To Unconditional Love Oneself

Unconditionally being the key word, and this seeming to be the goal. Years ago after getting sober I had to learn to love myself. I had absolutely no conception of what that meant. I had spent the best part of the 10 years prior, hurting myself. Taking my anger out on me, blaming myself, and metaphorically & literally ripping myself apart. I was my own worst enemy, and anyone who knew me could tell you that. The thoughts in my head were killing me, and I was killing myself.  It's been over 5 years since I got sober. I sit here today the healthiest I've ever been, on all levels. I have spent more time in a gym the last 4 years than most people will probably every spend in their lives, and I'm not so sure that's even an exaggeration. I've spent the last 9 months pushing my body physically like I never have before. Extensive weight training, 3x a week and cardio at different times. Working chest/biceps, legs, & back and triceps like clock work each week. Maxing, sometimes failing, & always pushing. If I ever wanted to take some sort of weight lifting championship title, or break any records, now would be the opportune time to do so. I train with a world power-lifting champion who holds a world record which is absolutely no exaggeration. But yet, I find myself here. A similar place I have been a few times. That still & quiet space of knowing that what you are doing, isn't necessary anymore. Not that it's not working, it just isn't needed. God has a different plan. There is always that smidge of sadness, The kind of sadness that comes with goodbye's, the good goodbye's. The goodbye's that are sending you off into a new phase of your life, a new door you've yet to walk through. I have fought this feeling for months, I've fought my partner for months. But something inside of me has shifted, and I've spent the last few weeks watching my body finally give way to what my soul has been trying to tell me. I've went down in almost every weight for the last few weeks, and haven't made any PR's since October. It's not been for lack of effort either. I've eaten my protein, got plenty of sleep, drank my pre-workouts, pushed my body to failure, and yet still found myself in this place of quiet knowing. There is always a choice, and sure I could choose to continue to push my body how I've been pushing it and allow my ego to wear it's little self out. Because that's what happens. If God speaks and I don't listen, He will allow me to wear my happy little self out until the choice is beyond my control, or everything in my life shifts to accompany me down a path which will most likely bring me right back to where I started. To unconditionally love myself is to listen to myself. To love myself even when I'm not doing the things my ego thinks I should be. To trust. To have a little faith. I have fought with my partner more about my power-lifting activities than I have any other subject. Defiantly exclaiming I loved it, and who was she for trying to take that away from me? I've "loved" a lot of things that weren't true expressions of loving myself. I loved booze and smoking and food... and a few other things that were preventing me from truly loving myself, unconditionally. I asked myself if working out the way I have been was showing myself love. Was it really good for me? I couldn't honestly answer yes. Yoga, absolutely, I do yoga because it's good for me, because I love myself. Cardio? Yes, I do that too because it's good for me and helps me be a better version of myself. Power-lifting? Not so much. I do that because I love it, because it does something for my ego. Not only that... I eat often eat foods that I don't really want, that my body doesn't really want so I can support my workout routine. Foods that are very heavy, and don't support my highest good, like lots of meat... I don't really like a lot of meat, so why am I eating it? To support my working out? That's doing what for me? Protecting my sensitive, soft side? Pulling me so much into the physical because I'm always in pain that I cannot connect to Spirit as easily? An honest self-appraisal says it's just another addiction, although healthier than previous ones, that has served its purpose. The time to move on has come... to love myself a little more deeply, more unconditionally. To be a little gentler with my delicate self. And as sad as that makes me to say aloud, I know deep down it's true.

Grace & Gratitude...

Find What You Love & Let It Kill You

"Patience is not about how long one can wait, but how well one behaves while waiting."

There's something sweet about tonight. Quiet. I read lots of things about patience today. Or should I say, lots of things about patience seemed to find their way to me? Not sure why, I don't feel particularly impatient. Maybe it was in preparation. Regina Spektor in the background brings a slight smile to my face.
         A few months back I wrote a blog about the thoughts of an aspiring power-lifter. I'll be the first to say it wasn't one of my best, or even close for that matter. Probably because, I found it easier to come out as a gay women then I did to confess my passion for weight lifting outside of my close night circle of gym buddies. Even now, I hold myself back a bit. Why? Because so many people don't understand why I do what I do. Why so many of us do what we do. I've been asked why I'm punishing myself. Been told my back and joints are going to give me big issues for the rest of my life, and that there was no way I lifted the weight I did. I've been told my calves are too big, that I'm going to hurt myself. I've been told I spend too much time in the gym and asked what pain I'm still working through. I think about lifting weights all the time. Just tonight I was laying in bed and thinking of squat day tomorrow. Wondering about what would be the best breakfast for me to eat to support leg day but not slow me down or even worse make me want to throw up with 300+ lbs on my back. I replayed the days events in the gym, about how I say others work out, conversations I had and advice that had been given to me without my asking for it. Was it useful information for me? My trainer is out of town, was I going to ask the guy sitting behind the desk who I find a little over the top to spot me? Or was I going to not max and just do 4 sets of 6 @ an 80% effort. Would that be too much? How much weight would that be anyways? 
      I LOVE THIS SHIT. Maybe my quote at the top should have been, "Find what you love & let it kill you." My confessions are these.... I love the way my arms look, my legs look, my neckline looks. I love breaking PR's, I love failing... it gives me something to think about; it makes me want to push harder. I'm always flexing in front of the mirror, and the gym is like my second home. I find it relaxing and grounding, and I go even on days when I don't want too. I'm sore everyday. If I'm not, I didn't work hard enough the day before. I love the way iron plates sound clanging together and coming off & on the bar. I admire people who push themselves mentally & physically to their own limits, willingly. I like tough people. People who don't take shit, and will tell you how it is. People who will look you in the eye and make reality hard to ignore because they know it will make you a better person, even if you don't like it. I've had amazing teachers, each very different, each exactly what I needed. I'm a lifer. This is my recovery. I've been doing this consistently for over 4 years with an 8 month exception after moving to Saint johns, because Snap & B-Strong just weren't working for me. I wear my gym t-shirts proudly. They get hung up, not folded. This is a tangible and visual result of change, starting from the inside. No, I've not reached my goal weight, and yes I eat too many calories sometimes, and some days McDonald's doesn't sound too fucking bad. But I keep moving forward. I take full responsibility for my decisions and don't let them stop me from taking my ass to the gym the next day. I have cheat days. When I'm home alone I watch youtube weight lifting videos and look up raw power-lifting records. I love following pages like "Gym Freaks" on Facebook. I enjoy being surrounded by people who love this sport as much as I do. My trainer told me last week she had embroidery done on her dress she was taking to Prague with her for the WPC world's championship... on the front it was barbell's wrapped like a DNA strand and on the back it said, "...it's in my blood." Then a woman that goes to the gym I used to go to before I moved said, "How about: Don't sit on your fat ass eating McDonald's and tubs of ice cream and then get mad when someone else has the body you wish you had. Eat less, move more. Go to the gym. Eat a f&@king salad. Pass on second breakfast. If you eat a whole bag of peanut butter cups worth 620 calories, get your ass on a airdyne and feel what it takes to burn 620 calories. Drink more water. Time to take that harsh pill called reality. Your excuses are invalid." How about fuck yeah? People like this continue to inspire me. People like this remind me there is nothing wrong with being in the gym 5 days a week, waking up sore every morning, and moving around more weight that most men. But these are the things, I'm hesitant to admit. As if there is something wrong with me because I love it this much. Because it brings out the best in me. Sure, it will wear on my body, but so will sitting on the fucking couch and eating whatever the fuck I want.... I'd rather go out in the gym with a bar in my hand.


