Time to Refocus on Fitness

I miss the gym.

I’m one of those nerdy kids who discovered fitness late, and then became addicted.  I started running, and I got so into it that I eventually ran a marathon. I love weight lifting so much that I once did a bikini competition.  I’ve worked at two different (very different) gyms.  I’ve read countless books and articles about fitness, and have even written a couple of articles myself!  Even now, while I’m not attending any gym, or working toward a particular event, those past fitness experiences inform who I am.  They have taught me a tremendous amount about what I’m capable of, and who I want to be. 

Fitness changed my life.  It’s kinda funny, because for years and years I just wanted to be a skinny girl.  (I was also a teenager in the 90’s, when ultra-skinny models were being shown just about everywhere.)  My desire was partly fueled by society, and partly by my own warped little mind…don’t we all want what we can’t have?  The women in my family are built short and curvy. We’re more inclined to big bums and thick muscles than to having long, lean limbs.  So of course I wanted to be long and lean.  Imagine having the grace of a ballet dancer!  Imagine having the height to be a model! This was frustrating to me as a short, kinda chunky teenager.

I’m not going to tell you a sob story, because Lord knows I’ve already done that plenty of times here. 😉  I’ll just say that my young experiences with dieting were not great. It was always a fight to make my body lose any weight at all.  It always left me feeling grumpy and unsatisfied. Worse, even if I barely ate (NOT RECOMMENDED) I still didn’t come close to looking like my ideal.  I was always disappointed with the results. I never gained any length in my bones obviously, and if I actually managed to lose weight, it was always off of my top half and not the bottom.  Weight loss didn’t make me look long and lean. Instead, it turned me into something like a short, sad triangle. Bony shoulders and a big bum. Not a great look.

As I became more involved with fitness, my confidence grew (HIGHLY RECOMMENDED).  I gained a deeper understanding of what my body could accomplish. I began the long, slow process of changing my feelings and ideas toward my “ideal” body.  I had never become “skinny” anyway, and the self-abuse wasn’t worth it. (Also “weight loss” without a focus on overall fitness is a horrible idea.)  Even if I ran mile after mile I never magically got long slim legs. However, my short, muscular legs could still take me mile after mile, and that was something! I never woke up with a teeny, tiny, tight butt, but I did discover my own natural capacity for strength.  These things did a lot to change my mind about what I wanted from my body. I became less fixated on the number on the scale, and more interested in what kind of athlete I could be.   

Because we’re all athletes.  We just vary in skill, and some of us aren’t currently in training. 😉

Thankfully, logic and some semblance of confidence have taken over.  I know now that I’d much rather look like a woman in a fitness magazine, with six-pack abs and killer shoulder definition than just “weigh less.”  I’d rather use my thick thighs to help me lift things and lend to my overall physical power than hate on them. (This has been a long time coming, believe me!)  I don’t have to force myself into some kind of impossible mold. I can strive for self-improvement, while still appreciating what I have. 

So yeah, fitness has helped me heal a lot, and now I feel like I have to ask it to help me again.

Because…I’ve gained a little weight through this whole crazy Covid thing.  This is neither surprising nor uncommon. I also know that this is honestly less about the number on the scale, and more about how I feel in my own body. The weight is maybe 6 pounds. Not at all a big deal in the overall scheme of things (in fact it’s embarrassingly minor), but this weight is NOT helping me feel good day-to-day.  

Here’s the thing though…. no matter what, I absolutely refuse to go into some kind of self-punishment mode.  I’m not doing that anymore.   Instead, I am committed to operating from a place of self-love and honesty.  

Honestly, feeling this way does not make me happy.  My fitness rituals do make me happy, so it’s time to get back to making them non-negotiable.  It’s back to 6x a week workouts. It’s back to logging my food on My Fitness Pal.  It’s back to making time daily to do the things my physiotherapist tells me I need to do to heal my back.  (Because I really really want to be able to run again!)

I matter.  My happiness matters.  In short, it’s time to give stress the finger, and continue working to be the person I want to be.

Even if I sometimes feel like stress-eating.

Even if I can’t run anymore and have to hike instead.

Even if getting up early to make “me time” is inconvenient. 

I need to be my healthy, hard-working self.  I need to feel strong. I need to do the things that build my confidence.  I need fitness. 

Also, shout-out to all of my iron sisters.  I know right now it’s hard if you’re used to working out a certain way and you can’t anymore.  Let’s keep doing our best to figure it out. You motivated powerful women totally inspire me! 🙂

Let’s come out of this thing stronger than when we went in!

Stay Fabulous

Today I put on a real outfit and makeup, as if I was going somewhere.  I even added dark lipstick and a fancy scarf. No use in going halfway.

I did it for myself.  Jason certainly isn’t someone who is hung up on whether or not I wear makeup, and I don’t think my teenage son could be convinced into caring.  

