Cathy Zielske's Blog

Hello. My name is Inigo Montoya.

I was in the kitchen the other day making dinner and I realized—which happens to me every time I wear my black yoga pants and this particularly puffy oversized shirt from Old Navy—that I looked like a swashbuckling pirate.

I looked like the Dread Pirate Roberts, minus the mask and the tight little tushka.

Dan was sitting at the kitchen table and I brandished a shish-kebab skewer and did my best Mandy Patinkin. (I know, I know—Westley was the dread pirate Roberts, but stay with me here.) He snapped photos accordingly, at my request.

Then I saw the pics on my phone and it hit me: my body has really changed.

And not exactly in the way I've been shooting for.

I do not a-think you look like you think you look.

Now if you aren't a fan of laments, stop reading now. Not that I am planning this to be one big whine fest, but who can say where it will go once I get warmed up.

I realized the other day that I have been struggling with my weight since I was 30. Math genius that I am, this comes to 17 years of up, down, thin, plump—you know the drill.

It has been an issue for a good chunk of my time here on ol' big blue.

As I have written here before, my "therapist" (she says what we do really isn't therapy) has told me I simply keep this a problem in my life because it allows me to act like a child and indulge every whim rather than do what is needed, which is to feed my body healthy, nutrient dense food in appropriate amounts and to exercise.

As shocking as it is that I, in fact, pay her to tell me these things, the truth of the matter is, I believe her.

Here's the deal: I don't have the be skinny anymore. I tell myself this all the time and it's very comforting. It's very "I'm okay, you're okay." It's very touchy-feely. It's very "I am enough as I am."

But there is a part of me that knows deep down I use it as an excuse to continue keeping this a problem. To continue saying, "Oh hell! Life is short. Let's make cookies!"

But I never just make cookies.

I make batches of them and wash it all down with delicious, sugar-filled sodas. And potato chips. And copious amounts of Reese's Peanut Butter minis.

That's the child in me. That's the addict in me. And that's not okay. It's not enough.

Not only that, the future health consequences could be deadly. That is a fact.

Here's another fact: I can do better. Not super-model thin better. Just a healthier better. 

I know this experientially from the work I've done with my "therapist" since 2010. I've been making changes in so many areas of my life. It has been a laborious, painstaking process on so many levels. It has required me to look at my inadequacies, something that isn't fun and doesn't make me feel good.

I've spent a lifetime of trying to find ways to feel good. Eating crap is just one in a long list of things I've tried.

We make changes by facing facts and doing what is needed. That's where my head is at today, on this random day in April 2013. I'm shooting for competence. And adulthood.

Not feeling sorry for myself. Not putting judgments on anything.

Honestly, there's no other place I'd rather be that here, stumbling through and figuring it out as I go.

How's that for a Tale from the Scale?

This pirate-laden post has been brought to you by:

Move More, Eat Well isn't just about tough love. It's about connecting with what you need and doing the best you can to achieve your goals. It's a process that is neither easy nor automatic. Each month, I share more of this journey and scrapbook the story as I go. I've got a group of like minded women who are doing the same. You can join us any time during 2013. You never know what will inspire you to do what is neeed. For more information, click here.

p.s. I am not the Dread Pirate Roberts. My real name is Cathy.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chubby Hubby

This is not going to be a post about Ben & Jerry's ice cream.

Nor will it be about my decidedly non-chubby hubby Dan.

And while there is a link between them, this is really—surprise, surprise—all about me.

Many of you know I've been trying Move More and Eat Well for coming up on three years. 

You know because you've read about the ups, the downs and the many in-betweens of this little health quest of mine over the past 36 months. (And if you've been reading me even longer, many more whines have been posted along the way.) And you've shared a lot of your own very personal stories in the comments over these past many months.

This is not a whine post today. It, like some of my State of the Marriage posts, is hopefully about the truth.

So are you ready for it? The truth? It's not going to come as some big hoo ha, but here it is:

This s#@t is hard for me.

I feel like the lyrics from a ZZ Top song…I been up, I been down… (and for you ZZ Top fans, maybe I am, in fact, looking for some 'tush'—looking for some, ahem, smaller tush, and specifically the size of my own.)

Let me back up with a quick short story about 2012.

On January 1, I weighed 160 pounds. Then I gained 10 pounds in 11 months. The end.

Okay, there's actually more because what you need to know is that I started 2012 up 19 pounds from the sacred low of October 2010.

