Sore vs Pain

On my Facebook memories for today I was reminded about my trip to Atlanta 2 years ago to attend the mid-season premiere viewing party with some of my zombie friends at an Atlanta bar. It was a fun trip. I flew in on a Saturday and met my friend Tracey to see some Walking Dead locations and we hung out at the cool goat farm art coffee house where they filmed some of The Hunger Games.

Then Sunday I slept in and had room service and took a shower before I ubered to the bar and met my friends for some Walking Dead trivia and watched the fantastic episode. The next day I flew home. Here are some of the things my Facebook memories had to say:

Travel is good for you! It's good for your mind and your spirit. Just being in a different place and seeing different things. Being away from your normal life. It's just good for you.

Wow! Fibro is a bitch. I am sitting crying in pain and exhaustion just from standing and going thriugh the security line and it's taking 10 minutes to get my shoes back on and get up to catch the train to the gate. I'm so glad I pushed myself to come here. It was so much fun. I'm 51 and feel 101. And I look exhausted with 10 chins in my pictures. But that's who I am now. Off I go...to the gate! My luggage is cute!!

I had forgotten how much pain I was in on the way home until I read that again. I remember now sitting on a bench putting my shoes on after going through the security check and feeling like I had to learn how to accept that I was a person who had to live with chronic pain now. I remember crying in pain and a depression of sorts trying to make sense of it.

Now things are so much different. I just don't feel the same pain anymore. It's only been about 6 months of this change-of-pain living. I have pain sensations in my body at different times, but I don't have chronic, persistent, unrelenting pain anymore. This is a huge distinction. It's the unrelenting nature that changes you.

When my trainer mentions that I might be sore, it's interesting to me. I suppose I do get sore occassionally. But maybe because of my history with pain, I just don't care. Sore is easy to handle. Sore you notice when you sit down or when you walk or when you turn a certain way. It isn't present constantly. Sore you know is temporary. Sore doesn't affect your emotions. Sore leads to something good. I just don't mind sore.

I'm still amazed that my pain has gone somewhere. I am so grateful that it has. I so enjoy working out and using my muscles and getting stronger and having fun doing interesting things. The tomboy in me is having a blast. And I am grateful to have a place to go and a friendly face to see there. To feel 41 or 31 instead of 101 now. I don't have to teach myself to accept a life of chronic pain anymore. I don't have to make sense of that. I don't care if I can't make sense of how the pain went away. I'm just glad it went!

My Trainer Was Smirking Today

My trainer was smirking today when I was doing some regular push ups. Not knee push ups, but regular push ups. They were not very low push ups. I just lowered myself a tiny bit, but I did them. I had to do the last 2 of the 12 after a little rest, but I did them. I don't know why he was smirking, but he was smirking.

I always tell him he can smile. I wonder sometimes what he is like with his other clients who have different personalities than I have.

I have an unusual gym personality. I don't say a lot about the actual exercises we're doing. I talk sometimes, but I I don't ask how I'm doing or I don't comment about if things are hard or easy or ask if I'm doing okay.

And he doesn't do a lot of commenting either. He will say one or two words or use a nod or a gesture to let me know I'm on the right track. Or he'll let me know playfully if I need to do something over because it was weak or ugly.

He is just the right style for me. He doesn't yell or push in mean ways and he doesn't over compliment or over encourage, both of which can be too distracting, fake, dramatic and embarassing.

He's very minimalist, observant and attentive. He likes to break down little bits of information and model things so I can see and feel how the tiny shifts are important, which is very helpful.

I was thinking back on when I first started and I wanted to make sure he knew I couldn't jump or do anything high impact and I had limitations because of my Fibromyalgia. Now that I know him, I think that he knew then that he would trick me into moving past those limitations. Now I am doing jump squats and burpees and have moved from knee push ups to regular push ups. And he is smirking.

I like getting to the reps that are so hard that I can't do them and have to really struggle and he has to add his finger and help me or he has to tell me to stop and then I wait a minute and do the last few after a tiny break. I like that. I like that feeling. I like falling because I haven't done something and I don't know how it feels yet. I like doing ball throws against the wall the second time when I have the hang of it a little better and can make one of the 5 throws really crash against the wall.

I like that when I did my burpees today, when I jumped back I landed steady on the floor and when I jumped forward I landed flat on my feet instead of on my toes. I like that I was smirking in my head the whole time I was doing those burpees because I knew that they were so much better and smoother and more solid than they had ever been before.

I hope I can get my trainer to smirk again soon!

I've Had Mentors, but Now I Have a Coach

Maybe the reason I am so enamored with my personal trainer and my training is because I've never had a coach before. A really good coach. I've had mentors and role models, but never a coach.

