Is ninety-nine failing?

The real truth is that the perfectionist that lives within me is really cruel sometimes. There are times when her relentless pursuit of achievement helps me push beyond my limits. But most of the time her demands are so intense and the burden of her expectations so heavy that I am crushed by them. For all the evidence of hard work that people can see, it’s the inner battles that are much harder fought. In fact, those battles rage endlessly and many times I fight the same ones over and over again – overcoming the demons once doesn’t put them to rest for good.

For instance, as I sit here nearly paralyzed by the anxious question of “what if I don’t make it to 100 pounds by September 26”, I can hear her in my head telling me that 99 pounds would be a failure. Really? Is that really what I’m going with? Ninety nine pounds… failing? I would never let anyone say something so demeaning and cruel to anyone that I love. Yet I realize just how often those horrible internal tapes play and I don’t even HEAR them.

I wasn’t going to write about this because I didn’t really want anyone to know just how hard I still fight. The perfectionist in me wants it to look easy and effortless. But I got to thinking about how many other people, especially women (I understand them a little bit better, a very little bit), have those same kind of tapes playing in the background. How often do we look in the mirror and say something hateful to the reflection? I can’t even count the number of times I have started a conversation about my body with, “I wish I wasn’t…”
So this week I’m trying something new. I made a commitment to not say anything negative about myself for the entire week. Why not an entire lifetime, you ask? I need the success. A week I think I can do. Maybe I can string a lifetime together one week at a time.

I started this weight loss journey because I woke up one morning and I was done: done being tired, done being sad, done being lonely, done being afraid. I was just done. And I knew that I would stay the same, my life would stay the same, unless I made a change. Perhaps it's elementary, but if I wanted to be different, I had to be different. The same old worn-out, tried-and-true behaviors and thought patterns weren’t go to get me a different result. And now I’m done hating myself. Really. It’s been a lifetime. It doesn’t work for me. It doesn’t serve me. I’m moving on.

It will be challenge for a while to stay true to that – my patterns are deeply ingrained and frankly, horribly reinforced by a culture that’s constantly telling me that I’m not beautiful unless… - but I want my daughter to wake up in the morning and the first conversation she has with that growing girl in the mirror – someday too soon a growing woman- to a be a loving one. And she’s taking her lead from me.

If you have to doubt something, doubt your limits.

At about 75 pounds lost, I started thinking that maybe… just maybe… I could actually make it to my 100+ pound weight loss goal. I mean, let’s face it, starting out looking down a long road with more than 100 pounds to lose, it seemed like the road would never end, like the goal wasn’t really attainable. But when I hit 75 pounds I thought, “Huh. Maybe…” At 75 pounds, I was more than half way to my goal. I could look back and see the road I had traveled was longer than the road ahead.

Once I let myself start thinking that I might actually make it to my goal, I started to think about how to mark the occasion, how to celebrate the moment and at the same time celebrate the potential for everyone to achieve the things they once thought unachievable. At the same time, I wanted the moment to include all the people that I love and the many, many people who have supported, encouraged, loved and motivated me without comprise. I COULDN’T have done it alone. Really, I couldn’t. There have been long, horrible, painful plateaus when nothing seemed like it was changing even though I was doing all the “right” things. If it weren’t for the vigilant and steadfast faith of friends and family, I might have quit. I’m a fighter. I don’t give in. I fall and get up. Fall and get up. Fall and get up. But… we all get tired. And our spirits get worn out in the fight and the struggle to be our best selves. More than once the love and steady hand of a beloved has kept me going. How could I possibly celebrate any achievement without including them?

I also wanted my milestone to be tangibly meaningful to someone else - even if it was only one someone else. I wanted to make the hard fought road to have meaning beyond me. But what could I give? All I have is my story and my love of spinning. Spinning has made my legs wobbly more than once, but no matter how tired I am, I leave the studio feeling powerful. I stay on that bike for 45 (ok, let’s be honest, some of those spins are more like 60) minutes. Sometimes it’s a fight – can’t count how many times I’ve battled the demon “I can’t”. Sometimes it’s pure bliss and absolute euphoria. But either way (and lots of in-between), I stayed. I did it. And I’m always better for it.