I'll do the math here: of the 40 I lost back in 2010, 29 are back.

Just so you know, one of the purposes of moving more and eating well is to have a scale that measures a smaller number, or at the very least, one that stays the same.

That said, if there's one thing I've finally connected to this year it's that it's not just about a number on the scale.

So here are the facts:

• At 170 pounds, I'm physically in the best cardiovascular shape of my life, more or less. I can run 3 miles without passing out; I can swim 30 minutes nonstop and am in no danger of drowning.

• My connection to exercise and better mental health has never been stronger. I can attest to this because as I've slacked off on exercise this fall, I've felt far more life stress than at any time in the past three years.

• My attitude remains one of "I can actually do this thing" as opposed to "Oh HADES! Pass me the Sprite and Cheez-Its!"

 

Here's some more truth: my therapist, who I believe has helped me not only save my marriage but also has helped to save me in pretty much every way possible layed this on me: why would I want to solve my weight problem? I thrive on having a problem. When I keep it a problem, it means I get to keep acting like the child I've been all these years. Acting like a child = indulge myself by eating all manner of foods that really don't fall into the Eating Well category.

Ouch.

But if she wasn't delivering some truth there, it wouldn't hurt to hear it, now would it?

I know there are those of you for whom this is a no-brainer process. And you may sit back and say, "Jeez Zielske, figure it out!" 

I assure you, I'm trying to figure it out. Every day is an opportunity to do better. To move more. To eat well. To care for this veritable temple of a body that I am so fortunate to have.

But back to the chubby hubby connection. Here's another story:

When Dan went to Slovenia last Spring, we realized in those 11 days apart that this whole thing we've got going? It's a good thing. It led to six months of food and wine and fun. I was completely plugged into experiencing life—still am, mind you—but it also included a lack of sound judgment as far as quantities and calories have gone.

The fact is that Dan and I don't share metabolic similarities. I can't go mental with food unless I'm running hours every week. And with a nagging foot injury that I'm presently dealing with, that's just not possible.

I love my hubby. I let myself get chubby. 

Now it's time to focus. 

I'm not pretending that somehow I magically gained weight with zero understanding of how it happened.

 

My Move More, Eat Well students know my story this year very well. I don't try to present them with the idea that HEY! Look at me! I have it all goin' on!

They, like me, are works in progress. God love 'em.

I am continuing on with the journey and I'm also going to run Move More, Eat Well 2.0 in 2013. 

And just because it's almost December doesn't mean I'm going to wait until January 1 to get serious. 

Heck no. Today's as good as day as any, right?

What about you? Where are you at as the year begins to wind down and what are your plans for 2013 as far as taking care of you go?

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

For a short audio message about Move More, Eat Well 2.0, click here.

 

 

 

Two years ago, right now (another lurid tale from the scale)

This is not going to be a woe-is-me, what-the-hell-happened kind of blog post. In case you're wondering. Nope. Not going to go there.

Okay, maybe just a tiny bit.

I was going through my iPhoto library over the weekend, looking for some specific shots for a project and came across a series of photos of me in my hallway mirror in October 2010, and I remembered what it felt like to have a new skirt, new boots and a new waistline to match.

This was me at 141 pounds, after losing 41 extra libbies. This was me after 10 months of religious adherence to the Weight Watchers plan. This was me, thinking, "Oh yeah, baby. NOW life begins!"

I so got this.

Of course, I did not 'so got that'. Not really. Not at all, some might have said.

So began the past two years of slowly moving back up the BMI chart. When I started teaching Move More, Eat Well, I was very inspired at the idea of making changes that would stick. When that class began, I had worked my way up to around 160, and I was hell bent on getting back to where I'd once landed.

It didn't quite work out that way.

One of the positives of the past two years, however, is a commitment to getting my move on. Whether it's been running, walking, swimming, biking, or hanging out with Jillian Michaels in my family room, I've made the effort to Move More whenever possible. And I've realized that even if it isn't the magic key to weight loss, it is a key to a clearer mind and a calmer heart.

The summer, specifically August, saw a huge drop off in my exercise habits. I could make some tepid excuses about bone spurs and foot pain, but as I have learned, there are always other things you can do. I just got sloppy.

And if I get sloppy in moving my body, the food component—or rather, the crappy food component—catches up in a big way. And fast.

In my class this year, it has been all about keeping it real and not giving up. Even when you feel defeated. Even when you start to think, as I have, "Oh, shit. Here we go again."

