This post started out to be a rant about the scale. I've written about my love/hate relationship with that particular inanimate object before, so it's probably good that yesterday happened to change my focus.
To sum up my feelings about the scale before I move on: I HATE it!
The number it displays has gone down, I'm not upset about that. I just want it to reflect what my measurements and my entire outlook reflect. Sure it tells me there's less of me, but really there is so much more of me. Or maybe it's that there is so much more TO me now.
Which brings me to yesterday. You never know when the next moment that is going to make you think and reflect on your own prejudices and preconceived ideas is going to come. Mine came during my yearly visit to the eye doctor. The woman who checked me in and got the general information from me asked me that fateful question: How much do you weigh?
I debated that for a several seconds, mostly debated being snippy and somewhat rude and responding "None of your business". Given that I was raised not to be rude without considerable provocation I answered honestly and kind of proudly. Then she asked how tall I was which I responded to without hesitation. Then she stopped and sighed deeply.
I wondered what was coming next and decided if it was a lecture about my weight I was not going to be polite: I was going to remind her that she wasn't my doctor, nor my coach, nor my mother and she could keep her opinions to herself. Then she said "I'm your height and your weight too. Doesn't it suck?"
I had no response at the time. Honestly, it doesn't suck to be 5'5" and my current weight. It sucked to be 5'5" and at least 309 pounds. It sucked to wedge myself into seats on airplanes and need the seatbelt as big as I could get it so it would fit. It sucked to get winded going up or down a flight of stairs.
Now? I don't think it sucks at all. I like what my body can do. I like squatting 260 pounds, I like bench pressing 145 and I LOVE deadlifting 385 pounds. I like that I can go up and down the stairs at least 20 times per day without breathing hard. I love working out and feeling tired when I'm done, but not like I'm going to die any second. I like fitting into smaller clothes than I've ever worn before. I like hearing from Coach Tyler that I'm strong or hearing "Simple" when I'm done a set of whatever Coach Dane has set before me. Let's not get me started about fist bumps or high fives...I could go on about those for days.
I wish I'd had that answer yesterday, but I didn't. I can think on my feet sometimes, but usually I do much better with time to formulate an answer. So, that's my answer to "Doesn't it suck?"
Perspective is an amazing thing. This woman seemed to be feeling really bad about herself and her weight. I have an entirely different outlook. Yep, by society's standards I am still very overweight and I've had other people tell me just that. I used to feel crushed by those comments, now I can walk away knowing that person doesn't know the first thing about me or my journey and their opinion is worth exactly nothing in my life. I might still look "fat" to others, but there's plenty of muscle there too and I am working to build more. The scale gives me a number that explains my relationship with gravity, it doesn't tell me how much is muscle I need to be the best I can be. That number does not, nor should it ever define me as a person.
Many things in my life define me, my weight is not one of them. Do I weigh more than I want to? Yes. Am I doing something about that? You bet. Do I need you to tell me I'm not meeting society's beauty standards? Since I don't strive to be society's version of "beautiful" I don't advise you to waste your breath. Plus, did I mention how much I can lift, squat and press? Yeah, think about it before you feel the need to give unsolicited advice and opinions. I try to be nice, but I'm no doormat.
In other news, it's been an extraordinary week. On Tuesday I sat with three other people and was interviewed for NEK-TV's "Dial It Up". I was introduced as a teacher and a powerlifter. I've competed one time, I'm diligently training for meet #2 and it wasn't until that day that I really realized I'm not the only one who sees myself as a powerlifter. Heady stuff, especially since I was sitting with three people I consider so much more knowledgeable than me, my coaches and a good friend. There's a chance I pinched my hand a couple of times just to be sure it was real. It was real, there's a picture and I've been told there will be a DVD to prove it.
One of the questions I got asked was who I admire in powerlifting. I'm a rank newbie, I don't even know the names in the sport to be honest. I answered honestly and said I am just learning and really the people I admire most were the two coaches who were there with me. My favorite question had to be how do you train. Huh? The answer I should have given was "I pick up whatever heavy stuff Tyler or Dane tell me to with the best form I can possibly have." I know there is a method to the way I'm being trained and maybe it's a reflection of how little I know that I've never thought to ask about it. Seriously, I love to move heavy stuff...I don't care how, where or when: just tell me what my task is and let me get to it.
Don't get me wrong, I am reading about powerlifting, I am watching videos on YouTube and I studied everyone at my first meet carefully to see what they did and how. I want to know more, I will know more, but for the moment to avoid my well-developed ability to over think EVERYTHING I do I am trying to let go and trust my coaches. I do set goals for myself, but other than that I want to just trust and enjoy the experience as much as I can.
Back to your day now.
Thanks for reading!
Thursday, February 25, 2016
Friday, February 19, 2016
MY Fight Song
Let's start this off with gratitude for Rachel Platten. I LOVE this song, so much. Maybe almost as much as I love "Stronger" by Kelly Clarkson.
I first heard "Fight Song" when I was struggling with who I was and what my purpose was. Yes, even over four years into this journey I still struggle. I wonder why. I wonder if I can do it. Sometimes, even though I know 100% better, I struggle with trusting the process and my coaches.
It is so frustrating at times not to be past the doubts and the worry. That's the hard truth of this journey: it isn't easy, it requires mental strength and very often it requires digging deep to find the spark that makes the fight possible. None of this has come easily, it has required persistence, biting back tears, swallowing screams and occasionally walking away to regroup.
