Run with a smile on your face

Running with a smile on your face

1. Exhale.
2. All better.

 

My body and mind have been through quite the trauma lately. But today I ran outside (in sunshine!) after my morning sunday class in the studio, with Zoe sleeping in the stroller. Amazing!!! Now, before all this I had my first run in..forever (on the treadmill in the studio) and reminded myself why I’ve always loved running! Even if it’s on a treadmill…..

 

Loud music blaring out.
A beating heart reminding me how alive I feel.
Dancing in between intervals.
Clearing my head and body of all not-needed tension and emotions.
I feel invincible. Strong.
Cleansed.
And the sweat!! I love sweat. I really do. So many things that include sweat are positive things???? Training, working in the garden, creating things, dancing, sex… I mean, yes?

 

My ways to last longer in a run -and to try and enjoy it….

 

> BREATHE; helps the push, endurance, clear thinking, or when you get pain anywhere

> Literally shouting out “hepp!!” or exhaling with power, something that gives a push (if you’ve ever been in class and the instructor goes “GO!” or “1,2,3 aaand..” – you wake up and want to give more right? There’s a reason for that. Same way most grunt lifting weights or hit their friend on the back.

> Lifting arms up a bit to create an ease in your upper body (reminding you to also WORK WITH your upper body too -and not just your legs and feet)

> Thinking about THE STEP -and if there’s a way to make yourself feel lighter

> Lifting your gaze!! Keep your head up

> Use that mind! Dance, even if only in your head. Think about what a push means for you, f.ex why are you doing this and if you’d had to outrun something or someone dangerous could you last longer?

> A good song can be everything.

> If you must, rest and breathe ofc. Slow down. Be smart and listen to your body. But rest -so that you can recover- and then keep going instead of giving up.

MOVE • PLAY • FLY

Losing, and starting over

*Tw ⚠️ miscarriage story*


I’ve been debating whether or not to write something down about all this. And then whether or not to share. People say “people don’t talk about this”. But I feel today people do, don’t we? Or maybe we just read a lot about it? Maybe it’s just one of those things that happen and we try to move on from it and keep to ourselves. I could just write “we had a miscarriage.” and that’s it. In a way it is, and some prefer it that way. But I’m interested in the bigger picture. Contemplating life and death matters I think becomes a natural process when life gets taken away from us. We’re reminded how little control we do have, after all.

What I like about sharing is what can be the scary part about it; that it comes out for all to see and stays there, but then again – that’s what made writers and poets all those years ago. It might be a lot more modern these days and anyone can consider themselves a writer or poet (don’t worry, I don’t), but it is how history and art and in the end- we, live on. I believe we live on through others (our children, friends and family), in who we have been, who we were to others, the kindness and hurt we brought, in memories and moments shared with others, even in the food we cooked or liked… And then there are the things that are physically still there after we’re gone; words, our handwriting, if we ever wrote a book or a blog post, videos and music and pictures, art, birthday cards, notes, recipes, contributions, donations, money, clothes and so on. We’re never really gone, as we’re still there; in all those things.
I’ve always been a person who would rather say something (or a lot) if I think it might help someone. I’ve always been an open book with my heart on my sleeve. And I’d rather stay that way. I truly believe we’re not meant to do any of it alone. We need and crave connection, support and love as human beings. We’re all born into a tribe, or we create our own. It’s how we survive.

Going through this whole process made me think a lot about loss in general and how we’re all a bit lost and lonely after the doors shut. After the dramatic events, the tearful hugs and the “I’m sorry”s – we’re left standing, with this confusion. What now? There’s a physical and psychological aftermath, all of the leftovers and dishes to deal with. And we have to be adults and keep living life, get from A to B, take care of others, do chores and jobs. The healing begins, in the middle of it all. I believe healing can be lonely, painful, sad, aggressive, happy, rejuvenating, confusing, numbing and distracting at the same time. That’s what I think we talk less about. The recovery process. And we all heal differently.

