Comparison-to myself

I think we all struggle with comparing ourselves to others. It's natural, something in our DNA, to compete, probably a survival thing. But it sucks. It's not fair, and it's not productive outside a survival or competition (like for a sport or game show type thing) context. It saps our enjoyment of who we are and where we are, and who needs that? 

I used to compare myself appearance-wise to my little sister. I won't get into all the reasons that was dumb, but thankfully I've (mostly) slayed that dragon. I still compare myself to others and find myself wanting sometimes, but right now, the hurdle I'm finding in my way is comparing my current body to my own, at this point post Lexi, meaning when Lexi was 17, 18, 19, 20 months old. It's just not fair, because obviously everything is different now than it was then.

-I had one child, not two, and she was the easiest baby ever. She slept till ten am regularly and if she did wake before I was ready for her, she played happily in her crib until I came. Declan hates being in his crib, and on average wakes at 7:30. This is a HUGE difference, because it means that now, if I want to get my workout done before the kids are up I'll have to be up and moving by 545. I'm working toward that goal, but right now, instead of: get up at 5:45-eat/Jesus time-work out, my morning routine looks like: wake at 6:30, have Scott hold me till my anxiety lets me breathe or have calm rational thoughts (this varies, and some mornings isn't an issue), coffee/eat/Jesus time, Declan is up, nurse him, give him breakfast, Lexi is up, wrangle her to the table, do school while she eats, convince them both to go upstairs and play, do my workout with one ear inclined to make sure everything is ok upstairs and probably a few trips upstairs to referee. By the time I'm done it's somewhere around 11, and I'm physically and emotionally spent for the day already, because of the next HUGE difference between 19 month old Lexi's mama and 4 year old Lexi and 19 month old Declan's mama. 

-I did not have PPDA when Lexi was 19 mos. I didn't have it at all. I had a miscarriage on the day lexi was 18 mos old and it broke my heart, but I was in better mental health even after that than I am today. Even on good days (I think I'm on day 6 or 7 in a row now) I have to battle constantly to keep the triggers at arms length because I know I'm one thought away from paralyzing fear. My life is wonderful, I'm so happy with it, but I'm also always petrified of everything falling apart. 

My fitness is, along with protecting sleep and eating nutritive foods, my medicine. I need it, and I really do want to be able to get up early enough to get my main workout done before the kids are up, so we can have more time to play and less awkward safety fears for me. I'm making progress, but man! 

-I also finished weaning Lexi the day she turned 19 mos. Declan will be 20 mos in a week and is still nursing 3x a day. I'm fine with that, but I know it's also a factor in my metabolism.

-another factor is that our bodies and metabolisms change. Mine has always been challenging, and now I'm three years older, I've got chemical stuff going on with the ppda, and PCOS. It's not an excuse to give up or slack off, it's a reason to fight. And that's what I'm doing every single day. I'm fighting. 

You know what else? I'm not actually that far off from where I was then, I'm just hard on myself. I'm just about one size behind where I was then. I got my size four Capri pants when lexi was 20 mos and one week old-5 weeks after she weaned. So, if I'm still nursing 3x a day, that could be the factor. Plus, like I said, life is just different.

I've gotta be ok with that. I've gotta hike this part of the mountain and conquer it. Just because I can't get my size four skinny jeans over my hips today doesn't mean in two months I won't be able to button and zip them. I am mighty and an overcomer. And so are you. 

Ten.

Note: I was told about 7 years ago to stop marking this anniversary and "move on" by a couple people I consider close friends, and I was told the same only a couple months after our second loss by a family member. I realize that not everyone sees pregnancy loss as a big deal, or understands deep mourning for a child one has never met.  If you are one of those folks, this post isn't for you. I don't say that with hostility, I just don't want to waste your time. 

To my first baby: 

It was ten years ago this Sunday (October 9) that I said goodbye to you. Not just to you, but to the dreams I had of who you could be.  That was the day you were born, impossibly early, after a short labor that wrenched my heart as much as my body. I held you in my hand, knowing I'd never hold you in my arms.   I never got to know you, even whether you're a boy or girl, but despite the shortness of our time together- 

Sweet Little Baby, you changed me forever. Until your sister came along, nothing in my life had such an impact. Everything that followed your birth,  (because it was a birth-I labored 97 hours with your sister and brother, and your birth counts too.) whether it seemed good or bad at the time, happened because, for a brief time, you lived in me and I will never be the same. 

