Are we there yet?

Remember being younger and your parents tell you you're going on a trip in the car? How long did it take before you were asking "Are we there yet?" According to my mother on trips to visit my grandparents in Quincy, MA about the time we hit the Orleans exit on I91 I was asking if we were there yet. Keep in mind we got on I91 in Newport. I am very surprised I actually lived through my childhood.

I've said it before: I am not a very patient person. When I want something I want it now. I can wait, but I'm not gracious about it.

So let me be honest right now: I want to be "there" in my journey. Not that I'm not enjoying the moments on the journey, I'm trying to at least. I don't even know where "there" is. I used to think being there meant a number on the scale, now I'm not so sure. Now I think there might be the number of pounds I can lift. 600 is a really nice, even number, but what if I can lift more than that?

I'm not sure I should be allowed to have vacation time. Not that it wasn't great getting in an extra group fit class and an extra Yoga Corr class, but when I wasn't working out I was at loose ends. There's a possibility I watched way more "reality TV" than is good for anyone. There's also a good chance that I saw the show "Botched" and several tummy tucks.

The idea is appealing, I'll admit that right now. All the loose skin gone, with liposuction to get rid of some fat. Yes it did show botched tummy tucks, but then the mistakes were fixed. Fortunately I don't have the money to get anything tucked and even if I did I don't like hospitals or surgery. Please...it takes me two years to schedule an annual physical. How likely do you think it is that I'm going to willingly submit to cosmetic surgery??

It's vain, that's another strike against it. Yes, I want a body that looks good in clothes, but it feels stupid, vain and pointless. I have a good idea that no matter what my body looks like I still won't like it. It's hard to like something that looks exactly like it did 60 pounds ago. We've been over that before though, let's not beat that to death again today.

So as intrigued as I was by the idea of "fixing" the body I have now it isn't going to happen. My fix will be much slower and I know there will always be things about my body I don't like and want to change. Even if it looks good to everyone else I'll be hyper focused on the flaws.

So what else did I do during my vacation besides binge watch reality TV? I worked out of course. Nine workouts in one week. It was almost 10, because Friday's group fit class was "Metal Health" and I LOVED it.

Since the Pride Games I've been trying to apply common sense to my workouts. I certainly could have gone back to Pride Fitness Performance on Friday morning for the 9 am class, Tyler might have asked me again if I wanted a part-time job, but he wouldn't have refused to let me participate. I could have flipped the tire, pulled the prowler, squatted with heavy kettlebells and tried to better my time in the finisher gauntlet. Chances are I would have been fine. The thing about that is as much as I am trying not to think too much about it Tough Mudder is coming up. In a little more than a month I will be starting my third Tough Mudder. I really can't afford any injuries right now.

Hauling my butt up and down Mount Snow will be hard, even if I had a tiny, perfect little hard body it would still be hard to haul it up and down the mountain. A good thing about Tough Mudder is when you get to an obstacle you usually get a chance to breathe for a minute or two while you wait your turn. I'm excited to complete the course with my team and I'm nervous. You see, my trainer will be there and I want to make him proud.

There's also my pesky habit of bursting into tears after I cross the finish line. Maybe this year I'll have whoever comes along as support crew carry tissues so I'm not soaking anyone's shoulder. Or I'll do what I did last year and hold it together until I get in the shower then sob to my heart's content with no one the wiser. Okay so those of you on my team who are reading this have now been warned: there will be tears.

Why the tears? If I'm going to cry at any time I should probably cry at the beginning when I think of slogging up and down the mountain for 10-12 miles, not at the end when it's over and I'm not too much worse for the wear. Go back to the title of the blog, I ask myself that question a lot as I move along the course. Mostly because there are points when I'm sure I can't go one more mile or one more foot. The best I can do is put one foot in front of the other and convince myself that I do have one more step. Then there comes the point when the anxiety builds and I can't get in a full breath and it's hard to breathe out. By the time I get to the end of the course I've pushed my body beyond what I ever dreamed it could accomplish. Combine the anxiety, the enormity of the task and the relief it is over and I don't think it's any wonder there are tears.

I'm not there yet, wherever there might be. I don't even have a hazy idea in mind of how I will know when I am "there". As impatient as I am the journey is kind of fun. I've picked up a great crew of people to support and encourage me. I've been lucky to work work with amazing trainers who know how to push me just far enough without pushing me over the edge. I'm leaving behind some of the negative thoughts and voices and other "garbage" that won't serve me while I discover who I really am.

Thanks for reading!