OUTSIDE THE BOX with NATALIE HAGEMO
Each month I write a column called "Outside the Box"" 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.
Also enjoy my day to day rants at
"Mommalicious in Suburbia".
Trip to Apple Orchard Shows the
Hard Reality of Hard Cider
Lakeshore Weekly November 2011
I am often asked why I would ever leave Hawaii for a place like Minnesota. My answer is that I love the seasons. I love how every season changes my landscape and my wardrobe.
The traditions of each season excite me, whether it is sledding in the winter, the excitement over the first buds of spring, boating in the summer or the comforts of fall when my home is filled with the scent of cinnamon candles.
Living in a place that provides every season to its fullest is my idea of paradise. Recently I discovered the Minnetonka Apple Orchard in Minnetrista off County Road 26. The orchard has been around since 1976 and has been owned and operated by the same family.
It is exactly the kind of place I dreamt about as a child on the island of Oahu. There are hayrides, apple picking, walking trails, live music, animals, food and more. You could spend a whole day there.
The day I visited it was having Cider Fest. People from Midwest Supplies were there educating the public on how to make their own home-brewed beer, wine or cider, even hard cider. I was beyond excited to be able to learn how to make my own hard cider.
Despite my love of all things edible, I'm not much of a cook or baker. I just wasn't born with the Betty Crocker gene. I'll tell you this though, I can clean a house like it's nobody's business. We all have our domestic talents, and cooking is not my strong point.
I'm not sure what made me think making homemade hard cider was an easy task. There was a demonstration going on that I took part in. First up you are supposed to cut off any bruised parts of the apples. That seemed not so hard.
Next the apples are put through a hand-cranked apple crusher. From there the process involved these strainer things, yeast and fermenting for hard cider and a few other steps. They lost me after the crushing of the apples. Though drinking hard apple cider is in my future, making my own is not.
Once I realized making my own cider was not for me I moved on to the doughnut stand, where they were also serving hot apple cider with no work required. I don't know what they do to those doughnuts, but they are fabulous.
My sticky, sugar-laden fingers and I headed toward the orchard to see what the apple picking was all about. There was row after row of apple trees. Once you purchased an apple-picking bag you could fill it up. I didn't actually pick any apples because my hands were full with my doughnuts and cider, but I did tag along with a family as they picked apples.
It was fun to see kids young and older so excited about picking apples.
Walking back up one of the trails I came across the hayride. Kids and adults were having so much fun on it. I didn't actually get on the hayride because the idea of hay poking through my jeans did not appeal to me, but boy those people on it were having a great time.
After working my way through the brat stand, and purchasing some apple crisp, I thought I might go see the animals. But, then I remembered I hadn't taken my allergy medication and I didn't feel like living through the sneeze and snot fest that being around barn animals would create for me.
Though I didn't really do much beyond eat and walk around at the Minnetonka Apple Orchard, it is still someplace I'm going back to.
I also realized that if I really want to experience these seasons I love so much, I have to be willing to get dirty and maybe even a little uncomfortable.
I did fulfill my childhood fantasy of walking through falling leaves wearing a cute fall outfit, while sipping apple cider at the apple orchard.
The Minnetonka Apple Orchard is definitely now on my list of fall traditions. The next time I go I may even bring my family.
Mrs. Hagemo Goes to Washington
Lakeshore Weekly October 2011
What I am passionate about is prostate cancer and the effect it is having on the men in our lives.
One of my best friends Tamara Jett introduced me to the world of prostate cancer. Her father was diagnosed several years ago and has been fighting this disease, which affects one in six men, ever since.
One year ago Jett founded the Minnesota Prostate Cancer Coalition with the mission statement, "to make prostate cancer a key health care priority in the state of Minnesota." She invited me to be on the board of the organization and I jumped at the chance to help out.
The fact that one in six men will be diagnosed with prostate cancer stayed with me. One in eight women will be diagnosed with breast cancer. There is a lot of advocating going on across the country for breast cancer, but nowhere near enough for prostate cancer.
Though I don't have a loved one with prostate cancer, I do have a son and a husband who both have prostates, so I figure I am being proactive.
Each year in Washington, D.C., a national non-profit called Zero - The Project to End Prostate Cancer hosts a summit that brings together prostate cancer survivors, advocates and people in health care.
The goal is to educate, empower and build a team of advocates across the country for prostate cancer.
This year I was invited to attend the summit as a representative for Minnesota along with Jett.
I'd never been to Washington, D.C. and was looking forward to exploring the city, along with learning more about prostate cancer and the latest inroads with prevention and finding a cure.
My thought process hit the skids when I was told that we would also be meeting with our state leaders to confirm or gain their support on certain prostate cancer legislation.
I had to face the fact that though I was born and raised in the great USA, I did not have a comprehensive understanding of how our government worked or was laid out.
Of course I knew the basics like who the president was, and our governor, but not much beyond that. At this point I had to go to my husband and fess up that yes, I was asleep at the wheel and needed a crash course in government.
By the time I got to Washington, D.C. and finished the first day of the summit, I understood who I would be meeting with, and why I was meeting with them.
Our first stop was Sen. Amy Klobuchar's office. The senator herself was there and met with us, even providing a breakfast. She was the only elected official that we saw face to face.
We met with someone from Sen. Franken's office. The aide that we met with from Rep. Erik Paulsen's office was very helpful, even offering the help of their team in Eden Prairie.
All in all it was a great opportunity to raise awareness about the need for support when it comes to prostate cancer. It's a disease men don't like to talk about.
If you are a woman, get the men in your life talking about prostate cancer screening. If you are a man go get yourself screened, especially if you are over 50 or have a family history.
Visit www.mnpcc.org for more information.
The Art of Fire Cupping
Lakeshore Weekly August 2011
I have multiple 2 to 3 inch red circles along my spine and shoulders. Although, I was not attacked by a mutant lake octopus, my marks did come about in an unusual way.
A few days ago I visited SuNu Wellness Center in Minnetonka. It is located next to Redstone in a beautiful building overlooking a peaceful body of water.
SuNu offers a variety of services ranging from aesthetics and acupuncture to chiropractic and massage therapy services. One of its unique services and the one I experienced was fire cupping.
People in China have been practicing fire cupping for thousands of years as a means to reduce aches and pains in the body, related to an imbalance of energy or blood flow.
It is a treatment used for relaxation and even increased immunity. Being part Chinese myself I felt it was my duty to explore something that is part of my heritage.
My great-grandfather was a Chinese immigrant when he moved to Hawaii and fell in love with my Hawaiian great-grandmother. Fire cupping was not an art passed down in my family, but hey, it's never too late to try something.
My "fire cupper" or more appropriately my acupuncturist at SuNu Wellness Center was Aimme Deen.
Fire cupping is often used hand in hand with acupuncture. I was at SuNu to get some help with a tight back and a cold I was fighting when fire cupping was suggested. Deen had me lay on a table face down in a quiet, nicely lit room with relaxing music playing softly in the background.
Deen took a cotton ball, drenched it in rubbing alcohol and then set fire to it. As I laid there with a flaming fireball of cotton above me, I realized how this also was an exercise in trust.
She then put the fiery cotton ball into a glass jar that looked like a small fish bowl, creating a vacuum when she applied the jar to my back. My tight muscles were pulled and sucked into the jar with the vacuum.
It was actually quite pleasant and felt like a massage. She let some of the jars sit while she moved others around pulling my muscles, which released the tension that had been stored up in them.
Deen said that the jars were removed when my skin underneath achieved the desired color, showing blood flow to the area.
My back looked like it was covered in giant, perfectly round hickeys, which she said would last about four days. I don't know how long the average hickey lasts because I think they are tacky, but fire cupping hickeys are cool.
A friend of mine who recently had been to China said is was common to see people walking around with the red circles from fire cupping.
After the treatment I did feel relaxed and my muscles did feel less tense.
What has been the most fun is showing people my red round circles and having them try to guess how I got them.
They don't hurt at all and are fading with each day. I would absolutely do fire cupping again, and I would recommend you try it. It isn't even a requirement that you be part Chinese. We have a lot to learn from Eastern medicine. I've been learning more and more about the benefits that many have known for thousands of years.
Road Trip Adventures
Lakeshore Weekly July 2011
Snorkeling at the beach that was my Grandma's backyard was, but 10-hour road trips were not.
My first road trip was when I was 13 and flew to Washington to see my cousins who lived more than two hours from the airport.
Being in a car for that long felt so unnatural. I kept thinking that the car was going to drive off into the ocean eventually.
A few months ago my mom, who also now lives here in Excelsior, told me that seeing Mount Rushmore has been on her bucket list.
My sister and I decided that we would take our mom to see Mount Rushmore. We would each take two bags, a dog and hit the open road.
Anyone who knows me well knows I hate leaving the Lake Minnetonka area. I still have "Island mentality" and don't like to have to drive for more than 15 minutes to go anywhere. Driving 10 hours each way is very outside the box for me.
Apparently my mom didn't get the two-bag maximum memo and showed up with nine bags and her deaf chihuahua Lee-Ling. My sister had two bags plus her macho chihuahua Biggie, and I stuck to the two-bag rule and brought my Maltese and love of my life Loki.
With Loki in his car seat, the GPS programmed and coffee in hand, we hit the open road at 6 a.m.
Between our bathroom breaks and need to see the only corn palace in existence, during our trip we didn't go more than two hours without stopping. I don't know how those long haul truckers do it.
