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OUTSIDE THE BOX with NATALIE HAGEMO
Each month I write a column called "Outside the Box with Natalie Hagemo" which is published in the Lakeshore Weekly. The column is about a not so normal experience I have each month in my community and beyond. I'd love to hear your feedback or any "Outside the Box" ideas you have. Email me at mnnat@aol.com
Lakeshore Weekly August 2009
By Natalie Hagemo
Lose inches, tighten, tone and firm up your trouble areas in 45 minutes, all in your own home. This is what I was reading in an e-mail from my friend Jen Hassler, who is a distributor for It Works Ultimate Body Wraps.
I clicked on Hassler's Web site at www.wrapwithjen.com to find out more about these Ultimate Body Wraps. To me it sounded too good to be true.
After reading through her Web site I went into my bathroom and stripped down to my birthday suit. Don't worry the Web site doesn't say to do this.
I took a good but painful look in the mirror. If you have never looked at yourself fully naked in the mirror I suggest you do it.
My attention immediately went to what I consider my problem area. My midsection was a constant reminder of the 50 or so pounds I gained and lost with each of my three pregnancies. Skin can only stretch and snap back so much before you start looking like you are carrying around a jello mold.
During my adult years I have been a size 16 and a size 4, but I mostly bounce between a 6 and an 8. Regardless of my size I've always had trouble slimming down my midsection.
I have what is known as an apple body type. I round out in the middle. If there were indeed a product that could help be become less apple and more hourglass, I was willing to try it.
I put my clothes back on and e-mailed Hassler. Normally the wraps are $25 each but your first one is $20. I ordered one and figured worse case I would be out $20.
A few days later my wrap arrived and I was excited about trying it.
It came with a card to keep track of your measurements, along with instructions. I took my abdominal/trouble area measurements and marked them down.
The wrap had a pleasant smell to it. I put it over my abdominal area, smoothing it out as instructed. The next step was to secure it to my body with cellophane. Thankfully my husband was home, as I realized fairly quickly that it was tough to wrap yourself in cellophane.
My husband held the cellophane while I twirled around, wrapping myself in it. The directions said you could stay wrapped for 45 minutes or sleep in it. I decided to sleep in it. You might think sleeping in cellophane would be uncomfortable, but I found it to be just fine.
The next morning I unwrapped myself and rubbed in the residual gel as directed. I then took my measurements again as I had done the night before. I was pleasantly surprised to find that I had lost two inches somehow.
The first thing I did was e-mail Hassler and told her to send me more of these wraps immediately. I signed up for the Loyal Customer program, which allows me to get a minimum of four wraps for $49 as long as I purchase them for three months.
Anxiously I awaited my shipment of wraps, which couldn't come soon enough. I figured that if one wrap was good, wrapping my abdominal area and thighs at the same time would be great. It turns out that was not a good idea.
First off, having your midsection wrapped in cellophane is one thing, but also wrapping both thighs in cellophane at the same time makes it hard to get around. I discovered that after doing this I felt nauseous and learned that you should only wrap one area at a time due to the detoxification that goes on.
The directions say to wrap one area every 72 hours. I did this for about two weeks and am still doing it. In my two weeks I've lost about 5 inches off my abdominal area.
As a side effect I started eating better. I think this is because getting immediate results inspires me to make better food choices, not wanting to lose the progress I'm making.
Today I stripped down naked again and took a look in the mirror. I have to say, I like what I'm starting to see. There is a definition to my waist that wasn't there before. I don't yet have the hourglass figure I want, but I'm becoming less and less apple.
Lakeshore Weekly July 2009
By Natalie Hagemo
Recently my lovely neighbor Phyllis Maynard passed away. She battled cancer and knew it was terminal. Being an organized and thoughtful woman she took steps to pre-arrange her funeral, which made things a bit easier for her family.
I'm the planner in my family. I plan, coordinate and carry out all arrangements for parties and vacations. If I want a birthday party for myself, I have to plan it.
I decided I wanted to preplan my own funeral, which God willing wouldn't happen for another 57 years.
It's my desire to live to be at least 95.
Barbara Johnson Hannah is a certified preplanning consultant with Washburn-McReavy Funeral Chapels.
She is a fun lady who made planning my funeral over lunch at Antiquity Rose feel like a normal occurrence.
There is no fee to preplan your funeral, but you have the option to pre-fund it.
I admitted to Johnson Hannah that I felt strange talking about my death at 38.
"Talking about death won't make it happen," she responded. What she said made sense as I talk about losing weight quite a bit, and that doesn't just happen either.
By the time our lunch arrived I was comfortable discussing all aspects of my funeral, from cremation and urn options to what to do if I'm in a coma.
Johnson Hannah armed me with the booklets and forms I would need to cover every detail of not just my funeral, but also my wishes when I was near death. It was fascinating.
Washburn-McReavy keeps everything on file for as long as it's needed, and you can update your information throughout your life.
Back at home I started working my way through the forms and planning booklets.
The easy part for me was deciding that I didn't want a viewing, and I wanted to be cremated in a cute strapless sundress.
Then, I want my ashes to be scattered in the Pacific Ocean by my children and Goddaughters, who then should pop open a bottle of champagne and make a toast to my fabulous life of more than 95 years.
The harder part was answering questions in the planning guide like, "How would I like to be remembered?" and "My greatest lesson in life is."
I started with the easier one about how I want to be remembered.
The two options in the planning guide are celebration of life or traditional format.
Anyone who knows me knows I'm not one to pass up a festive celebration and I'm not known for my conformity to how everyone else does things.
My afterlife party needed to reflect my love of life.
I knew exactly who to call to help me plan it. Cami Swanson of Exceptional Occasions is the go to event planner around Lake Minnetonka.
Swanson and I met and wrote out what my wishes for my ideal Afterlife Party.
We even came up with a signature drink that could be served. The Flirty Sea Turtle is part vodka, part pineapple juice and a shot of coconut rum. I am diligently researching what the exact measurements should be.
I want to be remembered in a way that celebrates my life and how I lived.
I love being with friends and family so an afterlife cocktail party with my favorite music, food and drinks is more fitting for me, rather than a somber lunch with a selection of hot dishes.
With the easier steps out of the way I went back to the planning booklet and one of the tougher questions.
After pondering my greatest lesson in life I realized I look at a storm as a temporary cessation of sunshine. I'm a hopeless romantic with optimistic tendencies.
In preplanning my own funeral it made me take a look at not just how I wanted to be remembered but also what I would be remembered for. I know I don't get to choose the day of my death, but I can choose how I live my life now and tomorrow.
So maybe my greatest lesson is that every day of life is a gift that should be enjoyed not endured.
No More Photoshop
By Natalie Hagemo Lakeshore Weekly June 2009
If you could change one of your physical traits, what would it be?
For me this is easy. I've been plagued for years by deep creases in my forehead.
When I lift my eyebrows in surprise or scowl in anger, ridges that you could ski on would show up.
Over time they left deep lines in my forehead when the ridges weren't present. I guess I've spent most of my time surprised or angry.
