Strong

In February 2011, I started an incredible journey of health, fitness, strength, and smaller clothes sizes.  I know I said, and I'm pretty sure I wrote, that if I could get back to the way I looked at 18 that I'd never let it go.  I lied.  I got there.  I shocked myself, to be sure.  Actually, I think there was a window of time where I was more fit than I had ever been in my entire life.  I mean, I had muscles, real muscles.  Little ones, but you could see them.   In no time, I let it slip away.  Not entirely.  But, enough.  My pre-February 2011 pants would still fall of me, but at the start of this summer I was down to only one regular push up, and I hardly ever run anymore.  The physical strength I had worked so hard to gain was dwindling.

In February of 2012, I was in the best physical condition of my adult life, which is a nice place to be at 41.  My kids were doing well, my husband had a job he loved, and was gaining accolades and recognition for his achievements there.  Things were looking up for us!  I was working 15 hours a week teaching art at a preschool, working out on my off days, and preparing and eating healthy foods.   And then in March of 2012, the bottom fell out.  I couldn't eat anything.  I was still working out.  But I quickly approached too skinny.  In an effort to gain some weight, I ate and drank whatever I wanted.  Or, whatever I felt like I could.  And that became my new habit.

Then I got a job, and didn't have as much time (or energy) to work out between long days at school, and the kids sports, and activities.  My boot camp didn't fit into my work schedule,  I am a group exerciser, and I don't do zumba (if you've ever gone dancing with me you know why).  On my own, I give up too quickly.  And I was working out mostly on my own.  There was also adjusting to a new way of life, it was not easy, but not an excuse either.  I have to admit that I was mad at myself.  I think that in rediscovering my athletic self, I had rediscovered actual self, and so quickly, I was letting her go.  It was frustrating, but there are only so many hours in a day, and only so much that one person can do.  I was going through a lot.

The second year was a little better.  My work schedule seemed more normal and less overwhelming.   I had become accustomed to the juggling of kids, work, and the house.  My regular boot camp offered a 2 day a week after school option which was a perfect solution for me, but I did nothing on my off days, even though I promised myself that I would.  It was enough to keep me kind of fit, but not quite strong, and it wasn't enough to make most of my nearly new pants fit again!

I was pretty excited when I learned there would be a 4 day a week program for the summer through the boot camp that helped me get fit from the start.  It was a little bit like having my old life back for a few weeks!  So, this summer, I worked out diligently M-TH at 9am with some of the same ladies I worked out with back in the day.  It was mostly wonderful.  I hated it sometimes (towel workout day, for example).  But, many days I would close my eyes, and lift the weights, and think to myself, this might just be my happy place.  In 6 weeks, I improved.  I got stronger and faster.  I can do 10 regular push ups again, which if you have seen my arms, is a feat not to be taken lightly!  My abs are coming back into view, and my nearly new pants still don't fit, but they are close.  And, I think that is good.  If they fit perfectly, I might get lazy again.  Instead, knowing it's within reach, I will keep at it.  I love being strong (which I realize is a relative term).

Looking back at what I have endured in my life, I have to say sometimes I think it sounds like the life of the friend of a friend that you hear about over coffee and think, "I cannot imagine that".  I sometimes cannot believe that I have actually lived though it.  It's surreal.  The fact that I am still standing to tell the tale, well, it amazes me sometimes.  This really is my life.   And, I am forever thankful that going into it all I was physically strong, and capable.  I think somehow it translated into being strong and capable in the face of unthinkable adversity.  It helped me immeasurably.  It gave me the strength I needed to carry on, to care for my children, to find a job, and to do the things I had to do.  It gave me the strength to believe that I could.