With Grace & Gratitude...

My Own Responsibility

"Judge and prepare to be judged."

I wish I would have counted the times I've heard that over the last 3-4 days. Obviously something Spirit would like me to work on. I'm guilty. I judge others. I compare myself to others. Maybe its my competitive nature. Maybe it something I should stop doing. Although, the line isn't saying that judging is a bad thing, it's just saying I had better be prepared for the same sentiment. Which, I'm not so sure I am. I can handle the truth. I can handle people's verbalized opinions. What I do tend to struggle with is my wildly overactive imagination that tells me all the things they probably are thinking, but are most likely, not. I worry what other people think about me and what I'm doing. Guess I could have saved myself 7 lines or so and just said that, but then it wouldn't be much of a blog then would it?

The beginning of June I changed my fitness goals. Signing up for my first power-lifting competition in September, the goal became to "see how much weight we could put on me." And I have, although I'm definitely the strongest I've ever been. My goals are changing after the competition. I'm ready to start slimming down again. More cardio, less muscle building. More of a muscle maintaining. The plan is to keep my lifts heavy three times a week, and after lifting it is my own responsibility to work through a cross-fit type routine. My current trainer doesn't do cross-fit, and up until this year, that's pretty much all I did. I have 3 years of cross-fit training experience. So guess what? The universe is a gracious and loyal teacher. It is up to me to come up with or find cross-fit workouts and execute them on my own, without a trainer standing beside me holding my hand, telling me what to do and taking the pressure of myself. They've never been my workouts, someone else has always put them together for me. I've always had someone else to whine to, to give dirty looks too, to help me combat the internal dialogue that tries to convince it's okay to slow down, or extend that rest for 15 seconds or "change the routine" halfway through because it's "too hard." A trainer has always provided for me a sense of confidence in myself that I've had difficulty finding on my own in the gym. Something tells me that has to do with trusting myself  & integrity. I'm nervous. There's fear. A sense of vulnerability. A lack of confidence in myself to come up with my own workouts, that beginners trail & error which will test my patience, my dedication, and my endurance.  But what growth is there in refusing to change? None. Fuck.

So either I can stop judging those people in the gym, that are in there doing what I only wish I had the courage to do at the moment OR I can step up and take full responsibility for my workouts and do something I don't mind people judging. It's my choice, and it's about where I'm choosing to focus my energies. By not judging them I free myself from the fear of being judged which allows me a new courage to take that first step in doing what I know I need to do.


With Grace & Gratitude...

Confessions of an Aspiring Power-lifter

I say confession because my love of power-lifting isn't something I really express to people outside of those who I train with in the gym. Burkey knows. Tracy is finding out. My girlfriend & a few others may have a pretty good idea. It's not something I feel comfortable showing to many people, people who don't get it. People who have never had there hands wrapped around that bar and pushed themselves to the limits few will. I fucking love it. I love everything about it. I lay in bed at night and wonder what my PR's are now. how the training I've been doing with Tracy (who is a pro power-lifter) is preparing me for the next phase of my journey, and replay the days workout in my head... what could I have done differently? Could I have pushed myself more? Did I work smart? Am I satisfied with where I'm at?  What was my diet like today?  I touch the calluses on my hands in admiration, a sense of pride. I admire hard work. I admire people who don't give up even when it hurts, when they want to, when everyone around them is telling them it's okay to give up. I love training. I've been training for almost 4 years now, for nothing more than the ability to do a pull up, loose some weight, be able to pull myself over the walls at the warrior dash. I've trained really hard for seemingly small things, lol. When I'm entirely honest with myself, let's face it... I just like to train. Any excuse will do for me, I like to life heavy things, I like to be strong. I love to push myself to the limits. It strengthens me on all levels. It grounds me and teaches me about life, about how I react to life. It. Makes. Me. Happy.

Power-lifting just seems like the next logical step...

Are You Fucking Kidding Me!?

I read an article about a week ago in Shape Magazine that has since rolled around in my head picking at my muse... "How one woman overcomes tragedy and creates the life she's always wanted." 

I thought, INSPIRATION! I love stories of inspiration, who doesn't?! There's something beautiful & gracious about overcoming adversities, about determination & sacrifice. I was quickly disappointed to discover the article, wasn't in fact about any of that. It was about "combo-pilling" which means taking two different kinds of "fat-burners" or diet pills. Specifically Zantrex-3 and Relacore, and was suggest by her personal trainer! I shook my head. What is this telling people? My immediate thoughts consisted of what a shitty trainer, her heart is going to explode, she didn't overcome ANYTHING nor did she create anything, it was created for her. No deep rooted issues were addressed, there was no sacrifice, She will be right back where she started in only in worse health and more frustrated. I saw a giving up. I saw weakness. I saw another fat American claim that life was too hard, and it promoted by a source that I look to, (among others) for ideas to stay healthy and fit safely. To say I was disappointed, doesn't even cover it. So there, there's my rant.

Home Again, Home Again Jigitty Jig

"You need to find your own purpose, I cannot build desire."

I've found my gym. I knew it the moment I saw that quote. I walked around it today slowly, purposefully. It was that same "home" feeling I got when I found my yoga studio here in the Lansing area. Like I could breathe again.  I felt humbled, and grateful and tearful. There's something about privately owned and run gyms that inspire me. When flat screen TV's don't cover the walls, pretty things aren't the focus. The basics are there, in working condition. Nothing to distract you from the work it takes to reach your goals. A dusty radio in the corner with an ipod/phone hook-up that looks like it might work, a drop box for payments if you want to buy something, and cardio equipment that has definitely already seen it's best days. There's something demanding of rows of free weights, racks of barbells, and a room specifically designed and dedicated to maxing out, to creating your personal record (at-least that's the way it appeared). I stood the longest in that room. You could feel the pride, the dedication, the excitement. I felt relief. I was inspired to be on that board. Motivated to prove myself to someone who didn't know me through my actions instead of talking a lot of shit about the things "I used to do" before I moved to Lansing. I've lost a little bit of my cockiness as it pertains to the gym and training; 25lbs will do that too you. I miss lifting really heavy things. I didn't do much today. I got my ass on three treadmills before I found one I didn't think was going to throw me off because I just wanted to take it all in. I wanted to bathe myself in this place, a place which was already mimicking some of the things I value most in training. Grateful doesn't begin to describe what I felt in that moment. I saw a no bullshit attitude. I saw hard work and I saw trust. I saw me at 180lbs.