When I was little I would make a face that made my forehead crease, when I was annoyed with my mother. She used to say, "keep it up and your face will freeze like that." Maybe this has been my curse for being sassy towards my mother?
Regardless of how or why I've had these deep creases, something needed to be done about them.
Over the years I had gotten decent at using Photoshop to remove the lines from photos, but I was tired of living a lie through my photographs. It was time to take action.
Thankfully I discovered Ridgeview Seasons Medical Spa in Excelsior. I found out through a friend that they do Botox.
When I pulled into Season's parking lot I found myself looking around to see if anyone I knew was around. I was going to inquire about Botox, not toilet paper the place, but I still felt the need to be under the radar.
Walking through the door I was greeted by two beautiful women, Kris and Kathleen, who instantly made me feel at ease. I leaned over the counter and whispered to Kris, "I'm here to find out about Botox."
Kris took the time to explain some of the basics and helped me schedule a consultation and appointment with David, who would be doing my Botox.
A few days later I met with David, who had a reassuring manner that made me feel like I was in good hands.
Initially I had to address concerns that my husband had about using Botox. David explained that you would need to inject 40 vials of Botox in someone just to make them feel nauseous, so it was harmless in the small amounts we would be using.
He went over the procedure with me and explained how Botox simply relaxed the muscles and softened your look.
The goal was to enhance your beauty, not change you into someone else. I was ready to get started.
During my Botox injections Kris held my hand, which was comforting even though the injections didn't hurt much. They kind of stung a little. David let me know each time he was making an injection so there were no surprises. I had a little over 45 units of Botox.
At $10.40 an unit, the treatment costs less than $500. (Full disclosure: I didn't have to pay.)
As a bonus David made it so that I would have a little more of an arch in my eyebrow, something I had not had before. With another little injection above each cheekbone he said he could make my cheekbones pop more.
It takes two weeks for the Botox to fully take effect. I spent a lot of time checking myself in the mirror to see the changes happening.
Over the next 14 days, it was amazing to see those pesky lines disappear, my eyebrows arch and my cheekbones pop.
Additionally I did Microderm with Kathleen and started an acne-cleansing regimen to help with acne I had been dealing with.
Microderm unclogged my pores and did wonders for my acne, which I'm surprised to be dealing with still at my age.
By the time the Botox had fully taken effect I was thrilled. Those deep ridges were gone no matter what kind of face I made. My skin is smoother and I find myself wearing less make-up.
My friends noticed that I looked better but they couldn't place why, until I told them about the Botox.
I've been sharing my before photos and telling anyone who will stand still long enough about my Botox experience - no more under the radar for me. Plus think of all the time I'm saving by not having to use Photoshop.
Learning Blackbird
Lakeshore Weekly May 2009 - by Natalie Hagemo
During childhood many kids are introduced to a musical instrument of some sort. My childhood friends had weekly piano lessons or having grown up in Hawaii, ukulele lessons. My parents considered my daily jam with Barry Manilow music lessons enough.
When I was 11, I would rush home from school, put on those large headphones that we had back then and lovingly place my mother's Barry Manilow album on the turntable.
I would sing my heart out along with Barry to "There was a showgirl, her name was Lola." "Copa Cabana" was where I liked to kick it off, dancing around my living room holding my Hello Kitty brush as a microphone, pretending Barry and I were performing a duet.
I spent countless hours during the summer torturing my little sister by insisting we practice our performance of "I can't smile without you" complete with a choreographed dance number.
While kids my age were collecting Cabbage Patch dolls, I was busy transcribing Barry Manilow lyrics.
It was clear to me that any of life's questions could be answered in a Barry Manilow song. My friends would shake their Magic 8 Balls for the answers to "Does this mean he likes me?" and I turned to my Manilow lyrics.
By the time I entered high school it was evident that my peers didn't consider Manilow to be the musical Messiah like I did.
That was when I went into the closet as a Manilow fan and my Manilow music lessons ended.
Fast-forward more than 25 years and I found myself parked outside Sound Sisters in Excelsior about to have my first music lesson.
I owe this to Play Station. I love playing Guitar Hero with my kids. I'll also admit to playing it by myself when they are at school.
My instructor was a young gentleman named Jammer. The great thing about Jammer was that he not only was an amazing guitar player, but he didn't judge or ask why an almost 40-year-old suburban mother wanted to learn to play guitar. He just showed me the way.
Our first hurdle was deciding how to deal with me being left-handed.
If you play guitar as a lefty, the strings need to be restrung. This was quickly resolved when I proudly let Jammer know that in preparation for these lessons, I had been studiously playing Guitar Hero as a right-handed person.
During our first lesson Jammer informed me that my long acrylic fingernails would get in the way and should come off.
This created quite the predicament for me. If I removed my acrylic nails, my nasty nail biting habit would resurrect itself and expose my dirty habit. Having acrylic nails has been the only thing that has stopped me from biting. I sat there and contemplated "What would Manilow do?"
I put down my guitar and to Jammer's horror jimmied my nails off one by one. I would sacrifice for my art, and lay bare my vulnerabilities.
We met for several half hour lessons where, with the patience of a saint, Jammer taught me how to play "Blackbird" by the Beatles.
Starting out I knew I wouldn't be the next Jimi Hendrix. I just wanted to prove to myself that I could learn to play an instrument. After my first two lessons my goal also became to get through a lessons without swearing.
I'm proud to say that by my last lesson I could slowly but surely play "Blackbird" almost recognizably and also made it through a lesson without sounding like a sailor on shore leave.
Learning to play the guitar reminded me of how important it is to keep learning.
Doing something so foreign can be frustrating but when you realize you can do it, it's sweetly rewarding. The guitar did not become a passion of mine. I still turn to Manilow and his musical genius for words of wisdom, only now I use an iPod.
Discovering the Diva in You
Lakeshore Weekly April 2009 - by Natalie Hagemo
Discovering the diva in you
By Natalie Hagemo
With my wedding anniversary fast approaching, I found myself struggling to find the perfect gift for my husband. Being married to me for 11 years should earn him a gold medal but I wanted give him something a bit more intimate.
My friend Kelly suggested a "bedroom session" photo shoot with Amber Procaccini.
My first thought was "Why would my husband want photos of our bedroom?" As soon as I saw photos from other "bedroom sessions" I realized it wasn't about furniture or bed spreads.
Amber Procaccini is a Twin Cities photographer who is at the cutting edge of this latest craze known as the bedroom session photo shoot.
She will come to your home (you can also go to her studio) with makeup artist Julie Swenson to capture your inner diva on film.
It sounded like fun but I wondered if I had a sexy diva waiting to come out. There are times when I can barely pull off semi-decently dressed suburban mother, let alone sexy diva.
Just last Sunday I was in the church bathroom when I discovered that my underwear was not only on inside out but also backwards.
The sample photos of other bedroom sessions were of young, soon-to-be brides in beautiful lingerie, tastefully posed.
I tried to imagine myself in nothing but a bra and panties posing for the camera. Last month's root canal sounded more appealing to me than the idea of doing this.