Even though the drive to Rapid City was about 10 hours, we spread it out over two days stopping in Chamberlin, S.D. for the night.
Roughing it as we were we did not have reservations. We threw caution to the wind and pulled into a hotel with no room service or spa, seeking shelter and rest, weary from our travels and multiple bathroom breaks.
The next day we arrived in the Black Hills. Over the next four days we ventured to Bear Country twice, which during mating season was really something to see. We experienced the wildlife loop at Custer State Park. My sister and I channeled our inner cowgirl on a horseback adventure.
The highlight of our trip was arriving at Mount Rushmore with my mom. With tears in her eyes she took in the majestic wonder of this monument. Of course, 20 minutes later my sister was playing wheelchair race with my mom, speeding down one of the walkways.
In keeping with our sense of adventure, on our way back we picked up a hitchhiker named Cindy. We made a wrong turn and almost ran into her. Despite my mom's screams of "Don't you dare put a stranger next to me!" we pulled over and picked her up.
Cindy was a teacher in New York who hitchhiked to Montana and was on her way back to New York. After my mom interrogated her for two hours, my mom felt confident that Cindy wasn't going to harm her and make off with her identity.
Cindy ended up spending almost two days with us on our journey back to Minnesota. She stayed with my mom in her hotel room and the two became fast friends.
We really thought we were roughing it by driving by ourselves, not having hotel reservations and winging it on our trip. After meeting hitchhiker Cindy we realized we have a lot of room to grow in terms of truly roughing it. Cindy was sleeping in campgrounds with a tarp, not even a tent, and by choice.
Our road trip taught us a few things and brought us closer together. First, we realized that winging it can be a lot more fun than planning every detail. Secondly, it doesn't matter where we are as long as we are together. Lastly, life really is about who you know and not what you have. Adventure, and bonding, can be just a car ride away.
It Takes a Village to
Nurture an Adult
Lakeshore Weekly June 2011
As a wife, mom, volunteer, columnist and all else that I do, I depend heavily on my family, friends and community to help me keep the show on the road. I need and have a team of people behind me.
I know I can count on my neighbors to bring in my mail if we are out of town and to call me if it looks like the kids are throwing an unauthorized party. My mom is a great dog sitter and does double duty as a backseat driver. Not something I really need, but she thinks so. My sister helps with picking up my son after school when I'm running late, and she makes for a great lunch date. Downtown Excelsior provides an endless amount of entertainment for me to blow off steam. I'm a huge fan of Girls' Night Out.
This year is proving to be a busy year full of transition for my family and me. My husband and I have kids going off to college, our youngest will start middle school next year and we are both busier than we have ever been with our careers.
This has left me feeling that I need more ways to work smarter - not necessarily harder - and I need ways to decompress and relax so I'm ready for the days ahead of me.
Recently I discovered Spirit of the Lake Yoga on Water Street in Excelsior. Its mission is "to serve as a community resource for yoga, meditation and holistic wellness services."
As I browsed its website and menu of services at www.spiritofthelakeyoga.com, the astrological counseling services caught my eye.
Astrology is not something I knew much about beyond what magazines have told me my horoscope was for a given day.
I made an appointment with astrologer Amy Jensen. Ahead of time I sent Jensen my date, time and place of birth so she could create what is called a natal chart. Also known as a birth chart it is a personal and unique chart that shows where the sun, moon and planets were when you were born. From this the astrologer can have insight into your personality strengths and weaknesses.
When I sat down with Jensen to go over my chart I was amazed by how accurate and insightful it was as to who I am and what I do. Not surprisingly my chart showed that I am communicator. As a Virgo I'm very into list making. You should see what I call my "Ultimate Camping Packing List." It is an Excel spreadsheet that is six pages long, alphabetized by categories, so yes I love my lists. I make lists about the lists I need to make.
Jensen also did what is called a transit chart, which helps me to determine when it is or isn't a good time to do certain things. I spent about a month following it. The idea is that if you are working your chart your life will be more balanced. I started playing softball at the time my chart recommended I direct some energy into recreational sports. Many of the things I was doing matched up with what the chart said I should do even before I knew what the chart said.
I found that the truer I was to myself and who I am, the more balanced my life felt. I'm far from perfect and don't always behave in a way that everyone approves of, but I know who I am and I'm comfortable with myself, quirks and all.
Astrology is something I see as a tool in my toolbox of life.
Additionally I started meeting with Swami Lisa Bergly, also at Spirit of the Lake Yoga. She offers spiritual counseling and has great insights into how we can create harmony in our life.
The more fine tuned and comfortable I am in my own skin, the more effective I can be in my life. I'm thankful for my family, the friends I have and my new friends at Spirit of the Lake Yoga for helping me keep the show on the road.
How to Fight Off the Signs of Aging
Lakeshore Weekly May 2011
The women in my family tend to age fairly well. My 82-year-old Hawaiian grandmother still has younger men flirt with her, and she can give as good as she gets.
Genetics and cosmetics have played a key role in maintaining a more youthful appearance.
Most people don't guess that I'm 40 or that I'm old enough to have a 20 year old. My 18 year old has been mistaken for my sister, much to her annoyance. Many assume my 12-year-old son must be my oldest.
I've enjoyed years of not looking my age but have felt recently that my genetics and cosmetics have begun to betray me.
There has been an increase in fine lines around my eyes and little veins on the side of my nose. What the heck?
I'll admit I hadn't really done much in terms of skin care. I don't moisturize with yak placenta or have a skin care ritual using Himalayan glacial melt blessed by the dalai lama.
Usually I'm washing my face in the shower with whichever face wash I can reach first, and moisturizer is whatever free sample I have left in my purse.
It was time to get some professional help. I made an appointment at Wayzata Plastic Surgery with paramedical esthetician Jill Schierholz after a friend recommended her.
After consulting with Schierholz she suggested I do the vitalize peel. The peel would address my concerns of fine lines and also work to repair sun damage. I figured I had some sun damage considering I grew up in Hawaii and had just gotten back from a week in Mexico.
Schierholz did an impressive job of educating and enlightening me on what proper skin care was about and why we needed to do it.
I was happy to hear that it didn't involve yak placenta. She gave me a few tips I didn't know.
One was that we should flip over our pillows every couple of days and be sure to wash the cases regularly. Our pillowcases hold products from our hair and face, which can contribute to clogging pores while we sleep.
Another thing she did was clean my BlackBerry, which is also something we should be doing regularly as our phones touch our face.
I wash my pillowcases but I don't think I've ever cleaned my phone.
Though I was nervous about the words "mild acid" used to describe the vitalize peel, it was completely comfortable.
Schierholz used her laser to zap away the veins that were appearing around my nose. Magically they were instantly gone, which thrilled me to no end.
After my peel and a little laser work I had an appointment with injection specialist Kristie Friedrichs, or as I like to call her "The Wrinklenator."
Friedrichs gave me the most painless Botox I've ever gotten to help smooth out deep lines in my forehead.
With a new skin care regimen in place I went home for the weekend to start peeling. It was about a day later that my face started to flake and peel, which is part of the procedure.
It wasn't anything too distracting. I looked like I had just gotten back from a vacation in the sun and was peeling a bit. This went on for about three days.
Each day my skin became smoother and smoother. Botox takes a few days to a week to kick in.
After a week the deep lines on my forehead were gone and my skin had a softness I hadn't felt in sometime.
I started running around town with my bangs pulled back, exposing my now smooth yet still animated forehead, and wearing less make-up.
With results like this after one peel I can't imagine how great my skin will be after the recommended three to four peels.
Wayzata Plastics Surgery has a variety of non-surgical, non-invasive options to turn back the hands of time.
As I navigate down the road into my 40s and then 50s I may even explore some of their surgical options. I would love to try liposuction.
Age gracefully if you want, embrace your fine lines if you please, but with the advances of modern technology I'm fighting it like it's the plague.
On Becoming a Hip Hop Artist
Lakeshore Weekly April 2011
Kim Zolziak from the Real Housewives of Atlanta did "Don't be Tardy for the Party."
This got me thinking maybe it's time I dropped my own single? I mean why not?
I'm not a reality TV star but I have a pretty decent Facebook following. I'm not on the Real Housewives series on Bravo, but I'm a real housewife of Lake Minnetonka. I'm not a singer but that didn't stop Kim K. or Kim Z.
My experience with singing has been limited to martini-fueled karaoke and belting out "Hey Big Spender" in my shower.
I like to think that what I lack in actual talent I make up for in my performance.
Lucky for me Grey Studio is on Water Street in Excelsior. It's run by producer Chauncy Akers who jumped at the challenge of taking a bathroom diva and turning her into a recording artist. Akers had been working with my sister Lana, who is a singer.
In our first meeting we discussed musical genres and what direction we should go in with our original song.
At first we were going to try creating a dubstep song. If you are not familiar with it, Google it or ask a teenager. I only knew about it because of my 18-year-old.
I wasn't a fan of dubstep but I thought it would be very outside the box for me to record a dubstep song. Try as we might, we could not stand dubstep long enough to get through the song, so we decided to switch to hip hop.
My sister Lana got involved in the project and co-wrote the lyrics with me, while Akers created the music.
Watching Akers work was like watching van Gogh paint, minus the crazy ear chopping. I was amazed at how he created something from nothing.
Recording an existing song is one thing, but creating and recording an original song is much more work.
