Today I thought about food. All. Day. Long.
I'm pretty sure it's because I was hungry. All. Day. Long.
This is my problem. I'm pretty sure that I have a food addiction and most likely a deep down addictive personality. That's scary to think about. I don't know a whole lot about food addiction, I haven't really done any research, but I think I understand addiction fairly well. I got a very real understanding of how it works when I was on intense prescription pain medication after the accident. I don't remember exactly what dose I was on (I'm pretty sure it was a lot), but I wasn't able to take morphine because it made me itchy and Demerol made me sick, so I was on Oxycontin and Oxycodone in both drip form (initially) and pills later on. I was in some serious pain, and that was some serious, scary medicine. Eventually as I was healing I didn't need quite so much medicine, so the doctors started stepping down my dosage, and that's when I learned what withdrawal felt like.
For me, I knew it was time for my medicine because my arms started to twitch and I couldn't control it. I would shake them out to get the feeling to go away, but it often wouldn't. It was this weird discomfort that only went away after I took my medicine. The last thing in the world I needed was to get addicted to narcotics. With my parents help I started to ween myself off of the medicine, going from (something like) two pills twice a day, to one twice a day, to one a day, to a half a day, and so on. When it got really bad it would feel like I had little bugs crawling under my skin and I would hug myself tightly to try to make it go away. I've heard that this feeling is your body searching for the drug in your system. I'm glad that I was able get myself off the medicine as quickly as I did, because that experience was not fun at all. Even now though, almost 9 years later, every once and awhile my arms will still get that uneasy twitchy feeling when my legs start to hurt.
With food it's never been that bad, but I did experience headaches when I first did my Whole 30 challenge and cut out sugar, grains, and dairy. I'm sure that others have that experience when they cut out caffeine. I've never been much of a coffee or soda drinker, but that's what I've heard. What I see as the addiction from a food perspective is how much it can take over my thoughts. Before I used to drive down a street that had pretty much every fast food place known to man. As soon as I started my drive home I would start to think about something I wanted to eat. At every place on the street I had a "go-to" favorite. Baja fish tacos at Long John Silver's, McDonald's double cheeseburger and a sweet tea, Bojangles fries and a sweet potato pie, Taco Bell cheesy gordita crunch. I would go back and forth from one bad choice to another all the way through my 30 minute drive until I finally decided on the thing I wanted most, and I really wouldn't be satisfied until I got it. And this was all before I had dinner. Disgusting, right?
During the first two weeks of my Whole 30 challenge I still felt like this and actually changed the way I drove home so I wouldn't pass these places. It really did help. Once I got the "drugs" out of my system, that voice that told me how much I wanted those bad foods slowly got fainter to the point where I had to strain to make out what it was saying, not that I wanted to hear it anymore. I wasn't always focused on what I wanted to eat because I ate good foods often that fulfilled me and fueled me. I would still "think" that I wanted something bad, like a cupcake...but I wasn't obsessing over these foods like I used to. I was doing really well until I started to add bad foods back into my diet.
Your body has a memory. You can train it to forget, but deep down it always remembers. When I took the sugar away, for a while I still thought a lot about eating sugary things, the same way that my arms will twitch when I'm in pain because my body wants medicine. Eventually the thoughts quieted down, until I made a bad choice. The first time I put sugar back in my body it was all "Oh hey, we remember this! Must. Have. More!" Sigh. The strange thing is, my body's memory is sometimes better than my own. When I started putting bad things back in my body I felt terrible. I got headaches, and stomach cramps, and felt weak and dizzy, and just completely and utterly crappy. If this was the way I was feeling all the time before, I never really knew it. The food drugs were keeping me in a constant state of suck that became what normal felt like for me. I didn't realize how crappy my old normal felt until all of those feelings came back. Unfortunately I don't always remember (or think too much about) how terrible I felt the last time I ate something I shouldn't have.
This is I guess part of the addiction. I only think about the immediate satisfaction of shutting down the sugar voice, and not about how I'm going to feel later. Even though I know that it's not good for me as a diabetic, it's basically poison, I will eat it anyway. It's a vicious cycle.
