Five years ago, during the month of December, I was in peak training for the Goofy race in Florida.
I was running 80+km a week during those weeks.
I was also doing some cross training, and yoga, and I ran those races with no injuries whatsoever.
Then, I just kinda', quit.
Last year at this time, I signed on to join a relay team to run the Sinister 7 race in the Crowsnest Pass.
I didn't train any where NEAR what I've trained in the past because this was a trail race, and is a totally different beast from a road race.
Everyone referred to me as a "roadie", because my previous running experiences were on pavement.
Trail is so different from road, that it's the same as the difference between swimming and football.
Anyways, I ran my leg of Sin 7. And it was not the kind of performance I'm used to. I did it, but there wasn't as much running as I'd hoped, and it was mentally the most challenging race I'd ever done. But I also didn't come out of that race with a solid resolve to get back to running. I just didn't.
I've had lingering injuries - one, an achilles injury, the other, an ankle injury that's over 9 years old. And because I don't run pain-free, I've been nervous. Apprehensive.
I've wanted to get back into my runners, but it's been a busy year. It's been an exceptionally challenging year.
Y'know when people start posting memes about how the current year can beat it? I always see these pictures, and laugh, and even during my worst years, and believe me, this year wasn't especially kind to us, I think to myself, but the whole year wasn't a total bust. Just some select parts.
Well, loads of the past year have been pretty bunk….
And I have had some low, low periods. And on Sunday, I just felt overwhelmingly grateful, and had more energy and stamina than I'd had all year long. And even though I've been working full time since May, and have felt sorry for myself that I've had to do so, I felt grateful that I've been able to spend almost every single Sunday with my family since May.
Monday came, and because it's the last Monday before my family has two weeks off, it wasn't such a bad day. And I got home from work and picked up the mail and there was a TON of mail for my oldest gal. It had been her 10th birthday, recently. Which is totally crazy, in and of itself. She had some birthday cards, a couple of Christmas cards, and the always recognizable reply from Santa...
She'd written a lengthy letter to Santa, and on her own, had mailed it to the North Pole in early November.
I wasn't expecting a reply because she'd sent it so early. Yet, here was a letter, from the big guy himself, and it was full of pure magic.
Our family dog passed away this summer. Of all of the unfortunate events we've endured this year, by far this was the hardest. And Audrey has taken it very, very hard. There have been many tears, and many memories and in early November, she asked Santa to bring her dog back.
This letter had the regular reply from Santa, and then there was a whole additional page, where he addressed her wish. He told her about how Maverick wasn't in pain anymore, and enclosed a picture of the rainbow bridge. There was a package of sunflower seeds, and instructions to plant them in Mavericks memory, and to plant some every year so she can think of him each time she plants them.
I read it with her, and she and I had a tight hug and some tears. I had an ugly cry. This letter reaffirmed for me that even though lots of things didn't go how I might've liked them to go, there is still so much good to come out of 2019.
And then I laced up my runners.
I miss running. Something fierce.
I've been wearing the runners that carried me 16.7km in the climbs and descents of Sinister 7 as going-around-town shoes, and rather than continue to disrespect them like that for one more day, I laced them onto my feet to take them for a run.
And we ran. Slowly. For 6.5km. I took a few more short breaks than I normally do, but I felt very much like I'd rekindled my relationship with running.
Those old injuries awoke, and reminded me they were there, but like my favorite physiotherapist will say, stress to progress - and so those almost 40 year old ankles of mine gently spoke to me - "be careful", but never became anything more than that.
Once upon a time I was a runner.
But actually, I will always be a runner.
I was born a runner.
I was born on the exact same day Terry Fox passed away. And I think it was put in my heart on that day, and not coincidentally.
Tuesday 17 December 2019
Sunday 10 February 2019
Measuring Success
I've been thinking about a post for sometime now, but I really had no idea how it would come together. See, the bottom line is, I've put on weight since my photo shoot a year ago.
And that's OK.
Here's why:
Post photo shoot my coach and I were planning to have me reverse diet - adding calories back into my days until we found a sustainable number. It just so happened that this was happening during the Crossfit Open - so you can imagine that I was pleased with my results, while competing with a lean body, AND eating extra calories! I was on FIRE! Reversing is absolutely, and without a doubt, much harder than dieting. Dieting is simply math and on some days, discipline. That's it. Reversing, and following that, maintaining, is seriously hard.
