Right now, my body is telling me that it's pissed.
Too little sleep, too much activity. Too much goddamn arthritis and not enough medical assistance. Useless Doctors.
I didn't work out today. I trained three classes, and had little runs with two of the three, but I didn't go to the gym. My back hurts, I pulled something weird in my neck yesterday doing shoulder press and my knees are screaming.
I am not listing excuses. I am not.
(that repitition is more for me than to convince you).
I struggle with backing off. I am good at going balls to the wall. I am not good at saying hey this isn't feeling right perhaps I will rest.
I am good at telling people to never push through pain. I do it anyways. I tell people how important rest days are, but I struggle with taking them. The teacher is always the worst student.
There is a difference though between finding an excuse and listening to your body. I often need some quiet space to really listen- we are so busy and distracted and distanced from our physical selves we rarely just listen... The only thing we seem to be fully connected to is our smartphones. Everytime THAT makes any noise, we jump and dive towards it. When the body makes a noise, we ignore and keep going.
I am super tired today, so if that makes no sense I apologize. My 5 year old had another nightmare and the only cure for that apparently is sleeping on my head, then I was up at 4 for work. No amount of coffee will save me today.
So. Due to my brain function or lack of and my pain in various places, I will take today off. Maybe a nice yoga flow to loosen things up and calm my monkey mind, but not a hardcore leg workout that was scheduled. And I will TRY not to beat myself up all day. TRY.
I am not weak. I am listening to my body cues. I am not slacking, I am honoring my physical body with what it needs.
I am still not convinced.
Friday, April 17, 2015
Sunday, April 12, 2015
Jesus
I don't hate Jesus. There seems to be a prevailing belief amongst the more devout people I know that I do dislike him immensely. Or God or religion in general. That is not the case.
I admire people who can fully devote themselves to anything. I also admire belief in something of which there is zero tangible evidence.... I also wonder at some of them.
I am not sure about Jesus. Leaning towards disbelief. Yet when the shit hits the fan, I pray. Sure I do. I don't like that about myself. My logical everyday brain questions it all but when I am skidding across the ice on a winter day into oncoming traffic, I pray my babies will be safe. Wtf.
I grew up in a house that went to church on Sunday and prayed before meals. I remember my first boyfriends father asking me why I beleived. I didn't have an answer. That was the first time in my life I felt really, really stupid because I had no answer. I had never met an athiest and had never considered WHY. I believed because my parents did. I believed because I was supposed to.
I stopped going to church after that. I got married in a Catholic church the second time becuase my husband wanted to and I didn't care. Just one more thing I've done to make other people happy. I wanted an easy, laid back beach wedding. I got a wedding bigger than my first one.... but we do things for other people all the time. It's what he wanted so whatever. It is what it is. The irony lies in the fact that my husband is now the biggest athiest you will ever meet. And one of the loudest- which is how he is with everything. Most people go to rehab and find God- he went and lost him.
My issue with religion doesn't lie in the ideals. I think anything that makes people be kinder to each other is good. I know many wars have been fought in the name of beiefs- I mean everyday type kindess. Forgiveness and all that. My issue lies in the elitism that seems to come with the very religious. The snooty "club" of church and the inability to associate with others. Like hey you haven't drank the Kool aid so you aren't good enough to hang out with.
I swear a lot in real life. It's part of my charm lol. I don't go around killing puppies or punching people in the face, so I think I am a pretty good person. I try to practice being a better person every day. Does this not fall in line with the super religious? Or do they just prefer to hang with thier own kind? I don't get it. I'd love to have a conversation with a Muslim and a Catholic and a yogi. That sounds like the start of a joke doesn't it? Except only the Catholic would walk into a bar, then talk about the the rest of the drinkers. Just kidding- I am basing that assumption on the few that I know. But it fits. The shiny-ness of the new type churches freaks me out. What are they trying to hide with the disco balls and flashing lights and rock bands? Why is there so much flash to draw people in? I am jaded I get that- but I always wonder what they are hiding.