Lana and I wrote the lyrics based on my life and my Outside the Box column and came up with a song aptly titled "Outside the Box."
Then it was time to get in the recording booth. The first thing I learned was how sensitive the microphone was. The producer and I could hear every swallow and gulp. I just hoped my stomach wouldn't growl, or worse.
After running through the song Akers realized I had no idea what I was doing. Recording an original song is difficult because you haven't heard it before and it wasn't clear to me when I should sing what.
Eventually Akers came in the booth with me to calm my nerves and to point out when I would sing what.
With Akers in the booth it went better and we were able to record the lyrics in only a few takes.
I was incredibly nervous, as I don't really have a singing voice. I have more of a "to reach tech support press one" type of voice.
Once the recording was done then the real work began. Akers worked his magic using his massive recording equipment to put the final touches on our track. A few days later I had a single.
In the end I discovered someone with no singing experience could create and record an original song, with the help of professionals.
Now that I have my single the question became what to do with it? I have no delusions of becoming the next Natalie Cole. I'm content with being Natalie Hagemo.
What I am going to do is have a CD release party. I'm not releasing a CD, but this is the closest I'll probably come to being a hip hop artist, and I want to make the most of the experience. I would have to say this is the most outside the box experience I have had yet.
Releasing Pent Up Energy
Lakeshore Weekly March 2011
Having needles stuck in my head, hands and legs was not something I would have thought of as relaxation time.
I've always been curious about acupuncture but have been afraid to try it.
I'd had a little bit done by a chiropractor a few years back, but not full blown acupuncture.
A friend of mine has been sharing with me the success she has had with it and my curiosity finally got the best of me.
Recently I visited the Minnesota Clinic of Integrated Medicine in Chanhassen. The clinic has a holistic approach to health and uses Chinese medicine and acupuncture to help individuals.
Acupuncture is an ancient medicine involving placing fine, sterile needles at specific points on the body.
The goal is to balance one's Qi (pronounced chee). The more balanced your Qi the happier and healthier you feel.
I filled out an extensive questionnaire designed to help my acupuncturist determine where the needles should be placed and what health issues needed to be addressed.
Sandra and Mason McClellan run the clinic. Both are traditional Chinese medicine acupuncturists. On the day of my visit I saw Mason.
After reading through my questionnaire and chatting for a while, Mason took my pulse on both wrists. In Chinese medicine the pulse is used to help in determining any issues.
I was also asked to show Mason my tongue, which is also used as a tool in determining what may be going on.
Many seek out acupuncture as a way for dealing with female health issues, weight loss, stress and other issues. My chief complaint was fatigue.
Lying back on a comfortable table I did my best to relax despite my nervousness over the needles.
Mason started placing the needles down by my feet and legs. The first few didn't hurt at all.
The one that went in my calf created an odd, quick pulling sensation and then became very warm. I barely noticed the needles placed in my head and forehead.
While the needles were going in effortlessly I relaxed a bit as I chatted with Mason, who has a very calming disposition. I felt fairly calm and content.
When he placed a needle in my left hand all that changed. At first it felt a bit painful like the sensation in my leg, then I started bawling. I mean seriously crying for no apparent reason.
I was shocked by my crying but Mason wasn't. He said it happened often. He explained that it was a good sign and meant there was energy needing to be released. He gave me tissue and left me to relax in the room for a bit.
I cried for a few more minutes. I figured I might as well go with, so I didn't hold back. I was doing the Oprah ugly cry. If I had pent up energy I might as well get it out. It was a good cry.
After a few minutes I stopped crying and was just relaxed. Normally my thoughts are almost constantly racing. I'm thinking about what I'm doing next or who I was supposed to call or e-mail.
If I'm not thinking those things some annoying song is stuck in my head, playing over and over. I fall asleep watching TV because it keeps me focused and my thoughts quiet enough for me to doze off.
I realized how quiet things in my head were as I lay there. I was able to enjoy the soft music playing, not in my head but in the room. I wasn't sure how much time had passed before Mason came back in the room. I think I could have lain there for hours.
Removing the needles was easy and not uncomfortable at all. I purchased some ginseng to help give me energy and went on my way.
I'll be going back for more. I'm still new to acupuncture but I can definitely see some benefits. To learn more about the Minnesota Clinic of Integrated Medicine visit www.mnacupuncture.com.
Matchmaker, matchmaker make me a match
Lakeshore Weekly February 2011
Personally I love trying to bring people together, whether it is as friends or for more romantic reasons.
I'm an aspiring matchmaker, a hopeless romantic who wants other people to experience the kind of relationship I have.
I'm lucky to be married to a man who lets me be who I am. One who knows I like to push the envelope sometimes, who knows I will often color outside the lines and that I consider "30 minute parking only" signs to be a suggestion not a rule.
My husband and I share the belief that real love is unconditional. He will love me and I will love him regardless of our shortcomings or occasional disagreements.
The love I feel for my friends falls into the same unconditional category.
There have been several occasions where I have worked to bring together a man and a woman who I hoped would hit it off and live happily ever after.
In my fantasy they toast me at their wedding and name their first born after me. That has yet to happen. Where have I been going wrong as a matchmaker?
After exploring the world of K & D Confidential I now have some insight into where I have fallen short in my matchmaking skills.
K & D Confidential is a personal matchmaking service to help you find a mate not a date.
Owners Kim Smith and Deb Schield personally interview each client and potential match, along with having them do an extensive questionnaire designed not just to determine what they are looking for, but what they need to do to get it.
The experience, skill and drive that K & D Confidential employs to find one a life partner is impressive.
I've been with my husband since before Internet dating became popular, but I've heard many horror stories about it from my friends.
Because Smith and Schield personally interview every client and potential match, they avoid many of the pitfalls that online dating sites offer.
If you are a woman meeting a man who described himself as a 6-foot, 3-inch athletic, blonde Adonis, you can be sure that you won't be meeting a 5-foot, 6-inch hairy troll who looks like he never met a donut he didn't like.
I've tried to set up friends and have failed. I understand now that part of that is because though I may love my friend and all of her quirks, her date may find those same traits annoying. I'm not necessarily seeing the needs of both parties clearly.
"Be the person you are trying to attract" was the advice from Schield that she shares with her clients. That is such a good point that many overlook.
If you are a man and you want to be with a fit, compassionate, go-getter, then you had better be going to a gym yourself, getting in touch with your feminine side by watching a few episodes of Oprah and stop waiting for life to happen.
Not being the person they want to attract is an issue I've seen when I've tried to set up friends.
Too may times I hear how a woman wants someone else to make her feel a certain way.
A relationship isn't like going to a spa, you don't just lie there and expect someone else to be responsible for your enjoyment.
A relationship is like sailing a boat around the world together with no crew. It is up to each of you to make things happen and navigate the reefs and shoals.
I still have a desire to bring people together, but for my friends who are serious about finding a mate I'm sending them to K & D Confidential. You can find out more about them atwww.kdconfidential.com
A Winning Combination
Lakeshore Weekly January 2011
Many want to lose weight, quit smoking or take up a new hobby.
Last year I resolved to lose 30 pounds and I did. I lost and gained 10 pounds three times. I guess I should have been more specific.
Last January I decided I was going to do more traveling in 2010, which I did by traveling more than 17,000 miles.
As I pondered what I wanted to do or change in the New Year I realized I wanted to find more ways to combine the things I love.
Toward the end of 2010 I discovered that I didn't hate cooking after all. I hated cleaning up the mess.
I started new menu Mondays, where I learned to cook a new dish each week. After I presented my masterpiece to the family I had my girls clean up the mess and my problem was solved.
As a result of my increased culinary skills I had guests over for dinner. Combining my new delight in cooking with time with friends was a winner.
Looking forward into 2011 there are two things that popped into my head right away as far as New Year's resolutions go.
First off, it goes without saying that I still need to lose the 30 pounds. Only this time my resolution is to lose 30 pounds and keep it off throughout the year.
The second thing is I want to volunteer more in my community.
Recently I found a way to combine both. I attended a fundraiser for the ICA Food Shelf at BayView Event Center.
Excelsior recently became the home to a satellite office for the food shelf. Before the Excelsior location opened there was a two week wait at the ICA's Minnetonka location for families who needed food.
Opening the Excelsior location on Oak Street brought that wait down to two days.
The need for services from the ICA Food Shelf has increased more than 60 percent since 2008 in our area. I've since signed up as a volunteer at the Excelsior location.
About the same time I started seeing Dr. Kelly Knewtson at Knewtson Health Group just down the street from the ICA location in Excelsior.
Knewtson Health Group is launching a Biggest Loser Weight Loss Challenge starting Jan. 17 and going through April 11.
Knewtson will provide weekly weigh-ins, accountability and support to participants for free.
Participants just need to bring a bag of non-perishable food items into Knewtson for the ICA Food Shelf when they sign up.
To benefit the ICA even more, participants are encouraged to seek out sponsors who will donate money to the ICA Food Shelf based on how much weight the participant loses.
For example you could get a friend to pledge $1 or $5 per pound of weight that you lose during the challenge. All of the money raised and food collected goes to the ICA Food Shelf.
As if that weren't enough, participants also get a free one-week pass to Fitness19, and there are prizes for the biggest losers in the challenge.
This is a great way to get healthy while giving back to our community.
I wanted to take it a step further by also volunteering at the food shelf.
The time I spent at the food shelf really opened my eyes.
The families that came live in our community. My job was to pack up fresh fruit and vegetables for each family, based on the size of the family.