The physical stuff takes turns with the psychological, and it’s difficult to differentiate what is what. I asked myself many times; am I exhausted or just sad? Is there something wrong with me physically (naturally my hormones are all over the place) or is it just all in my head? Can I control any of it? What’s normal? What Should I be doing? Grief isn’t something that is encouraged to simply move on from, at least not without dealing with it first. But how does one deal with it?

The events

One ultrasound, chock, tears, hugs, a lot of pills, a lot of pain, contractions, boobs ready to feed a child that never came, fainting 3 times (once straight into the bathroom tiles head first), huge amounts of blood, more pills, vomit, thinking I would die and leave my family alone (terrifying), trying to manage recovery with a 2-year old running around (who also saw her mother bloody on the bathroom floor), uncontrollable hormones, blood transfusions, so much confusion, and trying to be an adult with responsibilities at the same time. That’s the short and raw version really of everything that went down. Maybe it’s good to get it out. Even the sad and painful bits. Reading it on paper and talking about it is different than the experience. Easier. Just words.

A relief, as well as one of the most painful things, was when we had our first ultrasound at week 12. It looked like nothing was there and I was so confused. I know what week 12 ultrasounds are supposed to look like, so I knew immediately something was wrong. I started thinking maybe I got the period wrong. But it turned out the fetus had stopped growing at week 6. It got to me, that we had to wait until week 12 (and from the start of this pregnancy I felt absolutely horrible the entire time) to find out I’d been walking around with a baby that wasn’t actually growing, alive and well. I had a feeling at times. I would f.ex ask K if the belly was getting smaller, but without any blood coming out, I was still pregnant. My whole body thought so. Inside of my physically capable body. Yes, even though I know it’s got nothing(!) to do with a capable body, I always felt “that would never happen to me, not with my healthy young capable body”. What an insult, I realise, even thinking that. Which is why I’m writing that down. People tell you “it happens often” because it does. It is very common. But it does hit you, when it happens to you personally. I’ve always said, with life-altering events that you don’t know what it’s like until you do. Losing someone close to you or someone getting really ill. We can all imagine, but we don’t really know. I haven’t lost a person that I spent every day with for x amount of years or so, but I imagine we all try to seek solutions and understanding of the world. Especially when it doesn’t make sense to us. We want an answer to the question why. So I thought maybe we lost the baby because I had covid for 2 weeks or maybe I did this too much or too little of that Maybe it’s because I might have issues with my thyroid. It’s hard not to go there.

And it’s hard to find a way back. I’ve lost my appetite, a lot of muscles and weight. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this weak and I’m still bleeding leftovers. But it’s all over. Life goes on. Maybe writing this helps. Maybe it helps someone else. Recovery is different for everyone, but one thing is for sure – healing takes time. We have to let it take time.

Postpartum

Processing & recovery

This is a vessel 5 weeks after giving birth to a beautiful baby girl. A 37+ h birth ending with an emergency C-section. Not at all what I had pictured, but out she came and all that pain went away. Enter- the aftermath.

Naturally, I’ve been absent and less active both here and with my training lately. I can’t even begin to think about work as I can barely think about the next step in my day (which actually doesn’t feel so much mine at all). Looking back, I feel naive. I really thought I’d be able to walk out of that hospital with striding steps, my head held high and ready for my usual handstands and runs etc. after my 6 weeks of recovery. Reality was I could barely walk myself out of the hospital without support and have only just started my postpartum jogs (PS. I’m an experienced runner and wouldn’t risk anything if it didn’t feel OK. I was also still running week 30+ during pregnancy without issues) almost 3 months postpartum now.

It all made me open my eyes to a reality I didn’t know existed. Not me, not my body. I can do better, surely. But it was- and still is- me. Just a different me. A very new me that I don’t really know how to grow into yet.

Until now, I haven’t been allowed more than walks and specific rehabilitation drills (and even that has been a challenge tbh)…

With 0 active training since just before I gave birth, anxiety shot through the roof. It felt so far away from the person I have always been and what I have needed in order to vent and stay sane.

