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NEW DAY 122: Where it’s due

A funny thing happens when you start saying yes to things. You become your own best friend.

Going straight to “yes” is not my factory setting. I overthink and overanticipate everything. It makes me an excellent planner, a cool-headed navigator of emergencies, and a strong leader. In equal measure, it also makes me an inadvertent self-saboteur of my own enjoyment. I not only look before I leap; I look towards the landing zone the whole way down, so much that I miss the full experience and thrill of the leap itself.

Or at least, I was that type of person.

My true nature isn’t suddenly erased and replaced, of course. I will still instinctively mentally map out every possible outcome in the name of contingency preparation for even seemingly inconsequential things, 90% of the time.1 The difference is that I now know that even if consequences other than the most-ideal ones happen as a result of my decision, it’s probably worth that bit of messiness for the trade-off of feeling enjoyment during the leap. Why should I turn everything into stakes-based choices full of weighted consequences? If it sounds good, why not jus say yes and trust myself to figure out how to go from there no matter what? Nothing is guaranteed; all my scenario planning is only a best guess, anyway. It makes more sense to believe that it — whatever it is — will work out as it’s meant to regardless of my decision, and know that I am capable of managing that — whatever that is — when the time comes.

This was not a choice I actively reflected on and then made, but rather my analysis of how my mindset shifted and my lived aftermath in the time since. I can honestly say that my life has improved as a result of it. I wasn’t consciously aware that I needed this change, but circumstances conspired that pushed me into it, and I’ve never looked back. I talked about it in elusive terms here and here, but as I’m feeling kind of wistful today, I’m going to expound just a little on some of those pieces now.

While I was aggressively job hunting this summer, I got to the final interview stage with what seemed like a good prospect. Unfortunately, that stage was a rather ludicrous task-based presentation I needed to prepare and then deliver to a 7-person panel before a Q&A. Concurrently, I was taking inventory of my relationships and re-evaluating their places in my life respective to the effort it required to maintain them. This was not unrelated to how people showed up (or not) for me when I was going through a very difficult time that had begun in February and from which I was still very much reeling. On top of this, I was plagued with self-doubt born of that struggle, and of my lifelong subpar but worsening physical health (and appearance) at a time when I desperately needed confidence to surmount the various hurdles on my path to a safe landing.

Enter: the external forces.

I found a professional support group of people who saw through my shaky veneer, to my true self. They supported me, they reminded me who I am, and they commiserated with me — but more importantly, they did so without coddling me and letting me avoid doing the work. They pushed me to tap into my strength, which wasn’t as inaccessible as I had made myself believe. Being a part of that community helped me rediscover my brand of personal inner magic that I needed not only to get through that season, but also to present to outside entities that needed to see it in order to find me an appealing candidate.

When I first started my tentative return to the gym, I was unsure of my ability, weak on my commitment, and hesitant to push myself in the way I needed to. Early on, I got an injury that worsened when it got infected, and the necessary pause from high-intensity workouts forced me back into my head when I had finally gotten back into my body. Knowing the risks that this presented, I took control by returning to playing instruments and starting to venture back into unstructured creative writing again. It kept things under control when my physical outlet was temporarily unavailable.

I gradually started getting out of the house more. I intentionally spent productive time in cafes on weekdays with a then-acquaintance who has a wfh job, who has become an actual friend as a result. We helped each other not only stay focused during those sessions, but we also encouraged and supported each other as we both grappled with getting through our respective tough situations.

There were also plenty of constants who were by my side throughout that wobbly chapter of my life. They checked on me, they lovingly imposed kind gestures on me, they found ways to give me space AND make sure I knew they were in my corner. I would be remiss to not mention that. I am, and have always been, as people-rich as it gets.

I finally found an insightful, competent therapist with true professionalism but also an actual personality, whose care and commitment I have never questioned. Working with her and being able to tell her things I have not talked about with anyone else has been a huge relief, not to mention a huge help in keeping a clear head. It’s the first positive experience I have had with therapy after several attempts over the years, and it came along at exactly the right time.