Without your birth I would never have instant messaged the author I discovered when I was pregnant with you and recovering from your loss, we never would have become friends, leading me to all sorts of new online pursuits to escape from the pain I couldn't handle. Without you, the friendship wouldn't have led to a job, to many new friendships-many of the people reading this wouldn't be, because podcasting wouldn't have become what it was to me. 

I wouldn't have almost lost your daddy to the mistakes that stemmed from unresolved grief-but you know what? Even that was a gift, because losing you, and all the ways it tore us apart was the catalyst for the ground up rebuilding of our marriage and I wouldn't trade that for anything. Little Baby, it hurt so bad, but it's created a new marriage- and better, more mature and united, understanding, forgiving, and spiritually united parents for your brother and sister. 

Losing you, and the way it broke us apart for awhile ended up preparing your daddy for when we lost September baby too. He knew what to do, and how to love me better, because he learned from you. 

Because of you, my first baby, I had hope. I knew my body could conceive, and so had something to give me courage while we waited. 

Because of you, I am more thankful. For your sister, from the moment I knew she was growing, for your daddy, who is servant leadership personified, for your brother, whose unpredictability is his charm. I don't take a single moment for granted, because I know the sadness of dreams dashed.

Because of you, I am more patient. I waited a long time for your sister, but more than that, I have a greater capacity for patience *with* her and Declan. I never got to love you like I wanted, and knowing that loss and all the years I waited after, keeps in perspective the gift of motherhood. 

Because of you I celebrate every moment of magic in motherhood, because it feels like such a gift, I can't take it for granted the way I may have if it had come easily. I let Lexi climb in bed and hold her a little while in the night when she wakes, partly because I'll never have that with you. I fought with all I had for a nursing relationship with Declan, and I'm letting him keep nursing even now, because it's a powerful and tender thing, and I'll only get to experience that intimacy for a short time, and I never did with you. 

The past ten years have been long and short and up and down, but I wouldn't trade them, or the short time I had with you. Lexi and Declan are my rainbow babies, and there can be no rainbow without the rain. I celebrate you, and the gift that you were, and are, and will always be. 

I miss you, though I never met you, but I know someday I will. 

Why I share, and some updates

Maybe you're a new friend of mine, or maybe an old friend who's just never clicked over here. Maybe you're rolling your eyes at my constant status updates about my fitness journey on FB. Regardless how you got here, welcome, and thank you!  

I share a lot about my fitness journey and my mental health challenges, and there are a few reasons why. Spoiler alert-none of them is because I'm bragging about how awesome I am! Hahahaha. Also not because I want anyone to feel sorry for me. Now we've covered the non-reasons, here are the actual reasons I share: 

-it's cathartic. I process things by talking about them. It helps me clarify my thoughts, and make sense of thing. It strengthens my resolve and solidifies my plans. 

-I want to have a reference point in the future. I blog so I can remember the journey, what worked, what didn't, and the timeline, in case I face the same challenges again. 

The biggest reason I share though, is because I want to encourage. I felt so alone for so long, like this (fitness, health, mental health) came easily to everyone else and I must be a failure and a loser. I've realized that's far from true, and so I'm on a mission to share-because maybe my journey, and my resolve to keep fighting for my goals will encourage someone else to also. We are in this together. 

So, all that said, here are some updates:

I had tried taking evening primrose oil after reading a lot about it helping with pms, anxiety, depression, and other PCOS symptoms. After about two weeks I stopped-three days ago- because though my period came only ten days late instead of 3-4 weeks, my anxiety and depression during those ten days and the following five days of my period were flat out unbearable. There's no way of knowing if the timing of my period or the mental health challenge spike was related to the EPO, it wasn't worth the risk that if I continued I'd get even worse off or even stay the same to see if maybe it regulated my period-something that should happen on its own as Declan weans. It was so miserable, y'all. 

***Side note, on 10/2 he will have nursed longer than Lexi did. I see little sign of him slowing down, though he doesn't need his before nap nurse, and maybe even the one after. We still do them, most days,because he doesn't turn me down, and the snuggles are so sweet. He  loves his morning milk though. Like with Lexi, I think that'll be the last to go, even after bedtime, because Scott puts him to bed anyway. ***

Due to the mental health challenges the past few weeks, I'm not where I want to be with my daily routine, particularly my level of exercise, so I'm revising my goals, without giving myself room to slack off.

