Yesterday Was the Day

Yesterday was 100 days.

I don’t know why I picked 100, and I don’t know why I’m sitting here with tears in my eyes. They are not from sadness. I wasn’t sure what was going to happen in these 100 days. I assumed there would be some nitty, gritty inner work, and there was. Emotions surfaced. Mental change surfaced. And I think there might have been a LITTLE weight-loss. I’m not 100% sure because I throw out my scale 😄.

There’s a re-figuring of who I am going on right now. I am not the same woman I was 100 days ago, but no one would see that yet. The last couple weeks have been filled with thoughts of utter gratitude, a deep, overwhelming gratitude for this life I have. It’s the life I’ve always wanted. I feel free - finally. I feel strong mentally. There is joy in my life. I’ve decided to switch careers and my goal is for us to pay cash for Sabrina’s NP school. I’m building a new wardrobe. I’m building a new me, the me I have always wanted. It has not been a perfect process - shame, worry, guilt - have all needed to be surrendered and my humanness embraced. I am not just a fat woman, and despite my previous fear, most people would agree. I was told in reiki I need to see it; I need to see myself thin. I’ve come a long way. These 100 days may not look much different on me to most, but I feel it - a deeper sense of commitment and clarity. A peaceful focus I’ve not had in years, if ever. There is a mental toughness I wasn’t sure existed, mostly grown from the introduction of stoicism.

Right now, at this moment. I haven’t worked out since Tuesday (it’s Sunday) I’ve logged all but one of my days and stuck to around 150g of carbs per day. (100g was encouraged by my doc). My podcast just talked about realistic goals - goals we are likely to do on a scale of at-least 8/10, ten being without a doubt. I am learning to balance these two; the attention to food detail and consistent fitness. And I’m going to do it, not because I want to lose weight necessarily, but because I want this to be so much a part of my life I don’t think twice about getting up and working out at 6am on a Tuesday, or passing on the majority of carbs at meal-times. I want this to just be part of what I do and who I am. I hope Josh, my coach, hangs with me. Fitness has replaced more than one unhealthy habit for me. This is for my mental health, whoever wrote that damn article was merely answering a quiet, late-night call from my soul. I think this last 100 days was for my mental health.

I am not ashamed anymore. I am a lucky gal. I consider my life a miraculous gift. So, here’s to podcasts, early-morning workouts, a good coach, and some willingness to do the work.

“You will not always be motivated, you must learn to be disciplined.”

With Grace & Gratitude...

Day 1 - Honesty & Self-Pity

Honesty & Self Pity

With a comment regarding generosity to the point of dishonesty I was inclined to evaluate my honesty with myself in regards to food which expanded into... everything.

Yesterday was a total loss food wise. I binged on snickers bars and laffy taffy. I blamed Carisa (jokingly), but let's face it... I ate that shit on my own accord, and there is always some truth in jest. I made a decision. I logged the first 5 fun-sized bites of garbage and still felt in control. Then I chose to lose control, and I paid for it. By the end of the night I felt dizzy, foggy, exhausted, and contemplated checking in for a head CT having convinced myself I was having a TIA.

My somewhat dishonest and borderline unhealthy relationship with food is not new. But I am fucking ready to be done with it.

I pulled it together quite quickly today. I feel pretty good. Completed my workout even with a sore wrist. I didn't want to, though. I had to talk myself into. I began to whine to the point of feeling sorry for myself. I struggled to go to the bathroom today because of my food choices yesterday. That was the moment I realized I was feeling sorry for myself.

"A small bird will fall frozen dead from a bough without every having felt sorry for itself."

I pulled my shit together.

The challenge here, at this point in my life, in my health journey, is to hold myself accountable. To be honest with myself. Rely on myself to show up, do the work, and recover properly. To eat the diet that works best for my body, and get there. To trust myself.  No one else an cross that finish line for me.

In the end of any cycle, any challenge, we are always brought face to face with ourselves or some aspect of that.

She Asked What I Wanted for my Birthday.

As Adelynne innocently reminded me today, my 34th birthday is in 19 days. I will be 34 this year. It's weird. I remember my mother having a 40th birthday for a friend when I was in highschool, and I remember thinking what an age-related hump that person just hit in their life. Was this old, I wondered? I answered yes to that question all those years ago but now 40 doesn't seem so old. I think all us 30 somethings would/could agree.

When I was asked what I wanted for my birthday I couldn't think of anything. I just smiled. I truly felt in that moment I had everything I had ever asked for. All things I ever desired where here with me now or in motion. I felt nothing but a deep reverberating gratitude and joy. I was so thankful I imagined spitting out those chips and salsa kissing the faces of my three favorite gals sitting at the table around me.

I AM GRATEFUL.

I imagine, last year, I asked for a baby. Last year alone we had 3 failed inseminations, I'm certain my wish for my 33rd birthday was for number four to work. And it did. I sat across from that miracle last night. I looked at her, her other Mother, and her sister and wondered what did I want this year? 