Losing weight is addicting. People will be commenting on how great you look, you are going to notice more energy, your clothes fit better, and for me, some of the movements at the gym became easier. It. Is. ADDICTING!
So I followed the plan quite well - I am a people-pleaser, after all - and then in the Fall I noticed that my energy was in the absolute toilet. After a visit to my doctor and some blood work, we found that my TSH levels were elevated, which meant my thyroid was sluggish - and so was my metabolism. Adjusted my medicine, and within a month my lab values had swung hard the other way. Too hard.
I was, and still am, frustrated. I'm frustrated that my body could betray me like that. I worked so hard to create this body, and then sooooooo hard to maintain it, and ultimately, it was working against me.
One step forward, two steps back.
A younger version of me would already be shopping for bigger clothes and be well on the way to gaining 50lbs.
But not this time.
I have gained. My clothes fit, at least most of them, but they're not as comfortable as I like, so I'm doing something about it. I bought myself a journal. I carefully wrote out some short term and long term goals, and then I further broke them down into some goals for this coming week.
The thing is, if you have managed to lose weight, that is not the end of the journey. It is a forever kinda' thing. You will learn tricks and tools and techniques, and if you just continue to adapt them, and know yourself, you WILL be successful. You will.
But you need to have patience, and you need to be kind to yourself.
When I was thinking about writing this one, I couldn't help but consider, what if I was 50lbs heavier? It's not unheard of for someone to put on that kind of weight in a year. Trust me. Would I still be kind to myself? Would I still have this attitude? Would it be OK?
Of course it would.
I cannot give up on myself, and I've decided that I can measure my success any damn way I want to, so I think that not giving up on myself is HUGELY successful. I can reach for some of the tools I've learned, and put them into action, and just as any time before, the results will follow.
I have also learned that gaining weight is not failure. This time around the extra pounds came as a result of a thyroid malfunction, however in past they have come as a result of challenging life circumstances or mental illness, and truth be told, I really feel like any reason is a valid one. Perhaps you stopped caring so much about yourself - but it's because you were too busy caring about someone else. Still a valid reason. Sometimes we need to let ourselves go a little, so we can reach for someone, or something else. Just don't stay there.
The point is, though, that you find yourself recognizing that the place you're at is NOT where you want to be. For many people, they may not have the tools to help themselves.
This is where a nutrition coach will be invaluable. Would you like to learn the tools? Would you like some assistance as you gain your footing? Are you going to need support? A nutrition coach can help you with all of these things - and then some - because if you decide to let go of your coach one day, it's OK to periodically need help again! It's OK! She will be there, with some more of those tools, and perhaps some new ones, and you will not be judged in any way. That's not helpful, and it's not how she rolls.
I'm leaving the link to the absolute greatest nutrition coach, and I encourage you to reach out to her and see the value in yourself. You are worth the investment!
https://motivateandbfit.com/
I am considering myself a success. I just am. And I've already planned for the week ahead, and I'm looking forward to celebrating the positive outcomes with a little bit of shopping!
And that's OK.
Here's why:
Post photo shoot my coach and I were planning to have me reverse diet - adding calories back into my days until we found a sustainable number. It just so happened that this was happening during the Crossfit Open - so you can imagine that I was pleased with my results, while competing with a lean body, AND eating extra calories! I was on FIRE! Reversing is absolutely, and without a doubt, much harder than dieting. Dieting is simply math and on some days, discipline. That's it. Reversing, and following that, maintaining, is seriously hard.
Losing weight is addicting. People will be commenting on how great you look, you are going to notice more energy, your clothes fit better, and for me, some of the movements at the gym became easier. It. Is. ADDICTING!
So I followed the plan quite well - I am a people-pleaser, after all - and then in the Fall I noticed that my energy was in the absolute toilet. After a visit to my doctor and some blood work, we found that my TSH levels were elevated, which meant my thyroid was sluggish - and so was my metabolism. Adjusted my medicine, and within a month my lab values had swung hard the other way. Too hard.
I was, and still am, frustrated. I'm frustrated that my body could betray me like that. I worked so hard to create this body, and then sooooooo hard to maintain it, and ultimately, it was working against me.