And finally… the doorstep deliveries. Not literal ones. Ones that showed up on my phone. In the form of completely unexpected and out-of-the-blue texts. Which were total context shifts from platonic to very much NOT that. From two different guys. Within the same week. The, um, charge of that got me going — interpret that however you want and you won’t be wrong — and gave me good distractions (enjoy the leap!), made me feel desirable when on my own I was feeling the opposite, and provided enough of an energy boost to kick my workouts into high gear. I almost don’t want to give this kind of credit here, but keeping it 100, it’s correctly placed. My motivation skyrocketed at the moment that turned out to be the most essential. Doorstep deliveries set the energy bar , which became the pivot point that has originated my inarguably successful recommitment to my health for the second half of this godawful year — and let’s just say the porch light is still on.

That all being said, the biggest share of the credit ultimately belongs to… me.

Saying that is not selfish. It’s not even bragging. It’s just true.

The universe could have lined up this same set of circumstances for anyone, and they might have done different things with them — or they might have done nothing at all with them.

I said yes.2

At every turn, I chose myself. I chose my actions and I enacted my decisions. I stayed on my own side. I respected my needs and what would give me something positive in the moment, promising myself to capitalize on it and bank on a high-yield ROI. Was it perfect? Of course not. Was it without hiccups, bumps in the road, weirdness, or twists and turns that produced entirely new challenges of different proportions? I mean, obviously not; that’s way too specific a list for the answer to this (clearly rhetorical question) to be anything but no. But the point is, I saw things clearly and for what they were, and did not let any undesirable potential or real outcomes deter me from my priorities. When I got stuck in my head, I knew how to get myself out safely. When I felt apprehension, I believed in my abilities to handle it and coached myself through it. When I caught myself wondering if I should have done something differently, I shrugged it off as a pointless internal debate because I was where I was; the only thing I could do now was move forward, with a little more insight and wisdom. And, importantly, when presented with any new challenge, I continued to say yes.

That’s how I wound up on 75 Hard. I’m currently on day 70. I’ll do a whole other long-winded post after I successfully complete the 75 days, so I won’t veer off in that direction now. What I will say is that it has not only solidified my path forward, but it may very well have helped me change my life.

I will end with this: being your own best friend isn’t sad. It’s a necessity. By saying yes to things outside of my head, I was actually saying yes to myself. That’s the true choice I am making every day. I choose fun. I choose joy. I choose quality interactions over quantity of friendships. I choose health. I choose laughter. I choose trying. I choose failure as a possible option, and I choose to not be afraid of that. I choose a fuller life. I choose me.

I say yes.

  1. Not including vacations. I am somehow a free spirit when I’m traveling. ↩︎
  2. The only “rule” I’ve set around this that it can’t be with the knowledge that anything I say yes to might be hurting someone — myself or anyone else. ↩︎
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NEW DAY 119: It’s all write

Sometimes when I have nothing to say, I end up saying the most.

I generally prefer to keep the parameters of this blog limited to weight loss, weight management, and physical fitness, with the occasional foray into related areas like mental health that directly connect to the experiences I have along my path. I’ll (perhaps annoyingly) refer, in vague terms, to parts of my personal life that have an impact on these things, simply because they inform my thoughts and/or feelings around a given topic — but without straying too far from the crux of Life Can’t Weight or revealing too much about myself. And to be completely honest, that can be really hard at times.

One lesson I have (re)learned this year for the gazillionth time is how absolutely essential it is for me to keep a good balance of systems in place that help in my overall picture of self care. Wellbeing is about the delicate, interconnected components of life and how they affect us as humans existing in our time and place. Precious little is within our control when you stop to think about it; how we manage our immediate environment is in many cases the extent of it for a given person.

My special combination that keeps me feeling in check is quality nourishment, meaningful socialization, productivity (through professional or personal work), creative output, physical activity, reflection-based expression, and sufficient sleep. When any of those things is absent or underrepresented for too long, the whole system breaks down. Lately, managing my physical health has been so overrepresented that it has dominated my schedule and, consequently, my thoughts. Although each day is still different, the routine and my thinking are more or less the same.

The effect this has is that it makes me less inclined to write here or anywhere else, and particularly when I have too much time between therapy sessions, my reflection-based expression time suffers. Because I’m not operationalizing that release valve, my sleep suffers. With less energy from a rest deficit, I have no interest in creative pursuits. Without a proper channel for my creative drive — on top of the lacking energy and sorted-out emotions — I feel ill-equipped to socialize; I’m less patient, more taciturn, and in the mindset that I’m poor company and should spare other people from that type of interaction.