I find the common threads of religions fascinating. Surrendering to higher power- giving it to God- releasing the issues we cannot control. I love that. My sister in law once said "the Lord helps those who helps themselves" in response to my Father in law saying "The Good Lord provides". I agree with her. I work for things. I make shit happen. I don't believe in passively waiting for someone to save you- God, Allah or Prince Charming. Save your damn self. Don't pray for money to fall into your lap, or for the answer to your problem- go out and make money. Get a goddamn job and stop having kids you can't afford.
I understand that when someone says "I'll pray for you", mostly they mean it from a good place. A place of caring and compassion. Still, some part of me wants to tell them to fuck off. Irrational I know.
But don't pray for me. Offer solid assistance if you truly care about my well being- listen to me. Give me a hug.
Go to church- love God. Or don't. I really don't care. But don't exclude everyone else becuase you think you are better. It's just like people who eat Paleo. You aren't better. Stop the need to always be better than everyone. Be better than you were yesterday. It's not about anyone else, or anyone else beliefs. We all hurt, we all bleed, we all love. Just becuase I don't Thank a man in the sky everytime I eat doesn't mean I don't deserve to be heard and loved and considered.
I admire people who can fully devote themselves to anything. I also admire belief in something of which there is zero tangible evidence.... I also wonder at some of them.
I am not sure about Jesus. Leaning towards disbelief. Yet when the shit hits the fan, I pray. Sure I do. I don't like that about myself. My logical everyday brain questions it all but when I am skidding across the ice on a winter day into oncoming traffic, I pray my babies will be safe. Wtf.
I grew up in a house that went to church on Sunday and prayed before meals. I remember my first boyfriends father asking me why I beleived. I didn't have an answer. That was the first time in my life I felt really, really stupid because I had no answer. I had never met an athiest and had never considered WHY. I believed because my parents did. I believed because I was supposed to.
I stopped going to church after that. I got married in a Catholic church the second time becuase my husband wanted to and I didn't care. Just one more thing I've done to make other people happy. I wanted an easy, laid back beach wedding. I got a wedding bigger than my first one.... but we do things for other people all the time. It's what he wanted so whatever. It is what it is. The irony lies in the fact that my husband is now the biggest athiest you will ever meet. And one of the loudest- which is how he is with everything. Most people go to rehab and find God- he went and lost him.
My issue with religion doesn't lie in the ideals. I think anything that makes people be kinder to each other is good. I know many wars have been fought in the name of beiefs- I mean everyday type kindess. Forgiveness and all that. My issue lies in the elitism that seems to come with the very religious. The snooty "club" of church and the inability to associate with others. Like hey you haven't drank the Kool aid so you aren't good enough to hang out with.
I swear a lot in real life. It's part of my charm lol. I don't go around killing puppies or punching people in the face, so I think I am a pretty good person. I try to practice being a better person every day. Does this not fall in line with the super religious? Or do they just prefer to hang with thier own kind? I don't get it. I'd love to have a conversation with a Muslim and a Catholic and a yogi. That sounds like the start of a joke doesn't it? Except only the Catholic would walk into a bar, then talk about the the rest of the drinkers. Just kidding- I am basing that assumption on the few that I know. But it fits. The shiny-ness of the new type churches freaks me out. What are they trying to hide with the disco balls and flashing lights and rock bands? Why is there so much flash to draw people in? I am jaded I get that- but I always wonder what they are hiding.
I find the common threads of religions fascinating. Surrendering to higher power- giving it to God- releasing the issues we cannot control. I love that. My sister in law once said "the Lord helps those who helps themselves" in response to my Father in law saying "The Good Lord provides". I agree with her. I work for things. I make shit happen. I don't believe in passively waiting for someone to save you- God, Allah or Prince Charming. Save your damn self. Don't pray for money to fall into your lap, or for the answer to your problem- go out and make money. Get a goddamn job and stop having kids you can't afford.
I understand that when someone says "I'll pray for you", mostly they mean it from a good place. A place of caring and compassion. Still, some part of me wants to tell them to fuck off. Irrational I know.
But don't pray for me. Offer solid assistance if you truly care about my well being- listen to me. Give me a hug.