Along with half a dozen other volunteers I dug through boxes of bananas trying to pick out the freshest looking ones, counted out apples and bagged potatoes.
Each time I filled a bag I couldn't help but picture the families that would be eating this food.
It really brought home to me how much the services offered by ICA are needed.
My combination of weight loss and community service is well underway.
Anyone can sign up for the Knewtson Biggest Loser Weight Loss Challenge to benefit the ICA Food Shelf by visiting www.khealth group.com.
If losing weight and getting healthy is on your to-do list this year, I hope you will join me in achieving that goal while giving back to our community.
As Children Grow Up, a New Dog Fills a Void
Lakeshore Weekly December 2010
It's not that I don't like animals, though I will admit I am not a cat lover.
I have an 11-year-old, 130 pound Chesapeake Bay retriever named Dexter that I adore.
He looks at my mom's 4 pound Chihuahua like she is a snack.
When my mother asked me to dog sit her Chihuahua I did it to help her out, but I did refuse her request to wrap the dog in a blanket like a baby and rock her to sleep for her 3 p.m. nap.
I teased my mom and others who dressed up their little dogs and then paraded them around town like they were the second coming.
But this last year has been an interesting one for me.
Two of my kids are now adults and my 12-year-old won't let me hug or kiss him in public.
I've been feeling like something is missing. The last thing I wanted was another baby. After 20 years of being a mom I was just starting to enjoy not needing to scramble for a babysitter.
Working from home can sometimes make for a lonely day. Dexter is with me but as a senior citizen he spends 95 percent of his day sleeping or complaining. It's been years since he has tried to attack the mailman.
I started thinking that it might be nice to have a younger dog that was a companion.
Maybe even a smaller dog that would get us off the post office's vicious dog list.
About a month ago I came across the photo of a Maltese puppy for sale and I just melted. As it was when I first met my husband, I wanted to smother him with hugs and kisses. I got in my car within the hour and went to visit the breeder and meet the puppy.
By the end of the day I was home with Loki, who we named after the Norse God of mischief.
Little did we know how much he would live up to that name. The second he was in my arms I started to morph into the dog owner I always mocked.
My TiVo is no longer filled only with episodes of the "Real Housewives," but also with episodes of "The Dog Whisperer."
My beauty budget has gone to clothes and grooming for Loki. Instead of getting my eyebrows waxed I'm getting my dog blueberry facials. I've passed on happy hour with the girls for an evening of freezing my butt off in the backyard while chanting "Potty outside, potty outside."
No one was more shocked than me by my transformation. It's like being a new parent all over again.
Instead of looking for tips to handle a constipated baby I'm asking my Facebook friends for tips on how to stop Loki from eating his own poop.
On the day we had our first snowstorm of the season Loki wasn't concerned with shoveling a driveway.
He took off running through the fresh powder, rolling around in it. While I watched him I forgot about the driveway myself.
When my recycling overflowed onto the kitchen floor Loki wasn't mad at the child who hadn't taken it out yet.
He spent the next 20 minutes chasing around an empty 7-Up bottle, and I took the time to watch him and laugh at his adorable antics.
Loki has reminded me about the joys that can be found in the simple things.
He is a handful to take care of. While writing this I had to stop to recover a book he was tearing up, rescue him from the trash where he was stuck upside down in and chase him around the living room to get him to spit out a piece of poop he had in his mouth.
Part of what makes it all worth it is that Loki doesn't care if I'm in my sweatpants or am behind on coloring my gray. He loves me unconditionally and takes me the way I am.
It's only right I accept him for the book eating, fecal munching furry snowball that he is.
It's only fitting that Loki has a faux fur hooded parka and collection of turtleneck sweaters. I have to go now. It's time for a bedtime song before Loki's nap.
Learning How to Mind
My Manners
Lakeshore WeeklyNovember 2010
Violation of any of these usually resulted in anything from a stern talking to a kick in the butt, especially if I called my sister stupid.
When I was a child getting kicked in the butt seemed fairly rude, so I was left a bit confused about proper etiquette and manners. This is what I was pondering when I contacted Marilyn Pentel, the CEO of Mannerly Manners.
Pentel has been educating children and adults on the use of proper etiquette for more than a decade. She has created her own curriculum, which teachers can use to educate their students on the subject. Additionally she holds workshops and classes for children and adults. She works with adults on etiquette in the corporate world and for day-to-day life.
I was fairly confident that Pentel wouldn't kick me in the butt if I violated a point of etiquette.
I immediately felt comfortable and at ease with her, which made sense when I learned her three simple rules. They are help others to feel comfortable, help others to feel comfortable and help others to feel comfortable.
If each of us did only that I can see how much of a better place the world would be.
Pentel said that what she teaches is mostly common sense. In a world where you can't turn on your television without watching someone butcher the English language or commit social suicide through bad behavior, it seems to me that common sense is becoming less and less common.
Pentel's method of teaching etiquette is interactive, with visual aids and hands-on application of the rules of manners.
I particularly enjoyed my lesson on introductions and handshakes. Being from Hawaii my concept of personal space is much different from that of someone who is from the Midwest.
The difference being that in Hawaii we kiss on the cheek and hug as an initial greeting. It is also more common for someone like myself to be more open about my life.
My skeletons are on display in my walk-in closet open to the public. I've never been big on personal space, but living where I do it's about time I learned a bit about what is considered acceptable personal space.
I may have no problem discussing with a new acquaintance the antics from my recent family reunion back home in Hawaii, and how my 50-year-old uncle seduces women young enough to be his daughter, but I now realize it may not help that stranger to feel comfortable if I insist on hearing about her first sexual exploit.
"The worst manner is to make someone feel bad," said Pentel.
I began to understand that although the rules of manners are important - we should all use please, thank you and close our mouths when eating - what is more important is the person in front of you.
I've known individuals with the most impeccable table manners whose table I could not wait to leave because they were so unpleasant.
I've also been with friends who didn't know which fork to use during dinner that I loved being with because they were so compassionate and kind.
Pentel has a gift when it comes to teaching. She teaches the value of what it is she is sharing.
When a child, or adult for that matter, understands the value of doing something a certain way, they are more likely to do it that way.
Manners are not just what I better do or my mom will kick me in the butt; manners are what I use to get along with others and to succeed in life.
We can all improve when it comes to helping others to feel more comfortable.
I've started using some of Pentel's tips and methods with my children. I'm even getting my son to sit up straight and not fidget during an introduction. It is well worth your time to visit www.mannerlymanners.com and acquaint yourself with Pentel and what she has to offer.
Ghost Hunting in Excelsior
Lakeshore Weekly Ocbober 2010
Walking through downtown Excelsior you expect to find fabulous shopping, delicious food and familiar friends. What you may not expect is a paranormal experience.
After hearing about a few possible hauntings in Excelsior I assembled a "crack team" of ghost hunters and hit the pavement to investigate.
By "crack team" I mean a few of my friends who have watched several episodes of Ghost Hunters. Armed with headlamps and open minds we set off one evening in search of what may go bump in the night.
Our first stop was Lillian's on Second Street. Kerry Hochstein is a co-owner of Lillian's and also one of my ghost hunting buddies. We gathered in her store and she told us about what happened one Sunday afternoon. She and her business partner Linda were standing in their store having a conversation when a purse went flying off of a hook across the room. A little while later, a different purse took flight by itself. Both women were not sure what to think about this, but neither wants to be in the store alone at night.
I believe it was a ghost that caused the purses to go flying. At least it was a ghost with a good fashion sense. If I was a ghost in Excelsior I would spend my time in a store like Lillian's.
Next we ventured to Pantoufs on Water Street and met with owner Kevin Benson. Benson treated us to some delicious chocolate and told us about the mystery of the bell and footsteps. Since Pantoufs opened last year, four or five times a day Benson and his wife have heard their bell on their door go off, often accompanied by the sounds of footsteps yet no one was there. At least no one they could see.
The Bensons have gone through three different types of bells on the door, but the same thing keeps happening. They have tried to find an explanation other than a ghost, but have come up with nothing that explains this phenomenon. The Bensons have figured out that it seems to happen mostly between 3 and 4 p.m.
Who could fault a ghost with a taste for chocolate? The Bensons feel that it may be the ghost of Mr. Jimmy who passed away a few years ago. Mr. Jimmy was known to come into that location to visit a printer some years before it was Pantoufs and around the 3-4 p.m. hour.
No ghost hunting evening is complete without a respectful stroll through the local cemetery.
I must admit at first I was dead set on not getting out of the car. I've seen many horror movies and getting out of the car is usually the wrong thing to do.
Once we were out of the car we realized that it was actually quite peaceful among the former living. My crack team of ghost hunters didn't see or hear anything out of the ordinary.
I can't say the same about when we went into the building that houses Marty Chiropractic on Second Street. We really weren't looking for anything in that building, we were just walking through it on our way to somewhere else.
It was at night and we were the only ones in the building, yet behind us we heard the creaking of footsteps twice.
I can't help but wonder who or what may be walking the streets of Excelsior, yet remaining unseen. It is a community that is more than 150 years old and is rich in history.
Lillian's and Pantoufs are not the only businesses that have experienced questionable paranormal activity.
One thing is for sure and that is the unseen are among us and have made their presence known.
It doesn't seem to matter if it is in the light of day or the dark of night. Excelsior, like many older towns, has its own ghosts. Remember that when you ride the Boo Trolley this month.
