Damn it I forgot to wear socks. My bare feet tip toed through security and I couldn't wait to get to my hand sanitizer in my......shit I forgot to remove all my liquids from my purse.
I'm flying Xmas weekend to see my family in Denver. I'm a mess as this is the very first Xmas I've been without my son and I look forward to some serious distraction. Not to mention some major catching up on my blog.
I'm currently smack dab in the middle of writing an entry for you explicitly describing the 'internal warfare' we often feel in the face if getting our asses moving and getting to the gym. This feat is especially difficult during a period off utter 'f***ing mess' in ones life. Little did I know the entry would hit home on an atrocious level so much so that I needed to take a breather. And stick to simpler principles of life. Like people watching. In the airport. And germs.
The germs were flowing and I surrendered. I was more concerned with the security officer announcing 'if you're waiting, it's probably because someone in front of you didn't follow directions and left a liquid in their carry-on'. I loved this guy already. Exploitation is totally my style (ask anyone I train).
I panicked remembering my Costco size hand sanitizer, 4 to 5 half empty containers of lotion, liquid B12 that's expired I'm sure, and essential oil muscle rub powerful enough to clear the sinuses of the entire sarcastic security team...,,all in MY purse and 10 feet away from discovery. Then public announcement on my behalf, surely.
Crap. Plastic baggies have been long abandoned from our airport security for which I don't blame them. Just don't bring your crap, seriously. I had but one option: the trash can.
I scrambled on my tip toes from the bottom trenches of my purse to the trash. In went all that had been semi-forgotten yet piling up. In went stuff I don't truly NEED yet have. In went impulse buys and extra shit. In went things that weighed me down.
Out came someone feeling lighter. I flirted with confidence with my prolific security friend instead of dodging his glare. I was at that moment liberated of 'extra'. What an extra awful concept and word 'extra' is. Yes ok it was only purse crap. But it was unnecessary. I thought of all the other 'unnecessary' weight I carry along both physically and metaphysically for which I could find a trash can. Now I'm crazy and want to dump it all. All but that which truly matters. Which we all know of, deeply buried below extra crap in our purse.
This Xmas and new year I solemnly
vow not to take on the extra. I will keep the energy used for that to amplify that which is most important: family, friends......and this blog.
Saturday, December 24, 2011
Thursday, December 22, 2011
Internal warfare....getting yourself moving with help from our other self.
I put my iPod on and stared at my feet as I sat on the locker room bench. I wished they would move themselves, go work hard through no effort of my own then bring my sweaty endorphin filled body back to the bench. Where my real self sat. Wasting time.
That's not how it works (fortunately or I'd be out of business) so I waved 'bye' to my super clients of whom had already finished their hell workout, their daily non-questioned routine, and I stood up. Then sat back down. And started crying. My life's a f***ing mess.
I have a fridge magnet that says "when you're going through hell.....keep going." Makes sense. It just so happens that I've been in a hell period. But 'going' seemed more like 'moving mountains' today. And cliche proverbs were just plain irritating on top of everything else irritating.
But fortunately the right song on my ipod moved my feet down to the stationary bike. The familiar pain in my ass that arose almost instantly from the totally inappropriate seat, both literal and proverbial, was strangely comforting. Gotta love ass pain. Something to let you know youre alive. As my skin moistened, I admit, my anxiety began to relax it's knuckles. Still- I wasn't warmed up yet, my legs felt like shit, my heart seemed to beat irregular, and my other heart.....my other heart was broken and spilling pieces all over the disgruntled categories of my life. F'ing waaaaah.
I had such a circus of self pity surrounding me I even grossed MYSELF out. Fortunately I don't remain TKO for long. I waved bye to my scattered heart and surrendered to an undeniable truth....fretting over the bullshit in life that's uncontrollable is useless. Especially at the gym. Obviously the new bike provoked oxygen to my brain was doing me well and I became epiphone stricken with this: This was MY hour to work on MY wellness and the fungus that is life's drama is no longer welcome.
Turning over the pedals started feeling easier. Seemingly large issues in my life such as my roller coaster relationship, my sons behavior, and my hamster wheel marathon schedule started to get pushed out of the picture. I did my best to re-frame. In the picture...in the front of my mind....I placed my body.....and nothing else. One thing only on which to focus.
Feeling each individual muscle group at work, my new awareness brought me off the bike and to the weights. For 5 min I will worry not about my finances, but about my latissimus dorsi. After that 10 min will go to not my arguments at home, but to my legs, then another 10 will kick out worries of my sons development and welcome swim specific core and upper body training.
I was an emotionless machine of physical productivity. My normal multitasking, idea manifesting, worrying, scheduling, time wasting mind stepped out. Thank f'ing god. For she was entirely way too busy with useless crap apparently to handle the real business. My alter ego (I shall call her badassbitcha) saved my day. And lots of time from a germy locker room bench.
One item at a time, with no personal afflictions allowed, I not only got through my workout, but I felt as we all do after dragging ourselves out of bed, so proud. My issues still felt small and my day a lot less grim.
I categorized myself 'super' with my clients whom come daily and check their emotions at the door. I know very well everyone has garbage in their lives acting as a veritable quick sand keeping us from a wellness routine. Thank you for staying afloat. Thank you for your 'other' less emotional and more gritty 'self'. See you next week No matter what.
That's not how it works (fortunately or I'd be out of business) so I waved 'bye' to my super clients of whom had already finished their hell workout, their daily non-questioned routine, and I stood up. Then sat back down. And started crying. My life's a f***ing mess.
I have a fridge magnet that says "when you're going through hell.....keep going." Makes sense. It just so happens that I've been in a hell period. But 'going' seemed more like 'moving mountains' today. And cliche proverbs were just plain irritating on top of everything else irritating.
