Resting my way strong...

 Rest days.  I always hated them.  For YEARS I have lived over trained...working out 6 days a week...for up to 2 hours a day.  I lived on very little sleep and prided myself on never being injured.  I felt invincible at times.  I was able to do what I wanted and push myself hard without any real consequences it seemed...and then it all caught up to me.

In March I broke my wrist when I fell demonstrating a movement in the gym.  I remember lying in the emergency room...all alone...feeling defeated and scared.  I had just come off a 2 year separation and divorce that had drained me of much of my strength and desire to take care of myself.  I often felt fatigue or broke down crying while I was trying to train during those years.  I had JUST started to feel better and work out more like my old self for about 2 weeks when I had my accident.  Alone and frustrated, I started to tear up.  I quickly wiped my eyes with the sleeve of my sweatshirt and decided that this would not keep me down.  I vowed to keep working out in whatever capacity I could and promised myself that I would not feel sorry for myself.

I did well for a long time.  I ran, did workouts with one arm, and rarely missed a day in the gym.  I was sure that I would heal quickly and be back to new in a few months.  Unfortunately, that wasn't in the cards for me.  My wrist took much longer to heal that expected and once my wrist was better, I suffered with severe pain in the elbow on the other arm.  It has been 8 months since I was able to workout like I want.  As soon as the pain starts to get better, either something else hurts or I start working out again and the pain returns.

There have been days that I wanted to give up, but I've tried to continue to fight and do what I could through constant aches and pains.  I've watched my body change and felt helpless many times.  I've tried dieting, but there's no replacement for heavy lifting and intense workouts when it comes to body composition.  All along, I kept trying to fight until something occurred to me last week.  I didn't need to fight harder.  I need to rest.  I need to allow myself to heal fully before I can start the process of getting stronger again!

So that's where I'm at.  It feels like a bit of a standstill, but I know it's not.  I decided to write this for anyone else that may be feeling the way I've felt for so many months.  I've felt like a failure.  I've felt like an old battery with no charge left.  I've felt like life is passing me by and everyone else is progressing while I go backward.  I have CRAVED change while refusing to do anything different.  So now I'm doing different.  Now, I'm going to focus on getting well and stop comparing myself to everyone else around me.  I'm going to stop feeling like no one understands how much pain I'm in daily and focus on what I can do to get better so I'm no longer in pain.

We all work hard and push our bodies in our quest to get stronger but what we forget sometimes is that what we do in the gym isn't what makes us stronger.  Its during the rest AFTER the hard work, that we become stronger.  If you are healthy and feeling invincible like I used to...work hard but don't forget to rest as well.  Stay hydrated, stretch, and get plenty of sleep.  Don't take your strength and health for granted.  If you are injured, take the time to heal.  Take the time to clean up your diet and spend the time you would spend in the gym doing things that will improve you in other ways!  It's important to work hard, but sometimes you have to REST if you want to be strong.

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Food is my drug

For many of us, it begins in childhood...maybe even as early as when we are toddlers.  When we are hurt or sad...disappointed or angry, we are taught that food...a treat...will make us feel better.  Time and time again we are taught that food makes everything better.  It's not like our parents sit us down and tell us that food will make us feel better.  We are slowly conditioned over time to learn this, and then it's reinforced over and over and over.  It was done to me, and I in turn did it to my children early on.  It wasn't conscious at the time but I think back and realize how natural it is to do this.

I remember when my oldest was 1 and I got her ears pierced.  She started to cry and what did I do?  I gave her a lollipop and it was like magic.  She became so fixated on the treat that she immediately stopped crying.  I was training her and me at the same time.  As I write this, I think back to how many times one of my kids has had a bad day and I ask them if they want to go for ice cream.  I don't ever think about it when I'm doing it.  I just think that as parents, many times we do what we know works and because our intention is never to harm...we don't think about the possible bad we could be doing.

I've never done an illegal drug in my life, but I know first hand what it feels like to be addicted.  It's something I've struggled with since adolescence.  Food has always been my drug.  When I'm sad, I eat.  When I'm stressed, I eat.  When I'm mad, I eat.  And you know what?  It really DOES make me feel better.  Just like any other drug, it numbs the pain and dissipates the frustration.  But just like any other drug, the effect is temporary.  And when it's effects wear off, the problem or stresses that created the need in the first place are still there and the desire for more grows.