One step forward, two steps back.
A younger version of me would already be shopping for bigger clothes and be well on the way to gaining 50lbs.
But not this time.
I have gained. My clothes fit, at least most of them, but they're not as comfortable as I like, so I'm doing something about it. I bought myself a journal. I carefully wrote out some short term and long term goals, and then I further broke them down into some goals for this coming week.
The thing is, if you have managed to lose weight, that is not the end of the journey. It is a forever kinda' thing. You will learn tricks and tools and techniques, and if you just continue to adapt them, and know yourself, you WILL be successful. You will.
But you need to have patience, and you need to be kind to yourself.
When I was thinking about writing this one, I couldn't help but consider, what if I was 50lbs heavier? It's not unheard of for someone to put on that kind of weight in a year. Trust me. Would I still be kind to myself? Would I still have this attitude? Would it be OK?
Of course it would.
I cannot give up on myself, and I've decided that I can measure my success any damn way I want to, so I think that not giving up on myself is HUGELY successful. I can reach for some of the tools I've learned, and put them into action, and just as any time before, the results will follow.
I have also learned that gaining weight is not failure. This time around the extra pounds came as a result of a thyroid malfunction, however in past they have come as a result of challenging life circumstances or mental illness, and truth be told, I really feel like any reason is a valid one. Perhaps you stopped caring so much about yourself - but it's because you were too busy caring about someone else. Still a valid reason. Sometimes we need to let ourselves go a little, so we can reach for someone, or something else. Just don't stay there.
The point is, though, that you find yourself recognizing that the place you're at is NOT where you want to be. For many people, they may not have the tools to help themselves.
This is where a nutrition coach will be invaluable. Would you like to learn the tools? Would you like some assistance as you gain your footing? Are you going to need support? A nutrition coach can help you with all of these things - and then some - because if you decide to let go of your coach one day, it's OK to periodically need help again! It's OK! She will be there, with some more of those tools, and perhaps some new ones, and you will not be judged in any way. That's not helpful, and it's not how she rolls.
I'm leaving the link to the absolute greatest nutrition coach, and I encourage you to reach out to her and see the value in yourself. You are worth the investment!
https://motivateandbfit.com/
I am considering myself a success. I just am. And I've already planned for the week ahead, and I'm looking forward to celebrating the positive outcomes with a little bit of shopping!
Thursday 10 January 2019
Kids & Fitness. Like, Together.
One hour.
One hour is how long my workouts are.
Give or take five minutes, but one hour is not long.
Many, MANY times I've got two or three kids with me.
They often hang out in the kids area, eating snacks and watching Netflix and occasionally screaming or shouting at one another, or me.
I consider it a GIGANTIC perk at my gym, to be able to bring them any old time I might need to.
No charge.
Sometimes they derail my workouts. Sometimes they require my attention at an inopportune time and I have to sacrifice some or all of my workout to tend to them. Sometimes I ask for the music to be turned up, please, so that I don't have to hear them. They've even tried to make a mad dash out the door. Life happens, kids are busy and dependent and that's OK. I don't beat myself up over missed workouts anymore. Take an unscheduled rest day and move on.
Always, my expectations are low, and although I'm doing my best to make sure they're not being a nuisance, I'm quite certain they are.
My oldest daughter has been making comments lately about my body. She tells me she likes my stretch marks, my saggy areas. She tells me my big arms are extra good at hugging.
We have always, always practiced body positivity in our house. It has been important to me since, well, always, that we enforce that it's not OK to talk about other peoples' bodies in a negative way, and personally, I kinda' think that we should just maybe not talk about bodies. Unless we're talking about our own, and how awesome they are, and what they're able to DO, but maybe we just, not, talk about how they look.
I was bullied as a child about my body. I was bullied badly. It sticks with me still, and I'll be damned if any of my kids is a bully, or is a victim of bullying, so not only do we not criticize our own bodies, but we make a point of celebrating what we are capable of, rather than what we look like. We're supposed to work out so our bodies' look a certain way, right? I've certainly trained for a look myself, but truthfully, I'll never give up on other goals. I would like a 200+ back squat. I would like to do butterfly pull ups. I want to be able to kip those damn toes to bar, and I would like to just generally be a better athlete. The looks part is really a secondary goal to all the other stuff. I won't sacrifice training for any look. Ever.
