Sunday, May 18, 2014

A Change is Gonna Come: Pt 1/Getting Fit at Home

Remember Anne Hathaway's debut?

The Princess Diaries?  The invisible girl with a retainer and unmanageable hair, who had never been kissed?

Remember the transformation scene?  When she suddenly realized she was beautiful (had been all along) and now everyone else saw it too.

That's what the gym did for me.

Last May, I hit the ground running.  I studied, without realizing it, and learned how to transform my body.  I studied form and muscle groups and I asked questions and practiced in mirrors.  I noticed plateaus and burst through them.  I added plyos when needed and one day I remember I walked into that big gym and it didn't scare me anymore.

I arranged my day around my gym session.  Only one hour at a time, I went it to do work and got it done.  On bad days I made myself venture out onto the main floor, outside of the crossfit room.  Where the heavy weights were.  Where the men were. And worse, the sports bra clad women.

I didn't see a significant change on the scale, but I did in my clothes.  Suddenly, my quad was cut.  And so were my delts.  And I knew what that meant.

My knee started popping so I did some research and realized I was overworking my quad and underworking my hamstring, and so I increased my deadlifts.

Which killed my lower back.

So I dropped weight, increased reps and bought a foam roller.

Guys, this made my heart beat.  This was how I took care of myself.

I had a few run ins with the trainers out there.  And by run-ins I mean: I, the invisible Mia Thermopolis, Anne Hathaway, Audrey Hepburn circa Sabrina, 1954, caught the eye of the trainers.  I only mention this because they were who I was scared of.  The ones who were supposed to know what they're doing.  I needed to stay away from them, just in case I messed up.

We don't mess up publicly around here.  No sir.

We mess up privately and then correct ourselves, so when we debut in public no one ever knows.  No one ever knows.

(Yeah.  Um.  Except for the unwed pregnancy bit.  But we won't talk about that.)

But they saw me.  Over the course of the year there were more than a few, actually.  Saw me, approached me, praised me.  It made me proud to know they thought I worked hard.  And that out of all the people they might notice, I was one of them.

There was one day, a few weeks ago, when Larry and Emily came and watched Judah for one Sunday afternoon while I hit the gym.  And I hit it hard.  When I got there I realized the place was almost empty.  An athlete's mecca, if you will.  I thrive in the emptiness because (see above) I don't have to hide.

And there was the sled.  Already loaded with about 100 lbs.  Already tied to a battle rope.

Just asking to be pulled.

That was the day I knew I had transformed.

Feet braced, hand over hand, pulling that sled across the gym floor.  Engaging muscles to pull faster.  Tossing rope length to the side.

Then April come along, and I quit my job.

It was a necessary move, I believe, but that one letter of resignation has sent our little world into true upheaval.

There's much more to tell, much more serious aspects of this change.  But the one, which is bothering me most tonight is I had to quit the gym.

The new job is out of county and so mine and Judah's day increased by upwards of two or three hours each work day.  My gas bill doubled.  And this will all barely be absorbed by the pay increase.  I am away from Judah 10 hours every day and when I say that out loud it makes my stomach hurt.

There is no time for the gym.

And even if there was "time", I still wouldn't pick Judah up after a ten hour work day and stick him in a daycare with girls who in the past have let him cry for 45 minutes straight.  No sir.

So I've been problem solving.

Seriously.  This is causing me anxiety and the way I deal with anxiety is by going to the gym and now I can't go to the gym and... phew.  The cycle is exhausting.

My first thought is: I've lost my means of self care.  My second thought is: I don't want to get fat again. And my third thought is: WHY DID I QUIT MY JOB.

Good news is I know how outlandish all three statements are.  I also know how much power I have over all three concepts.  And here, I will document my journey to finding the solutions.

Initially, here are my thoughts.

1. Self care is self care and if your means of achieving it don't adapt to a lifestyle change, it's probably not as effective as I think.  My self care is my alone time when I accomplish something.  When I move shit.  A gym membership owns no rights to that concept.  Also, I'm creative.  So over the past few weeks, as the budget has allowed, I have accrued some at-home work out tools.  Including resistance bands, jump rope, slam balls, and ab rollers.  I need to acquire some heavier weights -- which means I should probably be perusing some yard sales.  But for now, burpees it is.

2. I have been fat.  I have.  I look back on pictures now and I almost don't want them to exist, because I am not that person anymore.  Just this Friday night, after an evening of celebrating birthdays and graduations, I walked up on an old friend I hadn't seen in six months or so.  And she said, "it's so good to see you.  You are so SKINNY!"  The face I made was probably atrocious.   Because, I am not fat.  But I am NOT skinny.  But that was her perception of me.  Who I am now is not the same as who I was before.  Also, this fear completely denounces the power behind diet and the foods we choose.  Diet (as in, lifestyle of eating) has always been my weakness.  Now, when my strength cannot be as conveniently utilized, it's time to clean up my kitchen.  To make the harder choices so that the little bit of exercise I accomplish will be effective.

3. I still don't know the answer to this one.

So, if there are any of you who have thought to yourself "I need to work out", or "I should get to the gym" or even said to me, "I wish I had your motivation"... take a deep breath.  You don't need to do anything.  I would recommend it.  And as I embark on this journey of staying fit at home, maybe we will find some motivation together.

Once I started training my posture changed, my skin changed, my body composition changed, my sleeping changed.  Overall, the way I viewed myself changed.  Like a year long transformation scene.

I'm still choosing my theme music.  

In conclusion.  I had a wild hair the other day and started researching the simplest way to get certified as a personal trainer.  I have some pipe dreams I'm entertaining.

Question is: would you let me train you?

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