You can see where this is going. One by one, the dominoes fall, and the whole structure topples. And that’s the state in which I currently find myself. I’m writing here right now because I have nothing to say — and that says it all.

There are so many thoughts constantly racing through my mind, it would stand to reason that I could simply grab a hold of one of them and use it as a writing topic, or a real-life conversation starter, or even an opportunity for creative expression. Instead, what happens is I fall through every mental trap door that leads to some tangential thought that spirals into something else entirely, and I get stuck in an endless web of overthinking that allows zero peace. The only time my brain is quiet is when I’m doing a challenging workout that requires my full focus. As much as that sucks when I’m not pushing myself through intense exercise, it’s such a gift that I can count on that time to convert the ceaseless frenetic nonsense into a physically healthy endeavor while also expelling it from myself, even if only for a brief period.

The story of this year has been just get through this. First, it was just get through this bad news. But before that could happen, it became just get through this loss. Concurrently for part of that, it was just get through this sickness and just get through this financial drought.
Just get through this uncertainty.
Just get through this horrendous job market.
Just get through this emotional pain.
Just get through this physical pain.
Just get through this relationship strain.
Just get through this boring book.
Just get through this unpleasant conversation.
Just get through this adjustment period.
Just get through this self-doubt.
Just get through this waiting for a response.
Just get through this waiting for an initiation.
Just get through this 75 Hard challenge.
Just get through this day.
Just get through this night.
Just get through this sentence.

Until what?

When does it get better? When is it enjoyable and not just an impediment on the way to something that is? More importantly, how do I activate enjoyment instead of just getting through waiting for it to happen?

There aren’t answers to these questions. As with many things, the only way out is through. I can decide one thing: whether to keep going or not. For now, I choose to keep going.

When I’m out of survival mode and my brain space frees up again, I can commit seriously to reclaiming my agency beyond that flimsy choice.

I have to just get through this first.

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NEW DAY 114: Pic a little, talk a little

This has been a frustrating week. I am feeling so TGIF, I could be watching Boy Meets World. (#Millennials) In fact, here’s a gif — because you can’t spell TGIF without GIF.

(Yes, I know it would have been better to have put a Boy Meets World gif there, but I didn’t. Let’s move on.)

The 75 Hard tasks this week have felt like a heavy lift, particularly those pesky second workouts. Getting myself psyched up enough to go do workout #2 every evening has been an EFFORT. But I’ve been doing it! I still feel good at the end of my exercise sessions and have no designs on quitting the challenge, but the challenge was much easier and more enjoyable until the recent switch away from when I genuinely looked forward to both. Sixty-two days is a long time to go without a single rest day, and needless to say, 75 days is even longer. It’s simply starting to wear on me.

…believe it or not, “wear on me” is actually a phrase I didn’t intend to use there, but damn if it isn’t a completely perfect pivot point — because I just finished combing through my library of 75 Hard daily progress selfies and noticing the differences in how my workout clothes have been *literally* wearing on me these past 2 months. The garb I’m usually rocking in my photos is my outdoor workout stuff: shorts and a sleeveless top. Today, I wore the exact same combination of top and bottom attire that I wore back on day 13, so I pulled up the two pics for a side-by-side comparison.

Holy whoa.

I knew I could feel a difference in how the clothes were fitting, but actually seeing the differences through the cruelly objective camera lens really hit. A pu pu platter of my reaction thoughts:

  • I was so much bigger 49 days ago — and that was after having already lost a notable amount of weight in the two months leading up to that point.
  • Day 62 Me looks taller.
  • 75 Hard is chiseling a shape out of the amorphous blob that was my figure 2 months ago.
  • Gosh, Day 13 Me looks unhappy.

It’s been an eventful 9 weeks, both in terms of what my body has extraneously endured and persevered through in the name of sticking with the challenge, as well as in the grand scheme of things life wise. It’s no wonder I’ve felt drained lately (although that’s been less of an issue since my most recent period ended a few days ago). If I were capable of sustaining a camera-lens level of objectivity at all times, I’d more readily have the accurate perspective that I’ve absolutely dominated these past 62 days in spite of some true nonsense that’s come my way in that time.

I will honor the sad person in the day 9 photo who wants to feel better, to look better, to do better, to be better. I know I’m gonna finish 75 Hard — I know that. And it’s gonna feel freakin’ fantastic.