As I sit here typing, following a 3.5 mile run where things didn't really hurt all that bad, glowing red like a freshly cooked lobster, I still believe that I have the capability of living a healthy, fit life. That I can figure out this insane sugar habit I seem to have picked up in my life. That I can be the changes I truly want to see.

I mean, hells bells, I quit smoking. I think that qualifies me to do just about anything.

So I'm puffy right now. So I'm not doing what I know how to do. 

There's really no need to mope about now is there? Every day is a whole new ball game.

The possibilities are actually pretty endless.

That's where my head is today.

How about you?

I am Superman… right?

I am… I am Super Man… and I can do anything.—R.E.M., a cover song from Life's Rich Pageant, 1986

Sooo… where was I on the old Move More, Eat Well front? Ah, yes… last month, I wrote about some of the realities of where I am right now. One blog reader called me out for whining, and at first I considered it (and of course, felt that drop in the old stomach as one will feel when being called out for something), but then I thought, "Nope, it's not whining. It's reality. And there is a difference."

Reality that I'm 46 and things are going to hurt when I run.

Reality that my metabolic functions aren't what they used to be.

Reality that I am fighting the cravings for sugar and junk because I'm still dabbling in sugar and junk.

Reality that yes, I am still doing the exact same kinds of exercises and not changing things up and therefore not seeing major results.

Reality that I technically know how to fix this, but choose to do things that will sabotage the process like enjoying a glass or two of delicious red wine in the evenings, believing that, what the hell, it's a better than Sprite, right?

I even had a conversation with my therapist about this, and one of the things she told me is that when you indulge every whim and desire [read: decide to eat those fancy cheeses and crackers with your red wine] you are, in essence, behaving like a child. She says that an adult will do what is needed. They don't whine and make excuses. They eat nourishing, nutrient dense foods that sustain the body, not overwhelm it.

I'm really shooting for adulthood here.

I'm also trying to understand how being an adult and being enough can co-exist.

With all the inspirational reading I've been doing lately, I've been trying to look at the relationship between taking full responsibility for the things I want to change and the idea of being enough as I am.

When does enough abdicate you from the responsibility to make changes that you actually need to make.

For example, my current BMI is 25.8 and the normal range is 18.5 – 24.9. The numbers tell me I'm really close and I know that the higher that BMI, the more likely that any manner of health issues could be in my future.

I told my therapist about the year I got really thin, a few years after Aidan was born, and as I was explaning to her that maybe I'm presently at the weight I should be at, "But you said you got down to 120 pounds," to which I replied, "Yes, in 1999, I did… and I did so by smoking a pack of cigarettes a day, drinking coffee and eating basically one meal."

Now that's not very adult at all, is it?

Somtimes, this process makes my head hurt. And sometimes, I get tired of thinking about it all the time. (And believe me, I think about it all the time.) But when I embrace the whole, "I'm tired of this" mentality, that is me not taking responsibility for my health and fitness. Period.

If I choose to be an adult and do what is needed (feed my body well and move it accordingly) then this whole thing doesn't have to be a problem anymore. Or at least that's what they tell me.

That's kind of where my head is at this month, trying to understand what is really needed and how to behave like an adult. Not just when it's convenient. Not just when I can happily report: "I'm down five pounds. Look at how great I am!"

Does any of this resonate with you? Or does it just feel like a bunch of therapy-fueled mumbo jumbo?

It's not always going to be sunshine and roses, this process. I'm not trying to pretend like if you do A, B and C, then the answers will all be crystal clear. Sometimes the path from A to C takes a lot of twists, turns and missteps. 

That feels a lot more like reality to me than anything else.

But as one of my favorite animated characters says, "Just keep swimming."

Thank God I still know how to swim.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

If you're interested in making changes to your overall health and fitness, Move More, Eat Well is a 12-month online workshop at Big Picture Classes. The focus of this class is to embark on a personal journey that works with your unique lifestyle in helping you to find ways to make the changes you'd like to see on a fitness and health level. Registration is open all year and you can jump in anytime to join the more than 1,550 women and men who've made the decision to try to make changes in their own lives. Move More, Eat Well revolves around a robust community of users who are all creating a scrapbook/journal of their progress. To learn more, click here.