A New September Tradition
Lakeshore Weekly September 2010
It means I turn another year older and will spend a few more minutes plucking the new crop of gray hairs from my head.
Mostly September is that month when I, along with moms everywhere, breathe a collective sigh of relief as we embrace the three most celebrated words in the mom language - back to school.
My routine of years past involves a Target run as soon as the school supplies lists hits my mailbox.
I happily hum to myself as I toss the needed items into my cart, exchanging smiles and knowing nods with the other mothers as we pass each other in aisles filled with glue sticks and pencil cases.
We are a sorority of breeders anxious to reclaim our caves of solitude once our cubs hop on that school bus.
After purchasing the needed supplies I spend the evening enjoying a nice glass of red wine while labeling the supplies, packing backpacks, giddy with the knowledge that freedom is around the corner.
This has been my ritual for close to half of my life.
This back-to-school season has had a few twists and turns in it for me.
My oldest daughter Shelby started community college, my middle daughter Kelsey is a senior at Minnetonka High School and my son Jared is starting sixth grade.
Recently I went on my first college visit with Kelsey. Sitting in a room with other parents and their college hopefuls, I sat through a 45-minute presentation before going on a tour.
Having never been on a college visit or to college myself I wasn't sure what to expect.
I've been to kindergarten round-ups, school open houses and freshmen orientation at the high school, but no college visits.
Our tour was led by a young upper classman. I couldn't remember his name so I called him "Senior."
Because I'm bad with names I tend to give people names I can remember. I've had four different Schwan's delivery guys, but I insisted on calling them all Brad, after my first Schwan's guy.
They understand and don't seem to mind too much.
The families in our group touring campus were from all over Minnesota. Included in our group was one of those moms who believes she is still in high school and everything is still a competition.
I won't say where she is from, but let's just call her "Barbie Mom."
During our tour, we were taken on a hike up a few hundred steps outside.
At the halfway point Senior let us stop and sit on some benches for a few minutes to take in the beauty of the nature that surrounded us and to catch our breath.
After a few minutes Senior said, "Well if we have all caught our breath we can get going again."
Perky Barbie Mom, who never sat down, piped up with "I never lost it."
I made the obligatory eye roll, along with the mom next to me, and continued on our way, still out of breath myself.
Later on the tour Barbie Mom asked me where my older daughter goes to school.
When I told her she goes to Normandale Community College her response was that she has a friend whose kid goes there because they don't have any money.
Barbie Mom's antics aside, the tour was informative and I only mortified my daughter once.
I asked Senior what the rules were on boys going into female dorm rooms.
We had a brief conversation about it, which left me feeling very uneasy and my daughter feeling "totally embarrassed."
My routine for back to school has changed some, and may change a bit more in the years to come.
Until then I'm still enjoying my back-to-school ritual, my daytime solitude and even the occasional Barbie Mom.
The Strength of the Matter
Lakeshore Weekly August 2010
My Culligan water bottles were getting heavier and I was finding myself handing over jars to my husband to open more often than not.
There was a time when I prided myself on how strong I was, even for a girl.
I could beat some grown men at leg wrestling. The opportunity for leg wrestling has presented itself more than once during my adulthood. It's really not that unusual. In sixth grade I knocked out a boy who dared to lift up my skirt.
When did I become such a weakling? Probably somewhere between forgetting where the gym was and becoming the first Excelsior resident to eat one of everything at Patisserie Margo. That is a title I hold with pride and I'm still waiting for the owner to put my plaque up.
Bob Miller of Miller Essential Fitness in Wayzata came to my rescue. Miller has been a personal trainer for more than 20 years, developing custom fitness and diet programs to help people such as myself.
Right off the bat I liked that he wasn't a 20-year-old hard body fresh out of training who was going to spend our time acting like a cheerleader on steroids, while attempting to sell me his latest multi-level marketing vitamin product.
Miller is a hard body all right, but one with 20 plus years of experience. He isn't some fly by night "I'm working as a personal training while I write my screenplay" kind of trainer. Helping to strengthen and tone individuals is what he does.
Dragging my friend Tina along with me I worked with Miller two times a week for several weeks in his Wayzata gym.
We used free weights quite a bit, working toward being able to lift more and more. After close to an hour of working out I could hardly pick myself off the floor. I knew it was a good workout if I wanted to puke at the end.
After a few weeks I noticed my long lost friend, the shoulder muscle, making an appearance. I was so thrilled I showed it to anyone who stood still long enough to hear about it. I'd twist my shoulder in just the right way, under just the right lighting, and lo and behold the rebirth of muscular definition in my body was present.
I wasn't ready to enter a fitness competition but I was opening my own jars again and lugging in my Culligan water bottles with the vigor of a sailor on shore leave.
After about a month I realized that I needed to be more consistent with eating healthy. Sure, Miller had been telling me that twice a week for a month, but one day I finally realized that he was right.
With better eating and workouts with Miller I dropped 10 pounds and gained strength and definition that I had not seen in awhile.
Eating your weight in baked goods from Patisserie Margo tends to cultivate a more voluptuously doughy physique. Miller showed me how I could still have the occasional chocolate croissant without looking like Carnie Wilson pre-gastric bypass.
Normally I hate working out but I started looking forward to strength training with Miller.
He knew just how far I could go with the weights, always pushing me past what I thought I could do, but never beyond what I was capable of. That kind of skill comes from his years of experience on his part.
I still have a ways to go to get in great shape, but at least now I know my way around weight lifting equipment, and I'm ready once again to knock out the next guy that tries to lift my skirt up.
A Windy Day for Kayaking
Lakeshore Weekly July 2010
I've battled the rain in a canoe on the St. Croix River, in search of an elusive large turtle that my sister claimed to have once seen.
I've surfed on the north shore of Oahu, though I spent more time falling off the board than I did standing on it. I've jet skied in Aruba, but I've never tried kayaking.
Luckily for me Tommy's Tonka Trolley at the Port of Excelsior began renting kayaks this summer.
On a sunny but windy Thursday, my husband Brad and I rented a two-person kayak.
We brought along my sister Lana who rented a single and was joined by her Chihuahua, Biggie, also a first time kayaker.
Tommy's Tonka Trolley has everything you need to kayak. It provides the kayak, life jackets and paddles.
They also have water resistant containers for purchase, which will keep your camera or cell phone dry. As a bonus when you are done, you can enjoy a delicious hot dog and some ice cream at the trolley.
Tommy himself launched us in our kayaks from his special kayak dock, which is at the same level in the water as your kayak. This makes it easier to get in and out of the kayak for those of us who may be prone to falling in the water.
Tommy pointed out that because it was a windy day, we should keep close to shore in Excelsior Bay and St. Albans Bay.
Having a kayak for two was very romantic. Best of all, my husband did most of the paddling.
I was freed up to take in the beautiful scenery and periodically yell at my sister to get off her phone.
Tommy sure was right about it being windy. I felt the daunting wind and white caps added to our adventure on the lake.
Brad, who was doing most of the paddling, had a different outlook on what nature was throwing at us.
We managed to make it into St. Albans Bay where conditions were calmer without capsizing or losing Biggie to a carnivorous Northern Pike, if there is such a thing.
Gliding on top of the water, with my hair blowing in the wind, I was reminded of the 1995 Disney classic "Pocahontas."
My favorite part of the movie is when Pocahontas is canoeing down a river while singing "Just Around the River Bend." Of course you know what came next. I broke into song!
"To be safe we lose our chance of ever knowing. What's around the river bend. Waiting just around the river bend."
I was hoping to get a little sing along going with Lana, but when I looked over she was on her phone.
At this point we had left St. Albans Bay and were back in more challenging territory.
As Brad and I headed back to the dock, Lana and Biggie were drifting farther and farther out into the lake because she had stopped paddling while on her phone.
Once I was back on land I couldn't see them anymore. I took off running down the shoreline prepared for a water rescue, which meant I kept my life jacket on.
I hoped I wasn't going to have call 911 and explain how my sister and her Chihuahua needed to be rescued. Lana doesn't have the greatest upper body strength, and with the wind I wasn't sure if she could make it to shore.
As I rounded the bend by the baseball field there was Lana dragging the kayak out of the water. Biggie was beside her and happy to be back on dry land.
The wind took them around the point where Lana was close enough to the shore to make it on her own. After she tossed Biggie to safety on the rocks she was able to get herself and the kayak safely back on land.
With yet another adventure under our belt we carried the kayak back to the trolley.
I had a great time and would do it again in a heartbeat, but on a less windy day. For more information on Tommy's Tonka Trolley and kayak rentals visit www.tonkatrolley.com.
Graduating With Honors
Lakeshore Weekly June 2010
The final test I had to take was my dreaded math test. As I've mentioned earlier, facing and tackling math was my Mount Everest.
I arrived on time for testing the morning of the math test. They have you arrive 45 minutes early so you have time for test instructions and a video about the calculator you will use.
While I was waiting to get started the woman next to me was being told she couldn't take her tests because she didn't have her ID with her.
She took the bus to get there and didn't have time to take the bus home and back before testing started. If she didn't test that day she wouldn't finish in time for the graduation ceremony.
I offered to drive her home to get her ID so she could still test, as by car it wasn't that far and we could both be back before the actual testing started.
Of course we hit every red light on the way to her house and arrived back just in time to start testing.
I was sweaty and out of breath after running from the car back to the building and up three flights of stairs. To make it worse I had to use the bathroom, but once testing starts you can't leave the room.