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NEW DAY 110: Shadowy figures

For the second week in a row, my weight loss wasn’t what I was hoping for.

It’s true that any loss is a move in the right direction — and objectively, the amount I shed this past week was an amount I’ll probably kill to have a few months from now — but the back-to-back modest decreases on the scale seem unaligned with the effort (and exhaustion) I’ve put in for the past two weeks.

As always, I try to keep perspective: weight loss during 75 Hard is a happy byproduct, not the primary goal. I’m working on my mental toughness and keeping commitments to myself, and I’m coming through on those fronts so far. That said, I’d be lying if I claimed to have no hoped-for final total number of lost pounds in mind for this challenge — and it’s hard not to fixate on that alongside my personally disappointing numbers from the past two weeks.

BUT there are plenty of other positives to focus on. For one, I’ve racked up another official DietBet victory as of today, and am only 1.1 pound away from winning the Kickstarter that ends a week from now. I’ve persisted with 75 Hard (day 58, baby!) and continued to prioritize my health. And, most excitingly, I’m seeing more and more evidence of the physical changes in my body.

Over the weekend, I tried on 7 dresses that didn’t fit when I first started 75 Hard. Three of them now fit, and the other 4 should by the time the challenge is over. I found my very old fat pants and saw tonight that they’re too big at the waist by about 6 inches. I’ve moved a ring I’ve been wearing on my ring finger to my middle finger so it won’t slide off. I can see more bones in my hands and feet. Perhaps most unexpectedly and strangest of all: my shadow looks thinner.

Now I know that shadows aren’t the best metric of, well, anything. But I’ve been staring at mine during outdoor workouts for nearly 2 full months as it walks, jogs, and dances alongside me. During these outings, I’ve seen the bulges and pudge accentuated by the sun in ways that not even the mirror is cruel enough to shove in my face so mercilessly. Suddenly, this week, there’s, like… a whole lot less of that.

My figure is smoother. It’s not just that it moves more fluidly; its lines are more continuous. It’s more graceful, less bulky, and somehow more confident. It’s perhaps a strange thing to notice, but it’s also an impossible one not to.

It’s important to pay attention to how all of the normal markers are changing during a weight-loss mission. Non-scale victories are validating and affirming when the numbers don’t feel satisfying, and they’re helpful data beyond the unreliable narrator that is That Number. Things that keep me sane are pretty worthwhile, I’ve found, so I’ll always welcome them with open arms — even if some might call them a little shady. 😉

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NEW DAY 108: Hearty fatigue

I sound like a broken record, but I can’t believe how tired I am. I was so drained on Thursday that even after a pair of sweaty workouts during the day, I had insufficient energy to even take a shower before I went to bed. Yet my body is so accustomed to a certain rhythm that it won’t let me sleep any more than I’m sleeping.

I’m realizing that it’s not only my body that’s tired, though. Or my consciousness. It’s mainly my heart. (Metaphysically speaking, of course.)

After a rough event about a year ago, I said to a few friends that I felt like a balled-out melon. It was like someone had sliced me in half, scooped out my insides, and given away the good parts of me, leaving a discarded rind for me to somehow regenerate enough human essence to fill back up if I wanted to keep going.

In February of this year, I felt that same way. I’ve spent the intervening months trying to make myself whole again. I’ve had some success: I’ve produced creatively, I’ve landed a new job, I’ve re-established a few interpersonal connections, I’ve given myself a vacation, I’ve tried new things, I’ve had new ideas, and I’ve made huge strides towards improving my overall health. But underneath it all, I’m still feeling a lot of sadness and loss and hurt. I’m still grappling with a lack of answers that I know I’ll never get. As I’ve said to a similar arrangement of friends, it takes a lot of energy for the body to quietly run depression.exe in the background of everything else.

This isn’t to say I’m consciously miserable or actively struggling, or anywhere near the same spot I was stuck in 7-8 months ago; I’m not thinking about this all day, or even fleetingly every day. I’ve put a great deal of effort into recovering, and I have made progress. The full process simply takes an unknowable amount of time, and there are reminders in my life that are both animate and inanimate which keep some of the deeper cuts feeling fresh. Even the more superficial wounds aren’t healed; they’ve just entered a different phase of scabbing.

Hard things are hard.

I am certain that I’m focusing on the right stuff to restore my quality of life. It’s not — and can’t be — to the total exclusion of all else, though, so the dark stuff is going to creep in sometimes. Learning how to make space for that without allowing it to become consuming is another challenge for me to figure out. I will. I am.

