Trust

"Trust yourself."  "Trust me."  "Trust the process."  "Trust your body."  I don't know how many times he must have said words along those lines to me.  Because I can talk myself out of anything.  My inner dialogue was can't.  Just about every workout, for a long time, I said "I can't."  But after drilling it into my head that I could if I just trusted my body, it started to sink in.  And I really did get to a place where I believed I could do just about any physical challenge in front of me.  I may not nail it the first time around; but my body was capable of doing what I wanted it to do.  I just needed to get out of my own way.

Which is why I got up on that Ninja course rock wall that had no harness.  I just wanted to try.  I trusted.  But my body failed.  My knee dislocated.  It happened.  I tried and I not only failed, I seriously hurt myself.  And now I am struggling with rebuilding that trust within myself.  Because I have to be careful so I don't re-injure myself...but I now have fear in the back of my mind.

Mike posted a workout on his facebook page.  I immediately wrote it down and brought it to the gym ready to give it a go.  It was a plyometric workout so lots of jumping.  Box jumps were included in that.  I knew that I may have to modify some of the moves to be safe.  I even got the lowest box out and just did a step up to feel things out.  The way down is where I felt pain.  I sat there for a minute trying to decide if I was just afraid of hurting it or if I really needed to hold off.  I tried one more.  Same thing, pain on the way down.  I decided it was my body telling me that I wasn't there yet.

So I did 3 sets of 20 with a minute in between of this:

Back squats (just with the bar- 45 pounds- I'm also starting at ground zero there too)
Upright rows (40 pounds) 
Sumo Squats - no weight
Bicep curls- 40 pound

This was after a hill interval work out on the treadmill.  My knee is a bit sore. Lots of squatting.  I have ice on it.  It was the right decision.  I'm trying to rebuild, but I can't be stupid about it.  I also can't be scared.

Scared didn't get me anywhere. 

Something

I'm making progress.  It's slow, but it's steady. And it's on my own.

You all know how I feel about Mike.  I love Mike.  Mike is a dear dear friend to me and he changed my life.  He helped me change my inner dialogue.  He taught me.  He pushed me.  He listened to me.  And then I was on my own and I stumbled.  But I have gotten back up, brushed myself off, and dug deep.  This is all me.  So I'm not going to take it away by saying it isn't very much.  It's something.  It's enough.

I'm bad ass.

Taken at the Y last summer.

Taken about a month ago, just before my injury.

It's Been Awhile

Why have I been avoiding this?  Oh yeah, cause I feel like a failure.  Cause I parted with my trainer,  did not appreciate where I had gotten to, obsessed about figuring out why I was stuck, moved, and gained back about 15-20 of the 60 I lost.  Which doesn't sound like a lot.  But it is.  For me it is.  My shorts for summer don't fit as of right now and I'm battling some demons I thought I had defeated.  So I stopped putting myself out there.  I was ashamed.  I felt like I had failed at something I had worked so hard on and gotten a lot of encouragement for.

I hid.

I forgot why I do this blog.  It is to process through all my crap.  I make it public because maybe someone else has crap and it helps them process through theirs.  And I need the support from people who love me.  I have lost 6 pounds of that 20 I gained.  By doing what I know to do. Lots of lean protein and veggie packed smoothies and training.  Mike training.  And I was feeling pretty confident that by summer I was going to be back where I was.

And then I hurt myself.  Badly.  My knee dislocated while on a rock wall.  Well, ok,  I didn't stay on the rock wall.  And I knew it was bad.  I lay there in the pit for several minutes not moving in an absolute panic because I knew it was bad.  I was so scared of it being bad.  I knew what was in front of me.  Work.  The Urgent Care x-ray showed no tears.  So it all could have been worse.  I'm on week 4 and just now walking without a brace.  But my muscles are so weak.  I stand on one leg and it shakes.  In some dark moments I have almost cracked.  Because I was doing 10- 1 minute hill sprint intervals, 24 inch box jumps, and working on my pull up progression.  I had recently reached out to Mike to ask him for a new challenge.  Pistol squats.  I felt strong.  And now I don't.  Now I am back to walking on the treadmill, leg lifts and balancing to strengthen all of those muscles again.  I'm trying to be humble.  Shit happens for a reason right?  Maybe I needed to start over for some reason.

