During my youth, I hated exercising. School kids called me “Bhudda Baby.” They made fun of my chubby stomach bouncing up and down as I attempted to jog. I cried when I got home from school and dreamed about one day climbing the rope, and running to the finish line, like all my peers. It wasn’t until my early twenties that I decided to change that.

In 1983, at age 25, I left Europe to start my new life in southern California. I finally plucked up the courage to step inside a gym. It seemed like everyone knew what they were doing except me. I tried an aerobics class but the California fit girls intimidated me.

The free weight room seemed equally foreign. I tried my best to blend in but had no clue. I left frustrated.

The first American guy I dated said, “You’re cute, but you’d be look better if you firmed up your body.” I dumped him and later met Duke, my husband. He showed me how to use weights, and after 26 years, we still work out together. I like to brag that my workout is more intense than his. We even take separate cars as I stay longer. If you ask Duke, he’ll say it’s because I like to talk to people. I do like to talk, but I need to rest between sets, so why not exercise my mouth too.

My husband took this photo of me when I was 47.

The other day, my son who’s back from college for a week asked me, “Mom, how old are you?”
“Fifty-two.”
“And how much can you bench?”
“135 pounds. Used to be 145, but I’m getting weaker with age.”
“You know the state record for your age is 88 pounds. You could beat that.”

He got me thinking. Lately, my workouts haven’t been focused or intense. I’ve been slacking off, even skipping days and saying to myself, “that’s OK, I’m getting older.”

Now Austin has motivated me to try harder by e-mailing some organization that “his mother can bench 135 pounds.”

I did some research and found this video of an 85-year-old woman bench pressing. If she can do it, so can I. My goal is to bench press until I die, just as I gave birth to my three sons at the gym–well almost–I plan on working out until my last day on our beautiful planet.

Perhaps I can promote my book while bench pressing–just a thought: another media gimmick.

When I turned 44, I sent in a video to become a contestant for the “Survivor” show on TV. In order to grab their attention, I bench pressed my youngest son. He was eight-years-old at the time. Another gimmick which, unfortunately, did not work.

I’d like to know if anyone has motivated you or if have you motivated someone else to do something? Whether a hobby, exercising, dieting, scuba diving, sky diving, etc.

Dolphins and sea grape trees remind me of Belize. You can eat the grapes.

I’m forcing myself to get back in the swing of life, when all I want is to recapture the peace and, “I don’t care a damn” attitude I had in Florida.

I know what you’re thinking. “Sonia, you were on vacation, everyone on vacation feels euphoric. There’s no stress, no obligations. You stroll along the beach, pick shells and wonder if you could string them together into a souvenir necklace, drink Mai Tai’s by the pool, and even your heart starts to smile.”

Sharing stories with people from other parts of the U.S. and the world, is like an energy boost. You learn that everyone strives for the same: a comfortable and safe life. No matter what our nationality, or where we live, we all want our kids to succeed and to know that we shall be able to take care of ourselves financially, today and in the future.

I cherish the times my sons interact with the youth from other states or countries. Jordan, 15, met two sisters from Holland, one 14, the other 16. Those girls spoke fluent English–most Europeans do–and as a mother, it was so refreshing to see young girls enthusiastic about their education and their careers. I often see a different picture in my Orange County, bubble.

I have a problem though. I fall in love with new places and become obsessed. It’s almost like falling in love with a person; I want to tell everyone. I think it’s due to my lack of ROOTS.

People and their stories fascinate me. I love to learn about different cultures, food and lifestyles, yet the more people I meet, the more I realize we all have the same fears. Even the nice couple we met from Holland stated what I’ve been thinking, “You never know if you or your loved one will get cancer, or end up in a wheelchair. You need to enjoy life today.”

Which is why I enjoy my new house in Naples. Just Kidding!

So I shall continue enjoying my life and dream about moving to Florida where there are islands inhabited by middle-aged writers and artists.

Places like Matlacha Island to the right.

Friendly, down-to-earth people.
Some famous authors live here, like Janet Evanovich on Sanibel Island and Randy Wayne White on Pine Island.
An abundance of great restaurants with the best seafood.

Sanibel Island, the sea shell capital of the world, even has a world famous sea-shell museum.

Just in case you didn’t know this, humidity makes your skin feel soft. Even Duke’s skin turned baby butt soft.