I was a pretty athletic kid, but not athletic enough to be on teams. I was a medium tomboy. I loved hanging out with the boys in the neighborhood and playing sports in the street and yard, but I never made the teams in school.

I swam on the swim team in the neighborhood when I was little, but I had no stamina. As soon as you had to go to there and back, I was out. So my swim ribbons were over at the age of 10.

I played softball in the summers, but never made the school team. I made pom poms or cheerleeding in grade school and Jr. high, but not in high school, because I couldn't do the splits or round-offs. In 7th grade I ran a 220 in gym class in like 38 seconds or something and the teacher asked me to join track. Well, we had to jog miles for practice. I can't jog miles, I run sprints. I lasted a day on the track team.

At home my brothers would tell me they would teach me how to do layups because I just never understood the rhythm of them. They got as far as watching me do one and then they would fall out on the grass laughing at me.

My dad coached me by yelling at me not to hold the mitt in front of my face when he saw me playing catch with my brothers when he got home from work. Because I would get my teeth knocked out catching that way. He did, however, teach me to throw a spiral with a football and I can still throw a mean spiral!!

I did have a good experience in college with intramural football. I was the quarterback of a good team and we had volunteer coaches. We won some tournaments and had tons of fun.

Anyway, as I was training today and watching some of the other people training, I realized that really like having a coach. I love having someone push me just a little bit. I love having someone believe in me and want me to do well.

There is just something a little extra in having someone pick out exercises that are more challenging for you. It's more satisfying to do them and have to push myself and even have to have him say, c'mon, c'mon, and even help a little or even completely having to stop and do the last 2 after a breath than to just do something easier.

I have such a pride in never complaining.  I say I'm sorry if I have to stop or if I do an ugly rep or something, but I refuse to say I am not going to try something. And some days, like today, when I get to the locker room, tears just come out in joy and appreciation and release of every emotion.

I want to make my coach proud. I appreciate having the best coach on the planet. I understand what it is to have a great coach now.

Snow Day

Today I woke up to a winter wonderland of snow. I still planned to go to the 9 o'clock class at the gym, so I got ready to head out, but the class was cancelled and I headed to the couch for a nap instead. But I wanted to enjoy the snow and I didn't want to drive in it so I decided to go for a winter suburban hike instead.

I layered up and headed out to the streets. I like to walk with a destination in mind so I headed to the gym to say hello to my trainer, but he wasn't there, so I just sent him a text instead of my wintery self and turned around for the hike home. I took some pics of some nice snowy trees, too.

On the way home I tried a shortcut to avoid the busy streets that didn't have the sidewalks shoveled. Things were going great for awhile on the side street until I hit a dead end. But that didn't stop me. There was a nice field covered in snow that connected to my street so I stomped right through it with the snow up to my knees leaving a nice line of my footprints for the next person who might need it.

Then tonight I took a nice hot shower and took care of my face with my nice moisturizers and scrubs. I'm all relaxed and clean and ready for tomorrow's training session. It's only 6:15 and I can relax and watch movies or something and hang out on the laptop and enjoy the rest of my snowday.

While I was in the shower, I was thinking about how far I've come in the last year and what might possibly come in the next year. It really does take a good year for the changes to happen in significant, meaningful and more permanent ways. I'm so glad I remember thinking that I wasn't going to worry about results until Christmas when I started last March.

I think it's a big mistake to expect things to happen too quickly. Small changes happen that are important, but if you get discouraged hoping for big things to happen right away, you can miss out on so much. I just noticed today how I am never overfull anymore like I used to be almost my entire life. I used to eat for all the wrong reasons.

My decision making has changed slowly over the last year. It has changed more naturally in ways that will stick. I don't feel deprived or like I'm on a diet. I'm just more mindful and I like the way I feel and the way I choose.

I chose to take a hike today because I wanted to get out and enjoy the snow. Yes, it was exercise. But I didn't worry about figuring out how many miles my route was or how fast I walked. I just walked. I know that many people find motivation in writing things down and having goals, but I've found in the last year that my goals have become bigger because I don't write them down anymore. I'm not beholden to numbers anymore. I treat every day like a snow day.

My Trainer is my Block!

That's not a typo! He's not my rock; he's my block! My yoga block! I've been thinking about the props in yoga. So many people try not to use them because they think of them in the wrong way. They are not crutches; they are props.

Props support you and keep you in position, but not because you are weak. Prop in slang is a nice word, too.  Props. Your propers. Proper. Appropriate. Respect.

You're showing yourself respect by supporting yourself. Prop. Propel. The support you give yourself can propel you further than if you would try to do things without the proper and appropriate support.

Props in yoga, specifically, the yoga block, give you support and allow you to maintain the integrity of the pose. Allow you to maintain your balance in the pose. Allow you to keep calm and strong in your pose. Allow the beauty of the pose to come out.