With this newfound respect in mind, up until now my workouts have mostly been in my head. Battling emotions, worry, anxiety, stress and change. I’m still in the fog sorting out my mental health and the rollercoaster ride is no joke. There has been a lot of walking and gradually being able to carry and pick up things (mostly that has to do with my baby), which feels like ridiculous accomplishments compared to what I had in mind. I’ve also been focusing on moving in ways to rehabilitate my new forced way of moving (motherhood brings on all the awkward positions with breastfeeding, picking up and comforting a baby)… Motivation in general has been extremely fleeting. Nothing feels normal, not yet.

I could get on my yoga mat and find alternatives, but it feels like a lie. I need to be able to relax and move freely in order for me to then be able to naturally relax and feel good. That’s why my meditation usually comes at the end of something (such as a yoga flow) or while moving in something active (running). Simply sitting down and breathing through all these emotions and thoughts right now, letting them wash over me, is not an option I would prefer or recommend to anyone in this situation. Even though I’m working with acceptance in my therapy, I am still a high-sensitive person who would overthink, feel everything even deeper, cause even more stress to my “new body” and eventually burn out. The same way I can’t work with acceptance and wc-scenarios when it comes to my baby, as the wc-scenario is the first thought I have. So I take one step at a time. Sometimes 3 h at a time. I put up one goal at a time. I’m now running again, so that’s crossed off the list. Next up is trying to figure out how to get back my strength.

I believe nothing humbles you more than becoming a parent. I have also found nothing makes you question your life, your decisions (past and present) and what really matters in the end, more than when you’re all of a sudden “robbed of your freedom” and take care of a little innocent life 24/7. It all sounds like empty promises until you’re there living and doing it yourself. As a woman, I don’t think anything makes you appreciate and admire your body for what it’s capable of more. It takes time, a lot (more than you think) of it. And time is precious. It’s all we have in the end. How we’re spending it and how we enjoy is up to us.

Postpartum

Postpartum

It’s a big deal, and I wasn’t prepared for it (can one ever really be though????? I’d be surprised if it wasn’t like a bomb dropped and exploded for everyone). One becomes a new person of two, a parent and a mother. Just like that you enter this new world and life. I mean, I know everyone understands that a little human grows inside of a body and then comes out of it. But just read that again and realise how strange and life-changing that is for the one going through it. I’ll be the first one to say, it humbles a person.

See, people take it for granted. The whole thing, that is. People tend to focus on the end game and that little cute healthy happy baby. Just like when someone gets really fit and people don’t really focus on all the work and time and energy that goes into a change like that. People don’t see or realise the long journey that takes you there and everything that happens in between. We’re simple like that. Usually I find that’s why people stick to the simple questions about pregnancy and babies, getting simple answers in return. Diaper, breastfeeding, poo, weight and the little cute things your baby “has just started doing”- talk becomes boring for someone on the go to their next meeting. Whereas for someone going through it, it’s your everyday and everything all of a sudden. We seek validation and companionship. It’s a relief to hear someone else is going through just what you’re going through- you’re not alone after all!! *whew*. So it’s no wonder there’s a gap between parents and the ones that are far away from it.

This little tiny baby comes out and of a sudden you’re 100% responsible for a helpless little innocent beautiful life. That little tiny baby will get a name and become a little life on its own, depending on your constant care 24/7. Yeah, that’s a big huge massive deal. And so is the amount of anxiety that comes with it, checking their breathing and wondering if this or that is normal.

