This will be a bit ugly. Probably more for me than you. As you know, I have been on a big one for sometime now. Sure I just turned…middle aged…but that’s less to the point than the fact that I have been raising children my whole adult life and still have one who’s not even three yet.
True, he’s advanced for his age. Still, I don’t think he will be supporting himself and living on his own in the next ten years. What that means to me is that the time has come to get on with whatever I had planned on doing once my kids grew up…because they might not grow up before I get old and die. And lets be honest, since they are all boys they may never grow up. Fact.
So onward ho. That’s not to say that I’m a hoe, more to the point, it’s time to get on with things.
I grew up in a non-sporty family. Oh, I was in sports, it’s not that my family is not capable of athletic endeavors, put simply, sports are not in my family’s culture, not to join sports, or play them, or for that matter, join anything. So it was not until I was in highschool that I learned all the cool things other adults did that involved some form of athleticism. Understand that I have always been a physical person, strong and active. While I thought the notion of a marathon or even a (in those days) “fun run” (read 5K) or better a triathlon or iron man sounded like a fun thing, I was not especially compelled to part-take.
In my twenties I was close friends with my, then, boss when she embarked on training and competing in a series of duathlons and triathlons and various running or swimming competitions. Still, I never felt compelled to do more than cheer for her, I had my own ambitions and challenges and was enjoying non-competitive sports year round.
I was privileged to live in Bend Oregon and have a ski pass to Mt Bachelor with plenty of willing ski partners in the winter. In the spring and fall found myself climbing anywhere there were rocks, but namely Smith Rock just outside of Terrebonne Oregon. I was spoiled by white water rafting and kayaking adventures in the summer and a myriad of camping and hiking trips even mountain biking day trails. It never crossed my mind that I would one day wish to partake in anything other than all out play.
Fast forward a decade…or so…and I find myself engulfed in all things kids and child rearing, I realize that at one point I was nursing, pregnant then nursing a baby again and that I had let that become an excuse to not have a life outside of my home. I had gone soft. In my defense I modestly claim that my “soft” was still tougher than that of the average housewife. Ask around, if you want. Anyway, I suddenly realized that I had kinda set “me” aside.
I live someplace where being fit is prized but the readily available was not always accessible to a mother of four. I embarked anyway. Slow at first. Yoga, walking and meditation. Then harder walks, hikes and eventually running. I got really ambitious after the initial few months as I became more certain of my goal and more clear on my intent. When I sat down and said, out loud, to myself, “You cannot do this passively, it’s going to be full intent and conscience effort in every breath. This cannot be passive…make it hurt.” So I did and then after a few HARD weeks I got to this.
and this was good for me. This made me feel like I was getting somewhere. So more work and bigger goals and lots and lots of planks, and running, and wts and even more careful food selections, eventually weeks later…they didn’t feel short in the middle of it all but looking back it wasn’t so long…I eventually got to where I sit today. A bit stuck…here is the picture.
It might not even be a noticable difference to someone who hasn’t been there before, put in the work, but to me and in person…it’s noticeable. The pros: rock hard tummy, flat…unless I eat a whole plate of pasta…I feel strong, I love my bikini again, I see how far I have come, actually I feel it. I can do things that I couldn’t before all because of that core strength.
What’s the problem you’re wondering. Here it is. As I was licking peanut butter off the spoon late at night recently, this man, who happens to be my husband looks over to me, (he knows things about my drive and what compels me more than most…and he understands as well as anyone but save maybe my sisters what drives me, less why, just that I am and there is no rationalizing with me on some things) so he looks over to me and says,
“I can get you there if you let me.”
“Where,” I say. (so naive)
“To your goals, that last ten lbs, the six pack, get your mile times down to seven and a half minute miles…all of it.” That was his answer
NO, I said, you know why? Because, one, you are going to make me give up peanut butter. Two, I need to be able to hate my coach a little, sometimes a lot. Why would you want that?? I need to be able to have you in my court when I need a scoop of love…I mean peanut butter. Actually I substitute in peanut butter for all the bad stuff…instead of ice-cream, 600 calories of peanut butter, instead of chocolate it’s 500 calories of peanut butter, instead of any of those other tricky foods…you got it, peanut butter…
That’s my answer. I am pretty sure it didn’t come out so articulate but on the other hand I was pretty clear. He’s a brave man I tell you.
Here I thought I was doing so well too… I currently don’t have a coach…now I can’t help but think I need one, but they’d have to be okay with me hating them a little…