This post will hopefully be somewhat more uplifting than the last one...but I make no promises. I have the basic idea of what I want to write, but often I find that the idea takes on a life of its own once I start to write. Quite often I get to the end of the post and am as surprised at the direction it took as some of you readers probably are. I'll at least try for entertaining if I can't be uplifting.
I suppose being honest is important too. I don't want anyone thinking this journey is easy. There are times, sometimes months when I wonder what I've done. Yep, having some of those months now. Bear with me, or run screaming for the hills. I wouldn't blame you for taking the second option. I'd run away from me too, but unfortunately you can't ever run away from yourself. It's a silly rule really...I should be able to pick up and leave myself behind any time I want. That's another post...or maybe a sign some therapy would be in order. Hmm...I'll ponder that later.
My title is a nod to the two fitness professionals I've worked most with on this journey. Ben was/is a believer in high fives and I LIVED for them. The end of personal training would come and some times I could barely haul myself up off the mats, but I'd find the energy to get that high five. It meant the world. Tyler prefers the fist bump and I love those just as much as the high fives, except recently. Recently I find myself not wanting any recognition at all. Even a "good form" makes me cringe and want to hide.
I seem to have misplaced my mojo...or it wandered off and got lost. It's not that big, I hope it isn't cold and lonely out there in the world. I'd put up missing posters and offer a reward, but since I don't really know how to take a picture of something that isn't real I'll have to keep looking.
Recently it is all I can do to drag myself out of bed and go work out. Yes, 5:30 am is early and it's often dark and cold, but it is also the time I've been working out for almost 3 years now. So I force myself out of bed, I dress and I drive to the studio and I walk in feeling like one giant open wound. I just want it to be over so I can go home. I don't feel like myself and if I am completely honest: I am not myself. I give it my best effort, but it doesn't feel the same. Everything feels harder, so much harder that I often find myself blinking back tears. There have been tears when the workouts are done, times I sit in the car, wonder why I bothered and why Tyler keeps letting me come. So when buddy training is over I don't feel like I've earned a fist bump or an "atta girl" I just want to slide out unnoticed.
I don't like feeling this way, in fact I hate it. I want to find my mojo, or my spark, or whatever the heck it was that made me keep going.
Friday morning I compounded my issues by stepping on the scale. I really should just chuck the darn thing out the window,after I open it and remove the screen of course. These are nice new windows and they were expensive. I'm pretty sure my mother would throttle me if one got broken.
So here I am Friday morning at 4:30 am already feeling low and I decide to step on the scale? Does anyone else want to know if I have any common sense whatsoever??
Well, the news wasn't good. According to the scale I have gained ten pounds since the last time I weighed myself. TEN POUNDS!?! I am proud of myself for not having a complete meltdown, but I was not a happy camper to put it mildly. I couldn't let that number go through the "Sinister 6" workout or at any other point on Friday.
I would like to note that none of my clothing seems tighter than it was and no one has said "Wow, looks like you're packing on some pounds". Of course, I would hope no one would be rude enough to say that to me, but the possibility does exist it could be said. So I will breathe a small sigh of relief and vow not to get near the scale again for a long time.
I know the scale gives me a number that in no way measures my worth as a person or tells you anything else about me, but OMG. That was NOT what I needed.
I went shopping with two amazing friends yesterday and had time for quiet reflection on the drive home. As much as I don't want to be acknowledged right now, there is a part of me that needs to know what I'm doing right and craves the high five or fist bump. I'm not too proud to admit that even if I don't think I deserve it an "atta girl" makes me feel better about my performance. I'll get back to being intrinsically motivated soon, but for now I need a little more encouragement.
Good thing there is no deadline on this journey, because I seem to have taken some steps backward. I recognize that and I'm not quitting. I'll square my shoulders, gather my will and my wits and trudge forward again. I'm not giving up and I won't go back to where I started.
Fist bumps and high fives all around: we've got this.
Thanks for reading!!
No comments:
Post a Comment