As a woman… All of a sudden your body goes 100% mother, physically it will whether you like it or not, to start with. The change happens FAST. Out comes the baby and left is “the leftovers”… an empty but blown up belly, lumps of all kinds of fluid, blood, more blood, leaks of all kinds, gas etc. A whole new body for you to grow into. It doesn’t feel that attractive in the beginning. Mentally and physically it takes time… Sore (and by sore I mean wounded-flesh-type-of-sore) nipples and heavy boobs (before they adjust and become your new boobs, that is, which is also weird. especially if you never had big boobs before)… Milk supply or lack of it will also become a daily thing on the agenda. Sure, people talk about latching and how good it is for the baby etc when it comes to breastfeeding, but don’t forget yourself as a woman in the process. It can hurt like hell or be wonderful. There are different phases and your boobs will need time to adjuat. It can be constantly leeking or nowhere to be seen.

*sidenote* I cannot recommend MEDELA BOOB CUPS enough!! What a lifesaver they were the first weeks for me. So was letting my boobs air and hot showers.

Another welcome: new instincts, like not fully sleeping (ever?)… While at the same time questioning your instincts like never before and seeking answers for things *enter google* such as “is it normal for my baby to shake its head side to side” and similar. While at the same time dealing with opinions and thoughts and worries of others, of course.

If you had an emergency C section and never had surgery before (like me), the aftermath can hit you brutally. I was far from prepared and underestimated what happens when you’re cut up. No one told me “you’ll feel like your intestines will fall out of your stomach as you try to stand up. It will hurt to sneeze and cough and laugh.. Also, get ready to sleep sitting up for a LONG time. Pretty much learn how to move without engaging your core at all the first days (no matter how much you want to) and say goodbye to your butt for a while and hello to chafing”. All bodies heal differently but I did not count on not being allowed to train for so long *enter borderline depression*, so tools, tools and more tools are needed to cope. So is coping with not giving “natural birth”, which my man reminded me is a poor choice of words. You either gave birth through your vagina or through surgery, but either way that baby came through and out of your body. You did that.

Which brings us to the other side of the coin. The obvious little tiny wonderful thing that gets you through it all. Your baby. The one who’s worth all the rushed/unfinished poos, the one that makes you forget all about hair and make up, worth all the weird positions your body gets into (which in turn will mess your body up in new ways), that little someone who will make time fly and all hours blend together, the one who will need you more than anyone before and fills your whole being with a love so deep it blows your mind *enter hormones and tears every time you watch them sleep*.

In the end, the comfort can be that all this new stuff will become the new normal one day. I know people say that and it doesn’t really provide any immediate comfort, seeing you’re not there yet. Kind of like when you were a kid and people told you it would get easier… But with that in mind, if you’ve ever done something for the first time and now do it without thinking and worrying so much about it – know that YOU CAN. Trust, support and self-love. Also, get some alone time(!!!!) and help, no matter how lovely your baby is (f.ex to have a calm shower or walk), every now and then (and don’t feel bad about it!) or you’ll lose it for real and no one benefits from that in the end.

BIRTH STORY

BIRTH STORY

on Wednesday, 19th of January (week 39), we had just been at the midwife for a checkup. I hadn’t gotten any hints our baby girl was ready yet and was super fed up with being pregnant. The midwife was telling us “but it could all happen at once before you know it though..!” and I was like “suuure it can”, getting ready for another 2-3 weeks of pregnancy…. Little did I know she would let us know that it was time later that evening and arrive 2 days later.

We went home and had a very chill evening with a nice big dinner. As I was about to brush my teeth I had a pretty solid contraction so I sat down, moved my hips around and took my regular deep breaths. It didn’t last too long so I moved on, but then felt a light stream down my leg when I stood up. I called on Karolos “uhh, I think my water is breaking?!” and as the words came out of my mouth, my water broke, A LOT…. Like in-the-movies-a lot. I kept shaking (being excited, nervous and in shock), saying “but I was gonna go to bed…! I didn’t think it would happen NOW”. We then called the hospital and they told us to come in. From the moment my water broke I felt an increase in my contractions. It had started, for real. And off we went.

It was midnight and we had to drive in slowmotion because of the snowstorm that night. The contractions were increasing in strength and duration by the minute, but were by this time still managable for me. After the first check they had detected a bit of poo from the baby in the water, so we got admitted and ready to see her.