Go to church- love God. Or don't. I really don't care. But don't exclude everyone else becuase you think you are better. It's just like people who eat Paleo. You aren't better. Stop the need to always be better than everyone. Be better than you were yesterday. It's not about anyone else, or anyone else beliefs. We all hurt, we all bleed, we all love. Just becuase I don't Thank a man in the sky everytime I eat doesn't mean I don't deserve to be heard and loved and considered.
Saturday, April 11, 2015
No broccoli before Yoga.
I went to a conference today. This one actually had really interesting sessions I was excited to go to, where in years past I have dragged myself and barely stayed awake. I LOVE professional development but sometimes... Snore. It was a good day.
I sat in one lecture and felt a desire I haven't felt in a long time. Not anything dirty- like 80% of the attendees were chicks- but the desire to know EVERYTHING. The presenter was talking about nutrition and supplements and how the body works and I suddenly wanted to know absolutely everything he was talking about. In my next life, I will get a doctorate in Sports Medicine. In this life, I will read I guess.
There is so much to know, and it all takes time. And money. And comprehension.
I have none of those it seems.
I have been trying to finish a nutrition cert for months. Even when I have the time to study, which is never, my brain doesn't work like it used to. University was easy for me. I could work a lot and party a bit and it didn't affect my grades. Now... nothing sticks. My brain is full, or not working, or just plain tired. Everyone told me pregnancy brain wasnt as bad as having-kids-brain. I now agree.
The combination of age and kids and the overly busyness of life has deteriorated my nerons. You know what else? I actually had to sound out that word deteriorated. And backspace. And retype.
THREE TIMES.
But busy is a state of mind. I spoke to one presenter today who I am lucky to know in real life, and who I admire both professionally and personally. She has 4 boys, runs an amazing business and seems to have her shit completely together. Her life is crazy busy. But she never seems frazzled. She is calm when you ask her how llife is. She is collected and cool and gorgeous.
Sometimes I let my frazzle spill out my mouth in a verbal diarreha of rant. My life is somewhat busy, but I have lots of quiet times too. Lots of times with my family and some times to myself. Compared to some, the schedule is insane. Compared to others, it's calm. But comparisions don't matter- it's my state of mind and my ability to handle all that I have on my plate. Sometimes, that ability is nonexistent.
I also got to do a Yoga flow as a session. It reminded me how out of practice I am. My yogi said if you don't practice yoga, you have no business teaching yoga. That is me right now. In my quiet space I realized how pissed I am at my body for not working. For being broken and not allowing me to do what I think I should, or what I used to be able to do. So I avoid yoga. I avoid confronting the demons and dealing with my limitations.
The irony is that as part of my intro to a yoga class, I tell them to let go of these things. Let go of the expectations, the cristicms and stop shoulding all over themselves.
I struggle with the same struggles as my students. Does that mean I am not a good teacher? Maybe. Does that mean I am ok with my imperfections? No. But maybe being aware of them is enough. Maybe it's an ongoing battle- against comparision with others and self. Against those 7 Deadly Sins I only know because Brad Pitt was in a movie about them....
I am aware. Sometimes I am less aware. Again, yoga woke me up. Taking that time to let everything else just fall away and make space in my head....
I sound like a hippie and that's ok. Yoga. Do it.
I sat in one lecture and felt a desire I haven't felt in a long time. Not anything dirty- like 80% of the attendees were chicks- but the desire to know EVERYTHING. The presenter was talking about nutrition and supplements and how the body works and I suddenly wanted to know absolutely everything he was talking about. In my next life, I will get a doctorate in Sports Medicine. In this life, I will read I guess.
There is so much to know, and it all takes time. And money. And comprehension.
I have none of those it seems.
I have been trying to finish a nutrition cert for months. Even when I have the time to study, which is never, my brain doesn't work like it used to. University was easy for me. I could work a lot and party a bit and it didn't affect my grades. Now... nothing sticks. My brain is full, or not working, or just plain tired. Everyone told me pregnancy brain wasnt as bad as having-kids-brain. I now agree.
The combination of age and kids and the overly busyness of life has deteriorated my nerons. You know what else? I actually had to sound out that word deteriorated. And backspace. And retype.
THREE TIMES.