I love the community at the spin studios. Fiercely. And I want everyone to know just how amazing they are; all the time, everyday, living their lives as best they can. And so, the birth of the 100-minute spin idea. It seems like a great way to share my milestone. We all get to sweat and push our bodies; stretching our limits… the 100-minute spin can express something that has been as much a spiritual and emotional journey as it has been physical. Every pound that I have lost has unearthed personal demons that I buried in the weight. Those battles are sometimes even tougher, but unavoidable and absolutely necessary for growth. In losing 100 pounds, I’m gaining. Gaining a new sense of confidence and capacity. Gaining a new outlook on possibility and purpose. Recapturing a sense of joy and wonder at the magnificent human body – in all shapes and forms.

What is that chasing me??!!

I feel like I have to compulsively keep moving, pushing my body harder... more workouts... longer workouts... it feels like I'm running from something that I desperately don't want to catch up with me.

How do you repay a debt that can't be repaid?

(Day 28 came and went, but I haven't been able to finish writing this post... there is so much to say and so few words that can really say it...)

This is it. Day 28... Wow. Really? Already?

I've been thinking this last week about how to say "thank you" and how to repay the debt that I owe to my teachers, to Ellen, to my friends and family who never wavered in their support for me... How do you repay a debt that can't be repaid? The depth of gratitude I feel humbles me in a way that I have a hard time articulating. My life is fundamentally different than it was 28 days ago... I am different. I began these 28 days with the word "fearless" tattooed on my heart. And I never could have pushed myself to explore what that means in my life without the constant vigilance of the beloveds in my life. My friends and teachers (who are all really one and the same) created a wide open space for me to push what I thought where the boundaries of who I am, to take leaps of faith and fall off cliffs, to fall apart and pull myself together again, to be completely broken... and then remade. How do I say thank you for that?

To my teachers at the studios:
How can I thank Natalie for being an exquisite model of grace and beauty? How can I thank Hilary for the gentle, warm encouragement that touches my heart at the very moments when I am most vulnerable? How do I thank Susie for the gift of her spirit and generosity of heart? How do I thank John for modeling commitment and perseverance? How do I thank Jason for being the kind of man who brings the best out in me? How can I thank Elizabeth for her quiet and unassuming strength that sets the bar so very, very high? How do I thank Claudine for teaching me that workouts can be fun as well as kickass? And Ellen... how do I thank Ellen? I am at a complete loss for words...

The opportunity that Ellen gave me is the kind that people dream of being offered... the opportunity to remake themselves. We can all do it - truthfully we could all do it at any time - but Ellen saw me, right where I was, as I was... struggling, fighting for something more from myself - and made a safe space for me to do that work. She committed her time and invested her heart in the work of me. What words are there to possibly express my gratitude?

And everyday my beloved friends and family were (and are) my greatest cheerleaders and believers. I cannot even describe the feeling of waking each day knowing in every cell of my body that I am absolutely loved with a ferocity that could light the world. It is humbling to be loved that way - by the mother who gave me life, the daughter who makes my life worthwhile, and the friends who make the days of my life full to overflowing.

So, how do I repay a debt that cannot be repaid? I'll have to pay it forward. I'll have to bring my whole self and full heart to everything that I do and share what I have with anyone who needs it. Some days I will fall short. And I'll miss the mark. And when I do, I'll look back on these 28 days and be inspired to keep working... pushing... growing. My friends, family and teachers will be there.

Wahoo!

I’m still floating from my weigh-in last night: I've lost 75 pounds!! (11 of which I have lost in the last three weeks working through this twenty eight day challenge.) I have been working towards that number for so long – stuck it out through a 9 month plateau where I couldn’t lose an ounce – and there it is. 75 humongous pounds. That’s the weight of an entire human being: 1 ½ of my daughter. That’s 15 bags of sugar. That’s 9 gallons of water. It’s a 75 pound bag of personal demons, sadness, disappointment, and self-hatred. Gone. I won’t carry that anymore. Any of it.

I left my private with boot camp session with Ellen yesterday completely spent – totally exhausted. But not broken, not even close. I can’t really even describe the joy that accompanies this particular exhaustion. As tired as I am I still feel like I can take on the world. What is there that I can’t do? All those platitudes that people throw around that I tend to dismiss because I hear them so often suddenly have very deep meaning to me: “What would you attempt if you knew you could not fail?” “Believe in yourself without compromise”. “Your only limits are self-imposed”. It’s true. All of it.