The contractions got worse and freakishly strong by the minute. By this time I was struggling. The midwives said it could be because of the water breaking (which meant stronger, faster and more intense contractions). I couldn’t sleep or eat that night. When I moved it got worse. The contractions came quick and often. I could barely catch a break. And I’ve always managed a lot of pain without too much complaining, even as a kid, but this was new and scary and I wondered how bad it could get as it kept getting worse embracing my whole body. To our disappointment, I had only opened about 1,5 cm and we still had a long way to go…

The hours felt like days to me and the next morning we switched rooms. Karolos was doing his best trying to feed me, talk to me, hold me and give me comfort. I could see how upset he was that he couldn’t help me with my pain, but just having him by my side was everything. We arrived in a room where we thought it would happen, where we thought we would meet our girl… We met new midwives, new techniques and more painkillers. I had already received one or two injections to help me sleep by this time, which did help, for about 30 min before the pain came back.

I lost track of time and every hour felt like a day. I was still opening, but slow. Too slow, in relation to the pain. When I got up to pee, it got worse. At one point I almost passed out. We tried movement, acupuncture, gas, other injections, pills etc. But nothing helped. I threw up and my energy was constantly declining.

Originally, I didn’t want to have the epidural, but in this situation I would have taken anything they could give me for the pain and enough was enough. On the first try with the epidural, something went wrong. The doctor had to call another doctor to help. I was closing my eyes, squeezing Karolos’s hand and crying while trying not to move as the contractions kept coming… Another doctor came and they tried again. Eventually they got it right and eventually I got a moment to breathe without the pain… I immediately fell asleep. I was still opening and was now around 8 cm. Things were looking up, so we thought.

New midwives arrived when Karolos and I were sleeping. They asked me questions and tried making sense of what I said. Karolos woke up and looked at me with a scared face, asking me if I knew who he was and asked me to spell his last name. I was confused why everyone was looking at me the way they did… I had been talking about how the hospital blankets were shipped to our mailboxes and mentioned a garlic press. But eventually I got back to reality and Karolos and the midwives could breathe out as I didn’t have brain damage after all.

The epidural started wearing off at some point later in the evening and I had the worst 15-20 min of my delivery. I had been put on oxytocin to try and speed up the process along with the contractions, which in turn made the contractions stronger (and they were already pretty damn strong). We tried changing positions, gas, more injections…. but nothing helped. I held on to Karolos and only remember pain, crying and constantly zoning out. I remember a woman, before my delivery, saying “they say it will feel like you’re going to die, but it doesn’t! It doesn’t have to be that bad”… But during those 15-20 min I really did feel like I was going to die. As if I had an inner demon torturing me and no one could do anything to help… Eventually the massive pain stopped and I got more pain medication before I zoned out completely. Karolos, my pillar, was my biggest support in all this and I couldn’t have done any of it without him.

Finally I was open 10 cm. I got another epidural, as the first one had worn off, and they adjusted the first one. I had lost feeling of my left leg and the first epidural was potentially put too much to one side. We had different anesthesiologists come in and eventually got the second one. It helped, before it started to wear off again. I started to feel the pain creep up on me again.

At some point in the night we had another doctor come in and had an ultrasound. We could see our little girl had twisted her head a bit, which was a possible reason for her not dropping down despite me being open 10 cm. More doctors came and went and gave their opinion, talking to us about options. She was coming, they said, and it was all going in the right direction. I was opening up, but it could take more time. And we had been working hard for about 36 hours. Our girl wasn’t dropping. I had not been able to eat anything (other than small bits of light food and candies that Karolos gently forced me to have). I had been put on every possible medicine and my body was screaming for some kind of release. I just wanted her out, now. And I couldn’t bear the pain creeping up on me again. Like that inner demon was whispering it was coming back for more. In all of this pain and work, I had even lost the thought of actually holding a baby in my arms. I was so focused on constantly surviving and getting through the next step…. So we had a chat and finally decided; if there was a possibility that it would take longer than 4 hours more- we would go for the C section. Enough was enough. 37 hours had passed and we got rolled up for surgery. Now minutes away from meeting our baby.