But busy is a state of mind. I spoke to one presenter today who I am lucky to know in real life, and who I admire both professionally and personally. She has 4 boys, runs an amazing business and seems to have her shit completely together. Her life is crazy busy. But she never seems frazzled. She is calm when you ask her how llife is. She is collected and cool and gorgeous.
Sometimes I let my frazzle spill out my mouth in a verbal diarreha of rant. My life is somewhat busy, but I have lots of quiet times too. Lots of times with my family and some times to myself. Compared to some, the schedule is insane. Compared to others, it's calm. But comparisions don't matter- it's my state of mind and my ability to handle all that I have on my plate. Sometimes, that ability is nonexistent.
I also got to do a Yoga flow as a session. It reminded me how out of practice I am. My yogi said if you don't practice yoga, you have no business teaching yoga. That is me right now. In my quiet space I realized how pissed I am at my body for not working. For being broken and not allowing me to do what I think I should, or what I used to be able to do. So I avoid yoga. I avoid confronting the demons and dealing with my limitations.
The irony is that as part of my intro to a yoga class, I tell them to let go of these things. Let go of the expectations, the cristicms and stop shoulding all over themselves.
I struggle with the same struggles as my students. Does that mean I am not a good teacher? Maybe. Does that mean I am ok with my imperfections? No. But maybe being aware of them is enough. Maybe it's an ongoing battle- against comparision with others and self. Against those 7 Deadly Sins I only know because Brad Pitt was in a movie about them....
I am aware. Sometimes I am less aware. Again, yoga woke me up. Taking that time to let everything else just fall away and make space in my head....
I sound like a hippie and that's ok. Yoga. Do it.
Sunday, April 5, 2015
Deactivation
Yet another chocolate holiday- Easter. I admit, I drank a bottle of wine last night and pounded some Eggies. I am ok with it. I didn't plan to eat off track today or tomorrow anyways. The trick is to eat enough that you feel slightly sick at the sight of those little eggs the next day.. mission accomplished.
I left Facebook. I know. Shocking. I've blogged about social media before, and my opinions, as well as my issue and obsession with those little red notifications. I figured out a way to manage my business page and then deleted my personal account. THE FREEDOM!! I thought I would miss it. I thought I would feel left out- but I don't. I thought it would be like quitting smoking and consume my thoughts... turns out I care a lot less about the inane details of others lives far less than I originally thought.
I have more time. I have played more with my kids in the last two weeks than in the 3 months before. This morning I helped my kids look for hidden chocolate eggs rather than trying to take the perfect pictures to post. I didn't see the hundreds of pics posted of other people's egg hunts, or the perfect mom's handmade easter shit that makes me feel less than. I simply experienced the event with my kids. Only we did- and didn't have to share it with 400 people so they could feel part of my family when they aren't.
I have missed some stuff. I have heard "oh didn't you see that post?" a dozen times when people tell me things and I have no idea what they are talking about. I have recieved numerous panicked text messages asking why I deleted or blocked them (including my mom lol). I've had a lot of people ask me why, and say they miss me which is lovely- but it's not like I have been asked to hang out so the missing can't be that bad.
So why? It boils down to a cost benefit ratio.
Is the cost greater than the benefit?
I do this with friends and people in my life also. It sounds callous, but sometimes we need to simplify life. Is this person (or in this case Facebook) adding to my life more than it's taking away? If the answer is no, it's in a negative balance. I simply won't allow for negative balances.
Life can be harder than just deleting a FB account. Sometimes the ties are strong and it's not as simple as clicking Deactivate for people in your life that are sucking you dry. But it should be.
It's more difficult to deactivate family members, and friends that are imbedded in your life. I've been "deactivated" and it hurts. As I get older, I realize that it has less to do with me not being enough, and more to do with the relationship simply not working for the other person. I struggle with that often- rejection. I repeat that "don't take anything personally" agreement at least 5 times a week. I love the 4 Agreements. Sometimes you need to rip out that cancer and deactivate the relationship, or the app, or the job, or the life choices. How can we grow other wise? No one ever said personal growth was easy.
If it isn't working for you, why keep doing it??