And what’s failure anyway? Even if I hadn’t lost a pound in the last three weeks with Ellen, it wouldn’t have been failure. I have pushed my body, my heart, my spirit right to the edge – some days we even went right over that edge – and I didn’t give up. It didn’t even occur to me. When I was sad, I sat with it. I didn’t eat to make it better. When I was tired, I pushed through it. I didn’t sit back and wait to feel inspired – I went to the studio and inspired myself, letting my beloved teachers help spark the blaze. I surrounded myself with people who believe in me without comprise so that when I started to waiver, their support helped set me back on track.

So, I’m starting my last 7 days of my 28 day challenge. I can’t believe that I’m almost at the end of something that won’t really ever end.

Feelin' good and lookin' good

Yesterday was my third private ass-kicking session with the goddess I call Ellen. We've been laughing a lot lately - sometimes I look like a elephant in tap shoes trying to move gracefully through the series of booty shapin' exercises she gives me. Let's take my jumping jacks for instance. Um... er... seriously. I wouldn't want a video of that posted on Youtube. That's all I'm sayin'. But they are improved since week one, by a lot, so I'm confident that with my continued hard work and perseverance, they'll be graceful, strong, and awesome soon.

I can't believe I am 2 weeks into this 28 days already! It's going sooooo fast. Too fast. I don't even really have time to digest all that I am doing or assimilate all the changes in my body. Friends say they can see the difference - I can't - but I feel, well, crazy awesome! I need a t-shirt that says "I AM FIERCE" because that's how I feel. And it infects all the other aspects of my life, too. What happens in the gym definitely does not stay in the gym. I feel more confident to take on new challenges in my personal life, i.e. dating (yuck!), and at work I'm a little bit more bold.

I know that I'm still too stuck on the scale - I think Ellen may physically escort me from the building if I don't get past that soon - so there's work for me there; To let go of the scale, of the results (or not) that show up there. What I'm doing for myself with this challenge is so much more than that. And it will come. Ellen keeps telling me that it will happen after the 28 days is over. So I have to keep bringing myself back and reframing my assessment of "success". I feel successful. Right now. Not in 5 pounds. Not in 50 pounds. Right now. I feel like I have accomplished something so huge that there really aren't words. But here are four: I haven't given up.

Body blues

My stomach has hurt for the last 2 days and I'm headed in to see my primary care doc this afternoon. My right knee has been tight and painful for the past few days, too. After having had my left ACL reconstructed, I don't want to play around with my knees. It would just about kill me if I had to stop working out right now. I'm trying to not freak out - I'm planning on her telling me that a little ice and some ibuprofen will fix everything.

Tough Days Don't Last Forever

Rereading some of my posts makes me cringe. I can be really hard on myself and as one friend who loves me a lot pointed out, "You wouldn't let me talk about myself that way." Then she asked if I was a closet perfectionist. :-) The only one I expect perfection from is me. Which presents a fairly big problem as I am most certainly not perfect and will never be. In fact, when I really think about it, perfection doesn't really seem all that fun or interesting.

And I caught myself in the mirror this morning and thought, "Hey, cutie." That's new. And fun. And about damn time. I was mulling over the heartache from yesterday and trying to digest all the loving and supportive advice from my friends and realized that I am surrounded by people who want me in their lives. Whether I lose weight or not, whether I work-out or not, whether I fit into those smaller clothes or not. They hold a place for me to figure what I want for myself, not asking me to be something other than just what and who I am. I'm held up everyday by people who offer me glimpses into how they see me... and frankly, she's pretty amazing.

So, I think it's about time for me to sift through some of those old tapes rattling around in my head about who I am. Many of them that are complete garbage. These 28 days are so much more than about changing my body - and I want all that comes with work. I'm asking for this change and I'm up to the challenge of letting go.

Ellen said to me in our last session, as I'm sitting the wall and my quads are burning "This isn't happening to you, Zephyr. You are making this happen. You are asking for this. " She's right. I want this. I'm in charge. My body is my ally and we're working together, a team. That's a pretty powerful feeling. I'm not a victim of the burn in my muscle when I push to the limits - I asked for that, I made that happen. As for the tapes that play like background music in my head, well, I'm in charge of those, too. I'm gonna turn up the volume so I can hear them clearly and burn the ones that don't serve me. There will be days like yesterday when that's hard to do, but luckily, tough days don't last forever.

Some Days Are Just Going to Be Hard

And this one hurt. It started it out fine. I woke up excited for spin (as always) and class was great (as always). I felt great - about the way my body and I worked together during spin, the way I looked in my smaller size clothes, the way I have commited and stuck with my new eating plan - but it didn't last all day. Ugh.

