Today I had a come to Jesus meeting with the gym. I know I pretty much said I wasn't going to write about my weight loss struggle anymore, because, really what else is there to say? It's been a life long battle and it consumes most of my thoughts on the daily. However, not talking about it doesn't make the problem go away. It doesn't negate the fight. I've been putting the struggle on the back-burner for a while simply because I could not deal with it. I could not deal with my failure and I could not deal with the daily self-loathing.
I did, however, find some joy in letting go of the struggle for a while. I spent more time with my horse this summer and more time riding. That is truly what makes me happy. It's a double-edged sword because I love to ride, but I also feel the most self-conscious when I ride. At any rate, I have enjoyed my summer of horseback riding and being outside. Now that the weather is changing, it's time to get myself in better shape so I can continue to ride through the winter and be in better shape next year.
That brings us to today. My boss told me that she wanted me to start going to the gym because she knows I'm struggling. She told me to change up my schedule so I would have time to go after work. So, today was the day. I'd had kind of a crappy day emotionally and had already talked myself out of going. My boss was home sick, so she'd be none the wiser. I closed down my computer and got my stuff so I could head out to the parking lot, but in a last second turn of events, I stopped, reached under my desk, grabbed my gym bag and headed to the gym instead. They say half the battle is getting there, right?
I got down there and walked over to my locker where my gym shoes and gym clothes had patiently been waiting since May 10, 2015. I suited up and headed over to the elliptical machine. I knew I'd only be able to do it for a short time and have to rebuild my stamina and muscles. I took a few strides and immediately panicked, I don't remember this being so hard! Oh my word, how soft had I gotten? This was horrifying! But, dammit, I'm going to at least do five minutes if it kills me. I'm three minutes in and I'm staring at the control panel and then it hit me...you have to reset the incline on this machine as it automatically has you at the highest, hardest incline when you start. What genius thought that was the way to go, I don't know. I set the incline down to the lowest setting and now I could function.
I completed my five minutes and headed into the aerobics room where there is a variety of equipment like exercise balls, kettle bells, weights, foam rollers, and a variety of tools that I remembered so well. I had used all of them. Back when I was at my high point of exercising, I was a serious gym rat and Ass Kicker would really put me though the paces. I was already sweating from the elliptical, but I kept the momentum going. I ran through a series of weight lifting, squats, etc. I have a book that runs me through all kinds of work-outs and I followed one of the plans Ass Kicker had written out for me back in the day.
It wasn't long and I was sweating puddles and breathing hard and wanting to stop. My God, what a wimp I was. I remembered how I used to power through those exercises and Ass Kicker would say, "ok, that's 12, do you have four more in you, or do you want to stop?" I would always give him four more. Always. I wanted to be better. I wanted to be toned. I wanted to lose weight. Today, my gut was in the way. I was sluggish. My muscles were tight. I looked in the mirror, saddened by what I had allowed myself to revert back to. I wanted to throw up. Not just because of the visual in the mirror, but because this was so much harder than I remembered.
It was finally time to stretch out and I remembered how hard we had worked to stretch my leg muscles each time. My muscles, tendons, whatever is all in there was always tight and we always had to work hard to loosen them up. Now it seemed as if they had no stretch in them at all. It hurt. I had to work around knee degeneration and bad shoulders. I laid there on the floor and managed to work my arms above my head. I was able to inch them up until they were straight up above my head, touching the floor. I felt a sense of accomplishment and then I realized I was stuck. Like, my shoulders were locked up. Shit. I thought, now what? How am I supposed to get up with bad knees and no way to use my arms? Even if I did manage some sort of sit-up, how in the hell was I going to make it the rest of the way? I looked over into the other part of the gym where there is a girl that I believe is a body-builder of some sort, and my pal Harley Babe going 90mph on the elliptical with her earbuds in. Should I just roll? Should I get to my belly and do some sort of bloated seal shuffle? All I could think of was Jim Carrey and how he might handle this in some sort of comedy movie. I laid there a minute and then finally I was able to get my arm to pop out of its position. I wouldn't die in the gym today. Progress.