A drug addict can stay away from situations and people that will tempt them or make it easy for them to use, but I can't avoid food.  It's around me every day and I need it to survive.  I've spent the better part of my life having a love/hate relationship with food.  It's my best friend and my worst enemy.  It wasn't until I hit a very low point in my life that I found an alternative.

I was raising 3 small children with a husband that worked long hours to provide well for us.  I spent many hours alone or with no adult companionship.  My whole life was about caring for others and I never made time for me and things were happening personally that left me feeling unloved and worthless.  Some days food was all I had to keep me company...to console me...to "love" me and make me feel better.  And just like any other drug, my addiction became worse until I could no longer control it and spiraled into a very deep depression...so deep it required an anti depressant.

As I started to feel better from the medication, I started to realize that food was not the answer.  I had been so depressed that I was physically fatigued and never worked out.  Once I started to get some relief from the symptoms of depression, I began working out.  I found a new "high" and a new way to live.  I began noticing that when my stress was building, a workout relieved the symptoms just life food had before...only I was not only making myself feel better, I was improving my appearance and health at the same time.  I found a sense of inner strength that I had lost when I let food and depression take over my life.

As hard as that time was, I wouldn't trade it for all the money in the world.  It made me who I am and taught me things I wouldn't have learned otherwise.  It helped me become a better parent and a more understanding person.  I still remember the day my daughter wanted to skip swim team practice because she was sad and had had a bad day.  I promised her that if she went and worked out as hard as she could, she would feel better.  She didn't believe me but went and came out smiling an hour later excited to tell me that I was right and she felt better.

Remember this.  Remember when you are sad or frustrated or stressed.  Avoid what comes natural or easy.  Don't console yourself with food.  Make yourself better.  Workout.  Think of it as a gift to yourself...time for just you to get away and make yourself feel better.  Food may be the most abused anxiety drug and exercise may be the most underutilized antidepressant, but it doesn't have to be that way.  You know better.  Now go do better and set an example for others as you do!

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Learning to be grateful...

 We all do it.  We take things for granted that we just assume will always be there.  I have.  I have many times...in many areas of my life.  I always appreciate things as I am working towards them, but then when I get to my destination...I suppose I become complacent.

I'm not an athletically talented person.  In fact, I'm a hot mess in the gym at times.  I'm clumsy and uncoordinated...inflexible and easily frustrated.  Every movement...every success I've had in the gym...comes solely from hard work and determination.  As a result, I have always been very excited and grateful when I first mastered each movement that is difficult for me.

It's been a while since I've had to learn new movements myself.  I spend my days teaching and correcting other people's movements.  I guess I began to take what I am able to do for granted.  I would do what we all do from time to time...whine about a workout or find excuses to skip.  I always knew that tomorrow was a new day and I could start fresh.  I never thought about the possibility that maybe some "tomorrow" would come where I was no longer physically able to do what I wanted, but unfortunately for me it did.  I broke my wrist in the gym and nothing there has been the same.

I remember lying in the emergency room alone the morning I drove myself there after falling in the gym.  I felt so frustrated and alone.  I wanted to cry but I was determined to remain as tough as possible in front of the doctor and nurses there.  I couldn't help but think, "Why me?  Haven't I had more than my fair share of struggles in the past year?!?", but we all know that kind of thinking doesn't accomplish anything worthwhile so I tried to quickly dismiss it and be as positive as possible.  It's a setback and I WILL heal, so I went forward committing to myself that I would do my best to continue to workout in whatever capacity I could.

In the weeks since it happened, I have continued to work out.  I have had to adjust and scale movements, but I'm still working hard.  I get funny looks when I go into a gym or run on a trail with a cast or now brace.  I worry a lot about where I will be and how much I might loose by the time I'm fully healed.

Everything has changed.  Things that use to be easy are hard.  I've had to learn to live with one hand to do the work of two.  The funny thing is that the harder I struggle...the more I appreciate the task.

I got an answer to the question I asked myself on the hospital bed that morning.  "Why me?"...because I needed to be reminded just how precious it is to be able to walk in a gym and pick up a barbell.  I needed to find the humility that I once had...many years ago when I myself was just learning.   I took my ability to do anything that I wanted to do in the gym for granted.

These days, I long to do things that I once did.  I watch people in the gym sweating and struggling with barbells and I can hardly stand it, because I want to do the same.  My wrist may be broken, but my spirit is unbroken.  I hate being hurt.  I hate being held back.  I hate the pain and fear of the unknown, but I'm grateful in some strange way.

I'm grateful because my perspective is forever changed.  I now know that working out is not a chore or a burden.  Working out is a privilege and that is how we should treat it.

