Work it out

America,

Right about now your facebook feeds and blogs are lighting up about how so and so completed this run or that crossfit or this shakeology or that blah blah blah. I wish I could announce to you about how this blog is not going to jump in to that fray, right here and right now, but alas I can not.

I hate exercising. I have never in my life been able to run. Ever. Even at my most physically fit times of all times (when I had a true six pack and could pump out 1,000+ sit ups in a single setting... that is a true.story.), I could maybe run 5 feet before I couldn't breathe. I tried everything I could to get answers (there will not be a cue: buy this product that fixed everything magically!!!): doctor's, trainers, videos, couch to 5ks... nothing worked. Every single time, I would run about 5 feet and I wouldn't be able to breathe, my hands would go numb and the stars would alight in my brain.

It was sort of by accident that I found out what may have been causing things. I was walking up a flight of stairs with a fellow FRG boss lady, and I couldn't breathe. She said It's because you're holding your breath. I read somewhere that there are certain brains that are triggered to withhold breathing while moving. America, I took those words to heart and I started paying attention. My brain is one of those brains. Now, I have googled this information until the cows came home, and I've never been able to find any science anything to support that, but I can say with absolute certainty that my brain demands that I hold my breathe while walking, running, jumping, going up stairs, anything to that effect with one exception: dancing. So I started dancing again.

The thing is America, I am obsessed with my weight. I am obsessed with how I feel in my own skin, with how I look in the clothes that I love. I am obsessed with what my husband's face looks like when he looks at me, clothed or unclothed, dolled up or dolled down. I am obsessed with whether he not he can't keep his hands off my body, or his eyes off my ass. I am obsessed with whether or my not my body has the energy, desire, and drive to pick itself up off of the couch, walk outside with my children, and ride bikes, or kick the ball around, or run around the neighborhood. I am obsessed with whether or not my brain craves physical activity, because I want my children to be healthy and believe it or not, being outside, being active is a huge element in physical and mental health! So, I am obsessed with my fitness, because I want to be better than I was yesterday.

I spent four months devoted to dancing, yoga, and pilates every single day. I didn't lose a single pound, or any inches. Please read that again: I did not lose a single pound or ANY inches off of my body. Weight loss has never been, in my body, about activity. My body's ability to lose or maintain my weight has always been controlled by food. I am not announcing this as biblical fact for any person other than what I know of myself right now. Please do not use my words as your excuse to remain idle. Your body is different than mine. I lost no weight, but I did gain wonderful things. I started to notice I was less quick to snap at people. I started to see how much more energy I felt. I started to crave challenging myself physically. I started to feel disappointed when my body adapted to exercises and I had to change the routine/make things harder (side note: I am a creature of habit. Down to the same breakfast every day for years. Don't believe me? Ask the Chief.). I started to worry when I injured myself or became sick that it would impact my brain's ability to override my body's desire to quit. So I would pray God, please help me to stay the course and remain faithful to taking care of this body.

This past week, America, for the first time in my life, I have been able to run a quarter of a mile, without numbness or tingling, or blacking out. To you, that may be pathetic, to me, it's outrageously empowering. My body grew four human beings. My body pushed one out despite a most challenging situation (she was sunny side up, and massive....). My body delivered three living babies, despite all of the odds against them. My body survived being cut open, not numb, and fully aware, for doctor's to get to those babies. My body has handled a plethora of stresses and demands, some put on it by myself, and some by outside influences. My body is fierce. My brain is even fiercer.

When I write on facebook about my working out, it is not about look at how great I am because I'm working out and I need attention!!! It is entirely about my own brain taking a moment to recognize how ridiculously hard it is for me to do this. It is absolutely about my head needing to stay focused on the positives that come out of working out. It is about making myself keep going. Because the truth is, America, my lazy self doesn't want to. Even though I know all of the good that has come of it.

So, keep sharing your fitness stories. Keep on challenging me to keep going. I need it. So share away.