I have been focused.  Determined.  Doing what I can when I can and listening to my body.  I'm too old to mess around with knees now.  In the past I would have barreled ahead.  But I'm taking it slow.  Trying to be smart.  Progressing when and how I can.  For the first couple of weeks I only did arm work where I did not have to put any weight on it at all.  Now I'm trying to incorporate some mobility back into it.  I did squats yesterday with some light weight and it was sore all day today.  So I didn't go to the gym.  I rested.

But I hit a bit of an emotional wall today.  Full blown panic.  How am I going to lose the last 14 pounds before summer so I can feel confident in my shorts again without being able to train?  Really train?!

So I'm back to this blog.  It helped me work through my shit before.  It may annoy some people.  For that I'm sorry.  Block me, do what you gotta do.  But I'm gonna do what I gotta do.  This has been a major set back for me.  And I have been proud of how I have dealt with all of it.  But I could use a little more help at the moment. 

BandWagon

A recent discussion has me upset.  I know it wasn't anyone's intention to upset me.  They probably  have no idea I was upset.

But I was.

My husband posted a link on my Facebook page regarding fasting.  It's also been called the 5:2 Diet.  The diet is basically that for 2 days you fast.  The other days you eat your normal food and you will lose weight.  I think it's something about resetting your metabolism, or maybe detoxing.  I'm not entirely sure.  I haven't even read up on it.  His older brother started this diet and lost weight on it.  I don't know if his brother did it because he felt he needed to lose weight (he didn't) or if there was some other purpose.  But Bob has been mulling it over for awhile.  (I also don't think Bob needs to lose any weight either, so there's that).  But I have made it very clear that I am not at all interested.  My initial gut response when he first brought it up is that it is a crash type of diet.  Any time you dramatically slash your calories like that you are bound to lose some weight.  But can that weight loss be maintained if you ever return to semi regular eating habits?  Since I clearly cannot maintain eating 600 calories 1-2 days for the rest of my life this seems like a horrible idea.  Plus I have honestly messed with my metabolism so much with the eating disorder and all the previous crash diets I have been on that it will be amazing if it ever recovers at all.

I was annoyed that I already told Bob how I felt about it.  So I kind of feel like he isn't respecting my process or journey to keep on me about it.  And in all honesty, the more he pushes the more I dig my feet in.  But the entire discussion, if I'm being honest with myself, is upsetting because it makes me doubt myself.  I have come so far.  I have learned so much.  And my New Years Resolution has been to stop counting every single calorie (this does not mean a free for all, I know what whole and healthy foods I need) but to eat more intuitively.  I haven't every really learned how to listen to my body.  Eat when I'm really hungry and more importantly stop when I'm not.  I honestly think my penance for hating my body so intensely, the lesson I still haven't fully learned is how to trust myself....how to love and accept myself just as I am. 
 
So this conversation has gotten me all riled up.  Because I don't want to be on a diet ever ever ever again.  I'm really glad if it worked for you.  But it won't work for me.  Even if it does help me quickly shed some pounds.  I can't live like that anymore.

Tis the Season

These:

They are called Thumbprints and my Grandma used to make them every Christmas.  And they are my favorite cookies ever.  EVER.  And my mom now makes them every Christmas.  These cookies are complicated for me because not only are they the BEST COOKIE EVER (have I mentioned they're my favorite?) they remind me of my Grandmother. 