I realized that I have used my weight as a way to protect myself from hurting. From being hurt. From the sting of lonliness and rejection. And as I have shed the pounds and changed the shape of my body, the sting of feeling unwanted is so much more intense. I can't hide behind my weight anymore.

I refuse to run to food anymore. I can't use the chocolate, the muffins, the extra calories to cover up that pain anymore. I just have to sit with it. So here I am... sitting with it. And it hurts. But I'll survive it and I want to be stronger for having sat through it. I'll get to the otherside. And I'll be different for having made different choices.

Bring it on!

3:30 pm today. That's when I have my next private ass-kicking session. My legs are still not 100% recovered from last week and then John pushed me hard last night and this morning at Spin. My quads feel... it's hard to describe... but it's almost like they feel faint. Does that make sense? It's not exactly a burn, not an ache... more like a weakness, a faintness. They don't feel strong underneath me yet - not solid. Maybe I'm missing something nutritionally here. Jason said this morning that I should have a sports drink - that he thought all the sugar was gone out of my legs. I meant to get one and forgot. What the heck does it mean for all the sugars to be gone out of your legs? I'm gonna have to google that... geez, there is so much for me to learn about my body, exercise, nutrition, health - will I ever know how to just be healthy and not have to be so freakin' purposeful about it all the time? Does everyone have to work this hard?!

That verges on whining, I know. Pull it together, Zephyr.

And why am I forever HUNGRY? The last two days I've been hungry all the time. Eat. I'm hungry. Eat. I'm hungry. Eat. I'm hungry. And I'm high protein all the time. Chicken and veggies. Tofu and veggies. Sweet potato, tofu, spinach and cucumbers for lunch yesterday. No processed sweets (in fact, no sweets at all), no carbs other than the veggies and fruit. Lots of nuts. And glorious cheese... with apples. YUM! Protein smoothie every morning. But I always hungry. What's up with that? What am I missing here? It's lame. I can be satisfied but it's fleeting. Before I know it, I want to eat again. I gotta get this thing figured out - it's crazy-making.

How do I eat for this class this afternoon? What do I need to compensate for the fact that my legs are all goofy? Should I have carbs? Massive proteins? Ugh. I feel stupid. Isn't this crap that I should already know?

I don't want to feel my f@$%in' feelings!

So, here's something fun that I didn't think about before I started this 28 days. Or maybe I thought about it and chose to ignore it. Either way, here's the thing: when you are an emotional eater - for me it's chocolate and muffins, who knows why - you eat when you feel things that make you uncomfortable. Frankly, I would eat those things when I didn't want to think about things that make me uncomfortable either. Well, when you take away those food crutches and no longer have the distraction of food to keep your mind and heart busy with processing the extra calories, you have to feel stuff. LOTS of stuff. LOTS of uncomfortable stuff. It's like taking the all the extra crap out of the room of mirrors and all you're left with is you and the mirror. Ouch.

I've been trying to use exercise as a substitute food - the pain in my body keeping me distracted from having to think or feel things - but here's the other nasty little secret: your body stops hurting. That physical distraction wains and I'm left with... well, myself and the mirror. Though I could be talking about an actual mirror, I'm really talking about the metaphorical mirror. The "me" that I can't escape anymore. She and I have to deal with each other. Honestly. And now. No more "later". No more hiding behind the distraction of food and relationships and the stuff that I can always find to keep me busy.

I've passed on the chocolate and the muffin. "Stay stonger, sister" I keep telling myself. I have survived so damn much, I refuse to give in the fear of seeing myself clearly, honestly... No amount of chocolate will ever make me feel the way learning to love who I am will...

Ahhh... and then she rested.

The past two days of rest have been good for me. I'm still challenged to get in and out of chairs without pain, but at least I'm not falling into chairs anymore. And I'm loving the feeling in my legs... they are getting so strong. I can feel the muscles work and flex as I take steps, go up stairs, move my body... that feels incredible even though tinged with pain.

Actually feeling my muscles work is amazing, but I can see them working, too!! I caught myself in the mirror at spin Friday night and could actually see my quads working! I guess that means one of two things has happened: I've finally lost enough fat off my legs that you can start to see the muscle or my muscles have grown enough that they are pushing through the fat. Or could it be that both things have happened? Be still my heart.

