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I'm Katy! I'm a Phys Ed teacher, fitness and yoga instructor. I love fitness and fashion! Join me as I kick the crap out of you with my at-home HIIT workouts, and mostly make fun of myself.
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Thursday, 17 October 2013

Let's talk about BOOBS.

Pin It I'm writing this post because yesterday, after Stroller HIIT, I was having coffee with some wonderfully smart, beautiful, hilarious Moms who all have a sense of humour, put health as a priority, and run their households like badass mofos.

Speaking of bad asses, we started talking about our bodies.

You read that right.

And we started out pretty good. We talked about what a fit group of women we had. We talked about how strong we had become. How many push ups we just did. How our legs were sore already from squatting. How we threw down a 12km run in record time. How we pushed a human out of our vajayjays and lived to tell about it.

Then we started talking about physical appearances. Some of us wanted to be leaner. Some wished they didn't have stretch marks or cellulite. Some wanted abs. And some girls wanted breast implants.
Just us hanging out hitting the weights. No biggie.
Source: Sisters in Shape
I totally relate to this. Being a fitness and yoga instructor and Phys Ed teacher myself, I will tell you it is HARD to be in the fitness industry sometimes. I'm surrounded by people that have beautiful, tanned skin, muscles in places I didn't know existed, white veneers that could blind me, willpower the size of my appetite for chocolate, and more silicone than I know what to do with. Open any fitness magazine and you will see gorgeous women who are ripped from head to toe, with nice, perky boobs. And I'll admit it: I like it. I like to look at them. I like that they are strong AND sexy, but I also know that strong and sexy can be a female Crossfitter, or an Olympic heptathlete, or that chick down the street who goes for runs on the weekends. I do worry that women and girls will strive for an ideal that is literally impossible to do on their own- as it physically requires surgery. 

Let me reiterate. We want, like, zero fat on all other parts of our body, but we are supposed to have giant funbags for boobs? How is that normal, or fair? Fair would be if the extra love in my lovehandles were considered sexy. Or if the stretched skin on my stomach was considered a badge of honour. Or if men felt the same need to make, ahem, one of THEIR body parts bigger. 

Are implants like like putting makeup on, getting eyelash extensions or fake nails? Is it like straightening your teeth? Is it a fair reward for working so hard and having low body fat? Is it a gift to women who want to feel more "womanly"? Do women like looking at that ideal, or would they prefer the real thing? I can't answer these questions. What I do know is that I've had braces, I've had my teeth whitened, I've had laser eye surgery, and I feel damn good when I have my makeup on and my hair did. That being said, I think it is sad that women of all shapes, sizes, and cups aren't celebrated in the fitness world.

Two months ago, I was asked to contribute to Gorgo Women's Fitness Magazine- a dream come true. Erica and Val, two women I believe in wholeheartedly, asked me to join them at a photo shoot. I would get photos done for the column I would be writing for them (Think Carrie Bradshaw, but fitness. Without the designer shoes. Or NYC apartment. Or millions of dollars. Or the size zero. Or smoking addiction.).

And I was terrified. The shoot was less than three weeks away, and I literally got the email as I was getting ready for a wedding: eating Mini Eggs, and downing multiple a glass of champagne. I know the "fitness look"- jacked from head to toe, huge boobs- and it's not me. I have small boobs, wide hips, and I certainly enjoy my indulgences in life. Fitness is not universal- there are MANY ways to be fit- yet people want to idolize the girl who looks hot in a bikini, even if the girl in the full piece wetsuit can kick the crap out of her. I don't have a six pack, but I know my core is my strongest asset. I wouldn't wear micro shorts to save my life, but I know I can outrun a whole hell of a lot of people. I don't have Michelle Obama arms, but I can push up and push up and push up like a mofo. And I don't make excuses for myself, but I also just had a baby. It was, to say the least, terrifying.

Most of the photos that were taken at the shoot were of the real models with sports bras and short shorts. And they looked amazing. But I was glad (read: scared shitless) to be given a chance to be "me"- a real woman with a pear shape who eats chocolate and drinks wine, and kicks ass in the gym. I even did a shoot with a workout I created. It was inspiring, empowering, and hopefully- the way of the future.