PS- Maybe the universe was trying to tell me something as it was continuously denying my access to the old gym... smh

With Grace & Gratitude

Mad Enough To Act

"If I get denied access to the gym one more fucking time today I'm gonna scream!!!"

My text to B Murphy in my midnight rage. One of the few people who A) would be up this late, B) Have any idea what I was even talking about, and C) would have some ability to relate. I was pissed. This was the third day in a row I was denied access to the gym because my debit card was changed. I MADE sure to get a hold of the office before it closed today so I could take my ass in there tonight, and yet again... a split second green flash followed by a long drawn out red flash escorted by an undeniable, wretched beep. If there had been a computer beep translator there, I'm certain it would have said... "DENIED. Go home Ms. Hollingsworth, be thankful you passed on the cinnamon roll and garlic chicken. Be proud for asking the waitress to take away the cracker bowel before you un-conscious consumed all of them simply because they were there and might wanna take your ass to yoga tomorrow." Yes. That's how long that beep was, and exactly what it said to me.

I thought today about anger and pain (mostly anger) and how I have used both to push me my entire life, to achieve my goals and what to do now that neither are a driving force. I decided I was pissed, and I was okay with that. Because maybe I had finally gotten to the point where I was mad enough to do something. Because the whole "be easy on yourself" was getting me heavier. As I walked in my front door tonight inspired and angered, already writing my blog in my mind the word complacency popped into my head. Complacency; defined as, "self-satisfaction especially when accompanied by unawareness of actual dangers or deficiencies." When we loose our conscious awareness of the dangers lurking when we stop doing what we're doing. I had become complacent. I was taken back to my days in recovery when the alcoholics would end up drinking again because they became complacent and stopped going to meetings and working the steps. When I hit my -100 lbs a year ago February, I became complacent. On some level, I felt I had achieved my goal, I went easier on myself. I could feel myself more whole because of the work I had done in that gym. I've slowly watched myself gain over 20lbs since last year this time. The jeans I almost gave away because they were too big, are snug again, a vicious reminder of where I was and where I am now. For months I've allowed people to tell me it's alright. It's okay that I've gained a little weight, I still look great and I'm happy. My girlfriend still finds me insanely attractive and was "honestly, happy [I] gained a little weight."  Who the FUCK am I kidding? Who cares what they think. This was never for them anyway! This has always been for me. Anyone else's opinions of what I do in the gym and why I do it are irrelevant. I am done listening to people tell me that I work out too hard, I push myself too much, I'm too hard on my body. For the first time, I saw myself at my goal weight, I saw how solid I looked. Before I couldn't see it, I relied on other's belief in me, I relied on their vision of what I could do to give me the faith I needed to keep me going day after day. I had to trust what they saw, because I couldn't see it, yet. If there's one thing I've learned over the last year is that to comprise one's needs is a denial of the self. I need that gym; I need to push myself physically, mentally, and emotionally. My body, mind, and spirit need clean, wholesome foods. Why? Because that is the safest thing to date that I've found that keeps me grounded, centered, and balance. I love it. It's empowering, it's liberating, and allots me a freedom that few other things can and connects me to my most truest self. I will not live a boring life. That's not who I am nor what I was born to do. I live my life in a way to connect and inspire others...it seems anger and passion burn from the same flame with only a slight variation in color.

With Grace & Gratitude...

Almost Angry

I spent the first 3 years of my weight loss burning more calories a week than most humans consume.  (okay, maybe that's slightly exaggerated, but I really liked that line! it was around 3-5 thousand calories...) and weight loss was easy. I ate whatever I wanted as long as it was "worth it." I would equate in my had what it would feel like to burn that many calories and eat it if I was willing to work it off. Well, things have changed. And yes, of course I did learn to stop when I was full, learn how to make better choices, and eat more consciously, but the universe had been trying to tell me since February that it was seriously time to look at my diet, and not expect my workout routines to always be enough to burn what I still allowed myself to over eat. So when I moved in May and left my gym, my yoga studio, my trainer, and fell in love... I watched myself steadily gain about 4-8lbs a month. At this very moment,  I'm sitting at 238lbs, I was 214 the last time I stepped on the scale at Anytime Fitness in Roseville, MI. There's always a lesson, our weight has a story, and what I learned from mine is that it's really time I take charge and train myself, I know what I'm doing, I wasn't admitting I didn't like my job, and my old workout/eating plans no longer worked for me. Attempting to recreate them here was exhausting and didn't feel right. I was a different person and needed to focus on my diet more. I needed to put more time and energy into eating a more fresh fruit/veggie organic diet that I had come to crave. The frozen Kashi meals only work for so long. I was sharing my daily life with another person, and had to take them into account. It was time to create a workout routine on my own and go execute it, and I'm doing all that, slowly and steadily just like I did when I first started and it took all I had to get up before noon and walk to the end of the road and back.

Pay Attention. Know Thyself

Pay attention. Know thyself.

How easy it is to read over those words and somewhere inside of yourself know the magnitude of which doing those things can change your life, but choosing not to do them. I'm certain it's rarely a conscious decision. Who DOESN'T say they want a good life? Happiness? Joy? Freedom? We all do. Some of us, just work harder for it than others. Some of us just aren't willing right now to put forth the effort required. Some are too afraid to face that which hides beneath the facades of who we think we are. Some of us don't work at all. I work at it. Many people work at it. Diligently, methodically. I encourage others to do the same. To know thyself. To know your personality. To know how to use every single aspect of who you are to achieve your goals, your dreams.

Allegory. I thought of that word as I was working through some yoga poses to loosen up my spine this morning for my Sunday training session with Burkey. I asked him in a half-sleep haze to do my least favorite workout in the world. The one that makes me want to lay on my stomach like a small child and pound my fists on the ground. The one that quickly induces a "I don't give a fuck anymore" attitude. The workout that makes quitting seem totally acceptable. I asked for that this morning. Therefore I was okay with it (on some level). Whining becomes totally unacceptable, a gentle reminder that "I asked for this." The question, the REAL question... the "know thyself" question came when I thought... what if I didn't want to do that workout this morning, and that was what was planned. How would I have reacted? How long would it have taken to compose myself? Would I have worked as hard? Pay attention. I'll pay attention today. Because one day, beyond my control, beyond my planning... The universe, God, & Burkey will conspire against me on my least willing & expecting day and I will have to do an "easy" ab workout. It is then, I will  really learn something about myself. I'll pay attention today, and wait for that. Then sit with it, and let it change me, for the better.  Welcome to the station. This is what we do, if you're willing to do the work.

With Grace & Gratitude...