I had a fear that I would show up for the photo shoot, strip down to my lingerie and the photographer would sternly say, "I'm sorry you misunderstood, but this is for young, skinny women whose bodies haven't been distorted by multiple pregnancies. Please put your clothes back on."
Interestingly my mind went right to what I felt was wrong with my body and why I couldn't do such a photo shoot.
This bothered me. Yes, I'm flirting with 40 and yes, I've had three kids, but I have just as much a right to do a bedroom session photo shoot as any young, hard- bodied bride. Suddenly I felt empowered.
The day of the photo shoot arrived, and I was nervous but ready to discover my inner diva.
Julie and Amber asked me what I had in mind for a theme or what I wanted to highlight. I'd given this much thought and decided that my focus should be my chest and hair since those are the physical traits my husband appreciates most about me.
I showed up in sweat pants, makeup-less and apprehensive. Within minutes I was transformed into a sultry, confident diva.
Julie styled my hair like it had never been styled before. I was thrilled to receive makeup tips on how to do the elusive "smoky eyes" that I have not been able to do myself. Mine often come out like raccoon eyes - again not sexy.
For the first part of the photo shoot I wore my husband's white dress shirt over a red bra. Little by little the shirt would slide off my shoulder or one more button would be undone.
About 30 minutes into it I had hit my sexy diva stride and was working those poses.
What I loved was that I was wearing more than I do to the beach but I still felt sensual. Much laughter, two hours and two outfits later we were done.
A few days later Amber sent me the first of the photos and my jaw dropped. Amber said that every woman should have a beautiful photo of herself and I see why now. Sometimes someone has to show you what they see before you see it yourself.
I'm proud of these photos. It took courage to strip down to my vulnerabilities. I faced my insecurities on my terms and won. The photos are a little racy but still tasteful.
Most of all I realized I don't just have an inner sexy diva, I am that sexy diva.
Lakeshore Weekly March 2009
Seven days of bad luck
By Natalie Hagemo
Have you ever experienced a series of events that made you question if the universe was trying to tell you something?
When things happen of an unpleasant nature, you can't help but wonder if there's a message in there somewhere.
I'm coming off of seven days of bad luck. It began with a loud spill at the Lakeshore Grill in Macy's (due to being dizzy from my thyroid acting up). Then I suffered from an infected tooth that needed a root canal, followed by two allergic reactions to two different antibiotics that I had to take for the infection, resulting in multiple rashes, horrible itching and a swollen eye. On top of that, I spent Valentine's Day in the emergency room of Methodist Hospital with a ruptured ovarian cyst. This all happened in seven days.
I normally consider myself an eternal optimist. My husband often asks me what the weather is like on my planet and how he can book passage.
But even I was having a hard a time not feeling like I had been cursed.
While I was in bed with my heating pad recovering from the ruptured cyst, I wondered if I needed to sacrifice a lamb to end my bad luck. Maybe some times bad things just happen to semi-good people? What positive lesson was there to learn? Also I doubted I could find a lamb on such short notice, and even if I did, I was sure there was a city ordinance against sacrificing animals.
After about a day of feeling sorry for myself I took another look at the previous week and saw things a little differently.
My sister Lana was with me when several strangers gasped after witnessing my fall in the restaurant. Yes, she laughed her butt off, both when I fell and an hour later, but her laughter allowed me to appreciate the humor.
When I awoke at 2 a.m. with tooth pain that made me want to gnaw my arm off, I e-mailed my dentist Dr. Scharf. By the time I called Northwoods Dental in the morning, his staff was expecting me. I got in right away and was referred to an endodontist who had me in for a root canal an hour later.
Everyone was where they needed to be and available to help me.
When I had the allergic reaction that left me looking like Quasimodo, Dr. Rundquist, the endodontist, got back to me immediately. We also had a pleasant conversation about the simplistic nature of men.
Also, as a side effect of the antibiotics, the acne I had been battling cleared up.
When I had the ruptured cyst, my mother came over right away and took me to the emergency room. I found out later that she had been up all night with food poisoning. I thought it was odd that she kept dosing off in the ER. She never complained about this and was there for me the whole time.
When I was able to leave the hospital, I drove while she was passed out in the seat next to me.
I came home from the ER on Valentine's night, but I felt like I had ruined what was supposed to be a romantic evening.
My husband Brad proudly put together a delicious meal, made completely in the microwave, which he lovingly served me in bed. Nothing says love like microwaved chicken wings and noodles.
I've concluded that I had an unusually rough week. It didn't end with an exorcism or sacrificial lamb, but it did end with a realization.
I realized that I am actually very blessed. I'm thankful to have individuals in my life that are there for me, and if that doesn't make me a very lucky person, I don't know what does.
Lakeshore Weekly February 2009
A look at the gentler side of tattooing
By Natalie Hagemo
Recently I caught word of a new business that opened in Excelsior. I've heard of this type of place existing in Uptown or Hopkins, but not this area.
Nector Tattoos opened its doors on Water Street with a space in Sashabana Salon. I was intrigued by the idea of a tattoo artist on Water Street and wondered how this service would fit in with its surroundings.
For the last year or so I have been considering getting a tattoo. I have what I call my decade lists. They consist of things I want to experience by the time I'm 40, 50 or 60.
On my "before I turn 40" list are things like get a tattoo and - to the horror of my children - be painted tastefully nude.
Maybe now was the time to cross "get tattoo" off my list.
I went in and met Melissa Thompson who owns Nector Tattoos. To be honest I had a few stereotypical ideas about the world of tattooing. I had visions of stepping into a dark studio with Marilyn Manson music blaring and being greeted by a 6-foot, 4-inch bald man with piercings through his nose and eyebrow, covered in tattoos, who would ask me in his deep voice if I have learned to love pain.
I could not have been more mistaken. Thompson's tattoo studio is clean, well-lit and beautiful. The walls are filled with her artfully done illustrations and relaxing music plays, which made the space very inviting.
Thompson is far from what I pictured a tattoo artist to be. She is a petite, beautiful woman with a gentle, organic nature.
Thompson is that rare person you meet who you feel safe opening up to and sharing. It's a quality that allows her to understand what you would like to communicate with your tattoo.
We chatted over coffee and discussed my tattoo. It was important to me that my tattoo have significance. I wanted it to be visually aesthetic on its own, but also have a story behind it that I could choose to share or not.
Thompson created a sketch. Initially we spoke about putting it on the back of my neck, where it would be concealed by my long hair. I made the appointment to come back in about two weeks to get the tattoo.
Two days before my scheduled tattoo I got sick and had to reschedule. My sister accused me of coming down with a case of "chicken." There was probably some truth in that, as I was a bit nervous.
After getting over my cold/case of chicken, I showed up for my appointment about a week later with my sister Lana and girlfriend Karen in tow. After speaking with Thompson I made a final decision on the tattoo design and location. Thompson created exactly what I wanted.
It's a pair of folded fairy wings representing my husband and me. Within the wings are five orbs of light, one for each of my three children and my two Goddaughters. We decided to put it on my back near where my left kidney once was, a kidney I gave to my mother almost five years ago when she needed a kidney transplant.