But my non-anatomical heart could use some caffeine.

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NEW DAY 103: Milestones update

I’m still tired and it’s after 10 PM, so I’m gonna skip the fanfare here.

It’s been 100 days since I recommitted to my health. Here are some milestones and stats that speak for themselves without preamble.

Firsts:

  • Ran 6 miles in one shot on the elliptical
  • Tried 75 Hard (24 days to go!)
  • Bent at the waist and put my palms flat on the floor (without bending my knees)

Re-Ables (Things I Can Do Again):

  • Fit in a restaurant booth
  • Walk up stairs without getting winded
  • Drive without my belly touching the steering wheel
  • Buckle into a car seat without pulling the seatbelt all the way out in order to fasten it
  • Touch my nose to the ground while seated on the floor and leaning forward at the waist
  • Pull my foot to the side of my head
  • Take a deep breath that fills my lungs
  • Walk at a normal pace of 3.0+ mph (working up to old normal of 3.5)
  • Jog

Stats:

  • Pants sizes dropped: 3
  • Shirt sizes dropped: 1
  • Dress sizes dropped: 2
  • Pounds lost: 42.2

**I realized a good 6 weeks after making this post that I had misnumbered most of the titles from this year, so these milestones weren’t actually posted on my 100th day. Oh wellsies!

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NEW DAY 102: Feel the burn

For the last few days, I’ve noticed an unfortunate new trend: I get heartburn every time I eat. It doesn’t matter what time of day it is or even what I’m eating; it’s every time. It sticks around for up to 20-30 minutes after I finish and then stays away until the next time I eat something. I’m pretty much only drinking flat unflavored water these days, but I have noticed this happening the handful of times I’ve had coffee this past week, too. Tums reliably kill my heartburn nearly instantaneously, but they contain sugar, which means I can’t take them while I’m on 75 Hard without violating my chosen meal plan — so all there is to do is ride it out.

Needless to say, this is not delightful. I haven’t had heartburn in so long that I can’t guess, but it’s safe to say that my last instance of it was several months ago. Since then, my health has objectively improved along with my eating habits. I’m also not consuming anything unusual this week; it’s all things my body is used to and has never had a problem with before. It’s not the worst acid reflux I’ve ever experienced, but it’s weird for this to be happening. What could cause sudden heartburn like this?

I made the mistake of asking Google. Most common causes:

  • Alcohol — nope
  • Coffee and other sources of caffeine, including chocolate — nope
  • Carbonated drinks — nope
  • Peppermint or spearmint — nope
  • Spicy, fatty, or greasy foods — nope
  • Acidic fruits and vegetables, like tomatoes, onions, and citrus —nope
  • Pregnancy — nope
  • Side effects of medication — nope
  • Smoking — nope
  • Weight gain — nope
  • Anxiety — I mean, a little, but generally I’d say nope

So if it’s not any of those things, that leaves three options:

  1. This is a freak occurrence that will disappear as mysteriously as it began
  2. Something else is going on that I can’t figure out because I’m not a doctor
  3. This is an indicator of something more serious, like a hernia, ulcer, GERD, or heart attack 😬

My money’s on #2. And so the riding it out continues, I suppose.

Oh, and I’d like to personally thank my fellow Googlers for search term #3. New fear unlocked.

In other news, it’s a momentous occasion: day 50 of 75 Hard! Once all my daily tasks are checked off, it means this challenge is officially ⅔ done. Just 3½ weeks left! I wish I could say I was feeling a resurgence in enthusiasm for it, but I’m still doing a lot of pulling myself along. I had been looking forward to my weekly weigh-in today in hopes that it would give me a little boost, but it didn’t; this was the second-lowest drop I’ve posted during 75 Hard. I’m clinging to the notion that my lowest weekly loss (1.8 lbs) was followed by my highest ever (7.2 lbs), so maybe that history will repeat itself and I’ll be looking at a bigger, more satisfying number next week.

