The Dance

Yes, I am in a Garth Brooks kind of a mood. I was fortunate enough to see him in concert in January with a phenomenal group of women I absolutely adore. This post is not about Garth Brooks though, so those of you who might not be huge Garth Brooks fans don't need to disappear. I do have a point, I will get to it...eventually.

Believe it or not there are times that words fail me, that no matter how much I want to put my feelings down I just don't have the words I need to express myself. If you've ever tried to carry on a face-to-face conversation with me the fact that I run out of words isn't a surprise. In fact, some of you may be reading this saying "WELL DUH!!!" Yeah, I'm a heck of a listener, not so good at conversation.

This blog started out solely as the record of the fitness journey I was starting. Along the way I veered off into the journey that is my life. The truth is my fitness journey and my life are hopelessly intertwined. What happens in my life has an impact on my fitness and the energy I devote to it.

I mentioned in my last post that my mind has been going just about nonstop. I decided that I wouldn't go into detail, but I've rethought that position. I might not be much of a conversationalist, but give me a way to write and I will spill my guts every damn time.

I am the queen of too much information when I sit in front of my laptop, some of you reading this know that for a fact. I could apologize, but I'm not planning to stop so there's no sense in saying I'm sorry. I might give you way more information than you ever needed to train me, work with me, or be my friend, but there are benefits. Seriously, there are and when I figure them out I'll get right back to you with them. Kidding, really, I'm kidding. I am rabidly loyal. I am a good listener.

I guess it's time to stop beating around the bush and just put it out there. My father has cancer. I pray for a miracle for him. I feel bad for him, my stepmother, my sister and my nephew. I have felt bad for not going to see him, but the truth is he and I do not have a relationship. That probably sounds like the height of callousness.

I am not that cold or that hard. The fact is we never saw eye to eye on anything. I was a mystery to him, the quiet, moody one. He parented me to the best of his ability, but we were absolutely never close. It's hard to be close to someone who considers it helpful to remind you frequently how fat you are. I'm not rehashing my childhood here, there is no reason and absolutely no point. I love my father, but I do not like him. End of story.

This is why my mind won't stop. Debating the right thing to do. Do I ignore my own feelings and do what feels absolutely wrong? Do I stand up for myself and do what feels right? A friend recently reminded me that the decision is mine to make and whatever I decide is right for me is fine and she supports me.

My workouts aren't just about building strength right now: they are about burning off some of the crazy. They are about pushing my body to the point that the only thing I can focus on is what I am doing in that moment. To avoid the risk of injury I need to focus on only what I am doing

Working out is my escape and my refuge. I am learning to trust. I am learning to listen to my body. I am learning to focus on the moment. I am trying to learn to leave the worry outside the studio door. Someday I hope to see myself the way others see me, not as a nuisance or a colossal pain in the ass.

The journey is passing through some rocky terrain at the moment, but this too shall pass. I will come out on the other side having learned what I needed to learn. If I could go back I would choose to miss this, but there are other things that are happening now, positive things that I would also have to miss. As Garth would sing "I could have missed the pain, but I'd have had to miss the dance". I'm not willing to miss the good just to avoid some pain.

Thanks for reading!

Again?

There have been so many things running around in my mind in the last two weeks. I've spent long nights wishing my mind would shut off . I have walked into my happy place feeling anything but happy. Sure, by the end of the workout I was feeling better and I actually smiled, but I started out wondering why I bothered.

I've debated whether I write about some of what's going on or not. At first I hesitated because I'm not looking for sympathy or anything like that. I am strong, I will move through this too. I might get stuck, I might look like I'm going down, but you can bet that if I go down, I'm not staying down. Now I'm hesitating, because the situation is what it is. Nothing I could write will change it and honestly, it is not that interesting. I'm not that interesting either if you get right down to it. I love to write, there are wonderful people who read what I write, but I am not that special.

What it boils down to is no matter how you try to hide from it change finds you. My life is changing and I am changing. That's causing the most over thinking now, wondering who I am.

I was always the shy one, the quiet one, the invisible one. I'm not really those things anymore. I'll never be the life of the party, I'm still quiet. I'm still shy. Give me a choice between a face-to-face conversation or an email and I'm going for email every time. It's just easier. Sorry to those of my friends who wish I'd just talk to them, but I'm more comfortable with written words. Then I can edit and I don't need to worry about stuttering or forgetting what I wanted to say in the middle of a sentence.

