Friday, November 27, 2015

Grateful- Part 2

I wrote the first "Grateful" post in late August and since then it has been on my mind. I was pretty sure while I wrote that post there was another one coming. I was right.

Most of you know I am owned by a Boxer. One of the perks of having Abbey is the need to walk her at least twice a day. On these walks I have ample time to think or talk to myself. 


There are more people I'm grateful to and I'm going to mention them here. There's even a possibility that someone I thanked before could make a second appearance. What can I say? That's just who I am.

As before if anyone who finds themselves on this list and doesn't wish to be mentioned publicly please contact me: I will edit if I need to. I'm not trying to embarrass anyone or make them uncomfortable.

Without further ado...

Hailey- From the first you have been an AMAZING friend. You take me as I am, you let me be angry, completely crazy or totally insecure and you don't think any less of me. You are there to cheer me on, talk me down, or hold me up, sometimes all of the above in the span of a few minutes.

Eric- I've known you since elementary school. You are bar none the BEST man I know. You are one of a small group of men that I trust and turn to for advice time and again. You were the first man to prove to me it was okay to let down my guard and I wouldn’t automatically get hurt.  I can always count on you for your honesty and common sense. I can also count on you to be there to cheer me on when I step out of my comfort zone. You don't even take offense when I tell you to shut up.

Carole- From the day I started at the gym you've been there. You encouraged me to come join you and have helped me make friends. You encourage me to keep going when I want to quit and you inspire me with your own perseverance. You've seen me succeed and you've seen me miss the mark and you stick around.

Sylvie- You really should be charging me for the therapy you provide! You are the calm voice of reason. You gave up most of a weekend to help me move and were the voice of reason when it was time to throw in the towel on the first day. Plus you have amazing style and have helped me pick some great clothes. All that and you cheer me on whenever you can. I want to be you when I grow up, really.

Lisa- You were my first inspiration and you stood beside me when I needed to have important and uncomfortable conversations. You let me vent and just listen. Thank you so much.

Gretchen- What can I say about a woman who gave up most of a weekend to help me move? You are a tireless supporter and such a kind, sweet soul. You encourage me to write and be strong without apologies. You are more excited by some of my accomplishments than I am.

Cheryl- Again…there aren’t enough words to thank you for giving up your weekend during my move. You are the best. During Saturday Morning Sweat I know I can count on you to encourage me and make me feel like I’m killing the workout when it feels a lot more like the workout is killing me. I appreciate your support and kindness more than you can imagine.

Tyler- Yep, you get mentioned again. Thank you for the help when it came time to move. Thank you for being at my first meet and for your calm presence. Not that you weren’t excited, it was clear you were, but you kept me grounded and focused on what I needed to do. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again now: you have a gift for working with people and knowing the best way to get them to give the best they have to give.

Dane- There is a small group of men I trust and you are absolutely one of them. Thank you so much for coaching me through my first meet. Especially the extra time you gave me during Open Gym and after Muscle Hour. Your confidence in me was so appreciated. I still can’t believe you researched meets for me so I couldn’t just keep mumbling “someday” and not taking any further steps. I didn’t think I would bring home anything on November 7, but you told me all along I would. Thank you for your faith in me. I can’t wait to start seriously training for my next challenge.

Ami-There are no words adequate to express how I feel. You are a staunch supporter, a caring friend and one of the sweetest spirits I know. You aren’t afraid to wear your heart on your sleeve and love with everything you have. I have learned so much from you. Thank you.

Nikki- Wow! Your support means the world. You are so encouraging and optimistic. Thank you, thank you thank you.

I hope those of you I have thanked don't mind. If you do, please message or email me and I will edit this post. I  genuinely want to express my gratitude, I don't wish for anyone to feel as if they've had a spotlight turned on them if that is not what they want.

Thanks for reading!

Monday, November 23, 2015

Beautiful

I've been able to feel proud of myself. I'm learning to own my strength. I'm working on developing my confidence. I am even trying to be okay with what I can't do.

A friend told me that someday she wants me to say I am beautiful and mean it. Umm...beautiful? I don't think I'm hideously ugly, is that good enough? Knowing this friend it wouldn't be.

I am strong, I can see it. I am becoming comfortable accepting compliments on my strength. I know I am not the strongest woman out there, but I'm stronger than I ever imagined. Part of owning my strength has been learning to be content with who I am and where I am. I don't need to be the best. I just need to be better than I was yesterday. I need to give 100% to everything I attempt or am asked to do. I am even learning to accept that my 100% won't be the same every day. It can't be. Some days I will PR, other days it will be enough to finish without giving Tyler a gold star.