I haven't yet uploaded the recipe to find out the damage on these bad boys, but I walked into the kitchen last night and saw 5 butter wrappers discarded.  Oh no.  Somewhere in my mind I convinced myself that 2-3 a night if I trained really really hard would not do that much damage.  And maybe I'll plug it in to My Fitness Pal and still find that.  But something about those butter wrappers tells me that it will be even worse then I thought. 

I know life is all about balance.  But when it comes to sweets, I'm a little like a crack addict.  I don't balance it well at all.  One cookie turns into 10 cookies.  Almost every time.  In fact I have 3 last night.....before they were even done.  They are little and delicious and my mouth is watering just thinking about them. 

So there will be no cookies until Christmas Eve. Or at least, this is my goal.  At some point along my journey, my will was much more absolute.  I was a machine.  But stalled weight loss and not reaching my goal took a tole on me.  I started making calorie counting just as sick as the bulimia.  I obsessed.  In a really unhealthy manner.  So my challenge is now how to keep myself accountable without obsessing.  But I'm a crack addict.  Or a cookie addict.  Tomato or tomata really at this point, because they will both kill me early.  An addict's an addict. 

I can do this.  I just have to avoid the kitchen for 3 days. No biggy....

Making Choices

I made good choices yesterday.

Not perfect ones.  But good ones.

I had 2 Lindt white chocolate balls.  Because they are the best things ever and sitting at work staring at me.  But then I walked a mile and a half during my lunch break.  This started out at penance for the chocolate balls, but turned out to be a really helpful pick me up in the middle of the day.

Then I was running errands and STARVING.  I literally walked up to a donut shop that I saw while walking into another store.  I must have looked like a crazy person deciding whether or not to go in.  But I haven't had a donut since we moved from Minnesota.  Why would I pick up that splurge again?  Giving it up hasn't made an ounce of difference in my weight.  But it's been emotionally healthy for me not to indulge and then kill myself at the gym all in the name of donuts.

Then we went to Grant's Christmas concert where there was cake afterward.  Normally I would have a hard time focusing on anything else because I want cake!!  I asked Bob if he wanted to split a piece (they were small pieces in all fairness).  He left me more of the cake part because I'm not a frosting girl, and I took a bite deciding to consciously  enjoy my few bites of cake.  But it didn't taste good.  I don't know if it's the cake or if it's because I'm a bit pickier about my indulgences these days but I gave the rest to Grant.

I felt really proud of myself.  I wasn't perfect.  But I made some solid choices that I felt good about.  That's what it's all about right? Progress not perfection?

Training With Lance

So part of my sub training is to take a bazillian classes at the club I want to teach at to inundate myself with the style and skills of the other instructors.  This mainly means I have been taking classes at 5:45 am or on Saturdays since I work during all the other day times.  And they don't have a lot of evening classes, so hopefully that's where I can find my own niche.

But I have been kind of dying to take Frank's class.  Frank trained on the same team as Lance Armstrong.  THE Lance Armstrong. 

Yes, I know.  Turns out he's a bit of a cheater. But performance enhancing drugs or not, he's a strong athlete.  Frank is bad ass.  Trained with the best of the best.  Olympic trials.  Racing teams. 

And I got to take his class.

It was a great class!  I tried to just absorb everything he was saying.  Which was harder then one would think because it was a seriously tough ride.  But I was proud of myself for getting through it.  And even prouder of myself for having enough guts to introduce myself.  "Great! I will definitely use you!"

WHAT?  Really?  But I still have weight to lose!  I don't look like you do!  I'm just a mom who loves to work out....how in the hell does a guy who rode with Armstrong think that I could sub for him?

 I always assume that people won't take me seriously until I get the rest of this stubborn weight off.  And sometimes that happens.  Sometimes some judgy bitch (and not the one in my head) gives me the up and down look and I know what she's thinking.  In my healthier moments I tell her she doesn't know anything about me or how far I have come.  Other times I believe her look.

But this guy seemed to take me seriously.  I think I need to really take myself seriously.