My Fight

Maybe, just maybe, I will be able to pull my thoughts together enough to make some sense here. What is the truth? What do I feel? I'm a fighter. I know the fight. I've fought my entire life. Two days ago I asked God to show me the truth, within minutes I was shuffling through an old journal and this page fell out... "I feel it's much simpler than I'm allowing it to be right now, I'm used to fighting, overcoming, struggling, I'm used to pain and suffering. The only difference between now and then is that I'm going back through to heal it. To see it, feel it, accept it, and let it go. But what then? What do I do then? One who has spent there entire life wading through the puddles of despair. What then when nothing hurts? I'm afraid of coming to the point where nothing hurts" As I approach my goal weight, I've asked myself, with a tinge of fear, "What am I going to do when I hit my goal weight?" What am I going to have to fight for? I have a deep belief that growth doesn't come without suffering, so if I stop suffering, does that mean I stop growing? I live for growth and change. I'm gonna have to re-evaluate that belief.

Going back to we teach best what we most need to learn... I spent the other morning listening to a friend and pretty much telling her to re-evaluate her beliefs, and stop feeling sorry for herself ..."Hope is a candy coated disguise for wanting something other than what we have and a fear we'll never get it. It's rolled in self-pity and can lead one to delude oneself." That was my last text message to her. The universe always has the first move. 6 hours later... I was told pretty much the same thing... "You are purging pain and feeling sorry for yourself..." Funny how that works isn't it?

After working 8 hours, I hit the gym. I ran today faster than I've ever run, for longer than I've ever run. I did shoulder stretches with a bar, a little bit of yoga, several failed attempts a pull ups, then literally just hung from the bar, overhead squats, sit ups, weight sit ups, weighted lunges across the gym and back, back to sit ups... then I sat there. On the little bench that leans back to do sit-ups, again, with my 25lb weight in my hands staring at myself in the mirror. Admitting to myself, what I knew BEFORE I stepped foot into that gym....I was working through something. What was I hiding from? What was I fighting? Tears welled up in my eyes. I heard D.H. Lawerence's poem, "I never saw a wild thing, sorry for itself, a small bird will drop frozen dead from a bough, without ever having felt sorry for itself." Ah, I was in self-pity. I had been feeling sorry for myself randomly for months. Withholding forgiveness from myself, and wanting to "fix" it. Nothing I can do to "fix" it, forgive myself, and it will fix itself. The fight. I was desperately trying to not fight what was, which was manifesting into my physical world by increasing my sessions with Burkey to twice a week, and working with myself in the gym like I never had before, I was having to drag myself out of the gym. I haven't been able to get enough of working real hard, and putting my body through rigorous physical & mental activity. The other night I couldn't sleep because all I was thinking about was lifting really heavy shit, overhead squats, front squats, & dead-lifts. It was as if I couldn't get enough working out. "Working out" ... what are we working out anyways? Shit that's been too deep, for too long. Wear yourself out.

I'm a fighter. There is a warrior inside of me. Giving up that aspect of who I am, is totally out of the question. But balance, that I can work with. Focusing and re-directing that energy, I can do that too. Knowing when to fight, and when to retreat gracefully. Knowing who we are, accepting that, and using that knowledge serve a greater purpose. 

Relinquishing my need to always fight, just might be the greatest fight of my life... 

With Grace & Gratitude...

What Can You Learn In 60 Seconds?

First of all, I'm not sure I believe in failure. I've always believed/said failure is when you stop trying. That failure didn't exist, and I had never failed at anything. Is that an avenue I've used to avoid taking responsibility? To look at someone and say, I gave my best, I truly did. I gave 120% and it just didn't work out, it didn't turn out like I had planned, I didn't achieve my goal. It's difficult for people to see that person as having failed, because they gave everything they had, what else can you give?! How can you fault someone who walked away/quit/gave up... ONLY when they truly had nothing left to give? I sure don't. I don't fault anyone, including myself. I respect them, I admire them. But what happens when we feel we gave everything we had, only to find out in one quick instant, that obviously we had not... because if we had, we wouldn't be doing what we are in that particular instant of realization.

"An all out minute on the airdyne will, always, teach you something." - b

I had been there before. For 60 seconds, you give every last drop of yourself. Mentally, emotionally, & physically. And spiritually for that matter, because nothing fucking matters for that 60 seconds. Because this 60 seconds is between you & the airdyne, God has nothing to do with it. I was ready and willing to give it my all, everything. Was a plan beneficial or not? Because yes, I initially had one. I know how easy the first 20 seconds are, and how quickly the airdyne takes from you, relentlessly. I had assimilated a bit of a plan, was it in fact beneficial?  Guess will find out next time, when I go in without one. However, 36 seconds in, I truly felt I had nothing left. NOTHING. Like I was giving 150%, and was watching & feeling myself slow down beyond my control. Helpless. I muttered the words on the exhale of an exhausted breath, "I GOT NOTHING" somewhere between 36 & 53 seconds. Instant WTF moment. Instant rage. REALLY? You got nothing?!?! Cause saying those words alone, JUST said you had SOMETHING! Are you fucking kidding me? That was two days ago, I'm still pissed about it. I feel I gave up. I was ready to give up & I almost did until I uttered those words, shattering what I considered absolutely true & honest. Made the fact that I did break my record, meaningless. Is that really it? I'm angry because I ALMOST gave up? Most people congratulate themselves for not giving up when they wanted to, but I'm pissed at myself because I thought about it? Because I almost did? lol That's kind of ridiculous! Incredibly high standards even fore me. Eh, No. I'm angry because I was so fucking sure, POSITIVE without one shred of doubt... I had given everything, only to find out, I hadn't. How many other times in my life had this happened? I doubted everything I ever believed about myself in that moment.

Since then, I've wanted nothing more to get back on that bike. As if to tell it, I'll show you, you're not going to beat me, you are not going to take me back to that moment. I'm ready, lets go again. I won't want to quit at any point. But really now? Let's be honest. It's not about the bike. It doesn't give a shit. The only thing we are battling is ourselves & let me tell you, those who show up at the station, willing to do the work know how to battle. And for most of us, it takes way more strength to surrender than it does to keep fighting.

With Humility, Willingness, & Courage...

Know Thyself

Endorphins are my drug of choice, and the gym is my dealer.

A thought I had earlier as I was going to town on the elliptical and when time was up decided it wasn't enough, I wanted more. I restarted the timer. My core was burning, my shoulders ached, my whole body hurt so much from the workout the night before at the station I felt a vague sense of nausea and overall feeling like shit. Like the enormous amount of muscle breakdown and rebuilding I had put my body through the night before was releasing toxins into my blood stream. I had been drinking water and detox tea all day to flush out my system, I was using the elliptical to push it out. Whatever it was I was fighting with today. Whatever was really cursing through my veins. I got off the elliptical after 54 minutes only because I began to question whether or not I was working smart. Wondering where that line was at, how much more could I hurt my body today and it not be equivalent to taking a knife to my skin? So, I got on the treadmill and walked, then did yoga. Now here I am, pheeneing. Ready to go back, for more. To the gym. The question then became... Dot, what are running from? What are you trying to ignore? Who cares if you didn't stuff your face, or pick up a bottle... the gym is your drug of choice, going again would constitute a act of avoidance. Avoidance of whatever I was feeling, or not wanting to admit to myself. So, WHAT THE FUCK IS IT?