Footnote- you know I don't care what you do. I'm not judging or telling you to delete anything. This was the right choice for me and my family. You decide what the right choice is for you and yours. As always, just trying to give people things to think about and create dialogue.
Peace and love <3 and balance. Always balance.
I left Facebook. I know. Shocking. I've blogged about social media before, and my opinions, as well as my issue and obsession with those little red notifications. I figured out a way to manage my business page and then deleted my personal account. THE FREEDOM!! I thought I would miss it. I thought I would feel left out- but I don't. I thought it would be like quitting smoking and consume my thoughts... turns out I care a lot less about the inane details of others lives far less than I originally thought.
I have more time. I have played more with my kids in the last two weeks than in the 3 months before. This morning I helped my kids look for hidden chocolate eggs rather than trying to take the perfect pictures to post. I didn't see the hundreds of pics posted of other people's egg hunts, or the perfect mom's handmade easter shit that makes me feel less than. I simply experienced the event with my kids. Only we did- and didn't have to share it with 400 people so they could feel part of my family when they aren't.
I have missed some stuff. I have heard "oh didn't you see that post?" a dozen times when people tell me things and I have no idea what they are talking about. I have recieved numerous panicked text messages asking why I deleted or blocked them (including my mom lol). I've had a lot of people ask me why, and say they miss me which is lovely- but it's not like I have been asked to hang out so the missing can't be that bad.
So why? It boils down to a cost benefit ratio.
Is the cost greater than the benefit?
I do this with friends and people in my life also. It sounds callous, but sometimes we need to simplify life. Is this person (or in this case Facebook) adding to my life more than it's taking away? If the answer is no, it's in a negative balance. I simply won't allow for negative balances.
Life can be harder than just deleting a FB account. Sometimes the ties are strong and it's not as simple as clicking Deactivate for people in your life that are sucking you dry. But it should be.
It's more difficult to deactivate family members, and friends that are imbedded in your life. I've been "deactivated" and it hurts. As I get older, I realize that it has less to do with me not being enough, and more to do with the relationship simply not working for the other person. I struggle with that often- rejection. I repeat that "don't take anything personally" agreement at least 5 times a week. I love the 4 Agreements. Sometimes you need to rip out that cancer and deactivate the relationship, or the app, or the job, or the life choices. How can we grow other wise? No one ever said personal growth was easy.
If it isn't working for you, why keep doing it??
Footnote- you know I don't care what you do. I'm not judging or telling you to delete anything. This was the right choice for me and my family. You decide what the right choice is for you and yours. As always, just trying to give people things to think about and create dialogue.
Peace and love <3 and balance. Always balance.
Friday, March 20, 2015
Hell
Today is our 5 year Anniversary. For many, 5 years is nothing. 5 years is just the start- the romance is faded, maybe young kids, maybe settling into a groove, maybe setting up for the 7 year itch, maybe coming into a deeper relationship. But not much. For those married 10, 15, 20 or longer- 5 years is a blink.
For us it's a big freaking deal.
I rarely post about my marriage, mostly because my husband asked me not to, but I need to get this out today.
I titled this post "Hell". You're are probably thinking Im nuts, or gone off topic as I tend to do, but hell is directly related to our anniversary.
We've been through hell. I don't mean we have fought and had issues deciding who would be in charge of cleaning this, or paying that, or if the kids can have screen time or dealing with job stress or money stress or home stress. We've done all that too. I mean absolute hell. When the bottom falls out and the only thing holding you to life is the little person who is completely reliant on you.
My husband was drunk for the first 2 years of our marriage. And longer in his life of course... I can't even explain the events of those years. I have to some people- the not knowing what was going to set him off, the not knowing where he was or how much he'd spend or when he would be home. The fear of going to a movie with friends and not knowing what to expect when I got home. The fights and tears and lies and manipulation. The feeling of being completely crazy and out of control and scared ALL THE TIME. That was my life. With a baby. And then with 2 babies.
I have been called lots of things and judged by a lot of people for not leaving. Mostly when I got pregnant the second time. I have had many judgements passed; friendships lost. I am codependent- that is without question. I write this out partly because maybe someone will read it and realize that being with an addict isn't black and white. It's not just leave and split up- it's so many shades. I see friends divorcing all over and while their journey is not mine and their reasons are their own- I have come through the other side.