I was put on every possible monitor, got checked and carried everywhere, and then got the spinal injection. They said the epidural was good, but they wanted it to be perfect. I was sitting crunched up, always holding Karolos’s hand. The injection took a long time and I remember seeing Karolos grow frustrated. The first injection failed and the needle bent (Karolos told me afterwards), another doctor came in and finally we were good to go. (I’m glad I didn’t see any of this).

I was then talking to Karolos and the two wonderful male nurses behind the curtain. We were chatting about where we were all from and making small talk. One of the guys was from Germany, he said… And all of a sudden, there was a loud scream. A baby! Our baby girl. I got pulled away from my work-process-mentality and exhaled as I was reminded that there was an end game to all this after all. We fell into tears. Karolos said “see, I cry for more than chicken” (which made me laugh – story for another time (inside joke))… And they carried her over, weighed her and put her close to my face. She cuddled up under my neck and I kept saying “it’s real, she’s real!” while tears were streaming down my face. Karolos said she had my lips and I said she had his eyelashes. We both said “she’s got hair!!” (this was always a guess during my pregnancy)… No matter all the little things and the crazy journey we had just been through… SHE was here, a person, and she was wonderful. On the 21st of January, at 14.14, she arrived. 50 cm and 3,466 kg of love. Everything else could wait.

Mindset & attitude is everything

Who run the world

Looking at this girl I only wish her well, want her to play, to be bold, free, without judgement and to carry her head high for her accomplishments, like that little medal around her neck for loving to run. I would, most likely, never choose to talk to her the harsh way I usually do to myself. But it goes without saying that’s not the reality we live in. So I would tell her to toughen up. We all need a bit of fire. Put that little girl in a group of girls and you’ll see what I mean. We do run the world, indeed.

I was in yoga class a couple of weeks ago and it challenged me a lot. It opened my eyes to many of my flaws that I had been avoiding, which is always difficult to deal with in class if you’re a crazy perfectionist when it comes to yourself- like me. It’s an inner fight of acceptance and wanting more/to do better/feeling like you’re enough. And it should stay that way, as an inner struggle. Vent, ofc. Ask for help, yes. But I would never blame my teacher or be angry at someone for being better than me.

Ever since my first dance class (around 8 years old) I noticed I was a fast learner when it came to moving, mimicking, receiving cues and grasping feelings. Our (a bit crazy) dance teacher at that time called me her ”star student”, always placed me in front row, and then told everyone in the group (only girls) ”now everyone look at Bea!, which you would think is awesome as a kid. It did make me light up ofc, getting that acknowledgement and attention from our teacher. But at the same time I got bitchy (yes, at 8 years old) looks from my friends, who pushed me away and/or told me in their own ways I wasn’t as good as I thought. That’s what I focused on more at times, because that’s just me being a #HSP . I remember noticing how some friends would ”use it against me” when they were better than me in math f.ex. It was like a constant draining competition that I never agreed to enter. And that would continue as we got older, in even more manipultive ways. All I wanted was to be friends, really. And I remember questioning something I still question today: is it really that impossible to compete with genuine smiles on our faces? To care for someone other than yourself and your wins? To hug someone, shake hands or say well done? To be happy for someone else or even inspired?

I’ve had friends who told me we couldn’t be friends anymore because I was singled out in a situation where they weren’t. I’ve had older women shut me down with ”you don’t understand because you’re young, just you wait til you’re older” or ”that’s easy for you to say” when I’ve tried to encourage or help them. It’s sad that we push people away when they’re trying to help. It’s sad, looking back at the old tiny me just wanting friends and trying to learn. I do think she deserved better.

