Zen and the Art of Personal Training

It's September! One of my favorite times of year. It used to be the time of year when I would go back to work and it would be the beginning of a brand new school year for me and my new students. Now it's the beginning of a brand new year for me.

If I'm not careful, I can forget that fall is an entire season and worry that it ushers in winter, which is okay at the beginning, but is also the hardest time of the year for me from January to April. See what I mean? January to April and it's only September!!

It's my first September in my amazing new apartment. I've been able to maintain my place as far as keeping it neat and clean. I still have a few little projects, but I could have someone come over at any time and it's never messy. I don't have anything I don't need. No clutter!

I've been reading more. I've been on my porch (balcony). I went kayaking one day! I have some luxurious yoga pants for working out! I have a very minimal wardrobe of simple clothes that fit me that I like that I can keep up with washing. And I haven't been in a flare or in true Fibro pain the way I'm used to being in quite some time. I still have fatigue issues, but why even consider that right now. I don't have the normal Fibro pain. It's there if I touch. It didn't go anywhere. But it's not flaring.

So where did it go? My personal trainer took it away.

In August, I joined the cheap gym near me so I could go to yoga classes for only $20 a month instead of $20 a class at the cool studio. I figured I could go to yoga and maybe there would be other classes I might like--I was hoping for a step class and maybe some strength classes with weights. I love classes. I had lost some weight and was ready to add something to help get me out of the house and have a structured workout. I still didn't think I was ready for anything strenuous. I was still very tired all the time and my body really hurt.

So the first time I headed to the gym with my yoga mat for the class and to get my little ID card, there was a sign on the door that the yoga teacher had suddenly quit and there would be no more yoga until they were able to get a new instructor. Oh, well. So, I sat at the registration desk to get my picture taken and get my little scanner card and they said I got a free personal training assessment that I could do right then instead seeing as the yoga class was cancelled and she called over the trainer guy.

Oh, shit. I thought. I do not want a personal trainer. I can't afford a personal trainer and I hate spotlight and tons of questions and I don't want someone yelling at me and telling me everything I'm doing is all wrong and blah, blah, blah, internal dialog. So the guy was pretty nice and he talked to me and he started a few things and he shared his philosophies. But then something else happened. He found every single tight spot and knot in my body and dug into it and had me do things to stretch and work.

There was something about him that just clicked with me. He talked about yoga. He had Buddha tattoos and tattoos of cool phrases and the lotus flower. 

There was just something that was telling me to do this. I signed up for twice a week for 3 months.

Personal training. I don't know how anyone else's personal training works. I don't know how he works with his other clients. I don't know how other personal trainers are. This is my experience with personal training and why it's nothing like I thought it would be and why it's not the training that is the key word, it's the word personal.

As an introvert, I usually like to be invisible when I go places. I don't like a lot of spotlight on me. I'm no good in groups, especially when there are a lot of people watching me or paying attention to me. But I can be very comfortable in one on one situations. Personal training is one on one. If I didn't like my trainer, it would be torture. I would have to be self-conscious and have a persona. But I love him. I can be myself. I'm not trying to please him. I am not in public persona mode. I'm able to be me.

Personal. As an introvert and a sensitive person. I'm usually paying attention to the needs of others and conscious of the energy in the room When I'm being trained, I'm the focus! It's really nice to have someone give me attention for 30-45 minutes for a change. I don't have to give back. It's my time. He's there for me. He's helping me. He wants good things for me. He's making sure my elbows are tucked in and my feet are in the right place and the weight is heavy enough or light enough for me!

Zen and the art of personal training. My personal trainer has this part mastered!! He doesn't motivate by yelling. He doesn't motivate by too many words. He doesn't motivate by telling me he's proud of me. He motivates me by being quiet. He motivates me by giving me things to do that I know are challenging for me. I know he's not babying me because of my age or my size or my illness. He motivates me by listening to me. He tells me stories when I ask him questions, but he doesn't preach.

I can hop on the bike and warm up and zone out for some cardio, but personal training is zen. It's yoga. It's present moment. I look forward to every session I have. My muscles feel challenged. My spirit feels free. My mind is awake.

It's September! New beginnings. I'm about to hit the 50 pound weight loss mark. That's just a number though, just like age.  I feel great. I'm happier in my body and happy with where I am in my life.

Room for Growth

In January of this year, before I even knew I was going to move, I decided to focus more on my present and do some decluttering. I decided that I would take out everything in my closets and put it on the floor. I would purge, organize and if took me a month, then so be it. Well, it took about a month, but I did it.

Then I found out about the renovations at my building and how they were raising the rents and kicking people out, etc. and the process of getting this new place started. I was happy at my old place, but this new place is a different level of a fresh start for me.

What I'm finding out is that the more I focus on being in the moment and being present, the more I'm enjoying my life and the more I'm open to possibilities that I didn't expect.

In March, after years and then more recently months of thinking about losing weight and denial about losing weight, I considered Jenny Craig.  I knew that Jenny Craig was supposed to have good tasting food (Nutrisystem is horrible). I also knew that it was my diet that was the key. I had tried losing weight with exercise and it doesn't work that way.