We went to counselling. While he drank and then when he was sober. I thought if he got sober that it would be magical. I didn't realize the dark year that would follow. I was grateful and proud of him- but I was also filled with resentment. It was poison. And I didn't realize that he was full of resentment for ME... which made me hate him. WTF did I do? I held it together so you could fall apart so fuck YOU.
In his first year of sobriety, I took a trip to Vegas and left the kids with him. We were not in a good place but I just needed a break. I needed some peace after the war of the last few years. I completely panicked on the plane. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't stop crying. Yeah he was sober now, but maybe this was the weekend he would drink again. With my kids. What had I done... I opened up my laptop and just randomly started typing. Yes as I bawled- I am sure the person across the aisle from me thought I was batshit crazy. And I was....
I still can't bring myself to read what I typed. I saved it just in case but everytime I think about opening the file I feel a lump in my throat and my breathing start to constrict. It scares me.
I have loved him. And hated him. And everything else in between. I think the scariest part of our marriage was when I just didn't give a shit anymore. That is a place hard to get back from, but we did.
That is my point. We did. Our relationship is still hard. I would never say we have an easy marriage. We aren't easy people. He works his program but still has the underlying issues. I try to work on myself, but as a codependent I have my own. We are finally starting to work together. After 5 years and 2 kids. It can be done.
There were many times I thought it would be easier to start over. I was probably right, but when have I EVER done what is easier.
For us it's a big freaking deal.
I rarely post about my marriage, mostly because my husband asked me not to, but I need to get this out today.
I titled this post "Hell". You're are probably thinking Im nuts, or gone off topic as I tend to do, but hell is directly related to our anniversary.
We've been through hell. I don't mean we have fought and had issues deciding who would be in charge of cleaning this, or paying that, or if the kids can have screen time or dealing with job stress or money stress or home stress. We've done all that too. I mean absolute hell. When the bottom falls out and the only thing holding you to life is the little person who is completely reliant on you.
My husband was drunk for the first 2 years of our marriage. And longer in his life of course... I can't even explain the events of those years. I have to some people- the not knowing what was going to set him off, the not knowing where he was or how much he'd spend or when he would be home. The fear of going to a movie with friends and not knowing what to expect when I got home. The fights and tears and lies and manipulation. The feeling of being completely crazy and out of control and scared ALL THE TIME. That was my life. With a baby. And then with 2 babies.
I have been called lots of things and judged by a lot of people for not leaving. Mostly when I got pregnant the second time. I have had many judgements passed; friendships lost. I am codependent- that is without question. I write this out partly because maybe someone will read it and realize that being with an addict isn't black and white. It's not just leave and split up- it's so many shades. I see friends divorcing all over and while their journey is not mine and their reasons are their own- I have come through the other side.
We went to counselling. While he drank and then when he was sober. I thought if he got sober that it would be magical. I didn't realize the dark year that would follow. I was grateful and proud of him- but I was also filled with resentment. It was poison. And I didn't realize that he was full of resentment for ME... which made me hate him. WTF did I do? I held it together so you could fall apart so fuck YOU.
In his first year of sobriety, I took a trip to Vegas and left the kids with him. We were not in a good place but I just needed a break. I needed some peace after the war of the last few years. I completely panicked on the plane. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't stop crying. Yeah he was sober now, but maybe this was the weekend he would drink again. With my kids. What had I done... I opened up my laptop and just randomly started typing. Yes as I bawled- I am sure the person across the aisle from me thought I was batshit crazy. And I was....
I still can't bring myself to read what I typed. I saved it just in case but everytime I think about opening the file I feel a lump in my throat and my breathing start to constrict. It scares me.
I have loved him. And hated him. And everything else in between. I think the scariest part of our marriage was when I just didn't give a shit anymore. That is a place hard to get back from, but we did.
That is my point. We did. Our relationship is still hard. I would never say we have an easy marriage. We aren't easy people. He works his program but still has the underlying issues. I try to work on myself, but as a codependent I have my own. We are finally starting to work together. After 5 years and 2 kids. It can be done.