I wanted my tattoo to be a reminder of what is important to me - love and family.
I wasn't too worried about the potential for pain. Once you go through natural childbirth three times what qualifies as pain changes.
The tattooing was a bit uncomfortable at times but very tolerable. Having my sister and friend there made it more like a spa day.
We enjoyed some great girl talk during the two-hour process, debating the pros and cons of current bra styles - you know the usual tattoo studio talk.
I couldn't be more pleased with the result. I have since crossed off "get a tattoo" from my list. Now, onto the next item on the list.
A Fountain of Youth
Lakeshore Weekly Jan 2009
by Natalie Hagemo
Like many before me I have approached an age where wrinkles have taken up residence on my face. I don’t recall leasing to these terrorists of age.
At first I noticed fine lines when I smiled, then those same lines remained even when I wasn’t smiling. I felt betrayed by every mirror I dared to face.
Gray hairs began sprouting up. I couldn’t yank them out quick enough, and my friends got tired of doing it for me. For each one I would pluck, four would take its place. What was happening to me?
To my horror I realized the signs of aging had started to arrive and like head lice at a daycare. I wanted to be nowhere near it. It may sound ridiculous, but I didn’t think this would happen to me. How could I have to deal with wrinkles and gray hair? I was still combating acne.
I found myself pouring over shelves of anti age creams, anti wrinkle creams and “take this and you won’t age” vitamins looking for an effective defense to this assault on my youth. I drove my husband crazy with my obsession over it. I shocked myself with my own vanity.
For a time I was drowning in a sea of Botox brochures looking for a life line. I started hearing rumors that there was a “Fountain of Youth” just steps from Lake Minnetonka in Excelsior. I had run into a girlfriend whose skin just glowed. Not only did she look great, but she had such a positive outlook about aging. To be honest, at first her healthy attitude annoyed me. I was still wresting with my own demons on the subject.
It turns out that this “Fountain of Youth” was Suzanne Joy of Joy Aesthetics on Water Street in Excelsior. Immediately I went to her office, no appointment, just me and my desperation. Thankfully Suzanne wasn’t with a client and was able to talk with me.
Suzanne listened attentively as I rattled on and on about my situation. When I allowed her to get a word in she said, “Honey, you can’t give from an empty vessel, you have to allow yourself to be nurtured, and then we can get your inner radiance to shine through.”
At the time I wasn’t sure what she meant by this, but I would have lathered my face with lama pee if I thought it would stop me from aging.
I saw Suzanne several times for facials and my favorite the non-surgical facelift. Her approach is a holistic one, no needles or crazy chemicals. During our treatments she would get me so relaxed that I had discovered what the meaning of “me time.”
The relaxation that I experienced with Suzanne started to carry into my life. I found it easier to relax at home and my skin started to clean up. More importantly I wasn’t as preoccupied with getting older and was able to be more in the moment.
It was then that I realized my short lived obsession over aging wasn’t based in a fear of looking old. It was a fear of running out of time. Each gray hair represented less time on this earth for me, each wrinkle was another nail in my coffin. I know that isn’t rational, it’s just how I felt.
I decided to make some changes. When I play chess with my son I’m no longer on my BlackBerry, when I kiss my husband I’m only thinking about him and not wondering if he took out the garbage and when I’m reading I let myself get lost in the story with my feet propped up on a pile of laundry.
I’m not ready to age gracefully and I don’t have to with non surgical facelifts in my arsenal. The difference is I now think the elusive Fountain of Youth is more about living in the moment, rather than lamenting over time lost.
Parting with Loving Words
Lakeshore Weekly December 2008
by Natalie Hagemo
Recently I had an experience that made me contemplate a quote from Jean Paul Richter. He said, "Never part without loving words to think of during your absence. It may be that you will not meet again in this life."
I travel to Seattle a few times a year to visit friends, including one of my best friends Mark Nickels and his daughters (my Goddaughters) Michi and Sachi.
My husband calls Mark my "security blanket." He has a way of calming me down, especially when my life gets crazy. He isn't shocked by anything I say or do, but takes the good with the bad and loves me anyway.
During a recent visit Mark, the girls and I headed out to Southcenter Mall in Seattle for what we thought would be a simple day of shopping.
Toward the end of the afternoon, the girls and I were in a store trying to find the perfect pair of boots for Sachi. Mark had about all the shopping he could handle and was taking a break on a mall bench. We were only in the store for a few minutes when we heard a bang so loud it made me afraid to breathe.
I looked at Sachi, who met my gaze with a look of shock you don't want to see. I tried to convince myself that a sign had fallen. Moments later there was another bang that removed any doubt: It was gunfire and it sounded near.
I grabbed Sachi's arm and looked around desperately for Michi. I found her and we moved to the storage room behind the store.
I was reminded of the movie "Dawn of the Dead," when people hid from zombies in the mall, in the back of stores. This is what made me think of running into the storage room.
I knew I needed to get the girls as far away from the sound of gunfire as possible.
Mark was closer to the exploding sounds than we were. Holding onto both girls I hoped they couldn't tell what I was thinking. I told them everything would be just fine, but I was thinking that I would fall to the floor if I didn't know Mark was OK. I kept thinking "two shots, there were just two shots." There could have been more but over the panicked sounds of people, crying children and the pounding of my own heart, I couldn't be sure.
The worst thing was not knowing what had happened, and wondering if someone was going to come in the store with a gun.
After what felt like an eternity, I heard Mark call my name from the front of the store. At that moment I closed my eyes and exhaled. I yelled that we were in the back and he joined us. I had never been more relieved to see him. Once the four of us were together, I felt calmer.
There were a few people on their cell phones. I wondered if I shouldn't be calling someone too. I thought about calling my husband but decided against it. What was I going to tell him? That I was on the floor in a storage room because there was gunfire in the mall? There wasn't anything he could do about it and I didn't want him to worry.
I thought about the people I love most in my life. I felt good about the fact that they knew I loved them, and I thought about the Richter quote. Thinking about that quote got my mind off of the horrors I pictured going on in the mall.
After not hearing gunfire for a while, Mark went out to find out what was happening. He saw a victim on the ground and said it looked like they were evacuating the mall. Stepping out of the store was surreal. Most stores were locked up and people were running or walking towards the nearest exit. We saw police with assault rifles heading into and around the mall. We made it to our car and spent 45 minutes trying to get out of the parking lot. There was a sea of people as stunned as we were.
When we were watching the incident on the news, it was reported that one gunman allegedly shot two people, and the police were still looking for him.
When I was reflecting on what had happened I realized that during those moments of uncertainty the one thing I was certain about was that there is nothing more important to me than the love I have for my family and friends.
I think we could all benefit by showing those we love that we love them more often, not just on their birthday, during the holidays or because of a mall shooting. Just for no reason at all, other than to say "I love you" and mean it.
When all is said and done isn't love the ultimate "security blanket?" After this I see more than ever the importance of leaving those I care about with loving words. Like Richter said, "It may be that you might not meet again in this life."
