Reviving Motivation

It's funny how something comes along at just the right time when you need a battery re-charge.  That is what working with Rick to accomplish our fitness goals has been for me.   It's fun to think up workouts that will not only challenge him, but me as well, and to eat as clean as possible so that I'm doing exactly what I ask of him.   This new chapter of my journey came along at a time when I needed to be held more accountable and get stricter on what I eat.  I was never back to eating Doritos on the couch, my personal metaphor for going back to bad ways, but I had allowed myself too many treats here and there at fun summertime events.  And lo and behold, after buckling down the scale was my friend again and I dropped four pounds at this weeks' weigh-in.   This got me thinking about motivational re-charges and the hard task of bringing back the magic so to speak when you feel you've lost it and don't have any idea of how to get it back.  

Walking up the hill from the parking deck to my office this morning, I was suddenly struck with a memory of myself, 104 pounds ago, struggling up this short distance, winded, feeling like I was walking through sinking sand, struggling for breath from a very short walk up just a slight incline.  In fact back in those days, I would have to stop a the halfway point, feigning looking through my purse for something or answering a phantom phone call so that my coworkers wouldn't know that I was just too worn out to finish a walk that was just a matter of a few yards. It was during that time that I stopped going out to lunch with people because I didn't want to make that "trek" more than I had to during the course of the day.  Now I don't go to lunch because I'm in the gym and I've done three 5Ks.  Now I walk in in the morning and don't think twice about my easy stride and steady breathing.   It seems wild to think about that other state of being now. But, sometimes in order to find motivation when we are lacking, it pays to look back and realize how far we've come.

It's way too easy to slide back into old behaviors if you don't keep on your toes.  It happens not with a bang, but little by little until all of a sudden you "wake up" in a state where you're breathless trying to walk into the office.  Trust me, I've been there and done that and I am determined never to go back to that bad place again.   Not that I don't have my times of doubting or wane in motivation.   We all get frustrated, angry or down.  We all find ourselves at the gym some days not feeling it.  We all look at a piece of cake, or some french fries, or a box of donuts and think to ourselves, "why not this one time?"  If you feel your resolve or motivation waning, here are a few things that have worked for me:

• Imagining the way I felt at my heaviest and how polar opposite life is now.
• Finding someone I want to catch up with and working out with them.  Good gossip makes the time go by.
• When I'm feeling frustrated I find my angriest music and take my aggressions out on the punching bag.  It's great cardio and helps the mental state as much as it does the waist line.
• Making short term goals.
• Feeling the way my clothes feel now and remembering how uncomfortable I used to feel.
• Writing, whether its on this blog or in a journal.
• Finding someone like Rick that I can be accountable to and who can be accountable to me.
• Shaking up my workout with something I like (like karate or a game like workout poker) that feels like fun and not like work.
• Remembering the past, the aches and the pains that are no longer a part of my life.
• Enjoying the present and the awesome spot I am in today, even though I'm not at my goal yet.
• Imagining the future and how I will feel and what I will do when I get to my goal.

Finding motivation and keeping it going is often hard and something we all struggle with whether we have five, fifty or one hundred pounds to lose.  We get frustrated, down on ourselves, mad at ourselves or others...all of which are deadly triggers that have the potential to derail us or even make us want to jump off our path to our goals.  During these times sometimes the best route to motivation and determination is to simply fake it until you make it.  It's a tired old saying yes, but if you do it long enough...it definitely works. 

I Didn't Want to Write This Post

I almost didn't write this post.  In fact, I've been contemplating it, writing it, erasing it, shaking my head and writing it again.  No one likes to admit defeat...least of all me.  I like to bee bop along in my positive bubble where my workouts are always great and the scale is ever my friend.  I don't want to admit that sometimes the scale doesn't always go down and sometimes it goes up and some times I feel tired and some times I feel like I really can't do this at all.   I don't want to admit these things because these are the things I fear.  I fear that slip in judgement now and again because I'm so totally terrified of going back to my old ways...like it's some inevitable black hole that churns out there, waiting to swallow me in.  I hold myself to the insane standards of your typical Type A, carrying on a mental battle of the rule of 100%...either I'm all in, or I'm all out.  Either I'm eating perfect every day, or I'm eating bad every day. 