Source: Gorgo

A few things: 1. My thighs touch when I'm not posing. 2. I don't have abs unless I flex.
3. My boobs are non-existent. 4. I AM FIT.
Holla!   
Personally, I am not for, nor against breast implants. One of the girls at coffee said something that really resonated with me: "Wouldn't it be great if we could celebrate the Moms who got their bodies back, but with saggy boobs and stretched out tummies? Now THAT shows hard work." I couldn't agree more.

If I was self conscious about my boobs, or if my body resembled that of a Grecian goddess or a fitness model, then perhaps I would consider implants. I just feel like they would get in the way of hoisting my wine glass. That, and I just couldn't possibly handle getting more attention than I already do. I do have like, three whole fans, you know.


What do YOU think of breast implants in the fitness world?






Wednesday, 9 October 2013

CLEAN Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough Amazeballs

Pin It If you know me, you know I have a major sweet tooth. I've tried everything: completely cutting myself off from sweets (in which case, I ate just about everything in sight to make up for the dissatisfaction of not eating chocolate, causing me to gain a zillion pounds); having only 1-3 squares of chocolate per night (which is great and all, until the weekend hits); saving it just for the weekend (don't talk to me between Monday-Friday); and finally, saying F it and eating sweets whenever I want.

The point of that rant is to show you I have no clue what the hell I'm doing.

Truth is, I limit my sweet tooth. A lot. I'm pretty good during the day, and must admit weekends I give in on my cheat meal. But during the week, I love something sweet after dinner. I've been resorting to protein shakes, apples and peanut butter, or gnawing off my son's arm. I think popping a few of these will be just what I need. Now if only I can not eat them all in one sitting.

I adapted these from Oxygen Magazine by changing up the chocolate (you know it) and making a few other changes.

Makes about 30 gooey cookie dough bite-sized balls (it took everything out of me not to make a comment about gooey balls):

1 cup quick oats
1 cup natural peanut butter
2 tbsp honey
4 tsp vanilla extract
30 semi-sweet chocolate chips
1/2 cup liquid egg whites (pasteurized)
4 tbsp unsweetened coconut almond milk
1 scoop chocolate protein powder (this is optional. If you omit this, use half the almond milk! I use Vega Sport Chocolate)

Using your ginormous biceps, combine all ingredients except chocolate chips and form into balls on wax paper (set on a cutting board or baking sheet). Add one chocolate chip to each ball. Place in freezer and let set for a minimum of 1 hour. Voila!

These balls are a little lopsided, but I'll take it. 
You can then put these bad boys in a freezer-friendly container, and when a sweet craving hits, just pop a few out of the freezer and let thaw for 15 minutes. Enjoy your balls!!!




Monday, 23 September 2013

Work, B**ch (Build your BUTT Workout!)

Pin It It's been a while since I posted a workout, and even longer since I called you all bitches.

Don't blame me, blame Britney for coming up with a catchy song that my teenage students could have written themselves.

(Um, I totally downloaded it as soon as it came out).

This workout will take you just under 20 minutes to complete, and you can do it ANYWHERE! The more obscure, the better (I'm thinking in your office, in the public restroom, on an airplane, down the aisle at a wedding... do it. Send photos to katy@fitinheels.com.).

This is a cardio and lower body (read: BOO-TAY) workout.


Cardio
Complete one of the following three moves:
2 minute jump rope OR
2 minute run (faster than a jog) OR
2 minute stationary cardio workout (jumping jacks, shadow boxing, etc.)

Lower Body
Directly after your cardio interval, complete these four moves (within 1 minute 15 seconds):

10 jumping squats


10 plie squats (with calf raise)

10 speed skaters

10 jumping lunges


Repeat this circuit SIX times while repeating "Work, B**ch" over and over again in your head, picturing me whenever you hear the "B" word.

I like it.



Thursday, 19 September 2013

Do YOU yoga?

Pin It Many people are surprised to hear that I'm a yoga teacher.

Wait, what? But you're a sarcastic, creepy, blonde bimbo who drinks wine, eats chocolate to excess, and swears way, way, way too much. You can't have any real educational background. 

I feel you, peeps. And while all of the above is true, I am a real yoga teacher. I even have clients! And photos as proof!

This is actually me. 