A Pirate's Eye
Lakeshore Weekly November 2008 - By Natalie Hagemo
For years I have been living a lie. I’ve had a secret yearning that has been with me since I was a little girl, growing up on the beaches of Hawaii. I would spend hours on the beach in front of my Grandma’s house fantasizing about what I wanted to be when I grew up. My peers wanted to be ballerinas, singers, moms, or even doctors. I knew what I wanted to be would not be seen as appropriate for a young girl. It‘s a dream I never let go of, a dream I can no longer hide.
I Natalie Hagemo have always wanted to be a Pirate! Yes I said it P-I-R-A-T-E, sorry mom but I can no longer hide who I am. As a child I had visions of sailing the open seas, proudly flying my pirate flag with my trusty green and purple parrot Gizmo on my shoulder.
To my Grandmother’s horror I would spend hours running up and down the beach with a bandana tied over my head in true pirate fashion, planning my next treasure hunt, with my imaginary parrot Gizmo. My aspirations didn’t quite fit in with that of my families. My father was one of the first Lifeguards on the world famous beaches of the Northshore of Oahu, my uncle Duane was a professional surfer. My father tried to get me into surfing but I was more interested in sitting on the surfboard, pretending it was my pirate ship. He finally gave up on turning me into a professional surfer, and got me the eye patch I wanted.
Now fast forward 25 plus years to October 2008. I figured my dreams of a pirate’s life were dead and gone, that was until a chance encounter with Captain Dan Stuessi at a local Kinkos. Captain Dan grew up on Lake Minnetonka and has been a boat Captain on the Lake for about 16 years. He currently is the Captain of The Destiny, a 45 ton charter boat on Lake Minnetonka owned by Paradise Cruises.
After chatting with Captain Dan at Kinkos we came up with the idea of me captaining The Destiny as the subject for my “Outside the Box” column. I had never Captained a small boat, let alone a 45 ton charter vessel. As the saying goes “Go big or go home” right?
I went out with Captain Dan and his crew members on two different charter cruises. The first was for a wedding reception and the other was Excelsior Insurance Agent Chad Babcock’s annual party. I did everything from pulling the lines for departure, to bartending and safely manuvering the giant vessel across the waters of Lake Minnetonka. I felt such a sense of freedom being out on Lake Minnetonka, choosing our route as we went along, and experiencing the beautiful sunset on the water.
Going into this I thought it would just be a fun experience and give me insight into what it is like to work on a charter boat, which it did. What took me by surprise was how it awakened my childhood dream of being a pirate. Each time Captain Dan sets out on a cruise, he has no idea which way he is going until it is time to make the next turn. Even though he has been on Lake Minnetonka his whole life, each cruise is a new one. I’m convinced Captain Dan has a bit of pirate in him too.
Maybe being a pirate isn’t all eye patches and parrots? Maybe it is just being willing to see the newness and adventure that is all around us, even in our own back yards? I’ve lived in this area for 14 years and never fully appreciated the beauty of Lake Minnetonka until I saw it through the eyes of Captain Dan.
An Aerobics Class with a Pole
Lakeshore Weekly October 7th 2008 - Natalie Hagemo
During my year as Mrs. Excelsior I had to step, sometimes leap beyond my comfort zone. From public speaking, to walking gracefully across a stage while wearing 5” acrylic heels, that I would never wear again, in a gown I couldn't bend at the waist in. Let’s just say I got used to doing things that made me uncomfortable in more ways than one.
As difficult as it was at times, I enjoyed reaching beyond my comfort zone. It was through these new experiences that I was able to learn things about myself. Things that I don't think I would have discovered any other way. Sometimes I learned something good about myself, other times I became aware of things that made me wonder how anyone puts up with me.
Now that I have retired my tiara and hung up those 5” acrylic heels, I still find myself with the desire to try new things that push my limits. With this column I'll be getting out into our community to take advantage of new experiences that are “Outside the Box” for me, and sharing them with you.
To start I wanted to tell you the story of how I learned about pole burn. I’ve been attending a class at Wolf Fitness in Wayzata called “Strip Fitness”. Now before you get any crazy ideas, know that this is a “fitness oriented clothes- on class”. Shannon the instructor is quick to point this out at the start of class. Why she looks at me when she says this, I’m not sure.
What fun is Strip Fitness without your girlfriends’ right? Being the great friend I am, I took a few of mine with me. Okay maybe I told them it was an “aerobics class” just to get them there, but they thank me now. Once you sign your waiver holding the studio harmless of liability, should you loose control on your pole and go flying across the room, you are good to go.
Our poles were mounted in the center of a square platform, complete with flashing lights, about a foot off the ground. It’s like having your own mini stage. Shortly before our 7:00pm start, the blinds to the studio were closed, the overhead lights turned off, with only disco lights illuminating the space. Hip hop music was blaring over the sound system, at times with lyrics that made even me blush.
The class starts off easy enough with some simple hip swaying, and toe taping to get you acquainted with your pole and being on the platform. A little latter you are jumping up onto the pole with your thighs clenched around it, while holding yourself up using your upper body strength, you then slide down while spinning slowly in a circle. Do this enough times and you will learn what pole burn is.
About 20 minutes into the class you find yourself bent over backwards with one hand on the pole and the other on the ground supporting your weight, while thrusting your pelvis upwards towards the pole. This gives your butt muscles an amazing workout. It was at this time with my head bent back, that I looked around and saw my girlfriends having the time of their life, bopping their heads to the music while sweating like crazy.
After about 40 minutes of pole work you get to work with a folding chair, perfecting your “chair dancing” skills. This involves some great upper body work and is definitely something you could practice at home. At the end of our hour each one of my friends said they would do it again, and that it was the most fun they have ever had working out!
The next morning sure my thighs and arms were aching, but it was so worth it. Each time I go I’m able to do a move better than I could before. It’s a blast to just let go of those inhibitions while getting a great workout. Maybe I’ve found another use for those 5” acrylic heels after all?
Family is like fudge,
sweet with a few nuts
Excelsior Bay Times August 2008 - Natalie Hagemo
Whoever said “Family is like fudge, sweet with a few nuts” had my family in mind. Most of us take advantage of our beautiful Minnesota summers to get out and spend time with the family. The days are longer, the outdoors call to us. We bond over mosquito bites and ice cream at Licks.
My family is no different. What is different is that summer vacations with my family have resulted in a security led manhunt through the Tate Museum of Modern Art in London searching for a missing father in law last seen near Rodin’s sculpture “The Kiss”,(who was found safe and sound 4 hours later, 45 minuets away), or having to convince an older member of our family that though the castle we were visiting had no restrooms in its time, it was still not okay to urinate outside, and my personal favorite which is when I was maced with bear pepper spray, while on our houseboat trip in the boundary waters. There is never a dull moment with my family, I’ll say that.
