.

Please enjoy the pictures of my how wonderful off a day I had.  Ive attached them to this post for your viewing enjoyment Sir.  Sadly they don't include the 3km's walk to the actual 'race' or the 3km's walk back to the hotel.  The also don't include the 10km's I walked in thongs yesterday but I doubt very much that would interest you at all.  My apologies again Sir.


Dear sir...no I didn't come first.  I was actually 8672 behind the winner.
But thank you sir for putting light on me, placing me into your verbal attack and helping me realise exactly how much I am winning in the little obstacle's I face everyday.


Kindest regards from the fatty who got a medal, but didn't come first.

Following the bread crumbs

Strange title I hear you say....yep but let me explain.

Remember Hansel and Gretel and how they left a trail of bread crumbs to find heir way home

BUT when they needed them they were gone...

Sadly my bread crumbs had vanished too

What do we do in that situation??

Start from where we started.

The beginning.

And build up from there, one step at a time.

Over the last 2 weeks I have done exactly that.

I rejoined the 12wbt program to shake up my brain and system.

Week one for me I made it my mission to drink 3L of water a day.

Fuck me do you realise how hard it is to actually think about drinking that every day.

Its mentally exhausting!

What time is it, do I need to drink another glass of water now or do I wait...

How much have I drank so far, how much do I need to drink.

Do i drink now cause I have to go out, will I piss myself if I drink to much and cant get to a loo

I stuck to it and now I don't even think about it.

How and why do you ask.

I got my good old Tupperware jugs out, the green being a 2L and the orange a 1L

I started with putting a few slices of lemon in the orange with mint, boiling the jug and making that my morning 'cuppa'.  I love drinking warm water and my gut handles it really well.

The 2L jug is for through the day and as I leave it on the bench I have my constant reminder to drink without stressing about how many glasses I have had. 

I also have a 1L water bottle that I take to work and drink in the 3 hours there.  That is on top of what I drink at home due to the heat there and the work I do.

Doing this has helped me down my 3L a day with ease.

No more head fuck's or stress.

Week 2 has been about my food.

Watching my goes in my mouth and 

really concentrating about the crap I have been eating

 and how it effect's my mind and body.

Eating bad food makes me sluggish, 

moody and plays havoc with my bowels.

Ive noticed in the last 2 weeks that my bowels 

have been fantastic *knock on wood*

and I have been alot clearer in the head aswell as not bloated to the point where I looked like I was 8 months pregnant again.

Ive swapped over the kids meal, the pizza, for food that feeds my soul with clean healthy foods that nourish my body and mind.  I'm done with eating body clogging crap.  I want colour and taste. I don't need grease and fat dripping down my chin to get a high of my food.

I want my food to tingle in my mouth to the point where it feels like its dancing a party in my mouth.

I want my eyes to love the look of the food, be seduced by its colour, it beauty.

The most satisfying thing I have noticed with take away food,

It has no colour and it smells the same.

Bit like sweaty balls. They all smell the same.

Week Three is remembering where I was almost 2 years ago.

Reminding myself why I changed my life back then.

Its hard when we  get wrapped up in the numbers and in the now.

Go back and reflect on our feelings back then, how we felt with ourselves, how we saw ourselves.

remember the lesson's we've learnt

thank ourselves for what we have done and respect  and recognise the good that has come

I have given myself a huge goal!!!

Its my magic number.

Numbers seem to drive me, sometimes to the point of utter stupidness but they do.

I no longer wear my polar HRM because I let the calorie count fuck me over.

To busy on burning off 2000 cal's a day and hating myself when I didn't have the scales going down.

that shit wont be happening.

WELL

This magic number is my goal for Christmas.

I'm not going to pray, beg or wish this number to happen.

No those days are long over.

I'm simply going to go back to the beginning, forget about where I have been

and start a fresh with eyes wide shut to my surrounding's.

Here's to a spring and summer full of adventure

good food, positive minds and no bread crumbs.