But fortunately the right song on my ipod moved my feet down to the stationary bike. The familiar pain in my ass that arose almost instantly from the totally inappropriate seat, both literal and proverbial, was strangely comforting. Gotta love ass pain. Something to let you know youre alive. As my skin moistened, I admit, my anxiety began to relax it's knuckles. Still- I wasn't warmed up yet, my legs felt like shit, my heart seemed to beat irregular, and my other heart.....my other heart was broken and spilling pieces all over the disgruntled categories of my life. F'ing waaaaah.
I had such a circus of self pity surrounding me I even grossed MYSELF out. Fortunately I don't remain TKO for long. I waved bye to my scattered heart and surrendered to an undeniable truth....fretting over the bullshit in life that's uncontrollable is useless. Especially at the gym. Obviously the new bike provoked oxygen to my brain was doing me well and I became epiphone stricken with this: This was MY hour to work on MY wellness and the fungus that is life's drama is no longer welcome.
Turning over the pedals started feeling easier. Seemingly large issues in my life such as my roller coaster relationship, my sons behavior, and my hamster wheel marathon schedule started to get pushed out of the picture. I did my best to re-frame. In the picture...in the front of my mind....I placed my body.....and nothing else. One thing only on which to focus.
Feeling each individual muscle group at work, my new awareness brought me off the bike and to the weights. For 5 min I will worry not about my finances, but about my latissimus dorsi. After that 10 min will go to not my arguments at home, but to my legs, then another 10 will kick out worries of my sons development and welcome swim specific core and upper body training.
I was an emotionless machine of physical productivity. My normal multitasking, idea manifesting, worrying, scheduling, time wasting mind stepped out. Thank f'ing god. For she was entirely way too busy with useless crap apparently to handle the real business. My alter ego (I shall call her badassbitcha) saved my day. And lots of time from a germy locker room bench.
One item at a time, with no personal afflictions allowed, I not only got through my workout, but I felt as we all do after dragging ourselves out of bed, so proud. My issues still felt small and my day a lot less grim.
I categorized myself 'super' with my clients whom come daily and check their emotions at the door. I know very well everyone has garbage in their lives acting as a veritable quick sand keeping us from a wellness routine. Thank you for staying afloat. Thank you for your 'other' less emotional and more gritty 'self'. See you next week No matter what.
Sunday, December 18, 2011
Wanna run faster? Push my 4 yr old!
Or any child or 50 lbs cargo for that matter. I suppose I had better get faster if I'm going to declare the title of this blog a truth.
This morning we ran....I ran. Luke gazed out the window of his rain protected stroller with Ezekiel bread and cream cheese with his "coffee" (milk) snugly set in his cup holder. I ran my ass off behind him. Wet. Cold. Thirsty. My heart rate read a wopping 165 and my pace was utterly demoralizing at a mere 10 min mile even barely climbing.
My cargo was wiggly. Luke likes to curl up on the bottom of the stroller throwing the weight totally off and forcing me to actually work the hell out of my upper body and core instead of relax when running without my demanding comrade. "I'm thirsty. Mama, stop, what's that plant? Mama! Go catch that rabbit! Hurry up!" I'm thirsty, too. If I stop you're walking home. YOU try to catch that rabbit.
5 miles took me an hour on the hills. My calves and hamstrings surrendered. But let me tell you....it's worth it. Not just because my son will grow up loving the outdoors and exercise, but because I'm going to get faster. To my runners: I suggest you get on board with "pushing 4 year old or that of equal weight training." Here's how:
Fill a wheelbarrow with a ton of stuff to ensure it's off balance. Run uphill as much as possible then do your best not to let go of your 'child' as your hauling ass down hill with the extra weight. The benefits of the wheelbarrow include getting used to pushing more than your own boring weight around in your traditional training, and there will be much less maintenance and stopping. The wheelbarrow won't ask for more to drink even though you're doing all the work, and so the pee stops will surely be nonexistent. A 4 year old demands just as the arms and shoulders can no longer hold up a stroller to "do another whirly mom!" so when you're toast with the wheelbarrow spin it around really fast far back on the wheels.....just to see if you can.
This morning we ran....I ran. Luke gazed out the window of his rain protected stroller with Ezekiel bread and cream cheese with his "coffee" (milk) snugly set in his cup holder. I ran my ass off behind him. Wet. Cold. Thirsty. My heart rate read a wopping 165 and my pace was utterly demoralizing at a mere 10 min mile even barely climbing.
My cargo was wiggly. Luke likes to curl up on the bottom of the stroller throwing the weight totally off and forcing me to actually work the hell out of my upper body and core instead of relax when running without my demanding comrade. "I'm thirsty. Mama, stop, what's that plant? Mama! Go catch that rabbit! Hurry up!" I'm thirsty, too. If I stop you're walking home. YOU try to catch that rabbit.
5 miles took me an hour on the hills. My calves and hamstrings surrendered. But let me tell you....it's worth it. Not just because my son will grow up loving the outdoors and exercise, but because I'm going to get faster. To my runners: I suggest you get on board with "pushing 4 year old or that of equal weight training." Here's how:
Fill a wheelbarrow with a ton of stuff to ensure it's off balance. Run uphill as much as possible then do your best not to let go of your 'child' as your hauling ass down hill with the extra weight. The benefits of the wheelbarrow include getting used to pushing more than your own boring weight around in your traditional training, and there will be much less maintenance and stopping. The wheelbarrow won't ask for more to drink even though you're doing all the work, and so the pee stops will surely be nonexistent. A 4 year old demands just as the arms and shoulders can no longer hold up a stroller to "do another whirly mom!" so when you're toast with the wheelbarrow spin it around really fast far back on the wheels.....just to see if you can.
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