Eating enough is still hard... I don't actually know what "enough" is... Ellen said that if I'm still hungry I should eat more. But I'm not always hungry when I think I should be. And when I'm hungry, it hasn't been taking much food to stop the hunger. I'm eating a lot more protein and a cracker/cookie/bread/noodle hasn't touched my lips since last Wednesday. And I haven't had any chocolate or processed sweets, either. That's a first ever. Me not eating chocolate is a clear indication that something major has shifted. Every time I think about eating something that I think I want, like chocolate, muffins, and ice cream, I remember how much pain I was in last week and how long it has taken to recover. I just think "it's not worth it". What I want more than a piece of chocolate are legs that won't quit!

I'm excited to get back to the studio for more spin tomorrow... still worried that I won't be 100% ready for Wednesday with Ellen, but I'll bring my whole heart to it no matter what.

The Day After (and the day after that)

I woke up yesterday unable to walk without a funny gimp. I knew it would only get worse, which it has, but I managed to make it to spin in the morning and a bootcamp class with Susie in the evening. I cheated a lot but I felt triumphant that I was even there. And I knew that I needed to move the muscles that hurt in an effort to push that lactic acid out of them.

I hurt enough that I didn't think too much about whether I had done a enough the day before - I couldn't have given any more than I did - that should be enough. And when I saw Ellen at the studio she told me that I did great, "really amazing" she said, and then admitted that our workout together had been a little extra "spicy". I felt better knowing that she wasn't disappointed.

Today I can't get in and out of chairs without agony. And forget stairs! I went to spin this morning, thinking that I would just ride recovery and let my muscles warm up. Of course, it turned out to be less recovery and more work, but my legs felt better being warm... I would have stayed on the bike all day if I could. It seems like the only time my legs don't hurt is when I'm riding. I'll go back for more this evening...

Eating has been odd the last couple of days. I know I should be eating more, but I'm less hungry. Ellen wants me to eat high-protein/low-carb, which has been surprisingly easy for me so far (I know this will get more challenging). I'm having a protein shake in the morning and then some chicken and veggies for lunch, with a repeat for dinner. Throw in some fruit and nuts for snacks and presto, my daily meals. It's a bit of a challenge to transition from my Weight Watchers habit of counting and weighing everything. I can eat all whole foods, but nothing that comes in a box or a wrapper. It feels good and it allows me to eat the foods that I really love, that fill me up with energy and joy.

I haven't lost any weight. In fact, I'm 3 pounds heavier than I was Tuesday before I started with Ellen!! But I'm trying to convince myself that it's muscle and/or lactic acid retention and/or water retention... And I really should stop weighing myself. That's not the only gauge for my success during these 28 days.

My legs are wrecked, my arms are so sore that it hurts to reach for the phone but I feel good. And I'm not going to quit. Ever.

Day One of Twenty Eight

I went to my first private class with Ellen with butterflies in my stomach. I felt sick just imagining what lay ahead. I know she wants for me only all that I want and dream of for myself. Why am I so afraid? And what on earth am I so afraid of...?

It was hard. It was so, so hard. The hardest part was that horrible, creeping feeling that I was failing... failing Ellen, failing myself... just failing. Why aren't I stronger? I wanted to be better... more... stronger... tougher than I was. Why can't I just will my brain to turn off the signals that say it hurts?

She makes me watch myself in the mirror. That makes me sick. I know it shouldn't, but it does. I know I shouldn't admit that, but I am. I wish I felt inspired by the sweating, straining, heavy-breathing girl in the mirror, but I'm not. I'm tired of her. And she's tired of her, too.

After it was over, we sat in front of each other. "Choose your choice, Zephyr. You don't have to be here. Know what you want and focus on that, stay with it." Then I started to cry. "I don't care if you cry, Zephyr. That's ok. Just don't ever give up. I want to see your heart. You can change the world. I want you to have the stamina and endurance to be able to do that. You know, Zephyr, you come to spin with such joy. But I see trapped sadness in you. I want you to work through that." Ugh. How is it possible that she can see that? I'm so proficient at covering... concealing... how could someone ever know that about me without me letting them in? And I let so few into that place...

She told me it would be hard. She said I would go through things... it was going to be emotional. She wasn't wrong.

So, I'm still breathing. And I'm still standing and walking (though barely... seriously I can barely walk without my legs buckling underneath me). And I'm going to be ok. This will all be ok. And I'll show up for next week's private class with my heart in my hands ready to give up, give in and give over to it all over again.