The best part of doing the Whole 30 challenge was that it gave me an acute awareness of how food was having an effect on my body. Just like when I realized what the pain medicine was doing, I began to correlate the headaches to the sugar, or the stomachache to the cheese that I ate. The worst part about a food addiction though is that you can't avoid all food. I could avoid alcohol, or tobacco, or pain medicine, but I have to eat. Sometimes, like recently, I get to where I know that if I'm not prepared or if I don't plan ahead I won't have the foods that I need to eat or be able to make a good choice. So I make no choice instead. I don't eat, or I barely eat. This is just as bad as eating bad food because it freaks my body out and thinks it's starving and I think about bad food all day long. All the way to the Metro..."Ooh, I bet Starbucks has some good muffins, maybe I could get something at the corner bakery, or if I take a left here there's a Burger King and I can get an ice cream, Oh. You know what would be really good, Safeway cookies - but I don't want to eat a whole box, maybe I can just buy one or give the rest to a neighbor." Seriously. That was my internal dialogue on the way home today.
I don't always shut down the voices. Today I did. I came home and made bacon and kale. I've still thought a few times about going back out for one of those things, but as of yet I'm still holding strong.
October 1st is the start of a "Back to Basics" plan for me. I have a goal of losing 100 total pounds by New Years Eve. 3 months away and a little more than 10 pounds each month to lose. They say if you fail to plan, you plan to fail (or something like that). This is true for me.
Here's my plan:
1. Find things to make ahead for breakfast so that I will eat breakfast.
2. Pack my lunch.
3. Drink more water.
4. Take my medicine and fish oil every day.
5. Hit mobility and hit it hard.
Here's to an awesome October and to shutting down the little voices.
Monday, October 1, 2012
Saturday, September 29, 2012
1% Inspiration?
Thomas Edison said "genius is 1% inspiration and 99% perspiration." I think he was misquoted. It should say "Crossfit" not "genius." Or maybe "life."
I have heard the words "inspiration" and "inspiring" more in the last few months than I have in my entire life. I have heard them in my direction more than I ever expected. More, actually, than was comfortable at times. Being an inspiration was not really a role that I signed up for, but it's one that I have since embraced with a little help from my friends.
I think that there is inspiration everywhere we look. I find inspiration in people, music, theater, dance, nature...sources of inspiration are all around. I think having inspiration is essential in our lives. It helps create an external force for the inward drive you long to express. For me, I have been inspired by people who have qualities I lack. People that are physically capable of things that I could only dream possible. Dancers, singers, CrossFitters. I am amazed by the skill and talent of these kinds of people whose confidence and drive allow them succeed in life, reach for their goals, and realize their dreams.
When I started CrossFit it was because driving by Brickhouse every day, stealing glances through the door at everyone throwing around heavy weight and running and pushing the prowler, I saw the kind of person I wanted to be in all those athletes. I wanted to run, and lift, and be strong and powerful. I was inspired to take that first step and try to be like them. I entered the door with the sole purpose of changing my life, for me. Very selfishly. I had no preconception of making friends, or changing others, or being an inspiration.
But I did. And I didn't really realize it. After 90 days of CrossFit, I found that I felt safe and welcomed and comfortable enough with my fellow athletes to post pictures of my transformation on our Facebook page. I described it as my "most mortifying at-school-in-your-underpants nightmare come true." I used to get incredibly uncomfortable even letting a doctor see me without a shirt on, and here I was in just a sports bra and capris for all to see. The old me would have never done that. The new me sat with my finger on the submit button for almost an hour as it was. I rarely would let anyone see a fully clothed picture of me. Call it shame, embarrassment, whatever. I tried to be as unnoticeable as possible to avoid teasing and bullying - what was I thinking putting myself out there like that?
I began to realize what a change these people were having on me when the support and love and encouragement began to pour in from the comments on this picture. I was called "amazing" and "beautiful" and "an inspiration." Not what I expected at all, but it felt amazing and beautiful and inspiring. How was it possible that this feeling could be so mirrored? How is it that I inspired all these people that inspired me so much?
Being an inspiration was a difficult concept for me. I really wasn't comfortable with that label...and it seemed like a lot to live up to. What if I fail? Will I let everyone down? Am I going to be uninspiring at some point? Then what? I didn't fully understand how me struggling through WODs and barely lifting anything heavy and not being able to do things that everyone else could do was possibly inspiring to everyone. I talked about this a lot with my coach, Amanda, and finally began to think things over and realize what everyone else was seeing.