When I blow those candles out in nineteen short days, I'm going to wish for the ability to be more present in all the moments in my life. When I turn 40, I will have lived in Michigan as long as I had lived in TN. It will have been well over a decade since I decided to get sober, and I will have friends I have known for over 25 years (I mean... hopefully we are still putting up with each other's crap). That shit has gone by fast. All of it. I don't want to take it for granted. I wish to enjoy and soak up every moment of the rest of this life. Literal blood and tears have been shed for me to be here as I am. And I am the best I've ever been. There is still work, don't get me wrong, but I have never felt so whole with such a deep desire to connect with those closest to my heart. All I've ever wanted to be is a better person - a better friend, a better daughter, a better mother, a better employee, etc. While I still attest there is nothing wrong with striving to better myself, there is a time and place for it. To fully live in the moment I have to allow myself to be enough in that moment. We all do. 

With Grace & Gratitude...

I Hate Losing Weight

Some days the food struggle is real.

Today has been one of those days. I have wanted all the sweets since I woke up this morning. My day has been a constant reciting of the word no. Just now, I snuck quietly into the kitchen as my 5 year old played in her room, my wife was upstairs, and the baby was sleeping with every intention of eating the other half of that donut we didn't let Adelynne eat about 20 minutes ago. It sucks. But it's real. I shut the refrigerator door as quickly as I had opened it. I won in that moment, but there is just under 7 hours left of today. DAMN THAT STRUGGLE.

Two days ago I met with my long time trainer and friend to evaluate my post-baby fitness level and get my programming for the month. We talked about goals. I always want muscle. I always want to lift. That is easy. Heavy shit is easy. I have an aversion to wanting "weight loss" as a goal. It is instantly irritating. I feel herded into the majority of Americans that say the want to "lose weight" or should lose weight and jump on diet fad trains. Losing weight feels like a fad in and of itself. Like a bunch of meaningless words that have lost all their weight (so much pun intended). I wanted to puke sitting next to that raw wooden desk I imagined to have been cut from last years Christmas trees with an ax as I allowed myself to insinuate that weight loss was my goal. FUCK, I mean really?! Who was I? The metaphorical bitterness of that statement made my nose roll up in disgust. Hadn't weight loss always been the natural byproduct of my other goals such as "being more fit", "making better choices", "healing unresolved issues", and "changing my relationship with food?" I leaned back against that raw pine desk and admitted my distress with uttering such words... weight loss. I also admitted I didn't know why it felt the way it did to say - like I had fallen into some trap or betrayed my own morals. My trainer and friend leaned back in his own chair and said, "Because it's hard. Because for some of us, the food part is hard. You have to tell yourself no." And it is. He knows that struggle, too. Maybe that's why I've always leaned toward building muscle. I can eat then. I can actually eat more. But if I'm completely and deeply honest with myself. I do need to lose weight, or as he more accurately and gracefully put it, lose body fat. And if I continue with this self-honesty, I want to lose body fat. God, that still tastes kinda terrible, but not as bad as "losing weight." So strange.

Words themselves carry weight, but that's a different blog for a different day.

So, I told myself no at Meijer today; I told myself no in my kitchen. I told myself no yesterday to sugar all together and somehow still managed to eat almost 4,000 calories. YES, 4,000 calories. I tracked them, and I'm not exaggerating. This shit IS hard but so has been every other addiction I've ever faced in my life. Food is no different for me. You know what I wanted all that damn sugar today? Because the baby was up half the night, I was tired, woke up irritable, and still haven't had a shower. I'm going to keep telling myself no, though, for today at-least. One day at a time. And maybe one day, it just won't be an issue anymore. THAT is my goal - to live my fucking life. To tolerate and ride my anxieties, stresses, and life experiences with grace and awareness. I want to be healthy and fit because I no longer choose to use food as a drug and because being active brings me so much damn joy and so many endorphins I can't imagine reaching for anything else.

With Grace & Gratitude...

Change & Chaos: They Are Not the Same

I was chatting with a friend the other night after a long day of unexplained anger and irritability. She appeared to have what some people call a "catastrophic reaction" - the anger she had been juggling all day finally came to an explosive head over something seemingly small. After an hour of silence she told me she felt a lot of stress in her life, as if, everything around her was crashing down, and it felt like utter chaos.

I've been thinking about this experience ever since. I did end up telling her that night that change and chaos were not the same, although, sometimes they feel identical. The chaos piece comes from our thoughts - us thinking of 100 different solutions and possibilities, and then possible second outcomes to all those 100 solutions, along with what our actions would be to each and every one of those solutions. Writing that alone sounds chaotic.

Change itself is not chaotic, but it can definitely feel that way. And maybe I'm writing this so I can read it later, after this baby is born, when my entire life, schedule, and habits get shifted in someway. Some change we yearn and pray for and anxiously await it's impending arrival. Some change is entirely unexpected (this one might actually be a bit chaotic for a bit), and other times it happens so slowly we don't hardly recognize it until one day look around a bit confused wondering where something went in our life.

