Yesterday proved to be a monumental day in that I had a major breakthrough in my mental game.
Now I have to try to convey it, so let’s see what I can conjure for ya.
I was one of those kids that grew up with a lot of health issues. You’d never know it to look at me, but they were there. So, I was sick a lot throughout my childhood, till 12 years or or so, which is a whole complicated story, but I think I’m only now starting to realize how much I always believed I was different, lesser, less able than others who didn’t have health issues. (None of which plague me today.)
I just never became active, and I always, always had excuses. I’ve always had a weight problem, since I was 9. I’ve never liked to exercise. Never thought I was good at it.
Yesterday, I got up, weighed myself (on my period, that was my first mistake) and saw I’d still not lost any weight. Sat down on the couch. “It’s time to start getting drastic,” I thought. “I’ll bike.”
I felt like shit. I was tired, not well hydrated, bitchy. But I did it. And 6 blocks in I stopped, thought, “Wow, am I bagged. This’ll take forever. I can still throw the bike on the bus…” But I did it. I pushed out the next 90 blocks (12k/8m). And got there, what, six minutes earlier than two weeks ago? (45 minutes.)
I was thrilled. As work wound down, I was feeling pretty ill, yet thought it’d be more of a hassle to go get bus fare and bus the bike than it would to ride the bike home. I was halfway up the hard part of the ride home when I thought I was nuts, but still pushed. I got home 10 minutes earlier than I did 2 weeks ago, three minutes off my best time ever. (40 minutes.) It’s fucking April, man! I’m not even in “summer” shape yet… though I’m in the best shape I’ve probably ever been in. (Really.) Love having a tripometer on the bike!
I have never fought through adversity with sports. Ever. The last month or so I’ve had this realization that I need intensity in my workouts, and I need to have an intense regimen. No longer will casual biking suffice as “exercise”. Now it’s full-out, leave-it-out there every time. It has to be. But dialing that up wasn’t working for me, until last weekend.
Tonight I had a screaming headache yet still turned in a 90-minute workout with my new gym buddy. Tomorrow, it’s the stairs followed by aggressive free weights in the morning. Friday, I hope (okay “hope” isn’t the right word… “plan to because my ass needs it” maybe) to ride my bike again, if weather permits.
I was in the gym, doing my freewights, and I stared at my reflection and thought, “Okay, now I’m seeing it…” ‘Cos I haven’t done the weights-in-the-full-mirror thing since December, but now I see that my already-lost 25, 30 pounds is a significant change in my body. Like, significant. It’s been gradual, so I haven’t really noticed until tonight, really. Next paycheque, I pick up a couple items of clothing to fit my new body, then I’ll really notice things. And get noticed as being thinner, I suspect.
Now I’m thinking 50 more pounds by September won’t be so hard. If I can do this this week, then I have no excuse not to do it consistently, then, do I?
I want to be that girl that kicks ass and takes names. I want to leave men in my wake in sports. God knows I’m getting there, and faster, better, cooler than I’d hoped. Very, very rewarding, this seeing-results-thing. Very.
Actualizing who you always thought you were, putting that person out there on display for the world, making that happen, is really fucking empowering, and I’m only now starting to really experience it. Ooh, this could be fun.
And I’m totally hitting another 10 pounds loss this month. Totally. Did I mention I feel awesome? So fucking tired, but I got two more weekdays of ass-kicking and name-taking before the blessed sloth of the weekend appears. Ahhh, earned sloth, what a beauteous thing. Still, I feel strong, leaner, and crazy fucking toning starting to happen all over. Very little jiggles these days. Bounces, yes; jiggles, no. This is good.