But I care, and I guess that’s the point.  Bothering with lipstick and straightening my hair is kinda stupid right now, even I know that.  But it’s NOT stupid really, if it makes me feel better. These actions play tricks on the mind. I feel better and more productive if I’ve bothered to “pull myself together.”

I have other friends who don’t seem to need this. They have fully embraced being at home.  They have dispensed with rigid schedules. Some have even taken to drinking at odd hours, and/or rolling out of bed in the afternoon.  

I don’t judge these friends, but I know I can’t do it.  In fact, a part of me might envy them just a little. I can’t handle the guilt.  Not for me. Maybe some people are better able to relax. Maybe my definition of “relax” has changed over the years.  All I know is, I’d rather feel good.  

It’s so poetic and counterintuitive  that there is freedom to be found in structure.  Weird to say, but I guess I like structure.  I like having a morning routine to set me to rights, and a night routine to put myself to bed.  These things can become indispensable companions in a world that’s topsy turvy. 

But that’s just how I am.  I have to take myself in hand as if I were a toddler.  I have to almost forcefully apply direction to my life.  There must be a schedule. I must get dressed. I must attempt to log my food and keep up with my water drinking.  I must have a list of things to do, and I must keep working on it.

I KNOW that right now feels like the perfect time to indulge, but ultimately, eating and drinking too much in my PJ’s is not going to make me feel like my best self.  Instead, it will make me feel depressed and out of shape. I cannot just hang around and watch movies, unless I want to experience an unrelenting guilt spiral about how I’m wasting my time and squandering my talent.

We’re clearly not all built to cope the same way. Some of us are a little more high-strung in general, and you know who you are…

My anxiety-prone friends, I am talking to you!  You are NOT like that person you know who has adopted a “no rules” approach to life during these trying times.  You can’t do that and feel right in your own head. YOU need to feel like you’re doing something. (Trust me, I know you!) 

If I could pass along one piece of advice, it would be this: make a dang schedule.  Even if you are the only one forcing yourself to adhere to it, treat that schedule as sacred and follow it to the best of your ability.  Get more done. Feel more accomplished. Give your day defined tasks and significance.

Oh yeah, and exercise about twice as much as you think you should! (Especially if you’re working from home.)  I’m finding lately that even though I have to force myself to go for walks, they are truly a miracle for my mood, and I always need to go for about twice as long as I initially want to.  Getting outdoors makes a person feel more free, which we all need right now!

Oh!  And lipstick.  Never underestimate the pick-me-up power of a great lipstick. 

Yours in light, life, love and isolated fabulousness,

Jennnq

An Unexpected Peace

I surprised myself this morning by waking up feeling dead calm.  Not stressed at all. Not even the slightest hint of anxiety.  I felt healthy and centered.  Wow, this was unexpected. What a gift! 

Nearly my first thought upon waking was, what have I done lately to deserve this?  Have I kept a perfect diet? No.  Has my sleep been optimal?  No.  Have I been meditating lots and lots?  Nope!  Honestly, I haven’t done anything really out of the ordinary. Nothing special.  Nothing that I can put my finger on that’s distinctly repeatable.  In the end, I have to sigh and accept it; I have no way to bottle this feeling and save it for another time!

Oh, well. In my current state, this doesn’t bother me much.   All things are transient.  I will feel stress again.  I will feel even more fantastic than this again someday, too.  I can only be here. Now.

(Whoa, who am I, and what have I done to the real Jennnq??)

Another, slightly more disturbing thought also came into my mind.  This must be a bad sign.  I am high energy by nature.  It’s not generally a good omen when I get quiet, focused and serious.  It usually means that something bad is happening.  A small part of me fears this strangely “balanced” feeling, because I tend to get really out-of-character levels of focus when things are about to get REALLY bad.  Like, personal tragedy levels of bad.  Like life-changing and scary levels of bad. 

I’ve only met her a few times, but there is a very different side of me who takes over when things are dire.  She’s a version of me who sidesteps self-doubt because she simply no longer has time for it.  She knows that shit is happening RIGHT NOW, and therefore, she must act RIGHT NOW.  She looks people dead in the eye and tells them what to do, if that’s what is required.  She’s not a bitch, but she will assume a leadership role if no one else is stepping up.

 That’s not me.  Not the normal me, anyway.  Although I’m a little bit proud to know that she’s hiding in there. Strong and resilient, beneath this nervous, colourful outer layer.  

But why now? Why am I like this now?  Is my brain just sick of anxiety?  Has all of my past meditation paid off all at once?  Perhaps it is best just to enjoy this feeling for what it is.  This is much better than freaking out. (I suppose that I will have to stop thinking of this side of myself as a harbinger of doom!)

I wish I could tell you how this came together for me today. Since I can’t, all I will say is that I genuinely hope the same for you.  I hope that you are also finding some moments of peace and tranquility.  What a mess out there.