Start today!

 A year from now...you'll wish you started TODAY! Stop waiting. Stop making excuses. Stop focusing on how long it will take and get started! It took me almost exactly a year to lose all my weight and get my body where I wanted it. It wasn't fast or easy, but it was worth it. The time will pass anyways so why not have something to show for it in the end!

 





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Are you in your prime?

 Reasons To Be Fit #156..."because this should be your prime."

You don't have to be in your 20s to be in your prime. You don't have to have a weight loss story to be a success. No one has to know who you are for you to be an example. Ask yourself, "Am I in my prime?"  If not...why?  If not...make right now your prime. Make RIGHT NOW the happiest, healthiest time you could ever imagine!

 



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KEEP LOOKING

 

 A link below to my newest blogpost on my STRONG LOLA® blog!  Go read it!







http://www.stronglola.blogspot.com/2013/03/keep-looking.html

"You're not hardcore, unless you live hardcore"

Sundays are my days to lie in bed and think when I first wake up.  I like to reflect and have honest "conversations" with myself in my head.  Here's what I'm thinking today...

I used to avoid anything that I couldn't do well.  Everything was about perfection.  When scary things or situations would come up...I would run away.  I was always living up to this image of myself I had created.  I think we all do to a certain extent.  That gets old, because it's a lot of work.  I'm ready to tow the line.  I'm ready to face my fears...to open myself up...to take more chances.  I am lots of things, but I'm ready to add BRAVE to that list...and not in a tough, fake confidence, "call my bluff" kind of way.  I wanna become brave in the most honest, true sense.

  My kids love the movie "School Of Rock" and one of the lines that we quote quite often is, "You're not hardcore, unless you live hardcore".  We laugh about it, but it's a true statement.  If we say we want to be strong...we need to live that way.  Being strong...being brave...is not just about being that way in situations that we feel confident in.  It's not about picking and choosing workouts that we know we can do well.  It's not about avoiding situations that challenge us or people that COULD hurt us.  You can lift heavy weight.  You can run fast and talk smack, but it doesn't make you a STRONG person.

Bravery and strength sometimes come at the expense of our pride.  We will get hurt.  We will fail.  Some of the most successful, strong people have failed the most...have been knocked down...have faced difficult situations that would've been easier to just avoid.  Some of the most respected people have been laughed at or looked like fools in their quest to become something great.  If they had run away or given up...if they hadn't been brave...they may never have met their potential.

Stop avoiding the area of the gym where all the heavy weights and "STRONG people" are because you don't feel worthy or you're afraid of looking weak and foolish.  Stop closing yourself off from people and opportunities because you are afraid that you will fail or get hurt.  Stop building walls to protect yourself.  Those walls might protect you, but they also close you in...alone...with no space to grow.  When you feel afraid..don't run away.  Embrace it.  Live in it.  Use it as an opportunity to become brave and strong.  WHEN LIFE GIVES YOU SOMETHING THAT MAKES YOU FEEL AFRAID, THAT'S WHEN LIFE GIVES YOU A CHANCE TO BE BRAVE.

...ruNNinG aWaY fRoM mY pRobLeMs...

The broken up asphalt from a country road was under my feet and the sun was shining on my face. It was a warm November day...so warm in fact that my tank top was wet and I had to keep pushing my big sunglasses up on my nose because the sweat was making them slide down. Music was playing in my ears, but not my usual selection of rap or pop or loud angry rock music. That day the music was different. They call certain foods "comfort foods". If I had to describe what I was listening to, I'd say that this music was like "comfort food" for my soul...music that I've loved for a long, long time...music that is familiar...music that calms me and reminds me of good things.

My legs were sore and my right knee was aching from a tough workout earlier. I knew I had no business running...that I had done enough and needed to rest...but I couldn't stop. I NEEDED to run and I was not going to stop until it was time...until I felt better. I didn't know how long it would take and so I dug in and got into a quick but relaxed pace...trying to ignore the tears that fell from underneath my big black sunglasses. The tears were not because I was tired...or because of the dull ache in my knee. The tears were for other reasons...hurt feelings...disappointment...frustration.