No time to fixate on any of that now, though. Last week is last week. I’m off for my outdoor workout where I’ll try a new trail in the sun. 😎

EDIT ADDED AFTER INITIAL POST:
I just took a look at my active DietBets to see my progress to goal for each one. I knew that I’d already won the one I’m in that ends tomorrow, but I have two other Kickstarters and a Transformer going. For the other Kickstarters, I’m within reach by those end dates with 1.4 lbs left to lose for the bet ending October 5th (one week from today) and 3.5 lbs to go for the one ending the following week on the 12th. I had locked up round 2 of my Transformer bet already, but I looked at that bet anyway to see where I was in relation to my overall 10% weight loss goal to hit by February. And, um:

I am 1.6 lbs under my final Transformer goal, which is 10% of my August 11th body weight. WHOA.

Once one or two of my current Kickstarters end, I’m seriously considering entering a second concurrent Transformer. I’m not really tracking my progress anywhere but in these blog posts, so seeing graphs like this on DB is hugely encouraging. (Yes, I realize I could easily track this stuff somewhere, but I have some pretty serious app fatigue.)

I’m glad I had that peek. My weight loss this week wasn’t enough to make me feel great on its own, but it was enough to get me beyond the finish line of a much loftier goal with a longer timeline.

It all adds up — it’s just a matter of perspective.

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NEW DAY 101: Happy trails

One of the things I appreciate the most about 75 Hard is its requirement for an outdoor workout every day. Sure, it’s a hassle if there’s inclement weather that either throws a wrench in my planning or forces me to get attacked by the elements if bad conditions hit during my session, but getting outside has been wonderful for me. The daily dose of sunshine, fresh air, scenery, increased vitamin D, and exposure to nature combine to form a powerful mood booster that has helped stabilize my emotions, allowed me to clear my head, and and given me a prescription to get out of the house to shake up my stale surroundings.

I started tentatively exploring the greenway near my house earlier this summer, well before 75 Hard was even in my vocabulary. One of my first visits there is when I took a spill and busted my knee, which triggered a weeks-long hiatus from going there again. Since beginning 75 Hard, though, that greenway has become a staple in my routine — but I haven’t spent much time on the actual trails that make up the greenway. On my normal trips to the site, I fast-walk (and sometimes attempt to jog) around — and stop for frequent dance breaks in — the large paved surface up a small hill from the parking area. Trudging into the sprawling footpaths has felt intimidating to me; there’s no area map, so I can’t tell where the trails go, see how they all connect, or get a sense of how long it might take me to complete a given circuit. Since the time I’m there is usually my lunch break, I’m hesitant to experiment with what could turn into a very long walk and then be scrambling for time, or late returning to work. On top of all that, the last time I did venture back into one of the trails this summer, I made it about 10 minutes in before I got too winded by the hills to continue, so I turned back and left. I’ve been reluctant to do a repeat of that, so I haven’t bothered.

Until today.

I wasn’t feeling particularly eager to get out there for workout #1 this morning. It’s overcast, I haven’t slept well in days, and I’m bored with the same old routine. I finally coaxed myself down to the greenway and decided today was the day I would mix it up by at last giving the trails another try. Armed with a clear schedule and dozens upon dozens of podcasts to catch up on, I headed into the great unknown.

It took exactly the 45 minutes I needed to count as a 75 Hard exercise sesh. And furthermore, the hills were manageable! Towards the end, when I knew I was completing the loop back to the parking area, I kept trying to identify the point where I had given up and about-faced out of the trail 3 months ago. I never figured it out, even though it was the same trail; I reached the exit in total confusion, lungs full of air and not at all out of breath.

I really enjoyed the different experience and feeling of exploration I got to have today, and I’m looking forward to doing more of that at the greenway. Changing it up can be a small risk, but it’s almost always worth it. Now that I have a variety of new paths to infuse some novelty into my outdoor workout options, I’m feeling a bit more energized about the remaining 26 days I have on 75 Hard.

Again, I’m so glad I’m obligated to get out there for exercise every day. It’s expanding my horizons while helping me become measurably fitter. This challenge has given me the opportunity to surprise myself over and over again, and that’s been priceless.

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NEW DAY 100: I’m tired, boss

It’s day 48 of 75 Hard, and I’m writing this from the moving walking pad in my home office as I finish this second-to-last task of the day. Less than one month from now, this challenge will be over and I’ll be assessing my performance during it.