I decided on a Sunday that I was going to do it and I knew that it was one of those decisions that was a done deal. I had decided. I made an appointment for Monday. I'm still doing the program and I know how to adjust when I don't eat the food and I'm confident that I will lose even more than the 32 that I've lost. I feel good about it. It has taught me portion control and that it's not deprivation, it's freedom.

I used to connect food with love. Food with excitement. Food with fun. Now I connect food with hunger. I connect too much food with heaviness and feeling yucky. I find love, fun and excitement in other places.

Once I started my dieting, I started going back to yoga. Yoga is magic. Yoga is also expensive. But with my Fibro, I don't need to be a yoga rock star. I don't need to go 7 days a week. I started going 2 days a week. I bathed in the calm and the energy of studio. The gorgeousness of the now when you are in a pose or just breathing. I opened myself to the lessons of the mat.

In April, after season 7 of The Walking Dead ended, I decided to stop writing for Undead Walking. I loved UW for many reasons when I did it. I never knew I liked writing. I'm not a journalist, but I do enjoy writing about the characters in the show. I also met so many people through UW. It was a great experience.

But one Sunday night it dawned on me that I'd be writing about Fear, which I don't really love and I'd be tethered to Twitter and writing without new episodes of The Walking Dead until October. I thought of that on the Sunday following the end of Season 7 and I quit that night.

Now that I'm in my new place and the unbalanced time of packing and moving is behind me. Now that the chaos of the boxes and the garbage has made way for the serenity of the empty sink and the made bed, I look around and I am in awe of the space that has opened up in front of me.

I have space now to read. To go back to yoga. To go to the pool. To go shopping. To nap. To Tweet with my Twitter pals. To give myself a facial. To think. To daydream.

All because I started the year deciding to focus on the now and to give myself room to grow.

Two Life Lessons My Brother Never Knew He Taught Me

People always ask about the best advice you've ever received. I've learned 2 great lessons from my brother, but they weren't given to me as pieces of advice. He doesn't even remember them.

Lesson Number One: Not Complaining

When my brother was in college and did an internship, his college newspaper did an article about him and one of the questions was about his pet peeves. His answer for his pet peeve was complainers. I always remember that answer. It wasn't something that I expected. And it wasn't something like traffic or socks with sandals or not using turn signals.

I've noticed that in life since then in different ways. When I was in graduate school during the summer in Mississippi, a girl said to me once, "You never complain. I'm going to stop going on and on."

When I lived in Chicago and picked up my sister-in-law downtown at her work to head back up north to go to a Cubs game and there was a ton of rush hour traffic, she said to me, "Doesn't anything bother you?" I remember saying something like. "Of course, but it's rush hour and there's traffic. We'll get to the game."

Now I'm not saying I don't complain. I do. I am just more aware of it I think. I try not to annoy other people with constant complaining that they have to endure from me. I try to limit my complaining. I try to look at things from the point of view of what I can control and what I can't. And I try to avoid people who do nothing but complain.

This has helped me in my latest struggle with Fibromyalgia. I try my best not to get bogged down in a complaining mindset. I do complain and I long to be understood for my need to rest and I want people to know that I'm not faking or exaggerating my pain.  But I don't think complaining will help them understand me, and I don't want to be seen as a whiner or complainer.

Lesson Number Two: Allowing Room for Growth

When I used to work part time jobs for my brother's company, which provides files and file systems for companies, he once told me that they always leave a certain percentage of the system with empty space and files to allow "room for growth".

That phrase has stuck with me and I've used it in my life in many ways. With organizing and decluttering, it has obvious implications. I've made friends with empty space. If you fill everything completely, leaving no room for growth, the minute one new thing comes in, there's no place to put it and then you put it someplace "for now" or you stuff it in the drawer and what was the beautiful, organized space, now becomes overstuffed and begins to spin out of control.

Empty space is a beautiful thing in the physical environment and in your schedule. My niece and nephew always made fun of me for being on time or early when my other brother is always late. I explained to them my concept of buffer time. I allow a little extra time on both ends of the goal time. That takes care of unforeseen things like traffic, forgetting something and having to go back, an extra trip to the bathroom, a phone call, or stopping for gas, etc. I also like the quiet minutes I have when I arrive early. I don't like to rush all the time.

The minimalist movement is so extreme and takes a lot of energy-I like to just do my own version. I like things. I like happy things and cozy things. But I like to have just enough things and things I really like that allow me to have enough empty space to know what I have and enjoy those things. Empty space makes me feel free. It lets me rest. Lets my eyes rest. Lets my mind rest.

Empty space in the form of time makes my mind rest. When my schedule is not overcrowded, I know my body will not hurt in the same way it does when I overdo and don't build in rest. I know I will not be too tired to enjoy the things I actually do that day. I can browse. I can be present. I am not always living in the future because my present is too cluttered. I have room to grow.

Thanks, Billy! As I settle into my new place and into the next part of my life, I will take with me your lessons of not complaining and allowing room to grow!