Everyone has struggles. I saw it during the finals of our Garage Games at Brickhouse. Our top female athletes in the final RX WOD all hit a wall in a different part of the challenge. One was stuck on squat cleans, one on toes-to-bars, one on rope climbs, one on handstand push-ups. These were the ladies that always seem to power through everything thrown at them, many of them are coaches. I saw them struggle through these movements, never giving up, with such grit and determination. Others may have been defeated and thought "I'm so far behind, this weight is too heavy, this is NEVER going to happen" and would have quit. But they didn't. I found this struggle to be incredibly inspiring. If the strongest girls at Brickhouse can hit a wall and still keep pushing against it, so could I. The next time I found myself barely unable to do one more push-up, I was going to remember how many times Tressa got back up on the bar with her hands ripped and bleeding. Then I realized, maybe this is how I am inspiring others.
When I started CrossFit I weighed 353 pounds, I hadn't been active in years, I had recovered from breaking both legs, I was full of fear, and EVERYTHING was difficult. I look back in my WOD book and realize that my first week or two I was barely doing anything close to the prescribed WOD. Maybe one round of a bastardized version of what everyone else was doing, at a 10th of the weight, and most of the time I had to sit down and rest after only a few reps. But I did keep getting back up and trying. I still get tunnel vision during WODs and rarely finish before anyone else so I sadly don't always get to see how hard others are working. But they saw me. They saw that I was struggling and hitting walls, but not giving up. They saw that I was making progress, and changing, and becoming more confident. Even if I hadn't yet seen it. And just like I found this perseverance inspiring in others, they found the same in me.
I've always wanted to do something important with my life, to make a difference, to live a worthwhile life. Even more so after my accident. Inside my left wrist, in a place where I can always see it, I have a tattoo. It is a Chinese symbol that means "unique." The two characters that make up the symbol stand for "only" and "special." I chose this statement because it helped me to recover and deal with the survivors guilt I was feeling to remember that there is only one Ginny. I must have been saved for a unique purpose. There was something I still needed to do with my life. The tattoo is the charge to myself to find that purpose and live it. I am beginning to think that I may be on to something. If I can be an inspiration to others by changing my life and they in turn change theirs, what a worthwhile thing to do. It's not as hard to hear "you're an inspiration" any more. I am proud to be called an inspiration, and my heart swells every time I hear it.
I think that the 1:99 ratio of inspiration and perspiration is all part of that symbiotic relationship between the inspired and the inspiring. Your 99% perspiration, drive, hard work, dedication may just be the thing that fills the 1% for someone else. You just need to have someone, or something, to fill your own 1%, and that is how we become complete. You really never know who you might be inspiring.
I have heard the words "inspiration" and "inspiring" more in the last few months than I have in my entire life. I have heard them in my direction more than I ever expected. More, actually, than was comfortable at times. Being an inspiration was not really a role that I signed up for, but it's one that I have since embraced with a little help from my friends.
I think that there is inspiration everywhere we look. I find inspiration in people, music, theater, dance, nature...sources of inspiration are all around. I think having inspiration is essential in our lives. It helps create an external force for the inward drive you long to express. For me, I have been inspired by people who have qualities I lack. People that are physically capable of things that I could only dream possible. Dancers, singers, CrossFitters. I am amazed by the skill and talent of these kinds of people whose confidence and drive allow them succeed in life, reach for their goals, and realize their dreams.
When I started CrossFit it was because driving by Brickhouse every day, stealing glances through the door at everyone throwing around heavy weight and running and pushing the prowler, I saw the kind of person I wanted to be in all those athletes. I wanted to run, and lift, and be strong and powerful. I was inspired to take that first step and try to be like them. I entered the door with the sole purpose of changing my life, for me. Very selfishly. I had no preconception of making friends, or changing others, or being an inspiration.
But I did. And I didn't really realize it. After 90 days of CrossFit, I found that I felt safe and welcomed and comfortable enough with my fellow athletes to post pictures of my transformation on our Facebook page. I described it as my "most mortifying at-school-in-your-underpants nightmare come true." I used to get incredibly uncomfortable even letting a doctor see me without a shirt on, and here I was in just a sports bra and capris for all to see. The old me would have never done that. The new me sat with my finger on the submit button for almost an hour as it was. I rarely would let anyone see a fully clothed picture of me. Call it shame, embarrassment, whatever. I tried to be as unnoticeable as possible to avoid teasing and bullying - what was I thinking putting myself out there like that?