On the fitness front I'm changing too. I know I said here not all that long ago that I was not a runner. I was frustrated and disappointed with myself. I want to run, but I HATE the jiggle. There, I said it. The elephant in the room has now been addressed. I jiggle. My thighs jiggle, my belly jiggles, my arms jiggle. I'm one giant jiggle when I run. Couple the jiggle with my speed which is highly reminiscent of turtles plodding through peanut butter and it's not hard to see why I might decide that I am not a runner, nor will I ever be.

I feel lumpy and dumpy enough. Why the heck would I want to engage in a form of  exercise that lets me feel body parts jiggling, flopping and flapping with every step? I can focus on developing my strength and work on endurance with the rowing machine. Or so I tell myself while the part of me that never wants to back down from a challenge snarls that I'm a quitter.

I'm not a quitter. As much as it pains me, as much as the jiggling will make me wish for a home liposuction kit I will practice, I will jog, maybe someday I will run and not hate my body. Just please, please, please if you see me out there grimly enduring the jiggling, don't tell me to keep up my slow jog. I KNOW I'm not fast, I know I've been lapped by a turtle, but let me hold on to at least one illusion: Let me at least pretend that I'm running. I know comments like that aren't intended to hurt, they are meant as support. I get that and I appreciate the support, but a "keep going" would be just as good.

This body is mine for better or for worse. I don't really like it, in fact, not to put too fine a point on it I hate it. I am working on accepting it, on improving the body I have and celebrating what my body allows me to do. I'm not there yet, I'm a long, long way from there actually.

So...should you see me at Derby Elementary making my way around the track, or at Pride Fitness Performance jogging around the pond feel free to offer me a thumbs up or an "atta girl" or just nod, smile and go on your way. Just please don't mention that herd of turtles behind me who seem to be gaining. I know they're there...I'll outrun them someday.

I am backing away from my statement that I am not a runner. At least now when I run my lower back doesn't seize up and start aching. It's progress, slow though it may be, it is still progress.

Thanks for reading!

Roar

Recovery week time.

A much needed recovery week, to be honest. What I do every week is hard, but I love it. With that said I may as well be honest and admit that this week was not my best. Instead of being excited to work out before I got there it wasn't until I was immersed in the day's workout that I felt any excitement at all. I do know not every workout will be my best performance, but this week was a real struggle.

Yep, I said it. I struggled and I wasn't my best. No excuses, no blame: I am human. I did the best I could, I got good workouts in, but by no means were any of them my best performances.

Oh trust me I could make a million excuses for myself, but excuses don't help. Yes I am tired. I am absolutely sore. Basically my body needs a break from all the things I love. I need a week of walking Abbey and playing with her. I'm hoping to hike with her as well.

Not so long ago I'd have been crushed by a week like this one. There was a moment on Friday, during Chutes & Ladders when I realized I was looking at 15 more burpees, because I wasn't going to finish the ladder in time that I admit I had a momentary breakdown. I put the kettlebells down, hunched up for a moment and cried. Then I remembered that I only needed to do the best I could. If I did burpees I did burpees. If I disappointed my trainer so be it. The only person in that room I had to prove a thing to was myself. At the end of the workout all I wanted to say was that I did the best job I could do and made myself proud. I can say that. I may have had to do 15 burpees after every round, but I. Did. The. Best. I. Could.

So why did I choose the title I did for this post? I need to roar. I used to believe my best course of action was to go through life as silent as possible. If I could fly under the radar everything was perfect and as it should be. There's problem with that: I'm not really a fly under the radar person. It would be easier if I really was, but that doesn't seem to be the case.

I'm not a puppet. I'm not a doormat. I don't need or want to be the center of attention. Roaring doesn't require that I trumpet from the rooftops who I am and what I do. To me roaring is quietly doing what I can do to the absolute best of my ability and letting the rest fall into place.

I am me. If you support that then I welcome you with open arms and for the first time an open heart. If you want me to be your vision of what you expect sorry, I have no time for that. I won't be rude, I won't be mean, but I just can't live life to make anyone else happy.

Thanks for reading!