We have a list that grows longer with each passing year of castles, restaurants and museums that we have been politely asked not to return to. You know, you accidentaly set off the alarm in a restaurant during dinner in the English countryside and suddenly you are a criminal. I mean what genius hangs an alarm pull cord from a bathroom ceiling anyways? I doubt I was the first human being to mistake it for the light switch. You get your sister to put one arm around the Venus di Milo at the Louvre in Paris for a quick photo and suddenly a tightly wound French woman is yelling “Ne pas toucher!”, which I think means “Do not touch”. Europeans really need to learn to relax.
Throughout our adventures together, especially during the mishaps we learned something new about each other, even more than we cared to know at times. Even if it was only learning that bear pepper spray should not be stored in the fishing boat of a curious 70 year old man who likes his Scotch.
If you were to merge the movies “Little Miss Sunshine” and “My Big Fat Greek Wedding” you would have my family. Instead of using Windex as the “miracle cure- for- all” as in “My Big Fat Greek Wedding”, my sister Lana is a fan of Listerine. On a family trip to Lake Vermilion this summer, she happily doused her self and surroundings daily using her trusty spray bottle of Listerine. She says it is a natural bug repellant. We weren’t completely convinced of this, but at least she had that minty fresh smell all week.
Each of us has a cast of characters in our families. Maybe you grew up in a “Leave it to Beaver family” but married into an “Adams Family”. The fun part is working it all out and learning how to get along, even if it may involve the occasional accidental macing.
What I’ve learned is that when you are born you have relatives, but a family is created and requires a Saintly amount of patience and understanding. Growing up my family often consisted of people I wasn’t even related to, and I don’t mean in a “Charles Manson’s Family” way but the mom’s best friends were my Aunts kind of way. In the Hawaiian culture you better refer to your mom’s best friends as “Auntie” otherwise it was a sign of disrespect.
In my house your family is not only who you are related to, but who you claim as family, whether related by blood or not. I have two God Daughters Michi and Sachi, who were just here visiting from Seattle. These two girls have and will have the same love I give my own children, complete with embarrassing them when and how I see fit. They had a refresher course in what it meant to be a part of my family while here on their recent visit.
As pictured here we visited Ooh La La on Water Street during a Thursday night Excelsior Girl’s Night Out event. Owner Connie and her daughter Tana have become family to me, enough that Connie promises to never ban me from her store no matter how much of her salsa dip samples I eat, though meant for “real customers”. That particular night was Salsa Night. Michi and Sachi didn’t completely warm up to Salsa dancing and refused to take the stage with me and participate. They are more into swing dancing, which they do in Seattle. Of course Connie and Tana were right there with me on stage busting a move for Salsa Night.
I feel that occasionaly embarrassing your children is a good way to toughen their skin and prepare them for the real world. Picking your teenagers up from Minnetonka High School while blaring Sir Mix Alots “Baby got back” with the windows down is a good start. It’s how I like to kick off the start of school year.
Oh and for you parents of teenage girls, I have discovered how to get our daughters to dress more conservatively. The next time your daughter is wearing an inappropriately low cut top, inform her that you will be borrowing it next week to wear while volunteering at her school. That usually is enough to get my daughter into a respectable top quite quickly. Trust me when I tell you, you only have to actually do it once to let her know you mean business, then after that the threat is enough. It’s worth the odd looks you may get at the school.
Families don’t always come in pretty packages with a bow on top. Sometimes they come in a torn K-mart bag with the price tag still attached. What I’m trying to say is we have to celebrate our families and love them for who they are, not who we think they should be. So what if you have a public urinator in the family, a mother who keeps threatening to tape record your conversations so people can “really hear how you talk to me!”, or a sister who smells like listerine. Maybe fudge is sweeter with the nuts?
I’m probably the nuttiest one of the bunch, so who am I to judge anyone in my family? I’m not exactly a yardstick for normalcy. I sure am guilty of trying to fake the packaging. I spent most of last year packing lunches full of veges for my 9 year old picky eater to take to school. I knew he wouldn’t eat the veges, but it would sure look good to the teachers when he opened his healthy packed lunch. They would all think “wow that Natalie Hagemo is such a good mom”. Take away the packaging and I’m a mom who fakes her kid’s lunches, embarrasses her teenagers on purpose and tells the world about her weight issues complete with pictures.
So yes, I’m a bit nutty but I love my family and they love me. Maybe we are more nuts than fudge? That’s just how we roll. Right now I have to go return my mothers 3 phones calls she just made to me in the last 10 minuets, before she once again sends a neighbor over to make sure I haven’t died of carbon monoxide poisening.
Getting Back to Fitness Basics
Excelsior Bay Times July 2008 - Natalie Hagemo
Photo on the left June 2007 Photo on the right June 2008
Oh yeah I’m going there, I’m playing the fat photo card, back rolls and all! My phone should start ringing any minute now with a frantic phone call from my mother, concerned that I may have not just gone“outside the box” but lost my mind completely, by putting this in the paper.
I’m taking one for the team in the hopes that it inspires anyone else who may have similar issues to mine. My hope is that this encourages them to take a step towards fitness. Trust me when I tell you, if I can make progress so can you.
The photo of me and my blubber was taken a year ago when I first started working with Deb Gisselquist at Fitness 19. You may have heard that Deb was recently voted as the “Best Personal Trainer in Lake Minnetonka” by Lake Minnetonka Magazine!
My “after” photo was taken just a few weeks ago, more on that in a few minuets.
I have been working this last year on getting rid of my back fat, and “muffin top”. My skinny sister didn’t even know what a muffin top was! For those of you not savy with the fat lingo, a muffin top consists of the glorious fat that hangs over the top of your pants like an actual muffin top. God Bless the woman who invented Spanx. If you don’t know what Spanx are, you are on your own there, google it.
My personal weight loss journey or “my walk/run out of my old town Tubbyville” as I like to call it, has opened my eyes to the amazing amount of support it took for me to make and maintain the needed changes that had to occur. I applaud anyone who can do this on their own; apparently I require the support of an entire town.
Now I will be the first to admit that I’ve had to take semi-extreme measures at times. I was forced to threaten my daughter with being grounded if she brought one more tub of Papa Johns cookie dough into the house, a sugar-fest trigger of mine.
I’ve been known to tell the employees at Dunn Bros at times, to not sell me baked goods no matter what I said, or I would ask to have them fired. They are under new management now, so I can come clean on that. Cutting back on sugar makes you do crazy things. What I’m happy about is I’ve finally learned some self-control, which involves no one being grounded or fired. I think it may be safe to take down the posters with my face on it that say “do not sell her baked goods!” from area bakeries.
Let me take this time to formally appologize to my family, friends and staff at local coffee shops for my behavior during my sugar withdrawls. It wasn’t pretty, but I’m better now. Boot Camp has taught me these radical ideas they call “self control” and “delayed gratification”.
There is no perfect time to get healthy, life in all of its twist and turns still happpens. There is sometimes a too late a time that comes, when illness due to an unhealthy lifestyle sets in.