There were many times I thought it would be easier to start over. I was probably right, but when have I EVER done what is easier.
Monday, March 16, 2015
That evil whore- The Scale
I run a Nutrition Challenge as part of my job. Don't worry- I am qualified. I've spent years reading, researching and taking courses. I am almost done another cert course... if my kids ever leave me along long enough to study and take the test. I think it's funny I thought a month ago that I could do a diploma through online correspondence. HA!
I digress.
As part of the challenge we do a weigh in. No mandatory, but client feedback says they like the accountability. It's one of the most hated parts of my job. Hauling out the scale, recording the number, watching dreams die and self esteem evaporate. Seeing the faces fall when that number doesn't go down, hearing the excuses when it actually goes UP.... the hope goes away and the faces crumble.
It kills me. And not just because I have my own issues with that bastard number (less issues than before which is good because I never ever thought I'd weigh 150lbs and be mostly ok with it) but because I sometimes run out of things to say. It's like when an aquaintince has someone die. If it's a bestie you cry along then start pouring the wine. If it's someone you barely know, it's awkward. Should I hug you? Should I say it's ok when it clearly isn't? I hate platitudes. I also hate being mean when people are upset.
When they are ok, I have no issues being extrememly forthright. Oh you can't lose weight and you're convinced that you have metabolic damage because you saw an article on facebook last week? No. Get out of your kids fries at McDonalds. Stop skipping workouts. Be HONEST with yourself GODDAMMIT.
But when I see that sad puppy look and realize how much emotional attachment this person has to that fucking number... is it the time to say these things? I just can't do it. Maybe that makes me bad at my job. Maybe that is THE time for it to sink in. Sigh.
I struggle with so many parts of my job right now. This is just the one that is in my head right now. I have gorgeous, fit moms looking to "drop that last 10 lbs". I just can't do that to them. I can't take them down that road.... because I know where it goes. Why do they need to be less? WHY do we not see ourselves as we are??? We are innundated with pictures of fit moms. Moms with full abs. Fitness women are all over my social media accounts (my fault for following and having those interests I guess) so I see lean women all over. It skews my perception of what I should and want to look like. What is feasible for me to look like, without being that crazy bitch I once was. I don't want this for them.
I digress.
As part of the challenge we do a weigh in. No mandatory, but client feedback says they like the accountability. It's one of the most hated parts of my job. Hauling out the scale, recording the number, watching dreams die and self esteem evaporate. Seeing the faces fall when that number doesn't go down, hearing the excuses when it actually goes UP.... the hope goes away and the faces crumble.
It kills me. And not just because I have my own issues with that bastard number (less issues than before which is good because I never ever thought I'd weigh 150lbs and be mostly ok with it) but because I sometimes run out of things to say. It's like when an aquaintince has someone die. If it's a bestie you cry along then start pouring the wine. If it's someone you barely know, it's awkward. Should I hug you? Should I say it's ok when it clearly isn't? I hate platitudes. I also hate being mean when people are upset.
When they are ok, I have no issues being extrememly forthright. Oh you can't lose weight and you're convinced that you have metabolic damage because you saw an article on facebook last week? No. Get out of your kids fries at McDonalds. Stop skipping workouts. Be HONEST with yourself GODDAMMIT.
But when I see that sad puppy look and realize how much emotional attachment this person has to that fucking number... is it the time to say these things? I just can't do it. Maybe that makes me bad at my job. Maybe that is THE time for it to sink in. Sigh.
I struggle with so many parts of my job right now. This is just the one that is in my head right now. I have gorgeous, fit moms looking to "drop that last 10 lbs". I just can't do that to them. I can't take them down that road.... because I know where it goes. Why do they need to be less? WHY do we not see ourselves as we are??? We are innundated with pictures of fit moms. Moms with full abs. Fitness women are all over my social media accounts (my fault for following and having those interests I guess) so I see lean women all over. It skews my perception of what I should and want to look like. What is feasible for me to look like, without being that crazy bitch I once was. I don't want this for them.
Wednesday, February 25, 2015
Vacation Crazy
We are going on a family beach vacation in 7 days.