I began to realize what a change these people were having on me when the support and love and encouragement began to pour in from the comments on this picture. I was called "amazing" and "beautiful" and "an inspiration." Not what I expected at all, but it felt amazing and beautiful and inspiring. How was it possible that this feeling could be so mirrored? How is it that I inspired all these people that inspired me so much?
Being an inspiration was a difficult concept for me. I really wasn't comfortable with that label...and it seemed like a lot to live up to. What if I fail? Will I let everyone down? Am I going to be uninspiring at some point? Then what? I didn't fully understand how me struggling through WODs and barely lifting anything heavy and not being able to do things that everyone else could do was possibly inspiring to everyone. I talked about this a lot with my coach, Amanda, and finally began to think things over and realize what everyone else was seeing.
Everyone has struggles. I saw it during the finals of our Garage Games at Brickhouse. Our top female athletes in the final RX WOD all hit a wall in a different part of the challenge. One was stuck on squat cleans, one on toes-to-bars, one on rope climbs, one on handstand push-ups. These were the ladies that always seem to power through everything thrown at them, many of them are coaches. I saw them struggle through these movements, never giving up, with such grit and determination. Others may have been defeated and thought "I'm so far behind, this weight is too heavy, this is NEVER going to happen" and would have quit. But they didn't. I found this struggle to be incredibly inspiring. If the strongest girls at Brickhouse can hit a wall and still keep pushing against it, so could I. The next time I found myself barely unable to do one more push-up, I was going to remember how many times Tressa got back up on the bar with her hands ripped and bleeding. Then I realized, maybe this is how I am inspiring others.
When I started CrossFit I weighed 353 pounds, I hadn't been active in years, I had recovered from breaking both legs, I was full of fear, and EVERYTHING was difficult. I look back in my WOD book and realize that my first week or two I was barely doing anything close to the prescribed WOD. Maybe one round of a bastardized version of what everyone else was doing, at a 10th of the weight, and most of the time I had to sit down and rest after only a few reps. But I did keep getting back up and trying. I still get tunnel vision during WODs and rarely finish before anyone else so I sadly don't always get to see how hard others are working. But they saw me. They saw that I was struggling and hitting walls, but not giving up. They saw that I was making progress, and changing, and becoming more confident. Even if I hadn't yet seen it. And just like I found this perseverance inspiring in others, they found the same in me.
I've always wanted to do something important with my life, to make a difference, to live a worthwhile life. Even more so after my accident. Inside my left wrist, in a place where I can always see it, I have a tattoo. It is a Chinese symbol that means "unique." The two characters that make up the symbol stand for "only" and "special." I chose this statement because it helped me to recover and deal with the survivors guilt I was feeling to remember that there is only one Ginny. I must have been saved for a unique purpose. There was something I still needed to do with my life. The tattoo is the charge to myself to find that purpose and live it. I am beginning to think that I may be on to something. If I can be an inspiration to others by changing my life and they in turn change theirs, what a worthwhile thing to do. It's not as hard to hear "you're an inspiration" any more. I am proud to be called an inspiration, and my heart swells every time I hear it.
I think that the 1:99 ratio of inspiration and perspiration is all part of that symbiotic relationship between the inspired and the inspiring. Your 99% perspiration, drive, hard work, dedication may just be the thing that fills the 1% for someone else. You just need to have someone, or something, to fill your own 1%, and that is how we become complete. You really never know who you might be inspiring.
Thursday, September 27, 2012
Bent But Not Broken
Nutshell Back Story: In 2004 I was in a pretty bad head-on car accident and broke my left hip, left femur, right femur, and right tib/fib. I have orthopedic hardware (rods) in both legs as a result - one in my left femur from knee to hip, one in my right femur from knee to hip, and one in my right lower leg from knee to ankle.
I've been having some pretty intense pain in my left leg below my knee since the end of August. I'm gonna blame what I call "Epic Squat Week 2012." This week included 20 odd 80lb back squats, Nancy (lots of overhead squats), and several rounds of air squats. The leg was having none of this, and has continued to angrily protest all squatting activity since. I'm not positive this was the "Outbreak Monkey" but I think it's a pretty good candidate.
Even at my heaviest, squats were never really all that difficult for me. I surprised myself with my squatting ability, especially since it was at least 4 years after my accident before I did squatting of any kind on purpose. Squats didn't start out difficult, but a couple times my knees, or the associated tendons surrounding them, would start to rebel against being put to work.