My road out of “Tubbyville” was not one free of potholes or road blocks. Life still happened. In my recent final weeks of boot camp my daughter Shelby graduated from Minnetonka High School. One morning the week before the ceremony, I was down in my office trying to put together a scrapbook of photos that went back to when she was an infant. It was emotional, I was hoping I had done a good job as a parent, if not at least I had two younger kids to get it right with (of course I’m joking, Shelby is amazing). My husband found me downstairs surrounded by 17 years of photos, tears streaming down my face and chocolate muffin crumbs all over my chin and chest; I had eaten 3 of them! Now I’m talking monster size muffins, not the best nutritional choice, but I moved on. I brushed off those crumbs, wiped my eyes, made that scrapbook and faced the world once again, life happens.
Now after 12 weeks of boot camp at Fitness 19 my whole outlook on exercise has changed. Back before I was so enlightened, runners on the street annoyed the heck out of me. I thought they were just showing off. Now, I find myself slowing down and cheering them on saying “You go sister/brother!” with an added fist pump showing my solidarity with my fellow fitness people. Despite the odd looks I’ve gotten in return, I’m pretty sure they get I’m with them.
The other day I went into Fitness 19 and ran on the treadmill, without my bootcamp trainer Scott there making me do it! The scary thing is and it shocks me to say this, I liked it. I would not have believed you if you told me 12 weeks ago I would be running on my own. Now trainer Scott Craig has me thinking maybe I can even run 3-5 miles. He has this way of getting you to believe you are capable of accomplishing what you think you can’t. After boot camp you starting getting these strange ideas about how it might be fun to do a 5K, maybe I can wear shorts in public, maybe I should get photographed semi-nude for my husbands 54th birthday?
This takes me back to my photo shoot with Photographic Artist Lorri Downs of Remember Me Photography in Excelsior. Lorri is a brilliant, talented photographer and a pleasure to work with. She specializes in custom artwork. She can take a photograph and make it look like an oil painting, pure magic. When she was photographing me she told me she enjoys bringing out the best in people when photographing them, which is exactly what she did.
Ciara Pierson did my hair and make-up and had fun with us at the photo shoot. Ciara also did my daughters hair and make-up for prom. I strongly suggest using her if you have a special event coming up. You can reach her at 952-261-4394
If you go to www.remembermephotography.com and visit Lorri’s blog she should have more photos from the shoot we did posted. It is a real treat to visit her website and see what she is able to do as a Photographic Artist. The family photos in her studio on Water Street are breathtaking. I’m considering starting a “Lorri Downs Groupie Fan Club” on Facebook.
Whatever your motivation for getting fit, take that next step, take baby steps if you need to. Set up a support system. Email me, I’ll be your cheerleader. Oh and for those of you who read last months column and have been emailng me, YES I have since gotten a new pair of workout shoes. My purple cross trainers have been retired.
You’ll see me at Fitness 19 continuing on my fitness road, my old town “Tubbyville” behind me, barely in sight in my rear view mirror. New boot camp sessions are starting and Scott Craig is available for Personal Training. You can reach Fitness 19 at 952-380-9919.
I’ve got some potential new motivation in regards to my fitness. Myra Wang has me considering joining her on her humanitarian trip to Afirca in January to benefit the Lights of Hope home and school for girls in Kenya. The trip includes hiking up Mount Kilimanjaro in Africa. Hmmmm, that would be quite “Outside the Box” wouldn’t it?
I would love to hear from you, email me at mnnat@aol.com with comments or any “Outside the Box” ideas you have for an upcoming column.
Surviving Bootcamp Taking Fitness to the Next Level
Excelsior Bay Times June 2008 - Natalie Hagemo
Four years ago I was a size 16, and that’s in women’s, not juniors. I had plus-size clothing store Lane Bryant on speed dial right before Pizza Hut. The simplicity was, my mom needed a kidney and I was told I could only donate one of mine if I lost about 30 pounds off my rotund frame. This is when I found out my BMI (Body Mass Index) was in the obese range. I was more overwhelmed by the idea that I was “obese” than the idea of undergoing a five-hour surgery and giving up an organ. I knew I was fat, but realizing I was the pre-gastric bypass Carnie Wilson of my family was shocking. OK, I wasn’t as big as Carnie was, but next to my two skinny sisters it felt that way.
I went to the mall, bought a pair of purple and white cross trainers, and started doing 30 minutes of light exercise about twice a week. My mom even came with me to the gym and we walked on treadmills, side-by-side, getting ready for our surgery. We shared many healthy lunches at Antiquity Rose in Excelsior and my mom was sure to give me the “sideways eyebrow lift look” if I even glanced at the desert menu. Obviously, she had a vested interest in me dropping the weight that went beyond it being good for my health.
With the help of weight watchers online and the exercise, I dropped the 30 pounds just in time to qualify to undergo the kidney transplant surgery. Things went great and we both recovered just fine. Each March 10th, we celebrate the anniversary of our successful kidney surgery. For our family it is like a New Year’s celebration but in March.
I successfully kept the 30 pounds off for the next three years with semi-decent eating and the occasional walking with my trusty purple and white cross trainers. Though I was no longer obese, I was still overweight, by about 25 pounds. At about that time, I decided to do the Mrs. Minnesota International pageant and became Mrs. Excelsior.
On a fine June day in 2007, I strolled into Fitness 19 on Highway 7 and Highway 41, and met with then- trainer Deb Gisselquist. Deb has since become the manager of Fitness 19, no doubt because she totally rocks. I told Deb that I was competing in the Mrs. Minnesota International pageant and needed to lose the rest of my pregnancy weight from my third child, about 25 pounds. Of course she asked me how old my baby was and I reluctantly had to fess up that he was 8-½ years old.
Once again, I strapped on my then 3-year-old purple and white cross trainers and got to work with Deb. I never knew until recently that you are supposed to replace your workout shoes. I’m from Hawaii, when I ran track in high school, I ran barefoot. I never got the memo about the tennis shoes needing to be replaced, plus I had a lot of sentimental value attached to those shoes. Those were the shoes I wore when I started down the road out of “tubbyville.”
My workout sessions with Trainer Deb were creating results and for the first time I realized how vital personal training was to getting fit. I learned how to work out so that I got the best results for my time spent in the gym. With a job, volunteer activities, three kids, husband, meddlesome mother, a dog and turtle to take care of I needed to make every minute count.
At the start of one training session, I confided to Deb that I was worried about a “mass” I felt in my abdominal area and was thinking I should see my gynecologist. Quizzically, she looked at me as I put her hand on what I believed was a “tumor.” After laughing hysterically, Deb composed herself and let me know my “tumor” was what is known in the fitness world as an abdominal muscle. It had been so long since I had felt or seen my abdominal muscles, that I didn’t even recognize them when they finally resurfaced.
By pageant time, which appropriately fell on the fourth anniversary of my kidney surgery with my mom, I had dropped the 25 pounds and over 16 inches! For the first time in nine years, I was not overweight. Now I wasn’t tiny by any means. I’m a curvy gal and will never look nor do I desire to look like Paris Hilton. I’m Hawaiian and my people are bred to paddle canoes and conquer oceans. I doubt Paris Hilton can do that.
So here I was four years later, 55 pounds smaller, minus one kidney and plus one tiara. I was no longer overweight but wanted to take my fitness to the next level and get more toned. How could I do it in a way that was “Outside of the Box”?
