I have been toying with new concepts lately, playing my existing strategy over in my mind. I need to shake things up, because, ladies and gents, it’s been tough to stay motivated. Its been a bit of a big ole suckity-suck.
Craptastically Muckerrific. Splediferously Diabismal.
Stress, winter (AUGH! COLD!), and lack of results on my body are giving my Inner Critic Beast plenty of fodder to throw a frickin’ party up in there. Despite not caring about my measurements and weight and such, this keeps echoing in my head every time I look in the mirror –> “I am the same weight I was two months ago. I am the same size I was in August. Nothing is changing. Nothing is working. I am failing.”
It really bites, y’all. I have been running, and working hard on my food portions (well, ‘cept for Christmas… Let’s not go there), and really trying hard to get this $%#@ done. I had hoped to be much lighter by now, in preparation for hauling *$^ over 12 foot walls in May. I had hoped to have less middle, less jiggle, and less fabric covering my tookus. This overshadows my achievements, in my darker moments. It makes me doubt all the work I have put in was effective in any way. Am I targeting the right exercises? Am I sweating enough? Am I doing it right? Do I need to eat less? Do I need to re-work my eating completely?
AUGH! *cue flailing and woe-is-me theatrics*
So, realizing that my attitude needed a kick in the patootie, I have attempted to reconnect into the reasons why I am busting my butt and working so hard. Reconnect to the joy of what I am doing. Re-analyse my eating, recommit to eating healthy, fueling well. *swelling music* I want to kick the Diabetes Beast’s butt. I want to be a good example to my kids. I want to run and play with them. I want to be sexy, and look good naked (Yup, that reason is there too). I want to be able to shop at stores and buy what I want, not what clothing is available in my size. I want to be skinny.
*record scratch* But…
The concept of being thinner, with less jiggle has been a downfall for me. I’ve had two kids, yo. I done got me some baby hips, folks, and they weren’t there when I was in my early 20’s.
That pooch of skin that hangs over my C-Scar? That is never, ever going away, unless I can spring for the surgery to remove it. Those stretch marks that adorn me all the way from my hips to my belly button (and when I squeeze ’em, look like a Shar-pei puppy), Hell, they aren’t going away either. The wee flap of wrinkled skin on the inside of my thighs? Those are here to stay, and receive Body Glide anointment before every run. So looking in the mirror and pulling skin taut, sucking my belly in, looking for that shape I had when I was 21?
WTF am I thinking?
I am not working 6 days a week, 10 hours a day riding crazy race horses and hauling %^& on a farm anymore. That 100 pound body I had then, that could bench my own weight? She isn’t coming back. That girl who could lift a bale of hay and toss it 30 ft, or could out-muscle a freaking-out 2-year-old colt… Well, she was awesome, she rocked, but she was a long time ago. That girl who had unbelievably strong delts so that she couldn’t even carry a purse on her shoulder, it would slide right off? Yeah her… She’s not Me© anymore.
Or is she?
I am embarking on a new mantra, because damn and whoa, that thought hit me like a freight train. Or. Is. She? Who says she has to be gone? She may not ever weigh 100 pounds again (like, ever… Nothankyouverymuch) but she could damn well be that strong again. Who says I can’t lift my weight above my head ever again?
Instead of focusing on getting rid of jiggle, and making myself smaller, I am giving up on that. Yes, you heard me. Gone. %$^@ing GONE! Instead, whenever I finish a workout, I have to say to myself “You just added to your power.” When I finish a super set at the gym, look in the mirror and say “You just added to your strength.” When I think about my goals, I will say “I will get stronger”. When I finish a run, I want to say to myself “You just got better”.
Why stronger, better, faster? Well, I want to be able to lift that bale of hay and throw it 30ft again. I want to be able to run that 30 minute 5k (Eventually, we all know I am snail-paced slow compared to most of my running mates) and I want to be able to finish most of the Spartan Sprint obstacles without having to do a million-zillion burpees. I want to feel powerful, strong, and capable of doing whatever I want.
How am I going to achieve this, other than saying great things, and looking in mirrors? I have no idea where to start. I have given up on trying CrossFit, it has become my husband’s passion, and his 5 to 6 mornings a week have kind of kaiboshed any idea I could put it into a routine since there are no boxes near work. I cannot afford to outlay any cash for a trainer right now, since hubs needs to find a job before we spend any money on anything other than food and bills. I can look up routines, and work hard on what I do know how to do, but somehow it feels like it is not enough. I need to start lifting more, but I am not versed in technique, nor how to progress. I have some knowledge… But it is limited.
So I’m figuring this out as I go. It is a good start. Instead of thinking “Thin”, I am thinking “Strong”. Being strong, getting strong, working strong.
Some women on the Losing It in Ottawa group adopted a word to help set up their year, keep them motivated. A word that means something to them, and gets them out of their comfort zone and pushing for new things, new goals and new PRs. I had thought of some words I could use, but none of them resonated with me. Until now.
This is my word, this year.