There are adjectives I am comfortable using to describe myself. Strong- yep, that one works. Smart- sure. Most days I don't come across as a babbling idiot. Determined-it's a synonym for stubborn so I definitely need to own that one. Kind- I strive to be kind, some days with a lot more success than others. Patient- ooh boy. Let's stop while I'm ahead.

Beautiful. That is not a word I am comfortable applying to myself. If other people wish to describe me and use that word I might be able to bite my tongue hard enough to stop myself after I say thank you. Actually let's be honest: I am most comfortable in clothes that complete hide and conceal my shape. I do wear form fitting clothing when I work out, but I'm not comfortable. I spend a great deal of time tugging my shirts down, wishing I could stretch them out more.

To the dear, sweet friend who wants me to call myself beautiful and mean it. I'm growing, I'm changing, I'm getting better every day, but I don't feel beautiful. I'll let everyone draw their own conclusions and I'll do my best to be polite.

I will leave you with some pictures of women I consider beautiful and me. Thanks for reading!









Friday, November 13, 2015

Demons

What happens when you finally decide enough is enough? When you realize all the hate and anger you direct at yourself isn't doing anything but killing your fledgling self-esteem inch by inch? When you step into an unfamiliar place and realize you are more scared then you have ever been in your life and all you want to do is run?

Someone commented earlier this week that I bury my demons deep and fight them on my own. Guilty as charged. I have learned to look to my friends for support, but I still insist on fighting the demons on my own. After the battle I turn to my support system and cry on the nearest shoulder before going off to lick my wounds.

Sometimes the battle doesn't leave wounds. It seems like it should, especially if its a demon that's been a part of me for many years. It seems it should leave huge, gaping wounds. Sometimes, or at least this time, the demon went down without any fight at all.  Healing happens when we aren't paying attention. Or so I've decided after some thought. All right...all right: I have been over thinking this since early Sunday morning.

For my squats last week I had three spotters, two flanking the barbell, ready to take it if I couldn't come back up and one behind me. Yes, I did say one behind me. I hate people being behind me, and someone I don't know spotting me from behind has long been a no-no in my book. I had the option of asking one of my coaches to spot me, but I decided against that. Tyler and Dane have taught me well. Tyler has pushed me outside my comfort zone when he could, just far enough to be sure I'd grow, never far enough to make me retreat. I wanted him to see just how far I've come. So sue me: I want to be the teacher's pet, or in this case, the coach's pet. I wanted both of them to be proud of me.

To be honest, of all the things that scared me last Saturday, being spotted from behind by someone I didn't know wasn't even on the radar. Let me give you a brief-ish rundown of what was on my radar.

1. There were at least 20 people there cheering me on...ME. Cheering for me...WTF??? When did I become a "cool kid"??

2. Dane helped me pick my weights for my rounds, but what if he way over estimated my ability? I couldn't let him down- I couldn't.

3. Tyler was there...what if I blew it completely??

4. Ben was there....again, what if I blew it?

5. I had two eggs for breakfast and a quarter cup of almonds to eat all day...that didn't seem like enough fuel. Would I be able to rally? (The granola bar I ate that stayed with me about 45 minutes didn't really count)

6. Nausea...When your childhood nickname is "The Vomit Comet" nausea is a concern. Besides the gold stars weren't in the bag with the rest of my gear.

7. Did I mention what if I couldn't do it?

8. When exactly did I forget other people would be doing this too?

9. Judges?? Seriously, did I not read the rules???

10. Could anyone else see my hands shaking and knees knocking? What if I couldn't even get the bar off the rack, or worse: I couldn't lift it off the ground.

Turns out I could do it and I did do it. I think I may have even made some people take notice.

I learned some things on Saturday, November 7, 2015. I finally recognized that I AM a force to be reckoned with. I knew I was strong, but I didn't know how strong. I experienced a completely new feeling. Not only was I proud of myself, but I felt confident. I knew that 352.74 pounds was coming off the floor. Adrenaline is a wonderful thing and I've experienced it before so I know it played a part.  Along with the adrenaline was a completely new feeling: confidence. The confidence that not only could I do it, but that I WOULD do it was brand new. There was a brief moment of worry that the confidence would be unfounded or that I would become an egomaniac, but I know how to rein myself in and I will. I am not a diva, I am not going to become an egomaniac. I know what I can do, I have no burning desire to rub other people's noses in it.

