Just so you’re warned before you start reading this
post I am about to climb up on my soapbox and rant. I will try to keep the
ranting to a minimum, but I can’t make any promises. I am generally a quiet
observant person. I would rather listen than talk and I would certainly rather
cheer than perform. This does not mean that nothing bothers me or gets to me. My
family and friends can attest to my ability to fly off the handle at the drop
of a hat.
My point is: it takes a great deal for me to overcome my natural impulse to fly under the radar and be invisible. I push myself outside that comfortable realm as often as I can mostly because leaving my comfort zone scares me and I don’t like to be scared.
I’ve discovered an activity that plays on my strengths and also scares me witless. Come on; guess what it is…you know you want to. I’ll give you three guesses and I bet you get it on the first try. YES! Powerlifting. Hey, no eye rolls, you had a chance to walk away before now. I warned you.
Squatting, benching and deadlifting at the gym don’t scare me much. Sometimes I look at the weight on the bar I’m about to pull, press or squat and think “Yep, my coach is trying to kill me” before I get to work, but I do it. If I need to I step away from the bar, refocus, regroup then come back to it, but I don’t feel nauseated. A powerlifting meet is a completely different experience.
Okay, one last chance…the rant is about to begin. This one has been bubbling up inside for some time now so walking away might be wise.
Tuesday night after Yoga Corr I went into the Weight Cave and took a picture. Nothing earth shaking there, nothing that should have provoked tears, but it did. The picture is of the two trophies I have earned in my two powerlifting meets. As I took the picture I thought about it and found myself saying inside my head “They’re both first place trophies, but I was the only woman in my age bracket, so that’s why.” In fact, when I talk about the meets, just about every time I say I took first place I have to add the caveat “I was the only woman in my age bracket”. I can’t just leave it at I took first place. Why??
Does my accomplishment mean less because I was the only woman competing between the ages of 45 and 49? That seems to be my take on it, that a total weight of 793.66 pounds is less impressive because I was the only woman in my age bracket. That’s pretty damn sad, because if one of my friends did that I would be whooping, hooting and hollering like a fool in support of them. I support my friends, but I won’t support myself. I make stabs at it, I will say I am proud of myself, I might even mean it, but I am very quick to point out what needs work.
Take my check in after Muscle Hour last night: “Muscle Hour at my happy place. Back Squats tonight. I set a new PR of 275 pounds (300 pounds is within reach). Feeling pretty darn proud, but there's plenty of work still to do on my pull ups, hand stands and Bulgarian split squats.”
Would it really have killed me to end the post after “I set a new PR…”? Apparently. Not that my pull ups, hand stands and split squats don’t need work, but couldn’t I have taken one second to just be happy with what I did? Even during the class when I went to find Coach Tyler so I could tell him I’d PR’ed my squat I felt like I was shamelessly begging for attention, that I was doing it only to get a fist bump. What gives?
I know I am not the only woman (or the only person) who has difficulty feeling proud of myself. When I do feel proud it feels like I’m begging for attention and I should just stay quiet. Who cares about a total weight of 793.66 pounds, it’s not that important. It’s not that impressive. Except that it IS important to me and it IS impressive.
Why does it feel so awful and so wrong to talk about what I’ve accomplished? Why is it easier to point out faults or what I still need to work on instead of just stating what I did do? Why did taking a picture of 2 trophies I worked hard for feel like the most self-centered, egotistical, morally wrong thing I’ve ever done? Just how crazy am I?
I’m not touching that last question with a ten-foot pole. There’s a whole lot of crazy between my ears and there is no sense in beating that topic to death yet again. So I’m going to try to tackle the other questions. Notice I didn’t say I am going to answer them, nor did I say I was going to find solutions. As with most of this journey, I’m quite sure the solution is going to be an on-going battle.
1. I don’t feel worthy. There, I said it. It’s out there. I’ve grown. I’ve changed. I’ve finally realized it’s okay to be me, but I still struggle with feeling worthy. It really does feel that I shouldn’t talk about my accomplishments because they aren’t that important or valuable. I should celebrate my friends and their victories and successes, but I need to stay in the background.
2. I don’t want to sound like a jerk. No one has accused me of this, well not in regards to speaking about my accomplishments, but I still worry. I do not want to be one of those people who have to follow up anything you say with a story of what has happened to them.
3. Size does matter. In my heart it does anyhow. My head knows that my worth is not measured by my size, weight according to the scale or my body fat percentage, but my heart won’t believe that message. It still clings to the idea that if I get to a certain size and weight I will magically be a better person. I am quite sure that no matter my size or weight I will be the same person I am right now.
So maybe I’ve figured out I do deserve good things. I understand I am not wasting my coaches’ time by walking through the doors at Pride as much as possible. I am almost okay with my friends celebrating with me and congratulating me on my accomplishments. As much as I want to be “there” (that wonderful, mythical place where all this makes sense, I feel good about who I am all the time and I stop whining on and on like a broken record) I’m not yet. I’m closer to that person than I used to be, but I’m still not done.
I made it to the party, now I need to let myself enjoy it and accept that it is okay. The world won’t end if I look at my trophies and smile or post that I hit a new PR and leave out what I still need work on.