It is with this mindset that I approached the scale today for the baseline weigh-in for our new challenge.  There was the same scale that exalted me to new heights several months ago, and there was my trainer with his pen and paper ready to record what I knew was not going to make me happy.  I wasn't the only one of us "veterans" that felt this way.  When our program ended, those of us still at it today did great with our workouts, even going above and beyond the things we did in the program, but we got disorganized about our weigh-ins, some of us stopping weighing in all together and while it's liberating to concentrate on fitness rather than being a slave to that box in the corner of the gym that flashes up numbers that can make or break you, you have to have accountability too. In my case, we've had a couple of months of really awesome weekends and while I've been pushing harder than ever in the gym, I've let myself have too good of a time with what I eat.

So...the scale was up a little bit, and I spent the rest of the afternoon kicking myself, doubting myself, and generally feeling hateful in my own skin.  Then, because it plays 50 times an hour, the Gym Class Heroes song "The Fighter" came on the radio and I started listening to the lyrics.  I started thinking about Rocky, one of my favorite movie characters, and how many times he took a beat down and got back up.  He might have been staggering, bloody, and drunkenly calling "Adrian" but he went the distance...even in the last Rocky movie where he tells his son, "It ain't about how hard you hit, it's about how hard you can get hit and keep moving forward."   Then I thought about the advice I'd give anyone in the same situation which is: shake it off, do better, and keep going.  After all, how silly is it of me to expect perfection out of myself?  How idiotic to think things are 100% one way or the other? I'd never judge someone else against those parameters, so why was I doing that to myself?  Isn't it that kind of thinking that always held me back in the past?  Isn't that why I was never successful at this before?  Aren't I the one who sets my own destiny not some loop of the same old thing?  Isn't the "new" me the real me and the old me a thing of the past? 

So I didn't want to write this post but it's helped me to discard a temporary "defeat" and move forward.  It's helped me realize a destructive pattern in myself so that I will not be doomed to repeat it.  So I thought, maybe it might help someone else.   I had my little "vacation" from the scale and now it's time to "straighten up and fly right" as my Mema likes to say.  It's renewed my fight.  Here's some lyrics:

The Fighter, Gym Class Heroes:
Until the referee rings the bell
Until both your eyes start to swell
Until the crowd goes home
What we gonna do ya'll?

Give em hell, turn their heads
Gonna live life til we're dead.
Give me scars, give me pain
Then they'll say to me, say to me, say to me
There goes a fighter, there goes a fighter
Here comes a fighter
That's what they'll say to me, say to me
Say to me, this one's a fighter.

Meet Your Trainers

"Meet your trainers for the month of July."

That was the declaration Jeff and Marisa (my former trainers) said to the current Transformation group that followed us (the original crew) after telling them to assemble in the gym for a game twist.  Standing before them as the "trainers" were four of us from last years' group.  The "new" group immediately started clapping with excitement to my immense relief.  Although those of us in the room from the old team had recruited most of the group, I wasn't sure how they'd like this new twist that took them away from their professional trainers and put them in our hands for a month.

It was a proud moment for me, a former couch potato who knew next to nothing about fitness, that not only did Jeff and Marisa trust us with these guys, but that they were happy about it.   And there was another twist:  if the eleven of us collectively could lose 50 pounds in the month of July, Jeff and Marisa would train all of us together for the month of August. Once those of us (Millie, Flo, Dana, and I) who had been on our own for a while heard that, you could believe that we were bound and determined to make it happen.  I felt my inner Jillian Michaels wake up and start to stir. 

Even better, my "client" turned out to be my buddy Rick who I helped recruit into the second round.  Throughout my year of the program Rick had been a constant support and cheerleader for me, and we couldn't wait to work together.

So to use a Hunger Games reference, it's back to the arena for a few of us original members.  Back to Tuesday weigh ins and being accountable on the scale again.  We've all been faithful in the gym, but this renewal has caused us to tighten up on our food choices and rekindled our competitive spirits. 

