Sometimes a day off OR two OR three is necessary if everyone wants to live

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(Thursday)

Box Pistols – 5X10 (5 each leg)

Pull-Ups – 3X5

Dips – 3X5

Leg Raises – 3X10

Can I get a do over?

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I look at the tiny creature perched at my feet. He’s looking at me because he wants to play. I stare back at him with my phone camera, he’s become used to having it in front of him.

I think about my day as I swing kettlebells and the sweat drips down my back. It’s gross and makes me feel uncomfortable, I keep swinging away. I tell the dog to move when he comes into my space, the last thing I need is for his tiny body to meet the girth of a kettlebell that weighs twice what he does.  I think about the conversation with my brother-in-law and how he fueled the fire of a new adventure. I ponder the adventure and despite my husband’s uneasiness with it, I’ll proceed anyway.

Because I’ve reached a point where I have to make a decision about things and stick with those things despite what anyone says.

I toss cards that finally let me read them, at least this time. They tell me good things. They tell me proceed. I know better than to question the Universe twice. It’s not a big risk this adventure, it’s a regret. It’s a regret that I can easily turn into a non-regret. It’s almost a do-over. I think “I’m back in the same place, literally the same place I was eight years ago…but now I’m wiser. Now, I’ve learned lessons! Now, I feel like I’m being given a second chance. Now I don’t have time to waste. Don’t waste it!” I’ve come full circle with a bag full experience at my feet and with a very different perspective on life. Perhaps I shouldn’t regret, perhaps this was a way for me to learn and be ready for this adventure, that I was NOT ready for eight years ago.

So many fears crop up but yet this lingering voice inside me keeps whispering to “Do it, do it!” And as my HSP self processes this I can see so many good and wonderful things that can come out of this!

It’s not a gamble, it’s an answer. It’s a yes. It’s a move forward with this dummy so in eight more years when you look back you won’t be saying for the millionth time “Why didn’t I just do it!”

KB Swings – 100 Swings (Sets of 10)

Goblet Squats – 50 Reps (Sets of 10)

Turkish Get-Ups – 10 Total (5 each Side)

Things that make sense

pistol16 weeks ago we joined a gym. We went, we stopped, we went again. I grew tiny biceps but the soft parts refuse to go away. I find balance. I fall off the wagon and I get back on again. It’s not an easy ride. There are plenty of bumps along the way. I keep reminding myself I haven’t been at it very long yet, forgiveness is necessary.

I still want to lift heavy and I heave sighs at the squat rack in the gym when I’m there, it’s always busy.

I heave sighs at it because I really enjoyed it! I found a rhythm and a flow. I found strength in lifting more than half my body weight! Perhaps the Universe is sending me a sign, a way of telling me that what I need in the long run may be more important that what I want right now. Can my highly sensitive body really sustain lifting heavy amounts of weight? Is true strength about using the weight of my body rather than just picking up and putting down heavy shit? Will my joints hate me later for it?

I go back and forth with this notion. I  ask my body what it needs. I experiment with food and weights and yoga and I write about it. I listen to Podcasts about health and wellness, sometimes they are too New Age-y for me, speaking in vibrations and energy patterns. I know I need to rewrite patterns but it has to be in a way that makes sense to me.

Yoga makes sense, good food makes sense and weights make sense.

Writing makes sense.

Box Pistols – 5X20 (10 each leg)

Pull-Ups – 3X10

Dips – 3X10

Leg Raises – 3X10

Sometimes bad t.v wins

badtvIt’s evening and I’m tired. I’m beyond tired. I think to myself it’s only Monday. I’ve laid on the couch with my dog, and my husband watching terrible television. I keep telling myself in 15 minutes I’ll get up and do the dishes. I tell myself, I need to get up and write and do the dishes, and walk the dog. The show I’m watching is really terrible but my tired body cannot seem to lift itself from the couch. I try to decide what order I’ll do things, do I write first? Dishes first? Walk the dog first? This is how I know I’m over tired, when I start debating on what task to do first when all the tasks are pretty simple.

I decide to write first, then the dishes, then the dog. If I walk the dog last, there will be less chance he’ll wake me up at 4 am.

I decide that all the other things I wanted to do…like start the manifesto, vacuum the floors, dust the furniture, will just have to wait another day.

Mobility warm up

KB Swings – 100 Swings (Sets of 10)

Turkish Get-Ups – 10 Total (5 each Side)

The soft parts

sideangleI am not in my twenties any longer, I’m not even in my thirties. My body is soft, inflexible and unwilling. My body is highly sensitive and a much younger version of myself could withstand so much more than my current self. Late nights, food that was so tasty, yet so bad for you. I could run around for days on end fueling myself with nicotine, caffeine and Doritos and 4 hours of sleep.

I have to baby myself now. I have to listen closely to what this body tells me. I have to ignore the insensitive comments that people make about my sensitive body, such as “I’m so glad I’m not like you! I can eat anything I want!! I can do whatever I want!! I don’t tell them that in my 20’s and 30’s I could too. I have to stop myself from giving them warnings that the body can only handle so much and that treating it like a temple truly is a good thing! They are young, they are full of it, just like I was then.

Now my belly is soft, with pudgy spots. It sticks out like a tiny buddha belly begging to be rubbed for wishes. It used to be flat and I was a straight line. Short and lean, now there are curves and soft parts in places that were straight lines. There are bulges on my thighs where there once wasn’t any. My husband still grabs my butt and says I’m the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen and he loves every inch of me even if I don’t some days.

And when he left to run errands this afternoon I rolled out my mat. I parked my soft stomach and bulgy thighs and butt on that mat and I practiced for an hour. A long delicious hour, where I let go of what I used to be and accepted what I am, soft belly, bulges and all.

Yoga – one hour practice with a 10 minute warm up.

Horror movies the rest of the afternoon and falling asleep on the couch.