I don't like not getting what I want. I don't like things NOT going my way, actually, I fucking hate it. I can know in my gut that the way it is happening is best, and STILL be fucking pissed. I can be mad simply because it didn't go the way I wanted and see that it's working out just fine! I thought back to the times in my life when I didn't get what I wanted on how enraged I became and exauhstingly sought out multiple avenues to try and get what I wanted. When I totaled my car, I tried to buy it back as SCRAP so I could then pay out of pocket to have it pieced back together, because it BARELY made the  total loss percentage, and I wanted it to NOT be totaled!!! I kept those keys, and license plate for probably two years. I have a hard time letting go when something doesn't go the way I wanted it to. Because somewhere inside of me I believe there is still SOMETHING I can do to bring about my desired outcome. I believe, "There's nothing I/we can do" is a lame bullshit excuse, a fucking cop out. There's ALWAYS something you can do. Maybe the lesson here for me is, the something I can do is let go. To let it be. To do, nothing. Whether it is true or not, I believe in my head there are very few things I've ever wanted & not gotten. I've said for years the only two things I didn't get as I child that I wanted were an easy bake oven & a tree house. The go kart, trampoline, sandbox, four wheeler, brand new car, the leather jacket I saw and "just had to have" my mother drove over an hour to go get, that day where all mine. I'm spoiled. The reason I have an emotional reaction to being told that is because it's true. If you have an emotional reaction to something, it's because that shit hits you in the fucking core. Because it hurts. It hits a part of you that is obviously there, because it hurts, but you can't see it, so then you're confused. I'm spoiled. I've spent my whole life getting just about everything I want. And when I don't get it, I get pissed. I don't know what to do. Being okay with not getting what I want is not a skill I've had to cultivate! I always get what I want. Typing that I know it's not entirely true, and it's coming straight from a cocky ego. But that's what flew out of my fingers just now. And it's not about the attainment, it's about the pursuit. It's always been about the pursuit. That's why... myself, and many of us, don't always want what it once we get it. Because it's never about what we initially think it's about. 

Acceptance of how, not who, but how we are, our perceived "weaknesses" can be a very positive propelling force. It's not about ridding ourselves of that aspect of our personality. It's about owning it, guiding it, using it to our advantage. It's about not being afraid of it, so when we notice it trickling out into the aspect of our lives where it can cause damage, we tell it to back the fuck off, this isn't where it belongs. Or watch it disappear because it no longer serves a purpose.

My intense dislike for not getting what I want work to my advantage beautifully in attaining goals like nursing school, getting sober, weight loss...tangible, measurable goals. It gives me drive, determination. A fire. But not so much when there are other people involved. It can be too much for them. You cannot make another person do anything. If you think you can you are delusional. They have a choice. Any force from you would be immoral, manipulative, & create so dirty karma. I like balance. In the physical material world, I have a lot of control. I create my life. In the arena of human relationships, where so many invisible forces are involved, I have very little... if any. A beautiful balance. I have control only over myself. My actions, my emotions, & my thoughts. And that control comes with practice. Acceptance is something I have control over, it too is a choice. Life is about choices. Make a fucking choice. I wrote that on the inside cover of my Big Book for Alcoholics Anonymous "Get busy living or get busy dying. Make a choice" and I did. I chose alright, and I am better for it. 

Today I chose to acknowledge aspects of my personality I didn't really want to admit to before. It takes more courage to admit a weakness than it does strength to hide it. I also asked today, what my relationship to my Self was... we aren't even going to go there right now. The only place I'm going, is to the gym....

"I really don't like not getting what I want. Actually, I fucking hate it. I can KNOW I'm better off without it but still be pissed because it didn't go MY way. LMAO. I just wanted to tell somebody that wouldn't judge me..." - My text to a friend about 5 minutes before this blog. His response...

"dot, I am constantly judging you and everyone around me. I will say that you measure up quite well. I am proud of you and how hard you work, and how you think and pay attention." and that is why I work with him.

With Grace & Gratitude...

Feeling Compact

I'm constantly told how great I look, how skinny I'm getting, and asked a hundred and one questions regarding my transformation. Today I was even told, "Don't go getting all anorexic on us." I don't even know what to say anymore, except, thank you. A very humble thank you. Someone asked me how much more weight I was trying to loose, and how small I wanted to be. I said, "I don't know, guess my body will let me know". This doesn't end. I'm not waiting to achieve some big prize. There's nothing I'm holding back from myself. There's not set program I'm working. There's no "reward" I'm going to give myself, or some food I'm gonna enjoy because I've deprived myself of it. It's baffling most days. I love it. Every minute of it. I love noticing my shoulder blades, or how large pants fit with plenty room to move. I love how I feel inside, and how McDonald's doesn't even appeal to me. How I'm eating my yogurt, fruit, and granola bar and someone walks in and sets a big mac down and it churns my stomach. Therein lies the miracle.

With Grace & Gratitude...

My "Secret"

"What's your secret?"

I swear, I laugh EVERY TIME someone asks me that question. THERE IS NO SECRET. You know what you need to do do loose weight, you just aren't doing it. I've given lots of thought the last few days to the transformation I've undergone during the loosing of 94 lbs. To say my "weight loss" would be an understatement. Because although initially weight loss was my goal, it slowly became a simple by-product of change, one of many. Internal & external. You know those moments when you say something and you realize HOLY shit, I've changed. That happened to me the other day. I friend asked me if "my trainer could whip her into shape by July" and my response was "Sure, how hard are you willing to work?" And I was dead serious. That statement, came from a place inside of my psyche cultivated by the station and those who help make it what it is. I get cocky sometimes, like right now... I'm a little in cocky mode. But you know what? I deserve to be a little cocky every now and then. I worked hard. I pushed through the fear & the pain, I faced demons I never knew I had. I've cried, I've laid on the floor giving all I had just to catch my breath. I've humbly admitted yes... I could have pushed harder, and during a five month period found myself battling an eating disorder. I've tended wounds on my body for weeks because I wanted to see if I could do it & gotten so pissed at myself because my body was desperately trying to give out, and I wasn't ready to. There are people at the station I feel are stronger, more willing, and push harder than I do. People I feel I don't even deserve to be in the same workout group with. But there is something to be said about being aware & surrounded by people who are stronger, more willing, and push harder. They help you make you better, and no that was not a typo. Even though, who you are right now is perfect, and exactly who you should be... tomorrow is a different day. Be a different you. There is no end. There is no finish line. 

I guess it is here I will do my little venting paragraph which I've never done, and seems goes against my Buddhist nature. But here goes... I believe all paths in life are truly individualized, and the weight loss journey is no different. But when you go have gastric bypass surgery, don't fucking talk to me about weight loss like we are in this together. fuck you. Don't talk to me like you can relate to the depth of change I've undergone and what a struggle it's been. You're stomach can physically not hold the same amount of  food it used too, so little in fact... you must consume supplements to meet your daily nutritional needs. OF COURSE you are going to loose weight! fuck you. When you've watched other addictions in your life go out of control, or your weight has come back because you never dealt with the underlying issue as to why you were overweight in the first place!?!?! COME SEE ME. Until then, I don't give a fuck about what you ate or didn't eat today or whether or not your going to the gym too. Because we have nothing to talk about. 