I've tried several different things to help with the pain. Foam rolling, lacrosse balling, ice, heat, elevation, anti-inflammatory medicine, rest... nothing seemed to help much, or for very long. Pain is frustrating as is feeling like you have limits. After my accident there was a list of "can't do's" that stretched out for miles. Can't walk, can't stand, can't shower, can't use the bathroom on my own, can't sleep on my stomach, can't get dressed standing up, can't kneel, can't squat, can't skip, can't run, can't get up off the floor... As I healed most of the "normal" activities I had relearn or learn a modified version until I was strong enough to go back to the normal way. Like transferring out of bed to a wheelchair, transferring to a toilet chair or shower chair, getting dressed sitting on a bed, walking (yes I had to learn to walk again), balancing, etc. CrossFit has helped me erase every other "can't" including running, which I thought would NEVER be possible again. You can imagine the utter frustration that comes when you've made the strides to regain your abilities, only for another injury to take them away or make them difficult again. Or maybe you can't? It sucks.
I finally gave into the pain and sought out a sports medicine orthopedic specialist thinking surely he would understand more than a family doctor what an athlete goes through and would be able to help me overcome this injury. After a short exam and several x-rays (I'm surprised that I'm not radio-active at this point, seeing as how I've been x-rayed at least 50 times, probably more) the doctor proclaimed his diagnosis of patellar tendinitis. Apparently when the trauma surgeons inserted the rod in my left leg following the accident they did so through the patellar tendon, which ultimately caused scarring on the tendon. Scar tissue tends to not stretch as well as the rest of the tendon so he thinks that all of the squatting I've been doing in CrossFit has caused the irritation to my tendon.
The first step to healing is to have the diagnosis. The next is treatment. His suggestion was to avoid squatting. "Forever?" I asked, "or just for awhile?" He went on to explain why coaches think that squats are important and said that for athletes like football players who have to take on other football players that are training intensely it would make sense for an athlete like that to try to train on an equal footing with his competitor. But if that isn't the case, there are other ways to work on your leg muscles without squats. Are there any other "exercise programs" that appeal to me? Um, no.
But it's not just an exercise program, I protested. CrossFit is my sport, I'm a CrossFit athlete. What am I supposed to do if I can never squat again? I nearly started crying in front of a stranger (not a totally foreign behavior for me) but managed to hold it together as the doctor laid out the possibility of re injury, ruptured tendons, and chronic tendinitis. All of which didn't sound like very fun things to go through. I think he finally caught on that I wasn't ready to hang up my Nanos and offered me a prescription for anti-inflammatory medicine and a Cho-Pat strap and suggested friction massages as well as laying off the squatting for awhile. All of this was what I had expected and could live with this plan of action, but the little voice in the back of my head kept wondering, what if he's right, what if I'm going to become a "can't girl" again?
After talking with my coaches and my Mom, I think I've made up my mind that quitting CrossFit is not the solution. As my Mom said, tendinitis won't kill you. I've got a pretty high tolerance for pain and I've been through more than my fair share. This is but a road bump on the journey and hopefully many other things will get stronger as I focus on them instead of squats.
I was broken once, and not only physically. I am stronger now, reinforced with titanium and courage. A wise bearded man once told me, "you aren't broken, you're just in pain. Everyone who works out is in some sort of pain now and then." No doubt that sitting out of some of my favorite movements over the next few weeks going to be excruciating, but this too shall pass, and I plan to emerge on the other side stronger than ever.
I've been having some pretty intense pain in my left leg below my knee since the end of August. I'm gonna blame what I call "Epic Squat Week 2012." This week included 20 odd 80lb back squats, Nancy (lots of overhead squats), and several rounds of air squats. The leg was having none of this, and has continued to angrily protest all squatting activity since. I'm not positive this was the "Outbreak Monkey" but I think it's a pretty good candidate.
Even at my heaviest, squats were never really all that difficult for me. I surprised myself with my squatting ability, especially since it was at least 4 years after my accident before I did squatting of any kind on purpose. Squats didn't start out difficult, but a couple times my knees, or the associated tendons surrounding them, would start to rebel against being put to work.