It was not the most ideal circumstances to take that math test under.
I was sweaty, out of breath and praying that I didn't sneeze before I could make it to the bathroom, which would be an hour and a half later when the test was over. Luckily I made it through without incident.
A few days later I received the results in the mail informing me that I passed the math test and would be receiving my GED. I scored in the 90th percentile on all the tests combined.
On graduation night I was sitting with my fellow graduates untangling my hair from the tassel that was hanging from my cap.
The tassel kept getting in my mouth each time I turned my head, something I was hoping would not happen onstage when I went up to accept my diploma.
It was then that it hit me that I was finally graduating. Even if it was 22 years after I should have. I wasn't too nervous about walking on stage as my Mrs. Excelsior experience made me more relaxed about things like that.
I figured if I could prance around stage wearing a hideous leotard, while being judged, I could walk across a stage and accept a diploma.
Recently I was a guest on WCCO radio on both the John Hines and Michele Tafoya shows.
We talked about my experience in going back to school at 39. Getting my GED has been on my "to do" list longer than anything else, and I wanted to make it happen before I turned 40 in September.
I had also written in my column that I wanted to lose 20 pounds by Memorial Day. Tafoya asked me if I had met that goal, and I had to fess up that I had only lost 6 pounds at that point, but had recently gotten some help. I've started working with trainer Bob Miller at Miller Essential Fitness in Wayzata. My new goal is to lose 20 pounds by my 40th birthday in September.
When I turned 30 I made a list of some things I wanted to do before I turned 40. In revisiting that list today, I've realized how many of those things I've done.
I think there is something to be said for naming what it is you want. I've gotten my GED, visited London and Paris, though Italy is still on my list.
I've gone to a movie by myself, and I've eaten in a restaurant alone. I faced my fear of heights by going up in a plane that sat four, and I forgave my biological father.
There are a few more items that I have scheduled to do before my 40th birthday in September so that I can cross them off my list.
I want to do things like kayaking, getting pampered at a 5-star resort with my husband, taking a road trip, and of course losing 20 pounds. These should be done by the time I turn 40 in September.
I have a few others left that I don't have worked out yet, which may have to carry forward to my "to do before I turn 50" list: go to Italy and spend a night alone in my house, to name just a few.
Lakeshore Weekly - May 2010
By Natalie Hagemo
My recent voyage into the land of learning has opened my eyes to possibilities that I once would not have dared to embrace.
One of these is in the area of cooking. I've been able to do enough in the kitchen to get by and keep my family from starving, but I'm no Julia Child.
Something I love but have never made is sushi. My love affair with sushi started when I was a child growing up in Hawaii.
My great-grandma used to send us grandkids diving for a certain kind of seaweed that she would eat right out of the ocean.
I have memories of her feeding me raw fish and poi with her fingers while saying "Kau Kau," which means food, meal or eat in my native tongue.
While I don't miss those chunky fingers being shoved into my mouth, I do miss grandma.
It is my opinion as a Hawaiian and a lover of sushi that Yumi's in Excelsior is the best sushi restaurant in the Twin Cities.
I could eat there every single day. Good sushi becomes a habit, and my habit was becoming costly. I thought to myself, "Why not learn how to make sushi myself?"
I decided to have friends over for a "How to Make Sushi" party.
Twin Cities Chef Nick Schneider, of Café Brenda fame, provides personal chef services and also does private cooking lessons.
His prices are reasonable and his culinary skill would put many on the Food Network to shame.
Twelve of my friends came over to learn the basics of sushi making. Chef Nick brought the ingredients and detailed written instructions.
Additionally he made the most succulent dip I have ever had called Miso Patte. I'm still hounding him for that recipe.
We quickly learned that making sushi is an art form, which is experienced through multiple senses.
You can look at a painting, using your eyes to appreciate the fine details and meaning, but with sushi you are enveloped by the smell of fresh seafood, while your eyes take in the mix of colors and you feel the texture of the seaweed commingling with the rice.
The final enjoyment is the explosion of taste as your mouth melts around this delightful masterpiece. That for me is sushi.
Chef Nick did a thorough job of going over sushi basics. As you may know, cooking comes about as naturally to me as surfing would to an Eskimo.
Though my guests appeared to be tracking along and delicately rolling their nori, I was lost after "wash the rice three times."
After the instruction on all that went into properly preparing the rice I determined that I was just going to have to pick up more work to pay for my Yumi's sushi habit.
My respect for the art of sushi making has tripled. I see how it takes a highly trained professional to truly do it right. I will do another cooking party with Chef Nick, but most likely on the order of "How to prepare in-season vegetables."
Chef Nick (ns.schneider@mac.com) is available for private parties or cooking lessons.
I stepped outside of my cooking comfort zone. I admit that isn't hard for me to do as my comfort zone in regard to cooking is a small one.
I'd like to encourage you to learn something new, maybe something you have always wanted to try but haven't. I would love to hear about it.
Lakeshore Weekly - April 2010
By Natalie Hagemo
Trying to wrap my head around mathematics would have been much easier 25 years ago when I wasn't also working, raising three kids, volunteering, trying to get my obese arthritic dog to lose weight, having date nights with the hubby and attempting to stay on top of endless amounts of housework.
I've been going to my GED classes for about two months now through the Adult Options in Education program in Hopkins.
Math is my main focus and the hurdle standing between me and getting my GED. Fractions, algebra and percents were not my friends in high school when I dropped out.
Trying to reacquaint myself with them 25 years later has been a bit of a challenge
Luckily I have a lot of support. My husband has been kicking me out of bed and pushing me out the door on the mornings that I don't want to go to class.
My teenagers have been helping me with homework and breaking things down for me when I just don't get it.
Jeannie runs the GED classes and is a huge help and has amazing patience. She is good at translating math into a language I understand and that is the language of shoes.
"If a pair of sling backs are $85 and you have a coupon for $10, plus there is an in-store special for 15 percent off, how much are the shoes?"
The GED test is broken down into five subjects, which you can test on independent of one another. Jeannie made me take the first three, and I mean made me, as I was scared to do it. I was nervous and suffering from test anxiety, but she knew I was ready to start testing.
A few weeks ago I took and passed the first three tests. I'm happy to report that I scored a 99 percent in social studies, 98 percent in reading and 88 percent in science. I have to admit I was surprised by how excited I was about this. I keep my test scores next to my bed and can't help but smile every time I think about them.
Going through this process of getting my GED has become so much more than just wrapping up high school.
I've been doing a fair amount of reflecting on my past, especially the time period when I dropped out of school.
I can't change what happened, but I sure do have a say in what will happen from here.
There was a time in my life when I thought I had to accept my circumstances I mistakenly believed that I was defined by my father's drug abuse, or defined by what other people told me I should or shouldn't be based on their own agenda.
As an adult I had people come into my life who saw what I was capable of, even before I knew what those capabilities were.
I had friends who pushed me to look at my future, instead of limiting myself to my past. They are the friends who believed I could do just about anything I set my mind to. Having people who believed in me, who have stood by me, has made all the difference in my life.
After a while I saw in myself what they saw and started standing on my own two feet.
I don't think we ever outgrow the need for mentors, who really are cheerleaders. A kind word of encouragement, a smile, a hand on a shoulder, those are small acts that add up to a big difference.
I still have two tests to go. One is on writing, which I'm scheduled to take in a few weeks. In May I'll hopefully be ready for the math test. Once I pass that math test I'll be able to walk the stage on June 2 in full cap and gown at the Hopkins Center for the Arts, finishing something I gave up on over 20 years ago.
Lakeshore Weekly - March 2010
By Natalie Hagemo
For 24 years I have kept a secret that has been known to few people in my life. It has been something that I've been embarrassed about. I haven't lied about it, but I haven't volunteered the information either.
For more than two decades I've been telling myself that I was going to do something about it, but my fear that people would think less of me if they found out stopped me from dealing with it.
I creatively navigated through the obstacles it presented throughout my life and have led a productive, mostly successful life.
I, Natalie Hagemo, wife, mother, writer and former beauty queen, am a high school dropout.
At 15, I made the decision to not return to high school. The circumstances of how and why I chose that turn in the road is a long story. It would be easy to blame someone else or the environment I lived in at the time, but ultimately it was my decision.
Recently I revisited my "bucket list," my list of quirky and not so quirky things I want to experience before I die.
I took a look at what had been on my list the longest, what I have been meaning to do but hadn't yet done. God willing my death is decades away, but because I turn 40 this year I wanted to cross some things off the list.
Two things stuck out at me that I really wanted to do before I turn 40 in September.
The first was losing my 20 pounds of winter weight from two winters ago.
The second was getting my GED.
I've been working out recently and my goal is to lose the 20 pounds by Memorial Day. If you see me with a cookie, smack it out of my hand.
Getting my GED has been on my list for 24 years. Minnetonka and Hopkins offers a GED program through the Adult Options in Education program at Eisenhower Community Center. After doing an assessment test I registered for the lab style GED classes.
It wasn't a surprise to me that math was the subject that I needed the most help in. In doing the assessment section on fractions I realized that a big part of why I didn't cook was because the fractions in recipes confused me. If it weren't for the ready-to-cook meals that Byerly's creates at its meat counter, my family would be living on cereal and Spam.
Knowing that math was what I was going to be focusing on, I went to a bookstore to get a workbook I could use at home to help me along.