 

 

 

 

 

When you need a little pick me up

The last 30 days have seen my efforts to Move More and Eat Well fall somewhat flat. And by "flat" I mean the Eating Well part has included copious amounts of sugar and other white foods, and the Move More part has been plagued with ticky tack little injuries. Back pain here, calf pain there…you know how it goes. Yo! I'm 46 y'all. No one said it would all be smooth sailing.

I guess you can't do NOTHING physical and just smoke for 25  years and expect your body to happily reward you.

That said, I realized the other day whilst pounding it out on the dreadmill that I'm sure grateful for music while I try to get my Moving More back on track. I thought I'd share some of the songs that for whatever reason, when they magically appear in my shuffle mix, I magically believe I can run another mile. Or two.

 

I know it's old, and maybe a bit dated, but there is a driving baseline that just propels me forward. Chris Robinson rocks it out. And I will admit to you something I'm really embarrassed that I never knew: this is a cover of an Otis Redding song. What?

 

Another song that I love to run to is "Too Funky". I love George Michael. I did then. I do now. I used to imagine, back in 1984, that he could be my boyfriend. Ah, the folly of my youth. George, you will always be Whamtastic to me.

 

I realize at first glance, you might think, "What? How is this a song that gets you going?" But you're going to have to stick it on a mix and see for yourself. Granted, this version is a bit stripped down, but the song itself makes me instantly feel about 32 pounds lighter. And I love the idea that I'm doing something "fantastic" like, well, running. Plus, I have always had an insane crush on Ed. His guitar playing is sublime. I'm sad that Ed and Steven are no longer together in the group.

 

You cannot stop running if this comes on. You just can't. Not possible. Nope. Not happening. Plus, when I hear Dave Grohl's little breathy voice, I melt. It's true. I would hump his leg. (NOTE: That line is not for the children.)

 

I realize my cool factor just dropped a few notches in the eyes of some, but for some reason, if this song comes on at the end of the run, it gives me a boost. Plus, I like to sing as I go... come out, come out, come out, Virginia don't make me wait…

So now it's your turn: what song will get you up off the couch and moving, or if you're already out there, what song powers you through?

Don't worry, it can't be as embarrassing as Billy Joel.

 

 

Resolve

Egg salad, heavily filtered in still life. 2012.

Ah, twenty-twelve… here you are and here I am, moving forward here on Planet Earth full of all kinds of optimism and gusto!

It is a time of year where many people decide to make big changes. And it is also the time of year, roughly the second week, when all hell breaks loose and the hope for change seems to evaporate into the surrounding ether.

This year felt different for me, because I wasn't making any resolutions. I was simply continuing. Continuing feels so much more do-able in some respects. I will continue to take care of myself. I will continue to eat well. I will continue to find ways of moving this body of mine. I will continue to become a more evolved person and less of a selfish twit.

So much easier than starting from scratch.

Of course, starting from scratch is what many people want to do in January. God knows I know this. I can't even tell you how many Januarys came and went where my goal of quitting smoking lasted until I woke up after the previous night's New Year celebration.

I read through some of the comments from the weekend's giveaway post, where I asked about resolutions. I don't really like resolutions myself. They seem too big. Too shocking. Too sudden.

I remember when I quit smoking in March of 2006. That felt too big. Too shocking. Too sudden.

And then hour by hour, day by day, it got a little easier.

Have you picked a word for the year? I ask, because I'm not sure what mine is just yet. I'm gravitating towards "reality" but I'm not sure how that will settle in just yet.

One of my goals in 2012 is to focus on living in reality in all aspects of my life. To see what is truly needed and to respond accordingly. Now this is coming directly out of the work I've been doing with my therapist, but it's what I need to do to focus on becoming a much better version of myself.

That, of course, involves a heck of a lot more than exercising and eating well. But every little bit helps.

I know there might be some of you who feel like January's here and you haven't stepped up to the plate. You haven't committed to a change you desire and you know what? I would say, don't sweat it. Don't look at January as the sole harbinger of possible change.

Change is a really forgiving and flexible concept at the outset. It's there. And it's waiting patiently.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

If you're interested in making changes to your overall health and fitness, Move More, Eat Well is a 12-month online workshop at Big Picture Classes. The focus of this class is to embark on a personal journey that works with your unique lifestyle in helping you to find ways to make the changes you'd like to see on a fitness and health level. Registration is open all year and you can jump in anytime to join the more than 1,400 women and men who've made the decision to try to make changes in their own lives. Move More, Eat Well revolves around a robust community of users who are all creating a scrapbook/journal of their progress. To learn more, click here.