This scenario is not uncommon. The background or the reason varies, but the way I tend to get through it does not. I run. I run away from my problems when they begin to overwhelm me. The music sort of fades into the background and I have conversations in my head. Sounds crazy...I know. Sometimes it's me talking myself through something...a regret...or a bad choice...or a heart ache. Sometimes it's me telling another person what I desperately need to tell them in my head, because I can't find the courage to do it to their face. Sometimes I try to think of possible solutions to my problem. Sometimes I just plain feel sorry for myself. The "conversation", weather, location, music, and subject matter may vary, but one thing never changes. No matter how tired I am or how much it hurts or how dark it gets, I run and I don't stop until I feel better...because I ALWAYS feel better at some point.

Some people say that you can't "run away from your problems", but I disagree. Running and crying and thinking helps me sort things out. It gives me a chance to fall apart without anyone else around. It's a chance to step back and look at things in a different way. It's a release. And sometimes it's a way to let go of things I can't change. It's like I get so tired that I decide I can't carry those things with me any more and I have to drop them on the side of the road in order to continue running and make it back home.

It may seem crazy, but it works for me. And it may seem weak, but I know how hard it really is. Sometimes running away from my problems is just what I need in order to face them head on when I get back home. So, as long as I have problems, I guess I'll have to keep running way from them.

~Marsha

...wHo iS tHe giRL bEhiNd tHe tAnK?...

Who am I? I've sat at my mac pondering this question for a while. If people are like puzzles, I'm one that not everyone would attempt to put together. I'm a 1000 piece puzzle with lots of intricate pieces. The funny part is that when people first meet me, they think I'm one of those really simple 100 piece puzzles. You know the kind you can dump out of the box and put together in an hour.
Even though at times, it can be frustrating...I kind of like it. I'm aware that what I portray on first glance is a certain image. It's not fake. It is part of who I am, but there is a lot more to me under the surface. People see me with my toned body, blond hair, glossy lips, matching jewelry, tight jeans, high heels, and boobs...and they think they have me figured out. I met a guy, a friend of a friend, several weeks ago that on first meeting him in a parking lot was only around him for about two minutes. Later when we ran into him again at my friend's apartment, he said he had me sized up the minute he saw me. I said, "Oh really? And who is it that you think I am?" He said, "You like to workout. Your husband makes a lot of money. You are bossy and you like to have things the way you like them." You'd think I'd be offended by that. I wasn't. Sounds terrible, right? No, it's not really. He was right about all those things. Unfortunately for him, he only scratched the surface.

It's like taking a lick of the whipped cream on top of a chocolate pie. It's pretty good, but nothing compared to a whole bite of pie with all the different pieces together. There's so many things about me that are different. For example, when I was a little girl, I did not take ballet or tap class. I took Spanish dancing. Yes, little ol blond me took flamenco dancing. I learned how to dance and play the castanets from a lady named Lolita. Really. And I would go to festivals and dance in my dress...with a big flower...in my blond hair. I stood out. There was never anyone that looked like me performing and I loved it. That is just one example out of many I could give.

I'm sure when people first saw the picture that started it all...the one of me wearing my "Strong is the new skinny" tank, there were many assumptions made. There has been talk about using "sex appeal" and lots of talk about my now, somewhat famous boobs and that's okay. No one really knows the heart behind the boobs. Everyone sees a 100 piece puzzle. I am going to share my story, my thoughts, my tips, my feelings, my workouts with anyone that reads this. I am going to give you one more piece of the puzzle with each post until it's complete. Some pieces are very intricate and deep, intensely personal. Some pieces are small and simple. Some pieces are exciting and others are not, but it takes all those pieces together to make it complete.

Why do I want to do this? Why do I want to sit in front of a computer screen for hours writing? Why do I want to open myself up to lots of people that could potentially disagree or judge me? I'll tell you why. If I can inspire one person to make the changes that I have made, it is worth it. I went through times as a teenager where I starved myself trying to be "skinny". I have sisters that have struggled with anorexia. I've been fat and felt hopeless. When it comes to body issues, I've seen and felt it all. I am real. Some days I eat things I shouldn't. Some days I don't do as well as I would like to in the gym. Sometimes I pick myself apart and only see my flaws. I won't pretend to be perfect. I'm a regular person with the same struggles everyone else has.

I don't need to weigh 115 lbs to be beautiful. I don't need to be super model skinny to look good. I have found what works for me...what has helped me become the strong, healthy, fit person that I am today. I feel more confident and beautiful at almost 41 than I ever felt at 25 and I want to share the things I've learned with other people. For me, becoming strong on the outside has made me stronger on the inside. And that is why for me, strong is the new skinny.

And so the roller coaster ride begins. As Bette Davis said, "Buckle up! It's going to be a bumpy ride!"

~Marsha