With two daughters who are growing up in what I would consider the most body conscious era ever, thanks to social media, and filters, and I am fighting harder to show them that everyone is different, and has different strengths, but ultimately, we do not talk about how bodies' look.
My youngest will be starting kindergarten in the Fall, and though I have daydreamed of this day for years - when I will be alone at the 9am class EVERY time I go, I will also miss taking him with me. He has seen his Mom be the most consistent, simply because he has never known a pregnant Mom, and lemme tell you, I definitely created a weight loss battle for myself while preggers!
All 3 of my kids have never known anything other than a Mom who works out. It is very, very important to me, mostly because the change in my mental health is tangible, but also because I like being fit enough to still carry my 65lb babes, two stories, to their beds, when they've fallen asleep downstairs.
Our goals as parents is to raise good, kind human beings. If I can instill in them that taking care of their bodies' isn't an option, but something they should enjoy doing, then I feel like I will have assisted them in "leveling up". Be nice. And also lift some heavy shit. And hopefully one day, we will lift heavy shit as a family. And run races together. This is my true dream. 💗💗
One hour is how long my workouts are.
Give or take five minutes, but one hour is not long.
Many, MANY times I've got two or three kids with me.
They often hang out in the kids area, eating snacks and watching Netflix and occasionally screaming or shouting at one another, or me.
I consider it a GIGANTIC perk at my gym, to be able to bring them any old time I might need to.
No charge.
Sometimes they derail my workouts. Sometimes they require my attention at an inopportune time and I have to sacrifice some or all of my workout to tend to them. Sometimes I ask for the music to be turned up, please, so that I don't have to hear them. They've even tried to make a mad dash out the door. Life happens, kids are busy and dependent and that's OK. I don't beat myself up over missed workouts anymore. Take an unscheduled rest day and move on.
Always, my expectations are low, and although I'm doing my best to make sure they're not being a nuisance, I'm quite certain they are.
My oldest daughter has been making comments lately about my body. She tells me she likes my stretch marks, my saggy areas. She tells me my big arms are extra good at hugging.
We have always, always practiced body positivity in our house. It has been important to me since, well, always, that we enforce that it's not OK to talk about other peoples' bodies in a negative way, and personally, I kinda' think that we should just maybe not talk about bodies. Unless we're talking about our own, and how awesome they are, and what they're able to DO, but maybe we just, not, talk about how they look.
I was bullied as a child about my body. I was bullied badly. It sticks with me still, and I'll be damned if any of my kids is a bully, or is a victim of bullying, so not only do we not criticize our own bodies, but we make a point of celebrating what we are capable of, rather than what we look like. We're supposed to work out so our bodies' look a certain way, right? I've certainly trained for a look myself, but truthfully, I'll never give up on other goals. I would like a 200+ back squat. I would like to do butterfly pull ups. I want to be able to kip those damn toes to bar, and I would like to just generally be a better athlete. The looks part is really a secondary goal to all the other stuff. I won't sacrifice training for any look. Ever.
With two daughters who are growing up in what I would consider the most body conscious era ever, thanks to social media, and filters, and I am fighting harder to show them that everyone is different, and has different strengths, but ultimately, we do not talk about how bodies' look.
My youngest will be starting kindergarten in the Fall, and though I have daydreamed of this day for years - when I will be alone at the 9am class EVERY time I go, I will also miss taking him with me. He has seen his Mom be the most consistent, simply because he has never known a pregnant Mom, and lemme tell you, I definitely created a weight loss battle for myself while preggers!
All 3 of my kids have never known anything other than a Mom who works out. It is very, very important to me, mostly because the change in my mental health is tangible, but also because I like being fit enough to still carry my 65lb babes, two stories, to their beds, when they've fallen asleep downstairs.
Our goals as parents is to raise good, kind human beings. If I can instill in them that taking care of their bodies' isn't an option, but something they should enjoy doing, then I feel like I will have assisted them in "leveling up". Be nice. And also lift some heavy shit. And hopefully one day, we will lift heavy shit as a family. And run races together. This is my true dream. 💗💗
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)