 

Food for thought

How many of you out there are presently smokers or are ex-smokers? A show of hands, please.

As a card carrying ex-smoker, I think I know a thing or two about cravings. Smoking on and off—but mostly on—from around the age of 12 until the age of 40, many years of my life were ruled by cravings.

For those of you who've never had the unfortunate experience of being addicted to nicotine, I'll tell you how it goes: you smoke a cigarette, then you put it out and the nicotine levels in your blood begin to plummet. The happy, contented feeling you had while ingesting the nicotine leaves all too quickly, putting you into a state of withdrawal from the minute your smoke break ends. So begins the cycle of addiction.

Back when I was a smoker, every November the Great American Smokeout would roll around. Ask any smoker out there and I'm sure they can relate to what I'm about to say: when you are knee deep in the hoopla of your addiction, the very last thing on Earth you'll tolerate is some one or some group telling you what you already know: Hey stupid, you should quit!

If anything, on the Great American Smokeout day, I'd just smoke more. I'll be damned if you're going to tell me when and how to kick my own habit. Imagine plugging your ears and going, "La, la, la, la, la, la, la" and that's the attitude I always brought to the table.

I've thought a lot about when I quit smoking during the past two weeks. I brought it up in a discussion with my therapist recently, who seemed impressed with both the depth of my love for my former habit, as well as my white knuckle, cold turkey, non-negotiable approach to quitting back in March of 2006. She was also amazed at the level of self-destruction it brought to my life on a daily basis, but we'll explore that tangent on some other day.

(Did you know I cried every single day for a week that March? I remember calling my dear friend Tara and sobbing, just sobbing into the phone because I seriously had no idea how I was going to get through it.)

But here's the thing: any time you do something you didn't think was even remotely possible, you gain a slightly new perspective on everything in your life.

Take for instance me and running. Here's a girl whose idea of excercise was simply to inhale and exhale on a Benson & Hedges Deluxe Ultra Light Menthol, and then take a nap. And now I run 3 to 4 miles, three days a week? Get out. No, I'm serious. That wasn't never part of my skill set.

After I quit smoking and started to gain weight, it still never dawned on me that I could figure out a way to work exercise into my life. Much like those annoying people who would dare to suggest I should quit smoking, I felt the same reaction towards their ideas of me moving my body.

Last night, I watched one of Oprah's "Life Class" epsiodes on demand, specifically, Episode 17, in which she talks about what would you do if you stepped out of your personal box of limitations. Now you know me and Oprah, if she says, "Jump," not only do I say, "How high?" but I also say, "Wow, I never looked at jumping like that," and "Who knew that jumping could have so many ramifcations?" and "My God, I LOVE YOU, OPRAH!"

She was talking about the idea of trying something different. That if you you want change, you can't keep doing the same thing and expect it to happen. You have to take a risk. You have to step out of your comfort zone.

I think back in January 2010, when I decided I'd had enough of inertia and chub and embarked on the whole Move More, Eat Well thing, I did it because I really had reached an understanding: ain't nothing gonna change unless I step up and do something. But in making that choice, especially doing it publicly, I was taking a risk of it not working.

With smoking, it was the same thing. No one is going to do this for me. I felt like I was playing a sort of Russian Roulette with my health; that it was just a matter of time before some smoking-related illness crept in and took a hold of my life.

The idea of cravings is on my mind right now in a big way. As I am preparing to embark on my 2012 workshop, my own familar ghosts of personal limitation are swirling around my brain, messing with me and trying to get me to just say when.

I know that there are many of you reading today who seek to feel better and stronger.  I also know that even though you might really want those things, the path to getting there can seem overwhelming. I know there are some of you out there who've resigned yourselves to a place in the box that you can't get out of, and I want to tell you that change is possible.

People are actually quite extraordinary in their ability to change and adapt. It's really just a shift in attitude and self-belief and the willingness to start.

What would you do if you had no fear of failure? And more importantly, do you believe that trying and failing and trying again has a value? Take it from this ex-smoker (who actually quit 5 times prior to 2006) and this chub fighter (who has lost and regained 20 pounds time and again): every time I fail at something, I have slowly but surely started to gain a sense of understanding and purpose from it.

What used to happen is I'd throw my hands up in the hair and say, "Screw it! I'm done."

Now, I keep my hands at my side and say, "Alright, how can I change my approach or focus to do what it is that I want and need to do?"