When confronted by someone recently who said "I bet you think you're pretty strong" I was able to respond "I don't think I'm strong: I KNOW I'm strong". I wasn't bragging, I wasn't trying to start anything with the other person. I was stating a fact and then I went back to the report I was writing. I won't ever apologize for being strong. By the same token I will not be goaded into something I don't want. I am too smart and too old to be baited.






The final demon has been well and truly slain. Let's see just where I can go when I am finally in my own corner. I don't expect to be the best at everything, but I have already seen a new level of determination and focus in myself. I don't always succeed (that 100 pound slam ball infuriates me), but I don't get angry or give up. I do my best and I will bide my time. I will absorb the training and correction, I will give all I have when it is asked of me. At the end of the day I will be the best I am capable of being and I will be enough. I will relish the fist bumps and high fives and allow myself to feel proud of what this body can do.

I am worthy. I am enough. I always have been, I was just slow getting to the party. I'm here now: let's do this!

Thanks for reading!



Sunday, November 8, 2015

Team Kim

I don't even know where to begin this post. I honestly don't. Normally I am so comfortable sitting in front of my laptop and pouring my thoughts and feelings out. The crazies enjoy the chance to come out and play. Today there is so much to say and I'm not sure I'm eloquent enough to say it.

So I'll start with this. THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU to Tyler, Kayla, Dane, Jen, Nikki, Carole, Sylvie, Lisa, Eric, Hailey, Ami, Cheryl, Gretchen, Ben, Nedah, Jackie Z., Jackie B., Jennifer, Tom and Heather for trekking to Burlington to watch me compete. I hope I didn't forget anyone, if I did please know it is not intentional. You are all my heroes, my inspiration and the best friends I could ever wish for. Thank you to Vermont Powerlifting for making this rank newbie feel comfortable.

Old School Iron Wars was my introduction  to the world of powerlifting. I'm hooked. I was hooked after my first squat.

Prior to that I was just plain terrified. I was on the verge of tears, nauseated and, in my mind at least, completely out of my league. I got an email from my coach after I'd checked in and changed and it was all I could do not to lose it. He said some wonderfully kind things, and the killer "We're almost there." Such a simple sentence to provoke tears. Then while the meet director was going over the rules I saw more of my friends coming in, including my first coach and I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from crying again.

My opening squat was not pretty, by the way. The judge needed to remind me to step back out of the rack before I nodded. I forgot to keep my eyes up and my hands were shaking even while they were wrapped around the barbell. I finally got it together enough to step back, nod and get the squat command.

Once I squatted it clicked. I swear I heard a click, maybe it was just my creaky left knee protesting. I was still nervous, but less so. It wasn't much different than squatting in the weight cave at Pride. Dane and Tyler were close by watching, studying my form and when I racked the bar I got a high five and a fist bump. Maybe I could do this after all.

My second and third rounds I felt less nervous. My hands weren't shaking anyway, though my stomach was still rolling unpleasantly. I got a PR on my last round. 259 pounds, thank you very much. I was hooked from that moment.

The bench press was my second event. No PR there, but I knew that going in. Dane and I had already discussed it. He and Tyler still coached and supported, but there was no pressure. Rounds 2 and 3 were much easier after I was reminded to keep my elbows in so there was less pressure on my still cranky shoulder.

The last event was my favorite, the one I'd been waiting for all day: deadlift. Dane and Tyler made sure I was warmed up and pumped. My opening round was the heaviest in my flight (295 pounds) and I continued that trend with Round 2 (325 pounds) and Round 3. Round 3 was a PR, 352.74 pounds. If I hadn't been hooked before I would have been at that moment.

My friends, the people who took an entire day of their lives to be there for me were amazing. Every time my name was announced they cheered loudly. I emailed the meet director today to thank him for making my first event painless. He emailed back to thank me for my bravery and for my team. According to him we made the meet. In my eyes: my friends made the meet.

I was there doing my job, doing what I love. My friends were extraordinary.  One of them called me a super hero. I wasn't the super hero: they were the super heroes. They cheered for me every time like I was the best thing ever. I got so many hugs, fist bumps and high fives it was amazing.

All those blue t-shirts, even with my glasses off and no contacts in I saw those t-shirts and it made me determined to succeed. I wasn't going to let all those wonderful people down.

I learned a lot yesterday. I learned that the negative voice in my head is nothing compared to the cheers and support of my friends. I discovered that I am strong and I can take care of myself. I discovered that I am proud of the person I have become. I have worked hard, fought tooth and nail, sweated, cried, bled, ached and never quit. I am proud of this woman I have blossomed into. She is smart, she is strong, she is amazing.

Please don't think I will now be trumpeting my successes from the rooftops. I am proud of myself, but I know my own worth without feeling I have to make everyone else aware of it. I'm a private person despite this blog.