I am kid-like excited. I haven't had a beach holiday in 2 years and Dear husband, camping with the kids to the local lake does NOT count.
Normally before a vacation I would diet. A LOT. I would do drastic things like cut out carbs and drink dandelion tea and eat pounds of asparagus everyday. I would add in killer amounts of cardio. I have even taken fat burners and ephedrine among other things. Shocking I know.
This was normal for me for years. I get it's disordered and I get its not normal by any stretch. I can't even speak of the fucked up stuff I did before my first beach holiday with my ex. It boggles my mind now.
I haven't done any of those things this time, but with a week left, I am starting to panic a little. I always eat asparagus because I love it but I found myself adding more of it and less of the rice into my meal today. Without consciously doing it. This shit goes deep my friends.
I find myself planning extra workouts in my head. Hmmm if I change this around then I can do an extra boxing session and that will eliminate a rest day.... The fucked up thing is I need my rest days. I go 7 days a week and I don't walk- and not in that awesome I -killed-my-legs-way. The bad My-lumbar-spine-is-totally-fucked-with-arthritis way.
Logical me knows not a ton can change in a week. I could drop water sure. Short of starting an illegal burner or surgery, I am not going to lose much in a week. I still panic. I have spent so many years trying to deal with that crazy, yet she remains. Quieter, and more easily shoved down but remains nonetheless.
I recognize my issue. I make attempts to be better. I will train my ass off this week, because I do every week. I will stay on my plan, including all carbohydrates as they are needed for my body to fuel my kickass workouts and recovery. I will rest as needed, as I will require 100% of my brain and body function to deal with my kids on a plane for 5 hours..... and patience. I will need oh so much of that- and we all know how bitchy I get with no carbs and too much cardio.
I'm not saying I am against cutting a bit before an event- a photo shoot (not that I will ever do one again lol but I get it); a wedding etc. For ME, it's not a good pattern. It's a family holiday. I will be wearing a bikini for 7 solid days probably, but at some point I need to accept that I work hard, I look decent and I am enough.
Without bringing back the crazy ;)
I am kid-like excited. I haven't had a beach holiday in 2 years and Dear husband, camping with the kids to the local lake does NOT count.
Normally before a vacation I would diet. A LOT. I would do drastic things like cut out carbs and drink dandelion tea and eat pounds of asparagus everyday. I would add in killer amounts of cardio. I have even taken fat burners and ephedrine among other things. Shocking I know.
This was normal for me for years. I get it's disordered and I get its not normal by any stretch. I can't even speak of the fucked up stuff I did before my first beach holiday with my ex. It boggles my mind now.
I haven't done any of those things this time, but with a week left, I am starting to panic a little. I always eat asparagus because I love it but I found myself adding more of it and less of the rice into my meal today. Without consciously doing it. This shit goes deep my friends.
I find myself planning extra workouts in my head. Hmmm if I change this around then I can do an extra boxing session and that will eliminate a rest day.... The fucked up thing is I need my rest days. I go 7 days a week and I don't walk- and not in that awesome I -killed-my-legs-way. The bad My-lumbar-spine-is-totally-fucked-with-arthritis way.
Logical me knows not a ton can change in a week. I could drop water sure. Short of starting an illegal burner or surgery, I am not going to lose much in a week. I still panic. I have spent so many years trying to deal with that crazy, yet she remains. Quieter, and more easily shoved down but remains nonetheless.
I recognize my issue. I make attempts to be better. I will train my ass off this week, because I do every week. I will stay on my plan, including all carbohydrates as they are needed for my body to fuel my kickass workouts and recovery. I will rest as needed, as I will require 100% of my brain and body function to deal with my kids on a plane for 5 hours..... and patience. I will need oh so much of that- and we all know how bitchy I get with no carbs and too much cardio.
I'm not saying I am against cutting a bit before an event- a photo shoot (not that I will ever do one again lol but I get it); a wedding etc. For ME, it's not a good pattern. It's a family holiday. I will be wearing a bikini for 7 solid days probably, but at some point I need to accept that I work hard, I look decent and I am enough.
Without bringing back the crazy ;)
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