#yolo...ugh.

Sometimes I just need a little perspective.

I had some time today to reflect and ponder as I had my ass handed to me royally. As I burpee-fuckin-broad-jumped down a football field and back, a thought occurred to me -

"This is hard, but it's not as hard as dying of cancer at 40 with a family."

And then I cried as I drove home, because of course I did.

It's time to admit a secret fear of mine.  It's probably not a huge secret, or all that difficult to surmise.  I forget every once in a while. I get cocky and lazy.  But I'm seriously pondering the fact that health is a fragile state and I need to stop taking it for granted. 

Five years ago I was dealing with a gallbladder issue and facing surgery, which terrified me.  A 23-year-old shouldn't have to be considering these kinds of things.  No one should have to be considering these kinds of things, really.  A small fire was kindled under my ass, and it's been growing steadily ever since.

But I still have the thought in the back of my mind - what kind of damage did I do to my body while I spent all those years overweight?  What's lingering under the surface, ready to devastate me at a moment's notice?  

Okay, let's flip this around to something a little more productive and less goddamn depressing.  When I feel like crap while working out because I've been away for a while, or I'm pondering which tasty beverage to get at Starbucks, a better thought to channel is "What are you doing to keep yourself healthy?"

(Notice I did not say "skinny." Screw that.)

If you're waiting for a wake-up call, let this be it.  Too many people are getting sick or even dying from shit that is all too preventable.  You have a life, you shouldn't deny yourself the pleasures of a delicious 'Bucks (because you know I won't!), but if you are getting the feeling that you're doing more damage than good for your body it might be time to think about shit.  Because...ugh...you only live once.

(I've already rolled my eyes at myself dramatically, don't worry.)

As cliched as it is, you're not going to get a chance to be you at this point in your life again.  Just something to ponder.

Here's a picture of a baby elephant.
Give yourself a hug and have a great day.

 

reset

There's something to be said for a little shake-up. 

I'm just returning from a 5-week hiatus from working out, and it is incredibly humbling (and frustrating).  Before jetting off to Africa, I was in a pretty stable routine - eating my decent meals, letting myself enjoy how my body felt, kicking ass at my workouts. Luckily, I don't really feel like the food is an issue. HA! I never really thought I'd get to a point where I'd be able to say such a thing.  (Okay fine, I'm still drinking too much coffee.  I'm working on reigning it in, I swear.)

My first workout back was challenging, but I pushed through. I felt so good I met a friend to work out again that evening.  There was mistake #1. 

I couldn't move the next day. I complained to anyone that would listen that "this is how the elderly must feel."  I might have been a little melodramatic.

I tried to work out again the day after.  Mistake #2.  Have you ever cried in the middle of a workout?  It's hella embarrassing.  "It's just sweat! Turn away from everyone else! Pretend you're too hot and just getting some air!"  And then your eagle-eyed coach spots you and approaches you like an injured puppy and you feel even sillier.  Needless to say, I needed a few days to recover. 

There is nothing more humbling than knowing what you were able to do, and not even coming close to matching it.  I wasn't gone for long, but it was long enough to feel like I've regressed back to junior high, with the bad hair and not being able to run a mile.  But really, I probably needed this.

What's the best way to challenge your abilities? Throw a curve ball.  I could have kept going through the summer, and I might have made some more gains in my lifts or been able to drop a band for my pull-ups.  Here is a real opportunity to test my growth and character.  

I have the privilege of being friends and working out with the nicest person on the planet, and she made a very good point: "This is the worst it's going to get. Tomorrow will be better. Just keep going."

So that's what I'm going to do. I'm just going to keep going.  I know where I was, I know where I can get to again, and I know that my body is doing the best it can.  Just keep going.