If I've learned anything about change in the last decade it's that my monkey mind is what causes more distress and anxiety than anything. Taking things one step at a time, one day at a time, is what gets me through it. (And usually a solid amount of Bach Flower drops, exercise/lifting, yoga, meditation, & journaling) In those times I feel I don't have time for any of these things, I make time for them. Sounds cliche, but I do; I have to. Otherwise, life begins to feel like it's spinning out of control. I need these things in my life. They are essential to my over-all well-being. Anytime I talk to anyone about stress or feelings of anxiety and confusion I ask them what they do as a healthy stress reliever. That energy must go somewhere. It cannot stay within our energy fields. Our minds and bodies will adjust accordingly and create disease - some sort of protective mechanism intended for short-term use that accidentally becomes long-term and harmful.

I encourage people to find something. Out of habit, I am quick to offer and encourage the things I know work for me, but it's important to understand that all of us are different. And for God's sake, start small! Create space. Could I take those 7 minutes I spend scrolling through facebook to text a friend hello? How about meditate? Or walk outside and take three long/deep breathes? Be creative.

With Grace & Gratitude.

Don't Be a Victim

"Don't be a victim"

This statement has rolled through my mind regularly the last few days. I've acknowledged it and given it some energy. I've probed it's relevance and possible signal for self-reflection, especially, in light of some family drama and new realizations. Don't be a victim. 

I don't necessarily feel I am that person who allows myself to be feel victimized often, if ever. It's something I've lived and dealt with in depth previously, and I remain mindful of it's potential to affect my life again. But why was this coming into my awareness? Why was the Universe dropping these hints, or more so, reminders to no be a victim? Was I allowing myself to be that? Had I already fallen back into that trap temporarily? Family dynamics are the trickiest of human relationships. I've often noticed that as soon as I feel I've got something healed or handled the Universe puts a family member in front of me and tests my ability to make a different decision or carry out a different action.

Don't be a victim.

It's easy to allow when it's all you've ever known. It's easy to do when it feels like things are always being done TO you. It's easy to do when you feel out of control or exhausted. It's easy to do when you give in against your better judgement because you are utterly exhausted from the boundaries you've set are constantly being pushed against. For the Walking Dead fans, it's like holding a wall against a herd of zombies. They never stop pushing, and more noise attracts more of them to push against your boundaries. Eventually, the mortal (the mindful) get pissed. And when they do, they push back with vengeance and leave devastation in their wake. That's where I'm at.

With Grace & Gratitude...

Training is Spiritual

There comes a moment for me in intense training where everything falls utterly silent except the rhythmic sound of my own breath and that of the rower or bike if I'm on one. It's not a fading out, but a fading in. It always comes after a series of emotional responses that go usually go like this - whining & bitching, anger, feelings of defeat & exhaustion, and finally what I would consider surrender. In words it sounds something like this - "I don't want too", "fuck this & fuck you", "I can't," and, finally, "I'm okay."

I have been asked over the years, more than once, why I train and what exactly I was training for. My response has always been that I was training for life. I train for the everyday ups and downs, hard days and boring days. I was training my mind and emotions that drove this body to walk through this life. I wanted to be stronger, balanced, and free. I still do, and that is why I still train. AND to help the UPS guy, that literally just knocked on my door, to deliver a box that weighed 150lbs in our garage.

Yesterday, I drove to work feeling exhausted and defeated. On a scale of 0-10, 0 being no energy, I was at a 0.5, and I had been there for at-least 3 days. I wanted to cry all morning, and talked myself out of calling-in at-least a dozen times. My body hurt, I was emotional, and I had just told my trainer to wish my luck in not cussing anyone out today. I didn't want to be there - in that mental space. It wasn't helpful; it never is. I thought of the station. I thought of cross-fit and all those moments in the gym where I had felt these exact feelings and manage to pull it off. I managed to survive without crumbling like a small child and create a mess that created feelings of guilt and shame. I remembered that feeling of surrender and completion, where the exhaustion turned into relief and ecstasy. I saw the path I had used so many times before to dig deep. What would have been a torturous day, turned out to be a normal day in the semi-controlled chaos that is the emergency department. I was tired, no doubt, but I pulled it together and pulled through. And I didn't cuss anybody out.

Training is spiritual - if it's done right. It changes you, forever. I have not trained regularly at the station since probably 2012, but the change that transpired there, and other places since, continues to travel with me. It feels like yesterday I laid on those black mat floors in sweat and tears, working in silence while someone watched without sympathy or assistance. The work is different now. Those black mat floors are in my own basement, the white board on the wall is mine, and there is no one standing over me. It feels a bit strange but necessary - a time and opportunity for integrity when the last decade has been full of necessary aides.

The lifting workout prescribed and written has been sitting on my phone for 11 days now. Seven should be the max. I have lengthened the safety string, but not cut it. Let me get down there and get this done.

With Grace & Gratitude...