I've tried several different things to help with the pain. Foam rolling, lacrosse balling, ice, heat, elevation, anti-inflammatory medicine, rest... nothing seemed to help much, or for very long. Pain is frustrating as is feeling like you have limits. After my accident there was a list of "can't do's" that stretched out for miles. Can't walk, can't stand, can't shower, can't use the bathroom on my own, can't sleep on my stomach, can't get dressed standing up, can't kneel, can't squat, can't skip, can't run, can't get up off the floor... As I healed most of the "normal" activities I had relearn or learn a modified version until I was strong enough to go back to the normal way. Like transferring out of bed to a wheelchair, transferring to a toilet chair or shower chair, getting dressed sitting on a bed, walking (yes I had to learn to walk again), balancing, etc. CrossFit has helped me erase every other "can't" including running, which I thought would NEVER be possible again. You can imagine the utter frustration that comes when you've made the strides to regain your abilities, only for another injury to take them away or make them difficult again. Or maybe you can't? It sucks.
I finally gave into the pain and sought out a sports medicine orthopedic specialist thinking surely he would understand more than a family doctor what an athlete goes through and would be able to help me overcome this injury. After a short exam and several x-rays (I'm surprised that I'm not radio-active at this point, seeing as how I've been x-rayed at least 50 times, probably more) the doctor proclaimed his diagnosis of patellar tendinitis. Apparently when the trauma surgeons inserted the rod in my left leg following the accident they did so through the patellar tendon, which ultimately caused scarring on the tendon. Scar tissue tends to not stretch as well as the rest of the tendon so he thinks that all of the squatting I've been doing in CrossFit has caused the irritation to my tendon.
The first step to healing is to have the diagnosis. The next is treatment. His suggestion was to avoid squatting. "Forever?" I asked, "or just for awhile?" He went on to explain why coaches think that squats are important and said that for athletes like football players who have to take on other football players that are training intensely it would make sense for an athlete like that to try to train on an equal footing with his competitor. But if that isn't the case, there are other ways to work on your leg muscles without squats. Are there any other "exercise programs" that appeal to me? Um, no.
But it's not just an exercise program, I protested. CrossFit is my sport, I'm a CrossFit athlete. What am I supposed to do if I can never squat again? I nearly started crying in front of a stranger (not a totally foreign behavior for me) but managed to hold it together as the doctor laid out the possibility of re injury, ruptured tendons, and chronic tendinitis. All of which didn't sound like very fun things to go through. I think he finally caught on that I wasn't ready to hang up my Nanos and offered me a prescription for anti-inflammatory medicine and a Cho-Pat strap and suggested friction massages as well as laying off the squatting for awhile. All of this was what I had expected and could live with this plan of action, but the little voice in the back of my head kept wondering, what if he's right, what if I'm going to become a "can't girl" again?
After talking with my coaches and my Mom, I think I've made up my mind that quitting CrossFit is not the solution. As my Mom said, tendinitis won't kill you. I've got a pretty high tolerance for pain and I've been through more than my fair share. This is but a road bump on the journey and hopefully many other things will get stronger as I focus on them instead of squats.
I was broken once, and not only physically. I am stronger now, reinforced with titanium and courage. A wise bearded man once told me, "you aren't broken, you're just in pain. Everyone who works out is in some sort of pain now and then." No doubt that sitting out of some of my favorite movements over the next few weeks going to be excruciating, but this too shall pass, and I plan to emerge on the other side stronger than ever.
Wednesday, September 26, 2012
What is Courage?
This may sound like one of those urban legends that gets passed around from person to person. My cousin knew a guy who said... I actually heard it from my freshman "Great Works" professor when he assigned us a paper comparing The Iliad, All Quiet on the Western Front, and Louis L'Amour's The Walking Drum. Nevertheless, the story goes like this:
A professor assigns a paper entitled "What is Courage?" Student turns in the assignment with nothing written except, "This Is." Student gets an A. I always thought the better answer would have been to write out the entire Cowardly Lion speech from The Wizard of Oz. But that's just me.
Courage is defined (by Dictionary.com - because really, who quotes Webster any more?) as the quality of mind or spirit that enables a person to face difficulty, danger, pain, etc., without fear.
This is my journey. My journey is about changing my life, finding my strength, becoming a me I can be proud of, overcoming obstacles, eating like a Caveman, and CrossFit. But mostly it's about courage.