Rant over. You survived. I’ll put my soapbox away now. I'll leave you with the picture that sparked this whole rant.
My point is: it takes a great deal for me to overcome my natural impulse to fly under the radar and be invisible. I push myself outside that comfortable realm as often as I can mostly because leaving my comfort zone scares me and I don’t like to be scared.
I’ve discovered an activity that plays on my strengths and also scares me witless. Come on; guess what it is…you know you want to. I’ll give you three guesses and I bet you get it on the first try. YES! Powerlifting. Hey, no eye rolls, you had a chance to walk away before now. I warned you.
Squatting, benching and deadlifting at the gym don’t scare me much. Sometimes I look at the weight on the bar I’m about to pull, press or squat and think “Yep, my coach is trying to kill me” before I get to work, but I do it. If I need to I step away from the bar, refocus, regroup then come back to it, but I don’t feel nauseated. A powerlifting meet is a completely different experience.
Okay, one last chance…the rant is about to begin. This one has been bubbling up inside for some time now so walking away might be wise.
Tuesday night after Yoga Corr I went into the Weight Cave and took a picture. Nothing earth shaking there, nothing that should have provoked tears, but it did. The picture is of the two trophies I have earned in my two powerlifting meets. As I took the picture I thought about it and found myself saying inside my head “They’re both first place trophies, but I was the only woman in my age bracket, so that’s why.” In fact, when I talk about the meets, just about every time I say I took first place I have to add the caveat “I was the only woman in my age bracket”. I can’t just leave it at I took first place. Why??
Does my accomplishment mean less because I was the only woman competing between the ages of 45 and 49? That seems to be my take on it, that a total weight of 793.66 pounds is less impressive because I was the only woman in my age bracket. That’s pretty damn sad, because if one of my friends did that I would be whooping, hooting and hollering like a fool in support of them. I support my friends, but I won’t support myself. I make stabs at it, I will say I am proud of myself, I might even mean it, but I am very quick to point out what needs work.
Take my check in after Muscle Hour last night: “Muscle Hour at my happy place. Back Squats tonight. I set a new PR of 275 pounds (300 pounds is within reach). Feeling pretty darn proud, but there's plenty of work still to do on my pull ups, hand stands and Bulgarian split squats.”
Would it really have killed me to end the post after “I set a new PR…”? Apparently. Not that my pull ups, hand stands and split squats don’t need work, but couldn’t I have taken one second to just be happy with what I did? Even during the class when I went to find Coach Tyler so I could tell him I’d PR’ed my squat I felt like I was shamelessly begging for attention, that I was doing it only to get a fist bump. What gives?
I know I am not the only woman (or the only person) who has difficulty feeling proud of myself. When I do feel proud it feels like I’m begging for attention and I should just stay quiet. Who cares about a total weight of 793.66 pounds, it’s not that important. It’s not that impressive. Except that it IS important to me and it IS impressive.
Why does it feel so awful and so wrong to talk about what I’ve accomplished? Why is it easier to point out faults or what I still need to work on instead of just stating what I did do? Why did taking a picture of 2 trophies I worked hard for feel like the most self-centered, egotistical, morally wrong thing I’ve ever done? Just how crazy am I?
I’m not touching that last question with a ten-foot pole. There’s a whole lot of crazy between my ears and there is no sense in beating that topic to death yet again. So I’m going to try to tackle the other questions. Notice I didn’t say I am going to answer them, nor did I say I was going to find solutions. As with most of this journey, I’m quite sure the solution is going to be an on-going battle.
1. I don’t feel worthy. There, I said it. It’s out there. I’ve grown. I’ve changed. I’ve finally realized it’s okay to be me, but I still struggle with feeling worthy. It really does feel that I shouldn’t talk about my accomplishments because they aren’t that important or valuable. I should celebrate my friends and their victories and successes, but I need to stay in the background.
2. I don’t want to sound like a jerk. No one has accused me of this, well not in regards to speaking about my accomplishments, but I still worry. I do not want to be one of those people who have to follow up anything you say with a story of what has happened to them.
3. Size does matter. In my heart it does anyhow. My head knows that my worth is not measured by my size, weight according to the scale or my body fat percentage, but my heart won’t believe that message. It still clings to the idea that if I get to a certain size and weight I will magically be a better person. I am quite sure that no matter my size or weight I will be the same person I am right now.
So maybe I’ve figured out I do deserve good things. I understand I am not wasting my coaches’ time by walking through the doors at Pride as much as possible. I am almost okay with my friends celebrating with me and congratulating me on my accomplishments. As much as I want to be “there” (that wonderful, mythical place where all this makes sense, I feel good about who I am all the time and I stop whining on and on like a broken record) I’m not yet. I’m closer to that person than I used to be, but I’m still not done.
I made it to the party, now I need to let myself enjoy it and accept that it is okay. The world won’t end if I look at my trophies and smile or post that I hit a new PR and leave out what I still need work on.
Rant over. You survived. I’ll put my soapbox away now. I'll leave you with the picture that sparked this whole rant.
Thank you for reading.
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