I'm probably not going to be wearing my size 4's in another 6 weeks-considering somehow my 6's, that did fit before vacation, are muffin toppy again. That may be due to the hormonal cycle combined with the swelling from working out again after a couple weeks off, (which is why I really shouldn't take more than one week off, my body freaks out...), but regardless, I'm not 3/4 of a size away from those pants fitting. Revising this goal is hard, partly because I've had the date of 10/31 set in my head for so long, and partly because I don't really know what to expect from myself, what's reasonable. The last time I went from an 8 to a 4, it took me somewhere around 4-5 months, and I had a pregnancy and stopped nursing during that time. I had also started from a heavier place and maybe there was momentum? I don't really know. All I can really do is put my head down and grind hard, eat clean, and recover well. My meal planning is on track, sleep is getting better, and my workout intensity is good. I'm excited to start cycling 3x a week again, and even more excited to continue making my yoga practice a priority. Ultimately I'd like to be doing HIIT and cycle twice a week and yoga six times a week as my fitness routine, but for now, and until I reach some big goals, it's gotta be HIIT 4x, cycle 3x, yoga 6x. 

All that to say, I'm making a soft goal of thanksgiving for those jeans, and hopefully I'm just gonna enjoy the ride there. I'm just so ready to be done with the "weight loss" part of this journey and be able to focus more on performance and developing my yoga practice. Both those elements are definitely there now, but feeling good in clothes is a priority and a distraction. Having babies has changed my body, and I'm good with that-and let's be real, my pre-baby body was never as fit, healthy, and strong as this body I have now. However, I don't feel like it's wrong to want to drop some extra fluff-as long as I acknowledge and love the beauty that exists along the way. 

I have a tendency to be hyper aware of my belly and label myself "disgusting" because the flesh there is so...fleshy. I'm mostly ok with the rest of my body, though obviously I'm loving every muscle that pops more and every place that gets less smooshy. But my belly. Ugh. I'm working hard at patience and loving myself along the journey there. It's also the only place that extra bulk limits me during workouts-I can't bring knee to nose because my belly is in the way, range of motion is limited on other ab moves, how much further could I fold in standing forward fold? 

I am committed to positive self talk, not just for me, but for Lexi. Lately she's around when I'm working out (getting myself going in the morning is a challenge!) and I make sure to tell her that we work out because it makes us strong and mighty! I never mention wanting to be smaller or skinnier, only stronger. I want her to always love herself for exactly who she is and only strive to *be* better and healthier and stronger- I think my fitness journey stalled out for so long because I didn't get that. I was so focused on being "skinny" that I missed the beauty of strength and the things my body could do! I only really fell in love with my body and really embraced what it can do in September of 2011 when I started practicing yoga. Almost ten years of trying so hard to be thin came before that. It was great timing though, because 6 weeks later I got pregnant with Lexi, and I really fell in love with my body then! And I needed that foundation to begin the climb back, and to really discover the athlete inside me in 2013. I have struggled since then, off and on to re-focus myself, and the desire to be skinny pops up when I compare sometimes, but that's why my hashtag for this part of my journey is 

#ropesngunsnabs 

The Tide

I've finally realized that the best analogy for the fluidity of my mental/emotional state these days is the tide. It's cyclical overall (cuz it's hormonal, duh) and yet, a riptide (calm at the surface, treacherous below--caused by triggers, some predictable, some not ) is always possible, and tidal waves are a thing too. High tide is when I feel like I could drown (the past week or so) and am too tired but must keep fighting to stay afloat, and low tide is when I feel able to wiggle my toes, turn my face to the sun, and relax. And y'know what else is awesome about low tide? You see the treasures that high tide left behind. ☺️

Today I woke like I have for almost two weeks now, with an elephant on my chest and my stomach roiling. The difference is, that like yesterday, there were no fearful thoughts to match. The physical does still affect the emotional though. Yesterday was Wednesday and I didn't have to get up and moving immediately, so I lay in Scott's arms and chatted lightly until my body relaxed and I moved on with my day. It wasn't ideal, but my body is tired and has been through the wringer between PPDA, pms, and BodyShred lately so it's not surprising. Today, all the above is true, but I didn't have the time to lie in bed till I felt better, though I stole a few extra minutes. I'm moving more slowly through my morning routine than I'd like, repeating truths to myself to fend off any thoughts that might try to come- any riptide lurking below my calm waters. 

The kids are healthy. 

Lexi will learn to obey. 

You are doing a great job.

You will get better, healthier, physically and emotionally. 

You are worth the struggle.

You are worth loving. 

You feel this way because you are tired, but you are getting stronger and you will rest better for the work. 

