Under Construction

So….I apologize.

I’ve kind of been under construction.  In like a ‘reinventing myself, life discovery, soul searching’ kind of way.  Or something.  Let’s get real.  I’ve been a work in progress for sure (as is evident by the bottle of wine that was just consumed…I just can’t shake that nectar of the Gods).  I”ve missed this little blog, and have been drawn to it many times recently…only to question whether what I had to write was important (um, has it ever been?).  Did I want to change the direction of the blog, (if random ramblings could be considered a direction).   Was this blog really just me avoiding the things I really needed to take care of in life?  Ah, hit the nail on the head.

I’ve struggled with how personal I want this blog to get in the past, as opening up to random people is definitely not my strongest skill.  Guess what?  Still not sure.  I do know that I’ve had things I want to write and sort of get out there though.  I’ve changed my focus these last few months.  Namely, I’ve finally found a desire to focus on my fitness again.  Let me explain how this happened.

I went to the gym with Billy one day (husband, personal trainer, fit guy extraordinaire).  He’s suuuuper patient as a trainer, and just in general.  But he kept asking me to do things that I wasn’t capable of.  I went home that day feeling angry and completely defeated.  The things he had asked of me weren’t super advanced, and in my mind I felt they were things I could do…but my body couldn’t anymore.  I spent the rest of that day in a seriously cranky funk.  There was no one and nothing to blame but me.

There was only one thing to do: quit making so many damn excuses.  Once upon a time I thought of myself as an athletic person.  That person had become long gone.  I started going to the gym 5-6 days a week.  I became a nightly stalker of fitness motivational videos.  I started researching body builders and bikini fitness models on youtube.  What did they eat, how did they work out?  What else did I want?  This wasn’t really an aesthetic problem.  A size 2 was, and isn’t my goal.  It’s unrealistic, and frankly useless.  I wanted to feel strong again.  I set a goal of being able to do a pull up.  A real one, unassisted.  I also wanted to be able to do real push ups.  None of this from-the-knees garbage.

I won’t lie, the beginning was rough.  It felt like a darkest before the dawn situation for a good month.

Slowly though, I got stronger.  My weights went up.  I didn’t waver.  We went to my aunt’s for a four day Thanksgiving weekend, I WOKE UP AT 7 THANKSGIVING MORNING TO GO RUNNING IN THE MIDDLE OF NOWHERE.  Setbacks?  Sure.  I’m still having them (hi, did you read the wine issue of tonight??).  I will have to atone for that tomorrow.  It is getting better though.  We’ve tracked my body fat, and a bunch of other boring things.  We even have a date scheduled to start a one month hardcore body builder diet to see just how much both of our bodies will react.

I finally feel like I’m at a point where I feel comfortable putting it out there.  This is what I’ve been doing.  These goals have kept me up many nights with a passion to lift heavier, and go further.  I’m starting to feel like me again.  I”ve put all of me into this, and I was scared for a while to put it out in the universe, for fear of failing.  There will be no failure though.  I’ve come too far now, and have put more effort into this than I have into anything in my life since massage school.  This is for me.  I will be proud of myself, I will feel strong, and I will (as I so eloquently put it to Billy) “learn how to do some sweet ass tricks and shit”.  (I’m not talking about bedroom shit, pervs….although, maybe that too).

Now you know my dirty little secret.  This has been my priority, and my obsession.  Anyone else out there on a new life journey?