To be clear, I’m not saying I needed someone to hold my hand all the time or to pat me on the head. I’m not asking for pity either. I just would have loved if girls were more inviting and open. I get that we’re meant to compete, but we’re also meant to support eachother. Can we not live and learn and do better, girls? Obviously we’re not all going to get along, but enough bitchiness and manipultive games. Especially for our future little tiny girls. They deserve better.

15 things to help you physically

15 things to help you in this pandemic

It’s the beginning of a new year, yet we’re still living with what feels like a never-ending pandemic. Here are 15 reminders that physically can help you in challenging times like these…

To:
  1. orgasm
  2. breathe with your stomach
  3. move & sweat
  4. feel relaxed (lowered shoulders, calm breath and no tension in your face f.ex.)
  5. physically and emotionally be close to people you love
  6. touch and be touched
  7. embrace scents and flavors you love
  8. increase your HR
  9. lower your HR
  10. get enough deep sleep
  11. be comfortable in your own skin (to comfortably walk around naked, f.ex)
  12. not have injuries (and if you do, take care of them)
  13. have a sense of direction in your body
  14. tune in
  15. check out

I could say “so just do yoga, have sex, do your training, eat, sleep, breathe, be close to/with people you love and you’re good” – but we all need different things in this life. So I would say try to make sure your glass is filled up with your needs, and the rest will not be up to us.

Unsure what your basic needs are? Maybe this can be a good time to dig a bit deeper into who you are and what you need.

And as simple as all this sounds, we all struggle. That’s ok. Mental health issues are very real and so is depression. But hopefully these pointers can help you to give yourself a fighting chance.

Recipes

Persimmon for breakfast and lunch

I’ve gone on about this fruit before! With good reason for it. Now, here’s 2 yummy ways to eat it (other than eating it as it is)… A steady yummy breakfast and a light perfectly balanced lunch!

Buckwheat porrige with raisins, crushed almonds, cinnamon & persimmon

First off, why buckwheat? Well, first of all you’re getting magnesium and lots of essential amino acids, yay! + when you cook it like porrige with the right toppings, it resembles christmas porrige!! Yum! Aaand it’s a gluten free option.

1. Put 1 dl (for 1 person) of buckwheat in a bowl with water overnight – to increase nutrition by tricking the seed to grow… They swell up a tiny pit so don’t use a tiny bowl.

2. Boil like regular porrige in the morning with water. Not too high heat, stay by the pot and stir. You’ll notice when it looks ready.

3. Now! Spice it up! With cinnamon and cardamom. Cut up pieces of persimmon, crush some almonds, grab some raisins, pour some oat milk on top.. And you’re good to go!

 

 
The @gkstories lunch bowl with yoghurt, persimmon & spicy warm chickpeas on top

1. Heat the pan with a nice oil, a clove of garlic, I used some sambal olek, and some nice herbs.

2. Stick the chickpeas in with some sesame seeds, and keep warm while you prepare the rest..

3. A yoghurt of your own choosing with some nice herbs.

4. Toss in a mixed salad (I used a lot of fresh spinach), pieces cucumber and persimmon. Don’t forget lemon juice on top.

5. Now pour the warm and spicy chickpeas on top! YUUUMMMM!

So easy and light and balanced. Enjoy!

Happy Healthy holidays

Can we do better?

We’re getting closer and closer to christmas. Closer and closer to a time when a lot of people gladly give in. Especially now, after this heavy, tough and challenging year – “we deserve it!”… So we sit/lay still more, drink and eat more (of everything) and at the same time stress more. Ironic, in a time supposed to be the most joyful and cozy of all, isn’t it?

I also believe we can agree that we all go for the fast and easy option. This is when it comes to everything; getting from point A to B, cooking vs. cooked, giving the kid an iPad instead of getting to the bottom of the moaning, sources, information, what we read… People read less in general (I’m impressed and happy if you’ve made it this far in my post). You see what you want to see and believe what and who you want to believe. So I’m hoping you’ll get through the rest of this text and hopefully collect something interesting, helpful or maybe even insightful. Hopefully that can then lead to an interesting conversation or discussion with someone.