My secret? Well, if you want to call it that, here it is. I wouldn't have wanted it ANY. OTHER. WAY....

I made a decision I was willing to do whatever it took to loose weight. I addressed it on all levels...the physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual. I found what worked for me, but not without finding out what didn't. I never gave up on the bigger picture. I didn't put a time line on when I'd loose x amount of weight. I saw ONE number, my goal weight and didn't share it with anyone for a VERY long time. Two and a half years later, I think there are five people who know what that number is. In the beginning, I prayed. I asked God to show me why I was overweight and asked for help. I trusted the perfect people would come into my life at the perfect time, and they did. Early on, I kept a food journal  without counting the calories, it helped me become aware of how much I was eating without overwhelming me. I walked everyday for 30 minutes, that's all I could talk myself into doing and even that was a struggle. I saw a personal trainer once a week. I did my best to cut back on how much food I was eating, and make better choices. I gained 12lbs back over the first holiday season! But I refused to stop, I just kept going. To stop was guaranteed failure, at least if I kept going I had a chance. Eventually, I used my "weaknesses" to my advantage. I worked hard, real fucking hard. I got a different trainer, and decided to take a deeper look at the underlying emotional issues. I took hypnotherapy, acupuncture, & yoga. I've been to Overeaters Anonymous, and read three books that changed my life and my relationship with food. (Women, Food, and God. The Yoga of Eating. & A Course In Weight Loss.) I got to know myself & my body. I  learned to trust myself. I asked my body what IT needed and gave it that. Guess what? I'm not on a fucking diet. I've never been on a fucking diet. I eat whatever I really want. But I ask myself... is it worth it? How bad do I REALLY want this? Do I really want it at all? And you know what, when I eat it, I enjoy that shit. Every bite, because it doesn't come without a price. Periodically I will keep a food journal on myfitnesspal.com to keep me conscious of what I'm eating Funny thing is... in not denying myself anything, and listening to my body it has naturally created aversions to certain foods. Most often, I don't even want the shit that's bad for me! But it took me almost two years to get to that point, and it still happens every now and then. It took patience & grace. It took willingness. A willingness to feel all the pain I had been eating away for years. A willingness to trust other people and myself. I seriously, could go on for what could constitute an entire book. Right now, I'm still not on a diet and I work out, do yoga, & train because I love it. I'm still finding what works for me, and if it stops working, I change it. This is my life. I eat less and better, because it's a habit. Because it feels good. Because I eat what my body wants. I finally love myself & my body enough today to want to be good to it. Anything less is unacceptable. Because I've addressed (and still addressing) the underlying issues as to why I was overweight in the first place, God's grace, and a moment of pure willingness to do whatever it took... I've lost 94lbs in two and a half years. It wasn't quick. I wasn't easy. But it was worth it and I'm better for it. 

With Grace & Gratitude....

Dottie

Giving In or Giving All

"to know when to bend and when to leap - when to bow out and when to hurl our passion like buckets of paint across a stage. to give every last drop of our selves" - b

       So which is it? How do you know when to "bow out" or to "give every last drop of our selves?" Maybe both get you to the same place. Not sure. I do know for the last two weeks, I've not wanted to train with Burkey. I didn't "feel like it". Various reasons, or excuses.... I mean there is a very fine line between the two, and often I'm not sure if there is a line at all. I've been trying the "pushing through it" thing for two weeks. Where I show up, and do the work. First week, good. Last week, I quit half way through. This week, I woke up at 4am and couldn't stop arguing with myself about why I should keep my appointment today. I finally texted him at 6:27am and said "I can't sleep bc I'm arguing with myself about how I need to work out today. I cannot maintain any sort of desire to do so, so I'm canceling. I don't want to work that hard today." The quote above reverberated through my mind. I'm not good at resting, at taking time out to recover. I take small spurts and tell myself that was plenty. The thought of NOT working out at all for more than a day sends me almost into a panic. I'm so used to walking around with a constant low level of soreness, somewhere in my body.

   What do I feel? Shame. Anger. Impatience. I didn't want to NOT go today! What's this a lesson in? Being true to myself? Humility (burning up of that ego)? Goal setting and decision making? Distinguishing between wants and needs? Being okay with not getting what I want? Letting go of congrol? I mean, I LITERALLY just made a training schedule for the tough mudder, posted a whole blog about it and everything! THEN skipped both yin AND weight training? Wow. A lesson in not caring what other's may think maybe? OR  could  this is be about acceptance. Being with things as they are. I could run myself crazy in circles asking and attempting to answer all of these questions. I wonder if maybe I create anger inside me, so I can push myself to my limits. Or if this is how my mind creates chaos in my life. As if I'm aware enough for it to not totally run my life or drag others into the drama, but still there enough to reek havoc on me. Right now I'm angry at myself. But that isn't productive (or is it?)  and the best thing I can do is allow it to be there. Be angry at myself. If I'm okay with being angry with nyself, then a sense of happiness begins to rise to the surface because I'm technically getting what I want. I know, it's really strange how that happens isn't it?

   Under all of this. There is a quiet spaciousness that is just there. Observing all of this. A knowing that figuring it out isn't what this is about right now. Just allowing it to be there, and be gone when it's over. Feels like today is a good day to slow down, breath a little deeper, sit a little longer in meditation, and take the day in chunks. What is it I feel I need to do right now? Do that, then ask again. Those thoughts bring me peace.... and sure don't run me in crazy circles.

Love & Light,
Dottie

 

Endurance Day #1: What Did I learn?

3.1 miles in 38m41s

      That was my run time yesterday. Good, bad, or indifferent... THAT'S where I'm at right now. A little faster than the first time, a little slower than the last time. The voice in my head always seems to be the loudest when my body is struggling to catch it's next breath, basic survival instincts. NOTHING else matters to that voice but stopping to breathe, I have to make it matter.

      I set multiple goals as I run, for various reasons. A practice in strengthening what I see as the weakest aspects of my personality.  Indecision nearly paralyzes me, I think that's true for many of us. I'm forced to make a decision. Running without a goal is just making more work for myself, every second and distance ran without a goal in mind is wasted energy. What's it going towards? Indecision? Procrastination? That's what I'm running towards in that moment, unless I have a goal. A goal also helps me combat that voice inside my head that swears I will die right there on the treadmill if I don't stop this very moment... I've yet to die on a treadmill. And really, I can't think of a single story right now of anyone that has, because the mind quits WAAAAAY before the body does. Its' a fact. I failed to meet my second goal I set for myself yesterday. I quit before I hit the mark I had set. I quit last Thursday with Burkey.... yet both times, I set another goal, almost as punishment, but more so a consequence. A consequence that would make me better next time, not stir up feelings of self-loathing. Both times. Holding myself accountable. I've heard people often say, especially in 12 step recovery groups we should hold each other accountable. HOLD YOURSELF ACCOUNTABLE. I had that thought as I was running my third goal, and made it. Sprung from a want to text my trainer to tell him I was doing my "endurance day." What the fuck for? After all, this was my training. He wouldn't be standing beside me on the course. And again, what does that action support? What does that energy create more of? Dependence? Looking for outward approval/accountability. I chose to feed integrity.