How long does it take you to get back in a routine after a vacation?

Beautiful beaches in Naples.

It all started during my first peek out the window as we descended to Fort Myers airport. My skin moistened in anticipation of the tropical environment; meandering rivers,lush green vegetation, gray bulbous clouds, and healthy mangroves. Had I finally found a more developed version of Belize?

I’ve landed in many airports around the world, but Fort Myers was a complete shock: wide open freshly polished marble floors, and live palm trees in bright glass enclosed hallways, reminding me of the lobby at the Ritz Carlton. A stop in the ladies room felt like I’d stepped back in time. I found eight sisters I never knew I had; same height, same age and same skin color. I’d forgotten what it felt like to be surrounded by people who smiled, made eye contact, and weren’t in a hurry.

I met my first blogger friend, Nancy in Naples, Florida. She sent me information about the Naples area before we visited, and is an ex-California resident. We had a wonderful two hour chat over a glass of wine at my hotel in Naples. Nancy gave me a beautiful photograph she took of birds on the beach. She loves photography and is very talented.

Why Florida? My husband, Duke and I love change, and are always seeking our “ideal” destination. We are beach people, and prefer tropical climates to four seasons with snow.

Happy couple on the beach.

California’s Pacific ocean is very cold, and unless you wear a wet-suit, love surfing or come from Scandinavia, you won’t be floating on the Pacific ocean.

California has become overly crowded, and the freeways in Orange County and Los Angeles are always gridlocked, in desperate need of repair.

Now the Gulf of Mexico is very warm, about 80-85F, and shallow for quite a ways out. The only thing you need to learn is the stingray shuffle: a dance move that protects your feet from being stung by a stingray.
We practiced the move, but never encountered a stingray, although a couple of dolphins swam within thirty feet from us.

I have so many things to share with you, that I have to break into other posts. For example:

The crazy things I saw and did:

I danced with a very talented singer, who happened to be a dwarf, and he kissed me. Duke sang karaoke, and I petted my first hairless cat and asked the owner if he put sunblock on its skin.

Have you ever considered moving to a place after spending 9 days there?
Did you ever follow through with the move?

Photo of Naples Marina, Florida, taken by seamermate on Photobucket. Our next vacation spot.

Since returning from our year in Belize in 2005, it seems that every vacation turns into a research project on where to relocate.

My friends have quit asking, “Why do you want to move away from southern California? We have the best weather, beaches, mountains, Disneyland and more.” So I ask myself why would I want to move? Perhaps you can help me?

During our first year back, Duke and I researched Albuquerque, New Mexico. Housing looked affordable, but the suburbs were too flat and desert-like for me. Also my gut told me this place is a little depressing.

People rave about the artsy town of Santa Fe, New Mexico, and Sedona, Arizona, and there again, it was pretty, but not for me. I felt landlocked.

The following summer, we flew to Fort Lauderdale, Florida, and spent a long weekend visiting Daytona Beach and driving along the Atlantic coast. The Atlantic was too cold and gray–yes, I’ve been spoiled by the nice turquoise Caribbean.

With hours, if not days spent on the Internet looking at places like Chapel Hill, North Carolina, Port Townsend, Washington, Austin, Texas and now Matlacha Island, Florida, I could have written a thesis by now.

This time, we’re leaving for Fort Myers, Florida, on the Gulf of Mexico side, not the Atlantic side. If you don’t hear from me by September 7th, please check the hurricanes in that area.

I want to thank Tink and Nancy for their numerous e-mails on the Fort Myers and Naples area. They have been very helpful, since one relocated from New York, and the other from San Francisco area. Both love Florida.

Do you want to relocate? If so why and where?

SOME NEWS FOR BLOGGER FRIENDS WHO ARE WRITERS SINCE I WON’T BE HERE FOR A WHILE.

My friend Shirley, who has the marvelous blog 100 memoirs posted some very helpful blogs on reading challenges and blog carnivals, which I think many of you may want to check out.

I met Jerry Simmons at a writers meeting and he’s an expert on the publishing business, having 25 years experience with Random House, and the former Time Warner Book Group. He has a fantastic website for writers, and is more than happy to help all of us. Please visit WriterReaders.

Sorry if I did not respond to your comments on my guest post on Blogging’BoutBoys. Jennifer is on vacation and I haven’t seen all of your comments. I hope to respond when I get them.