I finished up with sweat running down my face and neck, but with a sense of accomplishment. This is just going to take a lot of time and commitment to get back in the swing of things. I can do this. I'm not setting any major goals, I'm not making promises or deals, I'm just going to do the best I can.
On my way out, I walked over and checked out my exercise log in the file. The last time I had been to the gym was May 10, 2015, before that, I had been to the gym one time on February 13, 2015. The time before that had been the fateful workout that changed everything. August 27, 2014. That was the day I did the hardest workout I had ever done. I had a 20 lb sandbag over my shoulders and I went up and down five flights of stairs three times. I had thrown a large, ten pound medicine ball over my head to approx 10 feet up the wall doing three reps of ten. I had done many other things that even normal sized people were not able to do. I was an athlete, I was unstoppable. I was toned. I had abs that you could see. My legs were starting to tone. I felt better than I had ever felt before. I was addicted to the gym. But that fateful workout had pushed me too far. My body broke. My hips, my sciatic, my shoulders. I could not seem to recover and the doctors could not find a solution. I got depressed and I just gave up. Probably the biggest mistake of my life, to date.
I stood there and stared at my chart reviewing all the workouts over the months that lead to that day. I let it all sink in. And, a part of me let go of what could have been and agreed it was time to start anew. I'm going to send Ass Kicker an email tomorrow and see if I can get a new workout log. It's time. Pity party is over.
As I walked down the long hallway, I was tired, but felt good. Surely my muscles would remind me of this tomorrow, and that's okay. That just means I did what I needed to do. I got to the elevator and got my keys out. Why did I need my keys? I didn't need my keys to open the elevator door...what the hell is the matter with me. It took me a second and then I pushed the button that would take me up to the exit.
The fresh air felt amazing on my sweaty face as I stepped out the doors. I hadn't changed out of my workout clothes, because, why? I'm just going home. I walk past the smoking section on the way to my truck, red-faced, hair stuck to my forehead and one of the gals from work says, "oh look at you in comfy clothes, that's a good look for you." I couldn't agree more. It's the best look.
So there you have it, faced the gym, survived. I'm pretty much like that climbing vine plant called Kudzu. You can't kill that shit. It will be back, even if you think it's gone. I'm like that. Like a robot walking out of the smoke, flames and mass destruction...living for another battle. That's me...kind of...but mostly I'm that plant weed thing.
I did, however, find some joy in letting go of the struggle for a while. I spent more time with my horse this summer and more time riding. That is truly what makes me happy. It's a double-edged sword because I love to ride, but I also feel the most self-conscious when I ride. At any rate, I have enjoyed my summer of horseback riding and being outside. Now that the weather is changing, it's time to get myself in better shape so I can continue to ride through the winter and be in better shape next year.
That brings us to today. My boss told me that she wanted me to start going to the gym because she knows I'm struggling. She told me to change up my schedule so I would have time to go after work. So, today was the day. I'd had kind of a crappy day emotionally and had already talked myself out of going. My boss was home sick, so she'd be none the wiser. I closed down my computer and got my stuff so I could head out to the parking lot, but in a last second turn of events, I stopped, reached under my desk, grabbed my gym bag and headed to the gym instead. They say half the battle is getting there, right?
I got down there and walked over to my locker where my gym shoes and gym clothes had patiently been waiting since May 10, 2015. I suited up and headed over to the elliptical machine. I knew I'd only be able to do it for a short time and have to rebuild my stamina and muscles. I took a few strides and immediately panicked, I don't remember this being so hard! Oh my word, how soft had I gotten? This was horrifying! But, dammit, I'm going to at least do five minutes if it kills me. I'm three minutes in and I'm staring at the control panel and then it hit me...you have to reset the incline on this machine as it automatically has you at the highest, hardest incline when you start. What genius thought that was the way to go, I don't know. I set the incline down to the lowest setting and now I could function.
I completed my five minutes and headed into the aerobics room where there is a variety of equipment like exercise balls, kettle bells, weights, foam rollers, and a variety of tools that I remembered so well. I had used all of them. Back when I was at my high point of exercising, I was a serious gym rat and Ass Kicker would really put me though the paces. I was already sweating from the elliptical, but I kept the momentum going. I ran through a series of weight lifting, squats, etc. I have a book that runs me through all kinds of work-outs and I followed one of the plans Ass Kicker had written out for me back in the day.
