Pause

I am in the middle of yet another boot camp which has been fabulous.  Its worked me, made me sore, and I have fun with the challenges of the class.  But the last two days something sighed.

I guess I started reading a lot about exercise and motivation and goals and started overthinking it all.

And then I would see Micah outside getting his hour of more of after school scootering in.  Is he exercising.  Yes.  Does he care about output/input maximizing time and moves and etc?  No.  He is moving because it is what his body and mind needs.  And doing it at his own pace and rhythm.

That is the kind of exerciser I want to be.  Moving for my own joy.  At my pace. 

I also found that good old before and after from Tess's bootcamps.  Wow.  And I had to re-enter my weight for health insurance.  In one year I have lost 10 pounds.

10. 

My body fat has gone from 30 to 26. 

I feel a need to just pause and celebrate.  I finally did it.  That extra weight that I had carried finally left.  And I am not sure why.

Two thoughts on why.  I have been exercising hard for a couple years.  I got stronger but didn't loose the weight.  Two things changed.

1: I read intuitive eating and really started to notice how much I ate without tasting, being distracted, and how much those food choices made me feel like crap.  I changed my eating habits.

2: I started attending Group Workout Classes.  Working out with other people is FUN for me.  And extra challenging.  Attending Boot Camps do make a huge difference.

Did I Say That?

Interesting thought: people who tell everyone about a set goal are less likely to accomplish it.  I want to try keeping my goals to myself for a bit.

Except the fact that I want to do one pull up, apparently.  I am a big blabber mouth about that.  And I think there really is some truth to not telling your goals.  Several women have given me so much positive feedback on this goal I could pat myself on the back and be good.

Except I didn't do that one pull-up.

Staying strong.  I will do that pull-up.

My path to making it happen:  After/before workouts 8 assisted pull-ups.
At home, reverse slow pull-ups every so often as I pass the bathroom.

Food

I decided food is my love language.  If someone has something to celebrate or needs consoling I want to get them homemade real tasty food.  Food solves so much in life, in good quality, not quantity.

And that is the secret, to enjoy quality.  Not quantity.  Savor, taste, discern, talk, reach out.

Food.  And chocolate.

Oh, chocolate.  I decided that there is no good or bad chocolate.  Dark does not trump light, even in this case.  I tried so hard to develop my chocolate senses and become someone who savors dark.  But every good quality chocolate has its place in my life according to moods.

Except waxy chocolate.  Waxy chocolate is a waste.  A genuine waste.  The only good thing about cocoa beans going up in price is perhaps we will stop wasting them on waxy chocolate.

Numbers

I started working out at o.zone fitness, joining a six week bootcamp.  I don't have my entry number fitness assessment on me, but my three week check up on numbers is this Wednesday. 

I keep telling myself I don't care about the numbers.

My goals are : do one unassisted pull up.  Turkish get up with the bigger kettleball. 

Yep.

I am so close to being able to do one pull up. I can feel it. 

Also, I find the more fit I become, the less worrisome the numbers should be because I move better.  I move easier, stronger, powerfuller.

But gosh, I am kind of anticipating the number crunching.  Because I am positive there will be really awesome results.  Because I feel so great.

I need to remember that even if the numbers suck they do not change how much stronger I have felt these last few weeks.  This is a program that works for me.

Second thought:  Today some new bootcampers showed up.  Two of the chicks were skinny and looked hot.  I kicked their butts.  Skinny is not my goal.  Cheetah is my goal.  The athleticism of a large cat, even when walking.  You know that cat is pure strength and grace.  I want to be a cheetah.

Spartan

So I have a semi-secret.  I am running the Spartan this summer. So some thoughts. 

I started running about three years ago when I signed up to run a half marathon with my sisters.  I told everyone about my running and training.  I was motivated.  Because I couldn't back out from doing that race when I had spent a whooping fifty bucks on it. 

Then last summer I ran all summer.  I worked out.  And friends and neighbors commented and asked, what are you training for.  Surprise surprise when I said nothing. Just enjoying the feeling of running and working out.

It kind of bugs me that everyone wants to tell me what they are training for. 

Can't we just work out to be in shape.  To feel new strength in our legs and arms and torso.  To relish the wind in our faces?  To feel alive? 

But signing up for this Spartan has most definitely reminded me of motivation. I may be tired after my gym workouts, but I am still going to hang out for five minutes and work on my pull ups.  Because I have a Spartan to conquer.  I will do every burpee assigned with perfect form.  Because if I can't have perfect form on a clean gym floor, how will I manage in the mud. 

I don't want to tell people I signed to run the Spartan because that is NOT the impressive part.  The impressive part is if I can tell people I ran the Spartan and PASSED the obstacles.  That I had the upper body strength to do it ALL.

That is what it is, signing up for stuff is easy.  Training and conquering the stuff, that is where the sweat fills up the pool.

Goals

I have been thinking and reading and falling down the youtube channel black holes about goals.  Motivation. 

I ran into Coach Stevo's blog.  He has a lot to say about goals.

A lot of people tell him they "want to run a marathon."

He answers "You want to be the type of person who runs marathons."

What type of person runs marathons?

Collette types.  Rick types.  Megan types.  My whole stinkin family excepts me types. 

Rick ran a marathon, and that afternoon was playing in the back yard with Micah.  I remember him playing with the kids and that impressed me more than him running for two or three hours that morning.  Wasn't he supposed to be getting a massage and lying in bed and eating?  He had just run a freaking marathon.  And he is playing, actively playing, with the kids.

I want to be the type of person that does jump up and run around and mess around with my kids. 

I don't want my training to make it so I don't enjoy and live the other 23 hours of the day.  Fitness should allow me to move more, lift more, and be more.  So I can play.  And play hard.

So nothing is too hard.  Too tiring. 

What do I really want? 

Nat and I signed up to run the Spartan this June.  And I am starting to comprehend how much my upper body can be improved.  So I can actually pass a few of the obstacles.  Upper body strength is mandatory. 

Who do I really want to be?

I find myself thinking about the gospel and fitness.  Both have to be worked for everyday.  To be stronger, physically and spiritually.

I haven't been feeding my spirit solid lately. The person I want to be receives revelation and acts on promptings.  For people outside of family.  The person I want to be does her visiting teaching because she loves visiting her people. 

I have felt an increase of patience with my boys lately.  Increase of love. 

What kind of Mom am I?  Want to be?

I think my love language is food.  If someone is hurt or needs celebrating, I want to make them food.

Balanced.   I want balance.  If there is such a thing.  Maybe not balance, but mindful accomplishment.

And time.  I want to take more time with my boys.