I didn't go into the meet thinking I would bring anything home, except a few bruises from pulling the bar up my shins during the deadlift. Dane told me from the beginning I'd be bringing home some hardware. Turns out he was right: I took first place for women's powerlifting, age 45-49. The trophy is fabulous and will be taking up residence at Pride Fitness Performance after I show it to a few colleagues. I am so proud of what I did, but as I said before: I would not be here now without the training I received. For that reason I think it is fitting and right that my first trophy be in my happy place, the place I first felt proud of myself and the place I will keep going to become better and stronger.




Thanks so much for reading!

Sunday, November 1, 2015

Friends

I've been thinking. There's a loaded statement, but it's the truth. I've been thinking A LOT. I might start on one thought, but my mind seems to circle back to one thing time and time again.

What does it mean to be a good friend?

Which is closely followed by another thought:  Am I a good friend?

I'd like to just answer yes, but that would be too easy and my mind wouldn't keep circling back to the same thing if I was certain. I might be obsessive and worrying about nothing, but I'm not so sure. So what do I do when I'm not sure and something is nagging at me? I write and post it here for all you lucky souls. Let's start this off by saying these thoughts are mine and not necessarily reflective of what other people think. These are my crazies and I'm letting them out to play for a little while.

So why all the worry about being a good friend? Partially it is the "On This Day" feature on Facebook. Every day I can look back at what was going on in my life on that day in past years. Recently I have been seeing posts about what I assumed at the time was a true, real friendship with someone who turned out to be interested only in herself and her needs and how exactly I could meet those needs. Yeah, she's not a part of my life anymore. I don't wish her ill, but life is too short to have that level of self-centered childishness in it. I'm sure she would tell you how wonderful she is, how kind, how caring...but actions speak louder than words and her actions clearly pointed to the fact that my place in her life was dependent on what I could do for her at any given time. I could rail on about her for a good deal longer, but why? We won't be speaking again and there is nothing to say in any case.

Onward and upward, right?

Those posts have made me ponder if I'm the same. Am I worried only about my needs? Do my friends know I care about them? You get the picture...there's a whole lot of crazy in that space between my ears.

I look around at my life now and it's hard not to see how blessed I am. I am blessed with the best friends anyone could ever ask for. When I moved in mid-September five friends gave their time to help. One of them helped move heavy stuff despite the fact he had an event on Saturday evening. I was in the audience that night and he didn't look any worse for the wear, but still: he didn't have to help and he did. The other four ladies: I'd walk through hell for any of them. They gave up many hours and two days to be sure all our stuff got into the new house. There aren't words...really there are not.

Here's the thing: I would walk through hell for ANY of my friends, but do they know that? Or do I hold myself aloof enough that they aren't sure how I really feel?

Do the friends who invited me to their wedding this summer know how much they mean to me? How about the friend who is my buddy for buddy training and took me under her wing when I was a scared, anxious newbie hiding in the far corner? Or the friend who was my inspiration when I started and has encouraged me and cheered me every step of the way? What about my trainers, all of whom I consider friends, do they know? What about all the people who are supporting, encouraging and went as far as buying t-shirts with "teamkim" on them? Do any of them have any idea just how overwhelmed I am by their kindness and how much I want to squeeze the stuffing out of every one of them?

Reading this as I write it it's a wonder to me that I get any sleep at all. In between being snuggled and kicked by the snoring boxer and the thoughts in my head it's probably no wonder that when it's time for deep relaxation and turning off my mind at Yoga Corr I often find myself in tears.

Words are cheap and I'm not all that good with them. Ask anyone, when I speak I stumble over my words, I speak too fast or lose my train of thought completely. In my professional life I've managed to get myself under control enough to sound somewhat intelligent most of the time. In my personal life I opt for silence much of the time because it's easier than stumbling over my words. I don't have that problem when I write, the words flow and I feel competent. The best part of writing is the ability to edit: I might stumble or write the wrong thing, but I can go back and fix it before the words go out there into the world. Not so easy when I'm talking to someone.

I try to show by my actions that I care and I appreciate my friends. I will clean homes, move, clean up after training, donate money. I'll cheer myself hoarse when the situation presents itself. I will use words, mostly in messages and emails to thank, check in on and try to encourage people I care about.

Am I a good friend? Not all the time, I'm not perfect: that's just fact. I try, but sometimes my efforts fall short. I'm not perfect, but I'm persistent. Hopefully that counts for something.

Thank you so much to everyone who has joined me on this journey and is still along for the ride. I appreciate it.

Thanks for reading!