Once again, I grabbed my old faithful purple and white cross trainers and headed back to Fitness 19. This is where I met Trainer Scott Craig who enlightened me on Fitness 19 Boot Camp. This would involve working out 6 a.m. to 7 a.m., three times a week for 12 weeks! To me, this was a completely insane idea, so of course I signed up on the spot.
I did a fitness evaluation and the almighty Body Fat Percentage charts told me I was in the “acceptable” column as far as my fitness level went. To get into the “Fit’ column of the chart I would need to lose about 5 percent of my body fat, which translated into about 8 or so pounds. We were tested on how long it took us to run a mile; for me it was more walk than run. We had to see how many push-ups and sit-ups we could do. Then came the moment when Scott whipped out the measuring tape and it was time to face reality.
After about a week, I could wake up at 5:40 a.m. without wanting to throw up. Trainer Scott kept things challenging, yet fun, and we did something different each day. Each Monday we spoke about nutrition and shared what was working for each of us. The first two weeks I was fairly enthusiastic about getting going and welcomed Scott’s wise words of encouragement. During water breaks he would say, “Alright come on, you are getting a drink of water not digging a well over there. Let’s get going.” By the third week, I had visions of sticking my water bottle some place he wouldn’t appreciate. Not only did my body ache somewhere constantly, but I was waking up at 6 a.m. on non-bootcamp days, which really irritated me. Week No. 3 was not a pleasant week for me. My husband and three children can attest to that.
But then came week No. 4 and we re-tested. We did all of the tests we did at the start of bootcamp and my enthusiasm returned. After four weeks, I took 3 minutes off my mile run/walk, I doubled my push-ups and increased my sit-ups. Most thrilling to me was I lost 1 inch off my waist, which has always been a problem area for me. My results encouraged me to do more with nutrition before the next re-test in four more weeks.
Week No. 6 was about halfway through our 12-week program. My fellow bootcampers Barb, Suzy, Julie and Steve were also all making progress. We really had a team going and you felt accountable to them if you didn’t show up, which meant you were more likely to show up.
At about this halfway point I was reflecting on what I had learned in bootcamp so far. I had learned that:
The jump rope is not my friend. I don’t care what Scott says I still think mine was broken and that is why it kept hitting me in the feet and head, almost strangling me.
The only way to truly lose weight and keep it off is with nutrition and exercise, which will have to be a part of my daily life from here to the end of time, so as not to return as the Mayor of my old town“Tubbyville.”
Like many other activities, working out with someone else is more fun than doing it alone.
At week No. 8 we re-tested again, just in time as my aches were starting to get the best of me again and I needed a boost. Since the start of bootcamp eight weeks ago, (drumroll please) I have now taken a total of 3.5 minutes off of my mile, increased my push-ups by 400 percent, doubled my sit-ups, lost 4.5 pounds, and 3 inches off my body!
Scott suggests it is time for me to get a new pair of workout shoes. I explained my sentimental attachment to my shoes, that they carried me out of “tubbyville,” through an organ donation and beyond a pageant. He suggested I “get them bronzed but by all means stop wearing them and get some new shoes!” I’m taking this under consideration, maybe it is time. Maybe my old purple and white cross trainers are becoming less security blanket and more health hazard?
So here I am with four more weeks of bootcamp to go. My progress has inspired me to do something a bit shocking at the conclusion of bootcamp. This is something that goes a little beyond even “Outside the Box,” some may say a little “out of my mind.” But I am going to do it for everyone woman who ever thought they were too fat to (fill in the blank), for every woman who has fallen off the nutrition and exercise wagon but still gets back on. Stay tuned in July for what will surely be the good, the bad and the ugly.
For now, I leave you with some words of wisdom that Bootcamp Instructor Scott likes to say — “Don’t do more than you should, but don’t do less than you can.”
Nothing Like Karaoke to Let Your Hair Down
Excelsior Bay Times May 2008 - Natalie Hagemo
My year in the world of pageantry took me way outside of my comfort zone, and not just because having my eyebrow hairs yanked out of my head with wax is uncomfortable, to say the least. What I realized was that sometimes just outside my comfort zone is where the adventure lies. So here I am, my year as Mrs. Excelsior is ending and I’m starting a new beginning. Now that I’ve experienced things outside of my own box, I’m not sure that I can or want to go back in.
With the Mrs. Minnesota pageant over and the retiring of my crown about to occur what does a soon to be ex-pageant queen do? Well I’ll tell you what this one did. She hops a flight to Seattle Washington to visit her oldest friends. Oldest in more ways than one, I have known them since I was 19 and they are older than me, ha, ha. These are the friends who have seen me at my best, and at my worst yet still love me. Also there is a freedom in going to a city where no one knows who you are, nor do they care if you slip up and curse in public, or are caught pulling out a wedgie (both no-no’s while a pageant queen).
What was so “outside the box” for me on this trip can be defined in one word “Karaoke”. Now to say that I do not sing would be an understatement. Some of you may be modest and claim you don’t sing but you can still carry a tune. I actually can not sing. With the liquid assistance of a flaming drink called “The Volcano” compliments of Manager Patrick Haight, at the Hula Hula Karaoke bar in Seattle I took the stage.
This is where you sort the wheat from the chaff when it comes to your friends. A friend may go with you to a Karaoke bar, a real friend will sing with you. An even better friend will get up to sing with you without even knowing what song you had volunteered them to sing, as was the case with my very good friends Tammy and Linda. My other best friend Mark Nickels apparently felt his talents were better used in taking pictures, documenting what for us was to be the closest we would ever come to an American Idol audition.
What possesed me to pick Elton John’s “Bennie and the Jets” to sing is still a mystery to me. Regardless the three of us belted that song out with more passion than a group of school girls at a Hannah Montana concert. I suggest taking a look at the lyrics to “Bennie and the Jets” when you get a chance, that is one strange song. “She’s got electric boots, a mohair suit….” what is that even about? I challenge you to try right now to remember the lyrics to that song, it’s not easy. Singing it was even harder.
I have to say though, it was soooo much fun! We let our hair down and had left our inhibitions in the car. We had not just gotten outside the box, but I think we forgot where we left the box.
By the end of the night my feet hurt from dancing, my throat hurt from all the singing and my face ached from so much laughing with people I love. It was a perfect night and it really brought something home to me. I realized that it is so much easier to step outside the box, to swim a little further into uncharted waters when you know you have someone who will not only swim out with you, but who also knows when to offer you a life line.
My challenge to you (after you find and learn the lyrics to Bennie and the Jets) is to call those old friends of yours, and go step outside the box, test the waters and see what adventure you are capable of. I believe William Purkey said it best when he said:
"Dance like no one is watching, love like you'll never be hurt,sing like no one is listening,and live like it's heaven on earth."
You don’t even need to go all the way to Seattle to do it. The High Timber Lounge in Chanhassen has Karaoke Thursdays and Fridays 8:30 to 1:00am. Maybe I’ll see you there. I’ll be the one in the “Electric boots and mohair suit”.