For our first workout together today, I decided to take it back to my old school workouts where I'd put on my music and wail away on the heavy bag.  I told Rick that every Monday was going to be Cardio Monday and we proceeded to do a heavy bag-elliptical machine circuit where we'd switch back and forth in five minute increments for an intense half hour that left us dripping with sweat.  At the end I almost felt like I had to throw up...always the sign of a good workout in my line of craziness. 

As I showed Rick how to punch the bag in the proper form, how to twist his hips as he struck, and shared with him how I used to come down and do this exact thing when I was first starting out, channeling all my frustrations with my body into that black bag to an angry music playlist, I realized how far I've come and what a cool thing it was to help someone else do the same thing. 

3rd 5K

So I said I was done with 5Ks for the summer due to the increasing heat...well I guess I was wrong about that.   When my husband, who obviously has caught the 5K bug from our race last month, said he wanted to do the local Blueberry Festival 5K, I grimaced. 

"It's gonna be hot." I said.

"You don't have to do it," he said. "I can do it by myself."  Ah reverse psychology, you know me so well.  Of course I was going to do it, if not for anything other than the shear fear that the minute I say I can't do something I'll be on that slippery slope back to my old ways. 

I prepared myself for the stifling conditions that usually accompany the Blueberry Fest (people literally fall out from the heat) but God blessed us with wonderful temperatures, a sunny day, and a shady flat course.   It was by far the biggest 5K I've done with upwards of 500 runners/walkers.

Like usual, my group (husband, sister and myself) got to the very back of the crowd that included my friends, cousins, and co-workers.  The music played, the runners stretched themselves in various positions, the serious competitors bounced up and down on their heels...and the three of us just hung out in the back making jokes and trying not to think about the miles ahead of us.  And then we were off...some of us faster than others that's for sure.

The hubs, my sister, and me...waiting to hit the road.

 

 

My friend and fellow fitness buddy, Vera, and I.

As with the other 5Ks I've done, I was excited to start, hated every footstep of those 3.2 miles, and then felt like a rock star as I crossed the finish line.  So maybe I wasn't finished with 5Ks until cooler temps...just as soon as I say I'm not going to do something, I find myself with some numbers strapped on going down the road.

A Week In The Life

• Monday morning is ushered in by the blare of the alarm clock and shock and awe that the weekend is over. 
• Have a lovely time trying to find gym socks that match in the load of clean clothes that were neglected in all-day trip to the beach the previous day. Give up trying to establish problem solving skills and decide instead on one with a green stripe and one with a pink stripe, hoping in the mad rush in the locker room no one will notice.
• Drag into work, the strap of the gym bag cutting into the freshly sunburned flesh on my shoulder with a sinking premonition of how good my sports bra is going to feel going on later. 
• Show up early to Sculpt class in anticipation of staking out my usual spot on the back row.  Put down strategic sticky note with name on it so that my spot won't get snaked while I'm in the locker room...realize others have done the same.
• Power through Sculpt in a standing room only crowd...chat between crunches with girlfriends set to a soundtrack of Pitbull and Lady GaGa.  Decide I have Cirque Du Soleil acrobatic skills while doing mountain climbers with gliders on my feet...lose footing and almost twist self into human pretzel and decide it is just the opposite.
• Creep out of bed to the cries of the Tuesday morning alarm, again shocked that it's already morning. Immediately feel yesterday's deep lunges and do a nice little rap of "ouch, ouch, ouch" on the way to the shower.
• Show up at the gym and realize that I accidentally booked the workout room for 3 instead of 2 so the girls doing Brazilian Butt Blast have the room instead of my group.  Improvise and lead the group in workout poker out in the gym.  Try not to think of what we look like doing starfish crunches out in front of everyone.  Also discover potential sabotage as the stopwatch my trainer loaned me cranks out the longest minute intervals known to man.  The girls and I conclude that it must be rigged.
• Wednesday brings with it hurting muscles and a challenging Step class.  At the end of the class I resemble one of the zombie dancers from the Thriller video and look as if I've traveled through a Brazilian rain forest.  Spend the rest of the day doing a fine Godzilla impression limping from my desk to the copy room and back.
• Roll into Tabata class today to see that the room has been set up in stations, one being fun with a hula hoop.   Realize quickly that all the Zumba hip swinging skills I've developed can't help me at all with the hula hoop.  Finish up the circuit rotating the hoop around my neck and work up a good enough sweat. The sweat continues to build until the plank rotation round and I'm literally sliding around the floor.  Attempt plank on flat yoga mat...too slippery.  Attempt plank on thick mat and continue to slide. Move over to planking on the floor and find hands continue to slide out from under me.  Decide that this adds to the challenge of my plank and soldier through to the mountain climber-glider round where the humidity increases my "acrobatics". 
• Collapse into chair tonight relishing the fact that tomorrow is an off day at the gym in anticipation of my third 5K on Saturday morning.
• Question my sanity again as I do before any 5K and decide to limp on off to bed.