I know the end of the year is a time when we start to imagine the changes we want to make as of January 1st. It's that clean slate time; a chance to start fresh.

I just want anyone out there who wants change but isn't sure if they can make it to know, trying is the first step. Failing is the second. And trying again is both the third step, and a new way to re-frame your thinking towards making changes in your life that you can live with.

And you know what? Failure is an option. Just take it from me. It teaches me every single day.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Join me in 2012 for my workshop, Move More, Eat Well 2012. In this class, we'll navigate the space in which women try to make positive changes in their lives for better health and nutrition. There's no whip being cracked during the class; just common sense ideas and the desire to make healthy changes in your life. We'll meet monthly to ask and answer questions related to the process of taking care of you and hopefully, find some things along the way that really do stick.

The lap of luxury

Have I talked much about the art of camouflage in all things chub related?

Have I?

A number of years back I bought a one-piece swimsuit that I dubbed the Distract-A-Suit. The pattern was so obnoxious that people at the pool would be so confused by it they would have to look away, reducing my need to feel self conscious about my doughy, pale white chub sticking out at awkward angles.

Yesterday I agreed to participate in a documentary about scrapbooking being made by a Yale student. I had no idea what to expect, but I made the assumption that a shower and a bra would be required.

Getting ready yesterday morning and carefully (and more or less blindly because I can't see for beans) applying my makeup, I considered my clothing options.The length of this consideration was akin to an eye blink. My choices are that slim.

Black tee, black vest, and jeans.

However, the jeans in the photo above are just too tight to be called comfortable. I'm sorry. I don't do well in clothing that will not allow me to bend or breath, so it was back to the yoga pants.

I mean, heck, they're clean and they're comfy. Surely this film maker is not interested in me from the waist down, and if she is, this is not the type of film I signed up for.

But oh, that waist…

When you wear black from head to toe and stand back before a full length mirror, the camouflage effect is in full swing. You can dismiss the lumpy parts of your back thighs. You can shrug off the tummy overhang. Why, once you toss the vest on, you've got layers of distraction all working their absolute hardest for you.

Right now, I'm regretting my present options for clothing. Can I just say that?

As I get ready to embark on a year long class for Move More, Eat Well, I need to seriously sit down and have a talk to Baby Jesus or Buddha or Jillian Michaels or someone. I need to figure out what the heck is going on over here in St. Paul, Minnesota. I need to understand why the camouflage is needed now more than ever.

The thing I love about life is that it always reminds you not to be so cocky about things you think you know a thing or two about.

Don't get me wrong here, my body gives me a framework in which to live and for that I'm thankful.

But this lap of luxury is getting just a bit out of hand.

 

Move More Eat Well 2011 Wrap Up

I decided to let my face do the talking. I apologize in advance for the length (12-ish minutes) but when I am unscripted, well, anything is possible, including the propensity to ramble.

And for those of you who don't have the time to watch, I'll sum it up: Thank you so much for being part of the past two years of Move More, Eat Well posts. If I've learned anything it's that this is a process that just keeps rolling right along with ups, downs and many inbetweens. Thanks for everything you've contributed in comments over the past 24 months.

If you'd like more information on my 2012 workshop, click here.

Announcing Move More, Eat Well 2012 at Big Picture Classes

I'm really excited to announce one of my new workshops for next year: Move More, Eat Well 2012 at Big Picture Classes.

I've been working on a way to create a more interactive experience to share this process with blog readers and other like-minded people who want to put a focus on better health and activity for their lives, and I'm happy to say it's all systems go for 2012.

Move More, Eat Well is a year-long workshop, where each month I'll bring you a new classroom complete with a video presentation, prompts and assignments to encourage you in your own efforts to Move More and Eat Well.

I've recorded a short video answering a few questions about the class.

A word about Move More, Eat Well 2012 from Cathy Zielske on Vimeo.

Click here for more information on the workshop.

If  you have any questions, please leave me a comment and I'll be sure to answer. The cost of the class is $36. I'm so looking forward to another year of Moving More and Eating Well and creating this new community together.

And don't worry. Perfect adherence is not one of the class requirements! Just as I've done on my blog, this workshop will celebrate the highs, the fun-sized lows, and everything in between.

The plan is to keep it real and sustainable as we strive to Move More and Eat Well.

It ain't just another New Year's Resolution, people. This is something you and I can do.

I hope you'll join me in 2012.