This was right before that huge wave took me under.

I'd like to think of myself as a fitness jack-off... Shoot, wait.. jack-OF-all-trades: on a weekly basis, I may do any number of workouts consisting of HIIT (high intensity interval training), cycling, running, strength training, and yoga. It has had a profound impact on my body, my training, and overall, my life- it is a type of training that I highly recommend to anyone at any age.

My favourite type of yoga to practice and to teach is Power Vinyasa Yoga (flowing from one pose to the next intermixed with lots of strength moves). It's amazingly empowering, and helps my body stay strong and flexible (flexibility being a component of strength). At the beginning of the class, we usually set an intention- it could be patience (with yourself, your family, dumb people at the supermarket), staying non-judgemental (with yourself, your family, dumb people at the supermarket... uh, not that I'm judging), or it could be specific like unleashing your fears, making a transition in your life, or choosing to be happy.

Pretty heavy stuff. This is why yoga is so cool. It helps you in ways you don't even realize. At the end of the class, during Savasana (basically where you get to play dead for 5-10 minutes, usually listen to some plinkity-plunkity music, somewhat hear what the teacher is saying, and try not to fall asleep), we think about our intention that we set at the beginning of the class. The circle of life.

So there's a reason I've been talking about yoga and intentions- I connected with a Canadian company I want you all to know about called Tiny Devotions! They keep this idea in mind of setting intentions not only in your yoga class, but EVERY DAY! Tiny Devotions makes beautiful malas (prayer beads that are gorgeous as everyday jewelry) that each have different meanings to inspire you to set a daily intention, and be more aware of your mind and body.

My beauty friend Laura Bridgman first introduced me to Tiny Devotions. She even sent me this gorgeous amethyst stack bracelet from them... so I channelled my inner boho yogi and took this selfie.

This literally took 50 takes. 
There are so many beautiful mala necklaces that I love... here are a few I'm coveting:

Serendipity Mala (friendship, spontaneity, abundance, luck)

Mama Mala (motherhood, maternal instincts)
(I am a sucker for all things Mom. My kid will smear some mud on a paper one day and I will cry over the sentimentality)


Katie Brauer: Mala of Truth (confidence, strength)
They have gorgeous bracelets, scarves, even wall art- it's a great gift idea for the yogi in your life! Check them out.

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to Savasana. Without the yoga class.




Monday, 9 September 2013

I'm not dead! Just elderly.

Pin It HAYYYYYYYY peeps! Sorry for being the most boring mofo on the planet.

Truth is, I've been actually the opposite of boring: coffee dates, running by the boardwalk, cottaging, going out with friends, celebrating summer, participating in a new and exciting launch (more deets to follow soon!), and overall being awesome.

Oh, and letting my son smash cars into my hardwood floor while I write.

Not so awesome: my blogging skills. I got some great feedback from my Facebook fans that let me know that some (4) of you actually read this, which got me motivated to write again.

The end.





Just kidding, I'll keep writing, just for the 4 of you. In July, I was at the cottage, getting up every morning with my husband and son and going trail running in preparation for my upcoming duathlon (run-bike-run). My back was a little tight from the hills, therefore I thought it would be a great idea to help my back feel better by swinging my 3-year-old nephew between my legs so he could kick a soccer ball.

Bad call.

I was out for a month. I went to my chiropractor (who I love.. she is a little pompous but she gets shit done) and got a few massages, but it took time, ice, TLC, and lots of telling my husband to do things for me for it to heal. I was actually really good nutrition-wise during my injury, as I literally could not do any working out. Because I was so amazing, I further told my husband what to do as a reward to myself.

I really wish this man would do something around the house.

Here is a photo of me in excruciating pain.

I was about two weeks out from my duathlon and still couldn't put pressure on my right side. I decided to cancel the race and get an entire $20 back from my $100 entry fee.

Magically, the very next day, my back felt better. I thought it was Mother Nature trying to F with me, so I gave it a few more days. I was healed! Apparently when you finally give in to your back being F'ed up, it magically heals.

I re-signed up for my duathlon and actually did it a week later... and it was the coolest thing in life.

The end.



Okay, I promise I will write more, but my floors are now scratched to shit. It was totally worth it.


The end.