It is low tide. The sun is rising. I'll feel it soon. I'm healing. One moment at a time He is renewing me. 

LMAL: Health

This chapter is totally in my wheelhouse-it almost feels like cheating to get to focus on it! Don't be too surprised if you see the next chapter of my experiment too, alongside this, since physical health is a huge focus of my life on the daily anyway. 

I've discovered that my physical well being and mental health are inextricably linked, that a workout is like a hit of Prozac-usually-and that tired turns into crazed with anxiety fairly easily. Add PMS/PMDD to the mix, keeping in mind that because of my PCOS, PMS can last *weeks*, and it's quite a handful to manage. So, yes, I must take care of my health, mental and physical, and the two are one. 

Personally, I find a ramp-up to a pace I can maintain serves me best and allows me to multiply my "spoons" (daily energy resources) over time. I build, slowly and carefully, (since overtired equals crazy and miserable) and push, while protecting recovery carefully, and when I get to the level of physical activity I want to be at, I can then increase intensity in specific areas, and the increased energy I get allows me to manage other areas of life better, like housework, getting the kids out to the park, etc. As my mental health improves, I hope to overcome some big obstacles, but for now I'm focusing on what's in front of me, right? 

My experiment: 

-workout is job 1 each day

-rest and recovery are equally important. 

-keep the day rolling as routine is built, rather than letting surprises derail the day. 

-be kind to myself with expectations. 

It's Thursday of the first week back from the beach, and I'm feeling and thinking a lot of things. Most of them good, a few a bit less so. 

First challenge: PMS induced crazy. My hormones are all in flux due to my body attempting to do what it should, and this has brought back the anxiety after my having a break from full on intense painful fear for most of the past two weeks or so, and I can feel the pressure building. Today I'll try to brainstorm some "at my fingertips" rescue methods. I'm also really tired from many many late nights the past two weeks, and that doesn't help. 

Another challenge: I'm slightly overwhelmed by all that we are on the cusp of, with starting a new school year, me starting BodyShred and really getting serious about dialing in my health and developing my yoga practice, and what that means for daily life and finding routine in a time when a strict schedule isn't always possible. 

The flip side of that sense of being overwhelmed, though, is BIG excitement. As daunting as it feels to start kindergarten, I'm so excited for the empowerment Lexi will find in being able to read. As tough as I know my workouts will be, and how tired I'll be at first, I know the rewards to my physical, emotional, and mental health will be beyond worth it if I'm committed and consistent. 

I'm excited because I'm starting this new season with a home that is clean and tidy, and a fair, managable plan to keep it that way without hours of work per day. I'm not super thrilled that we came home from the beach to discover we had had a mousey house sitter, but God works in mysterious ways, and now our house is deep cleaned, we are creating habits of sweeping and vacuuming more, and there are no signs of return visits. Thank ya Jesus. 

I am definitely more excited than overwhelmed by all that's beginning, and I know that if I'm able to breathe deep and live in each moment with intention, I will see myself blooming vibrantly. 

Walks are for kids, and finally setting a major goal date

Tuesday  I worked out four times. I did my JM, walked 3.4 mi, 37m yoga, and 40 min on the bike. While I was walking, I made a decision. The walks cannot, for now at least, have any agenda other than  giving the kids what they need-whether its Declan needing a nap, all of us heading to the park, or just some fresh air. There are two to three other times in the day right now when mama's workout has to come first, (though I'm hoping to get to the point when I'm getting all that done before they get up), and that time needs to be about them. It counts as exercise for me, obviously, but I can't set my agenda for it, because the kids will need something different from day to day. 

My fitness will improve, and with it my pace and therefore distance, but that has to just be gravy. This should also help me reduce overtraining, which is a struggle for me, and with the delicate balance my mental health is in right now, I can't afford it. 

I also finally put a date on my biggest  external fitness goal. I want my abs by my 35th birthday. That's just under 11 months, and I don't know if it's gonna happen-because I've never actually had abs... But I'm gonna try my very best while still living my life. I'm gonna have dessert sometimes, I'm gonna have sushi and fried chicken on occasion. I'm gonna eat clean and real food most of the time and train like no tomorrow. I'll never be one of those women who can eat whatever I want and not work out, but I am the woman who will reap rewards of hard work and not deprive myself of living life. 

This is a good thing to remind myself of as we head to the beach next week, because I fully intend to EAT and have no regrets-and also to go for lots of ways and do lots of yoga. Balance, Yo.