The past 5 months have been a bit of a whirlwind. I started this journey in April 2012 by taking a courageous first step into the world of Brickhouse CrossFit and with it came of the highest highs and lowest lows I've experienced. Success, failure, pain, struggle, joy. I've lost weight, gained strength and confidence, made some of the greatest friends ever, became an athlete... and then I had to move away. I had been thriving in this strange new world and was happier than I had been in at least 20 years but, even though I had planned on it all along, my dream world was about to be ripped out from under me by the obligation to move for my job. I knew this was coming when I started CrossFit, but I hadn't really mentally prepared for it to happen when it did, or as quickly as it did. Or that being a Brickhouse athlete would change me as profoundly as it did. I never imagined that working out would make me a part of such a rich community of the most amazing people that I would be devastated to leave behind. Don't get me wrong, the move has been an amazing opportunity and I really am grateful to have it, but I have had a hard time reconciling the fact that making that one change in my life would make me have to give up all the other parts that seemed so ideal.
I wish that I was more courageous, or that it came easier, but nothing worth having is easy. The struggle makes the success sweeter. Every new step requires every ounce of courage I can muster. New city, new apartment, new job. Taking that first step into a new CrossFit box where no one knows my name or knows how far I've come since April. No one there who knows exactly when to come over and tell me "you've got this." No one to keep me accountable for the choices I make. No one to kill bugs for me. Living alone tests your courage more than anything. It wouldn't be so bad, if it weren't so lonely.
Each day gets a little better, but I don't miss my friends any less. Facebook is great to keep people connected, but there is also a built in element of cruelty. I am so thankful that everyone from Brickhouse is still there for me when I don't feel strong enough on my own, but the kind words, smiles, and cyber hugs just aren't as good as the real thing. I cherish them all the same. I am trying hard to make new friends and summon the courage I had to do so at the beginning of my journey. I am hopeful that I'll find great people here too and visit the ones at home as often as I can.
My spirit definitely took a blow when I had to make so many drastic changes to the life I had been building for myself, but wallowing in self-pity and longing for what used to be will never allow me to continue on my journey. I'll still cry when I'm lonely, but hopefully writing here and reaching out into the universe will help me deal with all of the stress and loneliness and make the load a little lighter until my courage builds up to a level that allows me to face all the difficulty without fear.
I am strong. I am powerful.
I can fly with my own wings. (Thanks Amanda, I adore this statement.)
I discovered these things with the help of everyone at Brickhouse and now it's time for me to own it.
A professor assigns a paper entitled "What is Courage?" Student turns in the assignment with nothing written except, "This Is." Student gets an A. I always thought the better answer would have been to write out the entire Cowardly Lion speech from The Wizard of Oz. But that's just me.
Courage is defined (by Dictionary.com - because really, who quotes Webster any more?) as the quality of mind or spirit that enables a person to face difficulty, danger, pain, etc., without fear.
This is my journey. My journey is about changing my life, finding my strength, becoming a me I can be proud of, overcoming obstacles, eating like a Caveman, and CrossFit. But mostly it's about courage.
I wish that I was more courageous, or that it came easier, but nothing worth having is easy. The struggle makes the success sweeter. Every new step requires every ounce of courage I can muster. New city, new apartment, new job. Taking that first step into a new CrossFit box where no one knows my name or knows how far I've come since April. No one there who knows exactly when to come over and tell me "you've got this." No one to keep me accountable for the choices I make. No one to kill bugs for me. Living alone tests your courage more than anything. It wouldn't be so bad, if it weren't so lonely.
Each day gets a little better, but I don't miss my friends any less. Facebook is great to keep people connected, but there is also a built in element of cruelty. I am so thankful that everyone from Brickhouse is still there for me when I don't feel strong enough on my own, but the kind words, smiles, and cyber hugs just aren't as good as the real thing. I cherish them all the same. I am trying hard to make new friends and summon the courage I had to do so at the beginning of my journey. I am hopeful that I'll find great people here too and visit the ones at home as often as I can.
My spirit definitely took a blow when I had to make so many drastic changes to the life I had been building for myself, but wallowing in self-pity and longing for what used to be will never allow me to continue on my journey. I'll still cry when I'm lonely, but hopefully writing here and reaching out into the universe will help me deal with all of the stress and loneliness and make the load a little lighter until my courage builds up to a level that allows me to face all the difficulty without fear.
I am strong. I am powerful.
I can fly with my own wings. (Thanks Amanda, I adore this statement.)
I discovered these things with the help of everyone at Brickhouse and now it's time for me to own it.
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