       Going back to my goal setting as consequences. My first goal was a solid mile without stopping at 6.0. Done. Second goal 0.5mile at 5.5 (I was goal setting AS I was running, that was as far as I had planned lol)....  but I stopped running before I hit my second goal, okay fine. Tired? Couldn't breathe? Wanted to give my heart rate a break? (Please note the sarcasm) Well that's fine, if I'm gonna take a break, it's going to serve a purpose. I couldn't run again until my heart rate was down to 135.  TORTURE. Because that would effect my run time, but force my body & mind to utilize every moment of slowing down. Compromised rest. I couldn't be angry, that would up my heart rate, I had to be patient, because how much control do you REALLY have over lowering your heart rate? Doing this forced me to not focus on the problem but to just breathe, and know the "problem" would resolve itself when I let go. When I reached inward, and found that still and quiet pace... everything else took care of itself. As far as the Oxygen depletion exercise (the workout with Burkey), I will repeat it until I complete it. Someways our bodies need the training more, other days it's our minds. How many sessions do I really want to waste doing the same thing over & over? Owning your emotions. Allowing them to work for you. I have control issues, I'm beginning to think the only reason they are issues is because I allowed the things I COULD control to control me, such as emotions, reactions, thoughts.... those things are within my realm of control. So, because I felt I couldn't control those things I attempted to control other people, situations, etc... things I could not. Thus the irony of the situation; a quagmire of the human condition.

     I've never found anything as fascinating as life itself and the relationship with ourselves. It's like an never ending hole, maybe that's why so many are afraid to jump in. Be honest with yourself, honesty is humbling. I found humility in the question I asked myself last week, "Why do I have no desire to workout in a large group?" The answer I heard first and the loudest was "Because I might find out I'm not as bad ass as I think I am." - WHAT A CAN OF WORMS that answer opened... a blog unto itself. Exploration. Did I really believe that? What was the quieter answer that lay a little deeper? How deep do I want to go? As of that day, that was deep enough for me. As of today, the desire to push myself "THAT" hard is less than it has been..... A moment of clarity: In Yoga they say every pose is brand new. EVERY DAY, EVERY MOMENT is different, because we change moment to moment... nothing is the same, ever. Down to the very cells in our bodies. I create my own suffering through my expectations, comparisons, judgements, expierences, etc.... how about this? How about I just fucking show up and do the work. Back to the basics. That's where you go when who you were is stripped away and it's time to re-build.

Love & Light
Dottie

Tough Mudder & Burning Up My Ego

#7 on the top 10 ways to train for the tough mudder: "Eating glass while wrestling giraffes to the ground..."

       A month ago I decided I was going to tackle this 10-12 miles of 27 obstacles next fall, approximately a year from now. It's goal, "to test all around strength, stamina, mental grit, and camaraderie." My goal, to give myself a focal point, a reason to keep digging, an outline, a tool to know myself better.

      Last week I put a training schedule together for the next couple months, with periodic re-evaluations and amping up inevitably. But right now here's where I'm at:

- 1 endurance day a week at a minimum of 3.1 miles. (Preferably running, but if I can't talk myself into it that's fine I can precor or elliptical, but at a minimum of 5 miles because I'm fairly certain there are no precors or ellipticals on the course)
- 2 flexibility days. (One regular stretching yoga and one yin)
- 1 weight training with Burkey.
- 4-6 cardio's a week

   This gives me some organization. A balance. Me being the Libra, yogi, and Buddhist following person I am, balance is of utmost importance. There's an unseen force intricately and beautifully woven into balance. The masculine aspects of weight lifting balanced with the femininity of yoga. The long drawn out aspects of maintaining something for a long period of time balanced with the short outbursts of 30 min cardio. On a grandeur scale, this is the balance of my life. The physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual. NOTHING brings you into the moment like physical pain, or like feeling like you may or may not catch your next breath.... and nothing puts in you in reflection like hard earned endorphins pulsating through your body. My ego thrives on this shit, I know that but that's okay for right now. It's exactly what I need to push me. To give me just enough stubborness to not give up, just enough confidence to not allow what others think of my training to make me afraid to do it.... just enough of everything I need to make the changes I need to make, allowing me to better serve a bigger purpose. ALL of it is essential. It had no beginning and will hve no end. We cause our own suffering, our ego causes our suffering . I read the other day that "Suffering has a noble purpose: the evolution of consciousness and the burning up of the ego." There's definately truth in that. Maybe that's what's happening right now...the burning up of my unhealthy ego. Because I feel that burn, figuratively & literally. There is a fire inside of me that I'm just not afraid of anymore. I find comfort in knowing that it all serves a purpose and will burn itself out when that purpose is served. I've realized lately, my ego is huge. I really thought I had a handle on it. That I was aware enough at this point in my life to know 98% of the time when it was enacted. I was wrong. Good thing awareness & willingness is all it takes to allow something to be changed.

Love & Light
Dottie

Pain & Suffering

    I awoke about 45min ago, and laid there. Maybe it was the pain. The soreness had begun to set in. I hurt from armpit to armpit. I smiled, and turned over. I couldn't go back to sleep though. I thought of the gym & running. I reflected upon the workout with Burkey the day before & conversations with a new friend. People who share in, what I perceive to be a very unique outlook on fitness, I don't even want to call it fitness. But what the hell else would I call it? So, here I am, 5:44am. I kept hearing myself ask the question, "What do I want?" & the answer was always, "More." It made me nervous. A typical addict statement. More. More is never enough. I relentless pursuit of that which will never satiate. I spent almost two hours at the gym yesterday. Training for an hour, then decided it wasn't enough so I hoped on the treadmill & ran. I came home and showered only to find myself wanting a "leisurely barefooted walk" about 3 hours later, which turned into a barefooted run. When I woke up this morning, all I thought about was bench pressing. Yesterday was the first time we did real bench pressing stuff and several times I wasn't sure if I was gonna get that bar up, and told Burkey through gritted teeth not to touch it. A "safety net" if you will, somehow has a way of making people not push themselves as hard as they could. Fuck that safety net, I didn't want him to touch my bar. I was going to get it up. Believe it or not, weight lifting is never an isolated muscle exercise, if it is your doing it wrong & cheating yourself. I did fail at getting that weight up at least 3 times. I wanted to push myself into & through failure. The thing that finally got that bar up had nothing to do with strength, but a change in my breathing. It made all the difference. Utilization of the energetic life force. A deep breathe along with a pause as I held the bar above my chest, holding the breath on the way down, and breathing out while pushing the weight away from my body. Where I had failed  to get it up even a second time, I got it up three times. And I laughed. A joy. I loved it. As if I was pushing back against every emotion that had pushed on me for the last 10 years. It was payback. I fought back against whatever it was that had so often fueled those days & nights of self-destruction. Breathing & pushing that hard make you go places inside yourself you haven't been in years. I don't mind going there these days, in fact I welcome it. I've built a positive relationship with pain & suffering... in that way, in eradicates itself. If the relationship is positive, and I find joy within it; then where is the pain & suffering?