It wasn't long and I was sweating puddles and breathing hard and wanting to stop. My God, what a wimp I was. I remembered how I used to power through those exercises and Ass Kicker would say, "ok, that's 12, do you have four more in you, or do you want to stop?" I would always give him four more. Always. I wanted to be better. I wanted to be toned. I wanted to lose weight. Today, my gut was in the way. I was sluggish. My muscles were tight. I looked in the mirror, saddened by what I had allowed myself to revert back to. I wanted to throw up. Not just because of the visual in the mirror, but because this was so much harder than I remembered.
It was finally time to stretch out and I remembered how hard we had worked to stretch my leg muscles each time. My muscles, tendons, whatever is all in there was always tight and we always had to work hard to loosen them up. Now it seemed as if they had no stretch in them at all. It hurt. I had to work around knee degeneration and bad shoulders. I laid there on the floor and managed to work my arms above my head. I was able to inch them up until they were straight up above my head, touching the floor. I felt a sense of accomplishment and then I realized I was stuck. Like, my shoulders were locked up. Shit. I thought, now what? How am I supposed to get up with bad knees and no way to use my arms? Even if I did manage some sort of sit-up, how in the hell was I going to make it the rest of the way? I looked over into the other part of the gym where there is a girl that I believe is a body-builder of some sort, and my pal Harley Babe going 90mph on the elliptical with her earbuds in. Should I just roll? Should I get to my belly and do some sort of bloated seal shuffle? All I could think of was Jim Carrey and how he might handle this in some sort of comedy movie. I laid there a minute and then finally I was able to get my arm to pop out of its position. I wouldn't die in the gym today. Progress.
I finished up with sweat running down my face and neck, but with a sense of accomplishment. This is just going to take a lot of time and commitment to get back in the swing of things. I can do this. I'm not setting any major goals, I'm not making promises or deals, I'm just going to do the best I can.
On my way out, I walked over and checked out my exercise log in the file. The last time I had been to the gym was May 10, 2015, before that, I had been to the gym one time on February 13, 2015. The time before that had been the fateful workout that changed everything. August 27, 2014. That was the day I did the hardest workout I had ever done. I had a 20 lb sandbag over my shoulders and I went up and down five flights of stairs three times. I had thrown a large, ten pound medicine ball over my head to approx 10 feet up the wall doing three reps of ten. I had done many other things that even normal sized people were not able to do. I was an athlete, I was unstoppable. I was toned. I had abs that you could see. My legs were starting to tone. I felt better than I had ever felt before. I was addicted to the gym. But that fateful workout had pushed me too far. My body broke. My hips, my sciatic, my shoulders. I could not seem to recover and the doctors could not find a solution. I got depressed and I just gave up. Probably the biggest mistake of my life, to date.
I stood there and stared at my chart reviewing all the workouts over the months that lead to that day. I let it all sink in. And, a part of me let go of what could have been and agreed it was time to start anew. I'm going to send Ass Kicker an email tomorrow and see if I can get a new workout log. It's time. Pity party is over.
As I walked down the long hallway, I was tired, but felt good. Surely my muscles would remind me of this tomorrow, and that's okay. That just means I did what I needed to do. I got to the elevator and got my keys out. Why did I need my keys? I didn't need my keys to open the elevator door...what the hell is the matter with me. It took me a second and then I pushed the button that would take me up to the exit.
The fresh air felt amazing on my sweaty face as I stepped out the doors. I hadn't changed out of my workout clothes, because, why? I'm just going home. I walk past the smoking section on the way to my truck, red-faced, hair stuck to my forehead and one of the gals from work says, "oh look at you in comfy clothes, that's a good look for you." I couldn't agree more. It's the best look.
So there you have it, faced the gym, survived. I'm pretty much like that climbing vine plant called Kudzu. You can't kill that shit. It will be back, even if you think it's gone. I'm like that. Like a robot walking out of the smoke, flames and mass destruction...living for another battle. That's me...kind of...but mostly I'm that plant weed thing.
 |
| Sweaty, but proud. Also wearing my t-shirt from the first 5K I ever did. |
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