Hanging on

This won't be an entirely fitness related post. In fact, a great deal of it will be something else entirely. Thinking it over though, most of my posts aren't entirely fitness-related. I might start off intending to talk about my fitness, but I veer off on a tangent and next thing you know I am being entirely too honest for comfort. There are times I reread some of my posts and wish I had enough of a filter not to write them in the first place.

That's not me though. Not the REAL me. I censor myself all the time in my professional life, except lately I don't. I have finally been honest with a few and admitted it makes me sick to be worried about reading levels, math and writing when basic needs aren't being met. I KNOW that my job is to teach reading, writing and math, I understand it, but despite what some seem to think of me I am NOT heartless and mean. How can I feel good when faced with anger, worry or tears because it is the only control that individual has?

I'll answer that for you: I can't feel good about it and I don't. It makes me sad. It make me wish for a magic wand. It makes me wonder if I have what it takes to be a teacher any longer.

The academic gains do make me happy and I point out how proud I am and celebrate the achievement with the student, but when all is said and done and I am alone in front of my computer writing a report, planning the next day's lessons or reflecting on the day the helpless sadness crowds back in.

That feeling is not a stranger to me, though I wish it were. It is the same feeling I do my best to beat in every workout. It is the feeling I hoped to escape forever when I embarked on this journey in January 2012.

I've come to realize I can't escape it: it is part of me. I can and do keep the feeling at a manageable level by working out and indulging my passion for pushing and pulling heavy weights, but it is always there. I fight, I won't give up that fight, but there are times even the strongest person gets tired. Times when the best thing you can do is go off by yourself and let the tears come before you stand up, stand tall, square your shoulders and fight again.

I won't ever give up the fight. Even during the painful, sad times when nothing seems to be going right there are still beautiful moments if I look for them. Sometimes I forget to look up, I get mired in what's not right or how I've failed. I'm human.

What brought all this on?

This will probably sound stupid to you, but a successful buddy training session. I worked on my bench press, something I'm not very good at and the middle event in a powerlifting meet. Before the meet in November I tweaked my shoulder (too much work, not enough recovery) and didn't even go for a PR in the meet. The shoulder has been slow to heal, but lately there has only been some stiffness. Tonight Dane had me bench. I got to use something called the Slingshot to help me keep my elbows in and propel that bar up after I got it to my chest. I can't use it in a meet, but I hope I'll use it for training. I was able to press 145 pounds tonight and there was a bit of tightness, but absolutely no pain. It felt like my goals to PR in all three of the powerlifting events in April was truly a possibility.

That matters to me. If I was just wearing a plain singlet I would still want to PR, I am competitive, but it wouldn't be such a huge thing. My singlet is super special. It has a logo on it that means the world to me. If I am going to have the Pride Fitness Performance logo on then I am going to be the absolute best I can be. If my coaches are going to be there cheering me on, offering advice and encouragement every step of the way I want them to feel it is time well spent. If I am going to look over the crowd before I take off my glasses and see a lot of blue t-shirts that say TEAM KIM with the Pride logo below it I want to be good. Hell, I want to be exceptional. I know those shirts are worn by friends who are happy and proud to support me and I am still completely overwhelmed by every one of them.

This former little fat girl really wants to show the world she is something special and all her fears, phobias and quirks combine to create an extraordinary person. Perhaps she will even recognize it fully herself someday. I made it to the party, but I'm still kind of standing on the sidelines watching.

Time to join in and be insecure, sad, strong and unique.

Thanks for reading.