Right now, I’m tiiiiiiiiiired. It took 2 full weeks for my apex predator of a cold to finally fuck off, and although I feel almost 100% better, I still have some residual phlegm and nasalness to my voice. Blazing through 14 straight days of that unwelcome guest to my immune system possibly protracted my recovery time, since 75 Hard does not allow for any rest days. I doubtlessly got through that mostly on adrenaline, and now that my inner cheerleader is slightly lowering her megaphone, I’m feeling some sort of crash. It doesn’t help that yesterday and today, scheduling hiccups outside of my control threw off my usual routine of a midday outdoor workout followed by an indoor post-work exercise session. Those disruption-induced changes resulted in every kind of restlessness: antsy feelings during the day as I itched to get my movement in, no time for a pause between things thanks to the congestion in my daily activities, and evening workouts late enough to spike my energy before bedtime and cost me sleep at night. A big ol’ UGH to all of that.

I’m not sure how the scale will reflect the blah of the latter portion of this week, but I did the best I could under the circumstances. What I do have indications of is how the world is reflecting my 75 Hard-fueled changes thus far:

  • My clothes are looser. I wore an outfit on Tuesday that I last wore 6 weeks prior, on August 11th. At the time, the pants were new and slightly snug, and the top was old but recently re-shrunken into — though it did hug me too tightly when I sat down in it. This week, I was swimming in both articles of clothing to the point where I looked and felt ridiculous. Neither piece is long for this world.
  • My face and shoulders are slimmer. In a recorded video of myself seated and speaking directly into the camera for 45 minutes from two weeks ago, I’m rocking puffy cheeks, a double chin, and outward-sloping shoulders. My most-recent 75 Hard progress photos — and, dare I say, mirrors — show a consistent face width, a single chin (at many angles), and shoulders whose edges almost align perpendicularly with the floor.
  • People in my in-person social circle are remarking on my physical changes out loud. Over the weekend, my dad hit me with a “there seems to be less of you!” This morning, I met a friend for a half-day working session at a coffee shop and she commented something along the lines of being able to tell that 75 Hard is working for me.

So yes, I’m low on energy right now. I may even be running low on enthusiasm. But I am NOT low determination, commitment, or sticktoitiveness. And while my fire may need new kindling, it helps that I don’t have the sole responsibility of producing it this time. The above list of real-world reflections is coming through with a lot of that heavy lifting.

And now, we weekend.

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NEW DAY 97: To heal, the six

Four days after I broke 5 miles for the first time in over 8 years, I hit 6 for the first time ever in my life. I hit 6.01, to be exact: that’s 6 miles and .01 to grow on.

My nasty hanger-on of a cold is still not all the way gone (!), but I’m putting nails in its coffin every chance I get. Breaking 6 miles tonight was not planned; I had a what-if spark early in my elliptical run and just felt I could get there — and then the feeling of what if and I could turned into I’m gonna make this happen. And I did make it happen! In 65 minutes exactly.

It was not as easy as that; I did almost stop at a few different points, and I did wonder if I was writing checks my body couldn’t cash. Would I potentially injure something in this mad pursuit? Would I be decrepit the next day? Well, to hell with the fear. There’s no place for that in this. Decide you want it, and then go get it.

I’m recovering not only from illness, but from trauma. The first half of this year was miserable, yes, but it’s deeper and longer than that.

I didn’t know if my legs — perpetually at high risk of ankle injury — could still do this.
I didn’t know if my lungs — 7.5 years removed from multiple massive pulmonary embolisms — could still do this.
I didn’t know if my mind — plagued by faltering, tentative confidence still in the process of rebuilding — could still do this.

Well… they could.

And they did.

With every step towards 6.01, I proved something critical to myself. It’s not just that I’m physically capable or mentally strong. It’s bigger than that. It’s that I’m healing. I’m learning to trust myself, to believe in myself, and to care for myself again. And even if it’s months before I see 6.00 on another gym screen, I will revel in the moment when I was still unsteady and took command of my story like never before anyway. Because I wanted to, I believed I could, and I decided to.

That’s fortitude. That’s resilience. That’s growth.

That’s recovery.

That’s what leads to peace.

I didn’t cry when it happened like I thought I would. Something even better happened: I got emotional, and I leaned into it. I let the waves of pride, surprise, impressed-ness, relief, success, joy, and accomplishment wash over me. I felt it all. After months years of self-preservation-based blunted feelings, I felt it all. It was the type of rush that is life-affirming. It was the type of rush I thought I was no longer capable of experiencing.

POSSIBILITY.

I may find a way back after all.