Standing in front of the GED books, I could see a high school kid and his dad looking at the college prep books to my right. I'd like to say I wasn't embarrassed to be seen buying GED workbooks at my age, but I was. I tucked my GED book under my arm and quickly headed to the check out.
I wasn't sure what to expect when I started the classes. Would I be the oldest one there?
What I did know was that I wanted to learn not only how I could use this new found knowledge from here on out, but how it could have helped me throughout my life.
I've often said that not having my GED didn't make a difference in my life. Learning what I have learned so far, I now know I was wrong.
Sometimes you don't realize what you are missing until you have it.
If you were born with blurry vision you might think that was just how the world looked. You could live a decent life and be very happy. Then one day someone gives you a pair of glasses, and you see the world clearly for the first time. Only then do you realize what you were missing.
Each day that I go to my class things in the world become a little less blurry. The other day I followed a recipe and made coconut muffins from scratch. That may not be a big deal to some, but for me and my pleasantly surprised family it was a step on a road I once abandoned.
The staff at Adult Education is helpful and supportive. I'm doing my best to complete the program so that I can participate in the cap and gown graduation ceremony in June. Right now fractions are making me crazy, but I'm getting a lot of help from my kids.
Lakeshore Weekly February 2010
By Natalie Hagemo
Pictured: Volunteer Brian Woolsey and Natalie Hagemo
As someone who works from home, I spend a great deal of time in my pajamas, as I often start work before I get dressed.
Next thing I know I'm finding myself awkwardly, and probably unnecessarily, trying to explain to the UPS man in the afternoon that I didn't just get up, but that I have in fact been working since 9 a.m.
When I found out about the second annual Ultimate Pajama Party produced by Tammy Hauser Sarto of The Idea Factory, my interest was piqued.
The event is described at www.theultimatepajamaparty.com as, "A slumber party themed event for girlfriends filled with pampering, nibbling, dancing, cocktails, shopping, lounging, laughing and letting your hair down!" These are all things I fully support and partake in. The best part was I could do all of this in my pajamas, which was a major bonus.
My sister Lana and I packed our PJs, an overnight bag and checked-in to the Westin in Edina. We took advantage of the special hotel room rate offered for partygoers who wanted to spend the night at the hotel, where the event was being held.
Heading into the party donning my pink PJs with flannel bottoms, made complete by my monkey house slippers, I was ready to let my hair down and have some fun. Lana and I headed into the VIP area where I enjoyed a signature Pink Slipper martini while snacking on appetizers.
Momento Images had a bedroom session photo shoot set up and participants were encouraged to have their photo taken.
It didn't take much arm-twisting to get me to jump onto that bed and have my picture taken with four very handsome gentlemen also in their PJs but wearing crowns.
Brian Woolsey was one of the handsome crown-wearing men. He, along with the others, were volunteering their time to raise money for the Junior League of Minneapolis and its charities. A portion of the profits of the Ultimate Pajama Party also benefitted the non-profit. I came to learn a date with Woolsey and the others was auctioned off as part of the fund-raiser. Having fun while helping a worthy cause is always a great combination.
Woolsey, I learned, was no stranger to community involvement and volunteerism. About 100 volunteers contributed to the success of the evening.
After spending time in the Psychic Den with a pet psychic and getting a tarot card reading, which confirmed that I was indeed married to a fabulous man, I settled in the spa room.
Women sipping cocktails and chatting with their girlfriends were enjoying massages, manicures and getting their hair done. It was Nirvana for me.
Did you know that while sitting in a massage chair you can still sip a cocktail through the hole they have you put your face in? It takes a steady hand, but it can be done.
Later in the evening local recording artists Belladiva took the stage, and I swear they sang every one of my favorite songs. For me the highlight of the evening was dancing in a sea of girlfriends, laughing, singing and having a great time - all in our PJs. It truly was the Ultimate Pajama Party.
It made me realize how much I missed the feeling of sisterhood that the slumber parties of my youth provided.
But this was like no slumber party I ever had as a teenager. There was no drama or tears over boys, plus we had a signature cocktail. It was an evening full of making new friends, doing some shopping, getting pampered and throwing caution to the wind by jumping on stage for a dancing contest, which, by the way, my sister took second place in.
There is no doubt that I will be at the third annual Ultimate Pajama Party next year, and will do my best to get all of my girlfriends there too. In the meantime I have a year to work on my dance moves. If you visit the Ultimate Pajama Party's Web site and see the video snippet of that night's shenanigans you will know why I may be doing an upcoming column on taking dance lessons.
Lakeshore Weekly January 2010
By Natalie Hagemo
Living truthfully under imaginary circumstances is how acting coach Lev Mailer defined acting to me during an acting lesson with him at his Edina home.
Mailer has spent more than 35 years as an actor in theater, television and film in Hollywood and New York. He's worked with greats like Clint Eastwood and even Lucille Ball during his lengthy career. It's worth a visit to his Web site at www.levmailer.com to gain a full appreciation of the depth of his experiences and what he has to offer as an acting coach.
Now before you come to the conclusion that I'm throwing my hat into the ring of actors and am about to take Hollywood by storm, let me put your mind at ease.
My interest in taking acting lessons was to gain more of an understanding of why people enter the world of acting and if that world had a place for me.
Secretly I've wished that life was more like a musical, where I could break into song while at Target and others would follow, dancing along with me while I belted out a melody about the broken wheel on my cart.
In my experience people tend to shy away from such public displays of what I consider artistic self-expression.
I was next to a guy on a treadmill not long ago who was humming along to the song playing over the sound system. I turned to him and started singing the song, hoping we could get a little duet action going to break the monotony of our workout.
Instead, he looked at me nervously and switched machines. What is the world coming to when you can't even sing a duet with a total stranger in public?
Working with Mailer I learned a series of exercises, which I also practiced at home.
Their purpose is to get me to use and tune my instrument, which as an actor is my body, mind and soul.
I quickly learned that true acting does indeed take discipline and dedication.
Mailer pointed out that doing these exercises would train one to become less self-conscious and more comfortable with doing things that would make most feel stupid.
I think he quickly learned I was not born with the gene that causes one to feel embarrassed about being silly or stupid; it's where I'm comfortable.
Working with Mailer a student learns not just the technique of acting but also how to audition and what steps to take to start working as a paid actor. I had no idea how many opportunities there were for this here in Minnesota.
I'm by no means ready for the world of acting, but I have learned that my love of musicals and my propensity to break into song at the drop of a hat does lay the groundwork for the possibility of being an actor. If nothing else it would serve as a creative outlet for my more eccentric side.
The art of "living truthfully under imaginary circumstances" is something I think we could all do to one degree or another in our day to day lives. Children are a great example of this. Most kids live in a world full of adventure and promise, a world where a simple hole in the snow becomes a castle to be defended, where a stick is now a magic sword for which to slay a dragon.
Actors do this on the big screen and we pay to see it, we experience it vicariously. Well why not follow the lead of a child and bring a touch of imagination into our own lives?
Of course too much of a good thing will land you in a straight jacket, but maybe seeing the mundane with a hint of imagination is good for you. Actors get paid to do just that. Before reality becomes reality it is only part of someone's imagination.
So if you are sweating away on a treadmill and the person next to you starts singing, indulge in a little imaginary circumstance and belt it out. Better yet start the singing yourself. Who knows, you might even enjoy it.
Lakeshore Weekly December 2009
By Natalie Hagemo
If you are a child of the '80s like me, you have seen "The Breakfast Club" with Molly Ringwald more than once.
In the movie the mismatched high school kids in detention are supposed to write an essay about who they think they are for the principal.
At the end of the movie, a letter, signed by the The Breakfast Club, states something like, "You see us as you want to see us, in the simplest terms, in the most convenient definitions. You see us as a brain, an athlete, a basket case, princess and a criminal."
Finding a place to fit in and being labeled doesn't stop in high school.
There are as many cliques in my adult world as there were in high school. I never seem to fit fully into any one world.
I visited the world of fit women who workout, but I got eye rolls when I committed the sin of wearing two different colored socks. This was only compounded by wearing sweatpants, not cute yoga pants.
I spent some time in the land of parent volunteers but got sneered at when I suggested we have our meetings over cocktails.
I took a tour through the land of the band parent but stopped receiving phone calls when I said, "My daughter joined band, not me, so I'm not going to sit out in the cold through an entire sporting event I have no interest in, just to catch a glimpse of her. But sign me up for two of the band performance DVDs."
From time to time I've let my lack of fitting in stop me from trying certain things.
One of those was Pilates. I've wanted to try it for some time but couldn't commit to matching socks and I didn't own yoga pants.
Recently I found my own "Breakfast Club" at a place called Mother's Day in Chanhassen.
Before you mistakenly think it's a detention center for mothers, let me clarify.
It is a place that offers exercise classes and workshops on organic food prep, journaling or scrapbooking, as well as a host of other subjects.
It's a comfortable, beautiful place for all women, even for the fashionably challenged, sports hating cocktail lovers.
I started taking the Monday morning Pilates class and knew right away I was in the right place.
Due to the small class size I was able to get the one-on-one help I needed to properly do the workout.
Not only that, but I felt welcomed and there was no judging.
Week after week I came back, each time improving in my Pilates movement. I wasn't perfect but I improved, which was all that was expected of me.
Tara, the instructor, didn't roll her eyes when I couldn't reach my toes. The other ladies didn't sneer because I thought "downward dog" was something out of the Kama Sutra and not a Pilates pose. I was able to be myself and get stronger.