"The Cure For Anything is Salt Water"

My sister and I after a day in the pool.

There have been a few summers in my life that I didn't enjoy very much because I didn't feel very good physically or about myself.  There have been a few summers I sat on the sidelines and watched everyone else enjoy my favorite activities (precisely what's going on in the "before" picture in my blog banner).  But for the most part I have been a summer-loving water baby. Last summer I attacked life with a new found vigor that came from my release from an unhealthy lifestyle and unwanted pounds.  This summer has started out, and is going to be, even better.  

Summer can also be a great time to boost your weight loss activities.  Some of the reasons why:

• We trade comfort food for healthier fare cooked outside on the grill.
• The abundance of fresh fruits and veggies: some of my favorites being tomatoes, corn on the cob, and watermelon.
• You always strive harder when you know you have to put on a bathing suit the next day.
• Water activities that make exercise fun.
• Fresh air that reinvigorates the spirit.
• You don't want to eat as much when it's hot.
• Added resistance from the sand brings an extra calorie burn to a walk on the beach.
• Fresh seafood, enough said.
• Summertime always brings out the kid in people, and what do kids do?  They run around, play, and burn calories.
• The higher temps and humidity makes you sweat more...and sweating is always good.
• And last but not least: everyone always looks skinnier with a tan.

I'll close with one of my favorite quotes: "The cure for anything is salt water - sweat, tears, or the sea”~ Isak Dinesen.

Laser Tag Therapy

If you've ever worked out with a trainer, or a tough workout partner that pushes you, or even a challenging aerobics instructor, at some point, no matter how much you like to push it or how strong your commitment, your feelings toward them can get....how should we say it...cross.  It's an irrational feeling brought on by a moment of exhaustion and desperation, but it happens to the best of us.  Sometimes when they're pushing us to our limits for our own good, we just want to roll our eyes, stick out our tongues, and tell them "No I will not do 25 more squats, one more mile, 8 more reps"...you get the point.  A good trainer will push you beyond where you want to go, regardless of how mad that makes you.  The good thing is that the cross feelings only last momentarily and then you're left with a giddy feeling of accomplishment that makes you believe you can leap tall buildings in a single bound. That's the magic of trainers and I've been blessed to work with some awesome ones.

That being said, when a bunch of us got together to play laser tag, my trainer Jeff included, I was chuckling the evil plan laugh to myself at the fact that I got to shoot at him with a laser gun and - what luck! - we split up into teams of guys versus girls.  Stepping into the smoky, black-lit, rock thumping arena, I had two targets in mind: my trainer Jeff and my husband Eric.

As with many things, my laser tag game looked a lot cooler in my head than in real life...  I was in full-on James Bond mode in my head as I slid along with my back to a wall, laser gun in both hands, head going back and forth, looking in all directions for the enemy.  Creeping down under a low wall, I darted up briefly to take a few shots and then jumped back down to safety.  Yes, in my mind I was a combination of all the Charlie's Angels and Lara Croft rolled into one and Eric and I were in our own personal version of Mr. and Mrs. Smith.  In reality, I got off a few good shots but got hit equally as much if not more...let's just say my powers of stealth and battle strategy are in need of improvement.

All in all it turned out to be a great workout as we all emerged from the laser tag arena sweating like crazy.  I may not have won, but I got to shoot at both my trainer and my husband with a laser gun and that is prize in and of itself! ;)  It was good for the body and the spirit!