I want what I want and I want it right now. No apologies, no excuses: just the truth. I am impatient by nature, but this journey is teaching me bit by painful bit to cherish any and all progress.
Fight Song reminds me that I might look like I am going down, but that is NOT happening. As the chorus says "And I don't really care if nobody else believes 'cause I've still got a lot of fight left in me". That's true, even though I don't always recognize it.
This journey, this is MY song, my fight song. I am an enthusiastic singer, though not necessarily talented in that realm. I won't burden any of you with my singing voice, but the path I am on is my masterpiece, my work of art to share with the world.
I'm not sure if my ability to squat, bench press and deadlift is truly art, but it is what I do and what I love to do. I've heard that I make it look easy and maybe that's true, but let me assure you there is NOTHING that feels easy about pulling 385 pounds off the ground or squatting with 259 pounds on my back. If I make it look easy and effortless then I'm all for it, but it is not and it will likely never be easy and I'll be the first to admit it.
Why fight? Why not just pick something that is easy for me?
It is tempting at times to consider just taking the easy way. Why fight and train to pull 400 pounds or more in my next meet? Why hope to squat with about 30 pounds more than I did in November? Why plan to at least bench press my current PR of 185 pounds?
Of course I want to meet my goals to make my coaches proud. I absolutely want to be sure I am representing Pride Fitness Performance well.
At the end of the day I fight for me, for the little girl who had no reason to believe she was "good enough", for the awkward girl in junior high who got bullied because she was an easy target; for the college sophomore who found out just how vicious and cruel people can be.
I fight for the exhausted, depressed, scared 41 year old who knew deep down she had one last chance to craft a life worth living and grabbed on to that opportunity with both hands and held tight.
So what am I training for on April 2nd? What are my goals for myself?
Squat: 295 pounds (current PR 259, set 11/7/15)
Bench Press: 200 pounds (current PR 185, set in 2015)
Deadlift: 415 pounds (current PR 385, set in December 2015)
Time will tell if I can meet my goals. I am training hard, soaking up every bit of instruction I get and when I get corrected I do everything within my power to correct my form and do it again better. I must be doing well, so far I have gotten high fives or fist bumps before I am dismissed to work with my buddy for our Buddy Training finisher.
I don't have delusions that I am an amazingly gifted powerlifter. I think I have potential and as long as I use common sense and listen to my coaches I have just started to discover my strength. I will do my gym and my coaches proud. Most importantly: I will do myself proud.
Thanks for reading.
I first heard "Fight Song" when I was struggling with who I was and what my purpose was. Yes, even over four years into this journey I still struggle. I wonder why. I wonder if I can do it. Sometimes, even though I know 100% better, I struggle with trusting the process and my coaches.
It is so frustrating at times not to be past the doubts and the worry. That's the hard truth of this journey: it isn't easy, it requires mental strength and very often it requires digging deep to find the spark that makes the fight possible. None of this has come easily, it has required persistence, biting back tears, swallowing screams and occasionally walking away to regroup.
I want what I want and I want it right now. No apologies, no excuses: just the truth. I am impatient by nature, but this journey is teaching me bit by painful bit to cherish any and all progress.
Fight Song reminds me that I might look like I am going down, but that is NOT happening. As the chorus says "And I don't really care if nobody else believes 'cause I've still got a lot of fight left in me". That's true, even though I don't always recognize it.
This journey, this is MY song, my fight song. I am an enthusiastic singer, though not necessarily talented in that realm. I won't burden any of you with my singing voice, but the path I am on is my masterpiece, my work of art to share with the world.
I'm not sure if my ability to squat, bench press and deadlift is truly art, but it is what I do and what I love to do. I've heard that I make it look easy and maybe that's true, but let me assure you there is NOTHING that feels easy about pulling 385 pounds off the ground or squatting with 259 pounds on my back. If I make it look easy and effortless then I'm all for it, but it is not and it will likely never be easy and I'll be the first to admit it.
Why fight? Why not just pick something that is easy for me?
It is tempting at times to consider just taking the easy way. Why fight and train to pull 400 pounds or more in my next meet? Why hope to squat with about 30 pounds more than I did in November? Why plan to at least bench press my current PR of 185 pounds?
Of course I want to meet my goals to make my coaches proud. I absolutely want to be sure I am representing Pride Fitness Performance well.
At the end of the day I fight for me, for the little girl who had no reason to believe she was "good enough", for the awkward girl in junior high who got bullied because she was an easy target; for the college sophomore who found out just how vicious and cruel people can be.
I fight for the exhausted, depressed, scared 41 year old who knew deep down she had one last chance to craft a life worth living and grabbed on to that opportunity with both hands and held tight.
So what am I training for on April 2nd? What are my goals for myself?
Squat: 295 pounds (current PR 259, set 11/7/15)
Bench Press: 200 pounds (current PR 185, set in 2015)
Deadlift: 415 pounds (current PR 385, set in December 2015)
Time will tell if I can meet my goals. I am training hard, soaking up every bit of instruction I get and when I get corrected I do everything within my power to correct my form and do it again better. I must be doing well, so far I have gotten high fives or fist bumps before I am dismissed to work with my buddy for our Buddy Training finisher.
I don't have delusions that I am an amazingly gifted powerlifter. I think I have potential and as long as I use common sense and listen to my coaches I have just started to discover my strength. I will do my gym and my coaches proud. Most importantly: I will do myself proud.
Thanks for reading.
Thursday, February 11, 2016
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.
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.
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