I learned that Pilates isn't just about wearing cute workout clothes and having flat abs.
It's about building strength, and not manish Serena Williams-type strength either, but a more lean Jennifer Lopez-type strength.
It's about gaining flexibility and even height. It's about learning to use your breath to help strengthen your core muscles. Pilates has become something that I enjoy doing, and I'm all for getting a little taller.
What makes these classes special for me is the environment in which they are delivered.
Mother's Day is a place where women of all types can go to nurture themselves, take some time for themselves, pursue an interest and mostly fit in.
Everyone is welcome even if you are, in part, a brain, an athlete, a basket case, a princess or a criminal. OK, maybe not so much a criminal, but you get the point.
Lakeshore Weekly November 2009
By Natalie Hagemo
Car maintenance is about as interesting to me as shopping is to my husband Brad. Put that man in a mall for 10 minutes and he acts like his fingernails are being torn off slowly, while being forced to listen to the Jonas Brothers.
Brad has been pushing me to become more educated about basic vehicle maintenance.
Now why would I need to do that? Isn't that what I have a husband, mechanic and neighbors for? I felt my bases were covered. When he tried to say I was probably "too girly to understand it anyways" I made an appointment with my mechanic and told my husband, "Oh it's on!"
Yes I'm more comfortable holding a hair dryer instead of a gas pump nozzle, and I've been known to bat my eyelashes to get help replenishing my wiper fluid at a gas station, but no one calls me too girly. I'll leg wrestle you right now to prove it.
I begrudgingly paid a visit to Tom Aldridge, owner of Dale Feste Auto in Hopkins, where my family has been getting their vehicles serviced for more than 17 years.
Aldridge has tried for years to get me to become more independent when it comes to understanding my vehicle, and he was more than happy to help me out.
After pulling my car into one of the service bays we popped the hood (something I know how to do) so Aldridge could show me how to check my oil and other fluids. He also explained why oil is so important. It had never even occurred to me to question why the oil was needed.
When Aldridge started explaining to me that the engine oil lubricates the moving parts of the engine while taking away shavings and impurities, I found my attention drifting to where I might be having lunch that day.
Then a light bulb went off when he was talking about how the filter clogs and needs to be changed.
I started to relate what he was telling me to something I did understand: skin care.
Like an oil filter, my skin gets clogged up if I don't exfoliate, thereby stopping my face toner and lotions from working properly.
I pay good money for Botox and my face products to slow the aging process. A vehicle is also a big investment. Aldridge said checking your oil once a month is one of the most important and simple things you can do for your vehicle to slow its aging process.
My daily skin care products are environmentally friendly, so when Aldridge told me that Dale Feste Auto recycles all of its fluids, including oil and filters brought in by his customers, I was thrilled.
Dale Feste goes as far as to use recycled paper towels instead of cloth to avoid having to use harsh chemicals to wash out the grease that would only end up in the sewers.
We went through the engine and covered how to check for belt cracks, battery corrosion and how to check and replenish other fluids, including washer wiper fluid.
By this point I couldn't have been more interested had I been at a MAC makeup counter. I was into it and tracking along.
By the time we got to tire pressure I was enthusiastically going around to each tire checking the air pressure myself.
Everything Aldridge went over with me are things everyone needs to know, men and women.
I'm much more comfortable under my own hood now. Just the other day I not only checked my own oil but added antifreeze and wiper fluid. Most impressively, I did it in heels.
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 October 2009
By Natalie Hagemo
When I regained consciousness, I was slumped over a table. Moments before I was chatting with classmates during our alumni charter boat cruise on Lake Minnetonka.
The pain to the right side of my face was unbearable. Looking at my surroundings I saw bloodied bodies strewn about the upper deck, some unconscious and others awake and as dazed as me.
Now this didn't really happen. I was playing the role of a trauma victim in a mass casualty incident drill on Lake Minnetonka. The drill involved a mock crash between a speedboat driven by a drunken driver and a charter boat.
More than 200 emergency responders from several neighboring communities were involved in the drill hosted by the Excelsior Fire District in partnership with many agencies, including Paradise Charters.
My day started at 6:30 a.m. with about 30 other victims. We were briefed on what was expected of us and what each of our injuries was to be. I was happy to hear that I was not in the group that had to be rescued from the water.
Most of us had makeup applied to simulate our injuries. Some of the leg gashes and arm injuries were quite realistic. The right side of my face was made to look bruised, and my instructions were to wader aimlessly and repeat myself to the emergency responders. So I prepared to channel my grandma after a few cocktails.
Once on the charter boat we were put into position and waited for the emergency responders to arrive. It was surreal seeing bodies strewn about, some bleeding with obvious injuries. We could hear the sirens off in the distance as help started to arrive by boat.
While being examined by someone from the Hennepin County Sheriff's Office I did my best to repeat myself and act confused. The responder who examined me determined I was in good enough shape to help with those who were more injured. My job became to apply pressure to the leg wound of a fellow passenger.
During the drill I tried to react like I thought I would if it were actually happening. I realized that helping someone else in a situation like that was greatly beneficial, not just to other victims but to me. Though my head was supposed to be hurting and I was suppose to be dizzy, having to help someone worse off made me focus. Other walking-wounded were put to work helping those more injured.
I was impressed with how quickly the responders triaged the area and started helping. Though this was a drill, the responders from multiple agencies gelled together as one team to evacuate the boat and get us all safely to shore and on to the hospital.
When I arrived at the dock in a rescue boat I was helped out and to shore by Excelsior firefighter Peggy Cox. Her son was sitting next to me on the charter boat during the mock crash. Had this been real, Cox would be on duty helping the survivors, not knowing her son's condition.
It hit me just how hard that would be, but I knew that Cox and the other responders who may be in that same situation would do their job no matter what. In that moment I truly appreciated what these people did.
Seeing them in action from my perspective not only gave me a new level of respect for what these men and women do but has also given me an improved sense of security, just knowing that they are there.
From now on I won't sigh in annoyance while hitting my brake when I see a police officer on the side of the road. I will be going the speed limit to begin with, of course, but I will give them an appreciative smile as I cruise by.
Lakeshore Weekly September 2009
By Natalie Hagemo
Pictured: Natalie with two of the amazing staff from Ridgeview Season's Medical Spa
It can come in handy to be able to blame a character defect on a hormone imbalance.
Two years ago when I developed a hyperactive thyroid condition, which can cause aggressive behavior and a bad attitude, you might say I also developed temporary diarrhea of the mouth. I made Cruella De Vil look like a pleasant person.
My poor husband was left with two options after any disagreement with me - he could be right or he could be happy. He usually chose the latter and apologized for what I saw as his shortcomings, real or imagined.
Interestingly, after I got the treatment to handle the overproduction of hormones that my thyroid was putting out, I calmed right down. Maybe it's more accurate to say I got back to what is calm for me. Maybe there was something to balancing hormones?
Fast-forward two years and here I am about to turn 39. For me the last year of my 30s is as significant as turning 40 and entering a new decade.
Turning 39 is like a pit stop 250 miles into the Indy 500. Instead of a tire change I get Botox and when I need to recharge my battery I leave town to let my hair down.
In other words, I figure now is the time to make any mechanical adjustments to make sure I continue on with the next half of the race strong.
Because I want my next 39 years to be as good, if not better than the last, I need a pit crew that knows what to fix and how to fix it.
Since being treated for an overactive thyroid I've learned more about how hormone imbalances can adversely affect someone, especially women.
I started seeing Dr. Melinda Morgan at Americare Chiropractic Wellness Center in Minnetonka.
Morgan is a master of Nutritional Response Testing and specializes in managing weight through hormone balancing.
When I first met with Morgan she explained to me that her goal is to balance my hormones through proper diet and the whole food supplements my body needs so it functions as it should. When your body has what it needs it can function at peak performance resulting in weight loss, increased energy and a whole host of other benefits. Once she said weight loss I quit listening, as that's all I needed to hear.
After I read over my custom plan the line "No artificial sweeteners" jumped out at me. After letting out an audible gasp, I verified with her what she meant by this.
To my horror it meant no Diet Coke, no more Splenda or anything with a chemical sugar substitute. Stevia, agava or raw honey were OK.
Now this for me was a big deal as I loved my Diet Coke and Splenda in my iced tea, but I was willing to give it a week and see if it made a difference.
Apparently aspartame has a negative effect on the human body. I'd heard this before but never was willing to give it up.
The hardest thing for me with any diet is overcoming my insatiable cravings for baked goods and chocolate. Morgan said cravings are hormone driven, so if you balance the hormones, you can handle those kinds of cravings.
During my first week I followed my eating plan, took my whole food supplements and did stay away from aspartame.
I was amazed to discover that my usual craving for baked goods was greatly diminished, making it easy to follow her fat burning diet and way of eating.
After one week and losing six pounds I went back to Morgan and told her she had my attention.
She re-tested me to make sure my supplement doses were correct and we went over my food journal that I had been keeping for the week.
Since starting her program, for the first time I'm not obsessing over why I should or shouldn't have carrot cake. It's easy to follow, and I eat out several times a week. The increased energy is a bonus also.
I'm so impressed with what Morgan can do I've made her not just a member of my pit crew but my crew chief. I have no doubt that she will help me keep those mechanical issues in check so as not to slow me down as I continue to race around the track.
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
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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”.