Love & Light
Dottie

Growing Passion

"There are few things I enjoy more than training hard."

 - My thought Monday after working out with Burkey.  As if I had been denying that fact, ashamed of what people would think if they knew how much I really loved to put my body through rigorous physical training... dammit I can't find the quote but something along the line of a drive to push one's self which borders on psychosis. < I've been there. We laugh joking about how sick we are & how much we love it. There have been surreal moments this week. Surprised by what I could do and was doing.  Secretly admiring the blood blisters on my hands, and bruises on my shins... that bar has no empathy. Smiling with every sore movement of my body for days afterward. My hidden pride, knowing what I can do in that that station, wanting only more. To push more, to lift more, to see what kind of internal dialogue pops up after holding a 15ft slosh pipe over your head for 3 min slowly loosing feeling in your arms becoming aware of the phantom sensation of water trickling down my forearms. What is said in my head, says a lot about me... and I want to know what that is. People watch, and you breathe. Because there comes a point when it takes all you have to simply do that, just breathe. Speaking of watching, that's what I'm doing. Watching a passion for training grow inside me like my passion for personal growth, which I guess they could go hand in hand. Inspired by those who train on a level many would consider "crazy"... yet I see it as honesty, willingness, & humility. I see it as part of an intricate matrix of who I am. Physical, mental, & spiritual. Allegory. A word I didn't even know the meaning to until a few days ago, unaware I didn't know the meaning until a comment was made standing outside Anytime Fitness holding my station 515 shirt. I wasn't gonna wear that shirt until I knew wtf allegory meant, lol. Powerful. Strong. Humble. Scared. Courageous. Willing. Proud. Honest.... just a a few of the things I feel when I drop that bar, scream out because it hurts, or express how much I FUCKING HATE whatever I'm about to do, but do it anyway. What am I passionate about? A question I ask myself from time to time. I'm passionate about personal growth on all levels. Allowing the physical, mental, & spiritual to dance within a beautiful balance of every feeling, emotion, & action or non-action. I'm passionate about being as tough as I am delicate, as feminine as I am masculine, & as healed as I was broken. Reminding myself of the importance of rest with drive. Inspired. Passionately inspired. I love this shit. I want more, like any good addict, I want more. But today, that which I pursue leads me down a path of self-discovery. "Know they self." I'm no longer afraid of who I am. When you have consciously & willingly exposed yourself to pain your threshold increases. What is there to fear, if you've already experienced more pain that what is coming? Whether it by choice or chance? Once you've been there, your less afraid to go back. So go first willingly. Allegory.

Love & Light
Dottie

My Body, Artfully Crafted

"Just think about that beach body"

    What a joke, I thought. I laughed & shook my head. There was a picture of a beach with a fake sun just above those words. I thought of how terrible it must be to hate every minute of self-improvement. To wish to be ANYWHERE but right there, earning the body you have. Because that's the truth, we have earned whatever body we have. Our bodies are simply a physical manifestation of thoughts, experience, feelings, effort, work, etc. "Be with your body" - I heard that too in yoga yesterday. Be with my body. This beautiful piece of art that I've watched morph over the past 2 years due to an unwavering faith, a willingness to do whatever it takes, going to places within myself I was terrified to go. My body is a canvas of which you can see where I've been & who I am at any given moment, because my body will always carry remnants of 319 lbs, and that's okay. That's my story. There will forever be self-induced scars on my thighs & calves, a portal for my pain when I knew no other outlet, and that's okay. Along with small tell-tell signs of anxiety induced picking at my face and upper arms, because that was the safest thing I could do at that moment. My shoddy nail beds and slightly aged skin are fragments of years spent desperately trying to get others to perceive me as pretty with acrylic nails and year round tanning, because I allowed what others thought of me to carry entirely to much weight, and if they thought I was pretty, and told me enough, maybe I would believe it too. Hmm, interesting isn't it? I spent the first 22 years of my life reaching for an outward solution to my inward problems. Today,  I am building myself anew from the inside out both figuratively & literally. I address the real issues, the inner issues, whatever they may be and watch as the outside changes as a result of this.. I watch my leg muscles naturally chisel themselves out, my collar bones dominate my upper chest, and know that although I can't see them yet... there HAS to be a six pack under what's left of my slowly fading armor of fat I've carried for years. My hair cannot get short enough, and I ABSOLUTELY LOVE that I can dead life 295lbs, which is more than my body weight. Yoga keeps me feminine & flexible. I run physically now so I don't have to run emotionally. I may not ever have the "beach body" so many of us think about when we see signs like the one I saw in the gym today, but I'm going to have MY body. I'm going to know good, bad, or indifferent, I earned that body, and I'm gonna wear it proudly.

 Did I do this alone any of it, the destruction and rebuilding of who I am? Absolutely not. We cannot function alone. We are not here to be alone, to face life alone. I am so grateful for the people who have been part of this process. It's not about that beach body, I couldn't give a fuck about that beach body. It's about the process of getting to where you are, right now. It's bout knowing yourself, loving yourself, forgiving yourself. It's about knowing it's okay to be mad at yourself sometimes, and really, no, you don't know who you are. No one knows who they are. I am whatever kind of person you perceive me to be, to you that is. I wouldn't be able to convince you otherwise. My perceptions of me, are no no less bias than yours. Because guess what, even we don't know everything about ourselves, we hide things from ourselves. So who are you? You don't know. I know who I perceive me to be. What do you THINK about yourself should be a more appropriate question. Because that's what really matters, what you think of yourself effects every moment of your life. Every decision, every relationship, failure, success, EVERYTHING. So what do you think about yourself? It matters. Whether this person or that person agrees or not, doesn't matter. Whether it's "true" or not doesn't matter. What do you think of yourself? I asked myself that question today. And if there is something about yourself that you don't like, or is hindering your goals & aspirations, then change it, but you can't fix what you don't know is broken. I've spent years trying to answer the question who am I? And couldn't come up with an answer. I was asking the wrong question. How do I see myself? Is what I was suppose to be asking myself. And replying honestly, no matter how much I may not have wanted to admit it. At the very least, admit it to yourself. There will be some things I may not like about myself, but how do I perceive me? It's imperative that I know this. Along with the truth that this perception will change, I will change, & other's perception will change. Everything changes, and thank God for that.

It's amazing how when we are there it doesn't seem "that bad" but yet as we recover from self-destruction it becomes so much more clear how much we really hated ourselves. This is my recovery.

Love & Light
Dottie