Longevity

It’s taken me a lot of years to see the bigger picture in healthy living and constantly making an effort to do so. It just all seemed a bit too “over the top”… But then again, actively giving in to everything or not making an effort, that’s what I now see the other side of. Isn’t that what we should consider to be over the top and extreme???? Going in a different direction than what we originally (and evolutionary) were made to go in. Society makes it easy for us to go there, of course, to our comfort zones, gadgets and couches. That’s how our brains were programmed, to reward, eat and rest when we get the chance. But we weren’t made to stay there forever. Now, I’m not saying we should all just skip the things we enjoy a bit extra (whether that’s sugar or wine) and just have salad bowls and run every day. But how can we not make a conscious effort to live our best and most healthy life? Why wouldn’t we???

Yes, it’s been a challenging year. Even easier to throw in the towel and just have chocolate every day (haven’t we all been there?). It’s also easy to use the fact (and the excuse) that “it’s not that easy”. But we’ve heard enough motivational stories about inspirational people getting through difficult situations by now, to know that it’s not a reason to stop trying to do better. Maybe this is the year we learn, about ourselves and others. Maybe this is the year that made us all stronger and more patient than ever? Every single one of us, going through the same struggle, in different ways. And I’ll tell you this, with the world being what it is, we are learning to adapt to something the future definitely has more of, coming our way.

Mindset – the key to 2021!

We all hopefully do the best we can and if this year has taught us anything, it’s the ability to adapt. As someone else has put it so beautifully: “it is not the strongest of the species that survives, nor the most intelligent (…). It is the one that is most adaptable to change”. I see this as nature’s greatest strength and when we train it’s a must. Whether we get injured, age, get different circumstances in life (f.ex. living in the middle of a lockdown of society) or just change (which we all do on a daily basis).

Client example – is this you?? 

One of my clients “gave up” last lockdown. The client just figured “I’ll get some training done myself at home til then”. Was that the case? No. Months later, back in the gym, my client realised just how much had been lost when everything was put on hold as time passed by. That’s something we cannot do, sit and wait, and then complain about how hard and tough everything feels. We cannot put training, movement, our goals and meetings on hold. Even if it’s easier and more comfortable that way – nothing happens in the comfort zone. And, as we all know, movement and community are huge pillars for our health and wellbeing. Keys. Yet we can all se how it’s a big struggle now, when we’re forced to change social structures and routines.

 

Getting it done in practice

You know. I know. But how does it then turn out? We know that we should eat x and y. We know that we should move x amount of hours a week. We know that we need sleep, other human beings, love, purpose and so on. To then actually get down to it, practically, becomes something else.

Well, it will be easier if we do it with purpose. Goals, our “why”. By getting the help when it’s there for us (and it is everywhere today). Anything else would be stupid, especially when the strength to do it yourself isn’t quite there.

You can do it. The same way you get to work, because you have to, not because it always makes you feel good or because it’s easy. The same way you brush your teeth. So what are you waiting for? Why wouldn’t you take care of yourself?

Recipes

CHIA COOKIES

Here are the cookies we brought on our camping trip. We had them in the morning sun with a cup of coffee right by the waves.

1-2 tablespoons of chia seeds

1/4 cup (1/2 dl) oatmilk

⁃ stir and put in fridge for about 10 min –

2 mashed bananas

3/4 cup (1 1/2 dl) oats

1/4 cup shredded coconut

Around 3-4 big fresh and chopped up dates

1/4 cup dark chocolate chunks

1 tablespoon almond butter (I used tahini)

And spices! I used a bit of cinnamon and ginger.

Use a spoon, devide and shape little chunks of the dough on a plate with baking paper.

Put in oven for 17-20 min on around 175-180 c.

Leftovers should last around 5 days when put in a concealed storage container.

Enjoy!!