That's what my trainer does for me. A trainer is not a crutch.  I don't have him because I'm weak. I have him because I respect myself. I need support. I need balance. I want to make sure I maintain the integrity of my work. I want to make sure I stay calm and strong in my work. I want to allow my beauty to come out.

Yoga and Training: Be present!

Yoga and strength training have so much more in common than you might think. I've mentioned the connections before, but I noticed them again today. I went to yoga yesterday and I trained today. A few things came up today in training.

Khris mentioned that the people out in the gym who do their own thing seem to think that the people who get trained get their butts whipped by the trainers, but what really happens is we are doing the exercises properly. We are using correct form. We aren't just going through the motions.

That's what having a trainer can do for you, among other things.  (He also has made me progress by having me do such a wide variety of exercises: repeating certain things, adding new, creative things all the time, and going back to things; it's not the same circuit of exercises and just adding reps or weight as I improve. It's a completely different thing than you might imagine. But that's a whole post in itself.)

My trainer watches and teaches and corrects the tiny things that make big differences. Just like in yoga, the tiny adjustments make big differences in your poses.

A good yoga teacher will let you know if your hips should be pointing forward instead of to the side or if your front foot should be aligned with your back instep. Or if you can use a block to bring the earth up to you so you're not rounding your spine. I've moved my hips or my shoulders so slightly after good instruction, and had my yoga teacher say, yes, and I can feel the difference.

Today I did some new things with the battle ropes and just tiny adjustments with how I held the ropes and where I put my fingers and if I stepped in a half-step made a huge difference in the fluidity of the movement of the ropes.

So many times in life we look to make huge changes or we wait until we can make major adjustments, when the big changes come from starting now. Starting where we are. From paying attention to the little things. Paying attention to the details. Simply paying attention, period.

In both yoga and strength training, you have to pay attention. Pay attention to your teachers. Pay attention to your breath. Pay attention to your form. Pay attention to how you feel. Pay attention. Be strong in the struggle. Let go in the struggle. Be calm in the struggle. Be present in the struggle.

All lessons for off the mat and outside the gym!

Aim for the Head!

I just woke up in the middle of the night, which I don't do much anymore, and for some reason I started thinking about why the story of my closets last January seems to come up so much in my blog. I think it's really where things started happening for me in some significant ways. Looking back it might be more meaningful than I realized at the time.

Art by League of 1

At the time it was a conscious decision to start living in the present moment more. I knew I had issues with getting caught up with focusing too much on the future and living in my head. I still live in my head too much, but I'm much better at getting out of the future. I noticed that I'm much happier when I focus on the now. I get myself in trouble when I let myself get entangled in the future.

I live alone so I was able to attack it by pulling everything out of both my hall closet and my bedroom closet and even my linen closet and putting it on the floor. I wanted the closets to be completely empty and nothing to go back in them unless it belonged. I knew it was not the normal way to do things, but it was what I needed at the time.

I needed to face it. I needed to make sure I didn't do a little bit and then not really do it completely. I needed to make sure I didn't just organize it without really purging and getting rid of everything that needed to go because I got tired in the middle of doing it. I needed it to be done right.

Looking back at that now, I see that perhaps, for me, it was so important a task because it visually represented denial. I could keep the house clean and neat and still have my closets filled with crap I didn't need, didn't want, and that wasn't organized the way I wanted. Other people might never see it, but I knew it was there. I might not think about it all the time, but when I opened the closet doors, there it was weighing me down and reminding me that my shit was not as together as I made it out to be.

If I wanted to break through denial in other areas of my life, maybe I needed to break through there first. Maybe I needed to literally walk through and over the excess and the mess in my house for a month and look at it to see it. Maybe I needed to slowly chip away at it an hour a day and then live my life with the mess still with me to finally see that I can survive with the mess and if I just keep working at it, I will eventually get some control over the mess.

Art by Justin Hillgrove 

If I just put the mess back in the closet so I can live my life without looking at it, I will never get control of it. I may look like I have control of it, but it's still there. It's still controlling me from behind those doors and drawers.

Something I have always loved about the idea of zombies is that they are ugly. They are ugly yet they really aren't They aren't ugly because they were beautiful human beings and spirits once. Something happened to them that took away their souls and made them hunger for the flesh of the living to keep them alive. But they are not malicious. They have no ill-will. No evil intent.

They are ugly and they force us to look at them. There is so much ugly in life that must be faced. Like a zombie, even though the ugly in our lives might not have intentional evil intent, it still must be lived with at times. But often it must simply be killed. You can't just hide, wound or push away the zombie that is attacking you. It will keep coming. We can't just hide or push away denial or mess in our lives; it will keep coming. We must face it and we must kill it.

Aim for the head!!!