Tag Archives: working-out

by

NEW DAY 162: Thankful

Here’s a sentence that February-Me did not think my fingers would be typing in 2025: there are a lot of things to be thankful for this year. When it was my turn to share one of my points of gratitude around the Thanksgiving table this year, the one I went with was, “I am thankful that this year will be ending so much better than it started.”

It’s the healing emotional and psychological wounds from those violent first 3 months. It’s the tangible incoming changes I went after and earned in later parts of the year. It’s the exciting events on the horizon for myself and the people I care about. It’s the ability to believe in more good to come because of the good that is already here. It’s the way it all feels as a composite.

To keep the focus on health and weight loss, I took two grueling walks while staying with my parents for this holiday. The first was around their very hilly neighborhood: a 3-mile circuit I used to power walk in my late 20s that took about an hour, with some amount of difficulty. The last time I attempted it was on day 4 of 75 Hard this past summer. With the extra 48 lbs on my August body, it was a struggle; I truncated the distance to about half the full course and had to take frequent breaks to negotiate some of the most punishing hills, just to get through it a puffy, sweaty, depleted mess.
On Thanksgiving Day, I walked that full circuit without a single stop, including the final 20 minutes when it was lightly snowing. It was challenging and it demanded full cooperation from every muscle below my waist — and as a team, we met that challenge.

The second walk was from their house to the nearby park for a shorter but steeper set of hills. It’s been at least a month since I last trifled with the path that goes through the park, but more than 10 years since I tried to walk to the park from their home, which is also a hilly (and not super pedestrian friendly) route. This one’s total distance is about 2 miles, but takes about as long as the neighborhood one because of the unfavorable footing conditions and sharp inclines.
Today, I not only managed it in less than an hour — also in light snow — but I remained energized throughout the trek, which was not the case 5-6 weeks back when I last trudged that path.

This illustrates my notable progress on its own, but I also have to underscore what a big deal it is to have done so while still being a little cautious while still side-eyeing this bum ankle. Most importantly, though, I wanted to tackle those hills. I wanted to scale those steep grades. I wanted to conquer those paths.

A month ago, my attitude was still tentative, still hesitant, and still unconfident. Not anymore.

AND these exercise breaks were retreats and reward for myself, not annoying interruptions that I resented for cutting into my holiday family time and taking me away from an excuse to over-indulge in poor consumption choices. I looked forward to the walks for my mental recentering and welcomed the accompanying satisfaction and relief that came from completing them, and never thought about food at all.

Add to these little triumphs the experience of the meal itself, and it feels like a work of fiction. I had one normal-sized serving of each of the dishes I wanted rather than mounds of multiple helpings of sinful components at Thanksgiving dinner. When dessert came, I did opt for a little slice of my mom’s famous cheesecake — and I didn’t freak out. I spent zero seconds calculating calories or obsessing over sugar intake. Instead, I got to be present in the holiday moments with my family rather than trapped inside my head while I engaged in some sadistic battle of wits with temptation. And I got to go to bed feeling full, but not stuffed — and not at all deprived.

I had no temptation. I just had dinner.
And then dessert.

And then, no regrets.

Will I lose weight this week? I don’t know.

And for truly the first time EVER when I’ve been in Healthy Self Mode, I truly do not care.

What mattered to me this holiday was being able to enjoy it without the creeping anxiety of being surrounded by “dangerous” options.
Because I’ve spent the past 5 months learning how to trust myself, I got to do that.
And for that, I am deeply thankful.

by

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. ↩ī¸Ž
  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. ↩ī¸Ž
by

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.

by

NEW DAY 26: Round and round

I upped my elliptical time to 25 straight minutes today. I’m inching closer and closer to my old normal 35 minutes — though that was HIIT. I’m hopefully building back to being able to do that again.

I didn’t feel that tired during that run. I could have kept going. But I wanted to pace myself and move up the time incrementally week to week, so that if I can’t repeat longer than 25 minutes tomorrow, I’m not cursing myself. Also…

My knee hurts.

What the heck?

I fell 5 days ago, and now my knee decides to start complaining? Knee, who raised you?!

It’s not the worst pain; it’s bruised and colorful, probably a little inflamed, but not really affecting my life in general. I hope it flares right back down soon. All the concern about protecting my ankle, and I didn’t factor in that my knee could become the problem child. I really don’t want to overdo it and have a situation on my hands legs, so I’ll have to be careful while still trying to build my stamina back up and get my burns in.

It’s supposed to be lousy, stormy weather most of this week, so there’ll be only indoor workouts. Here’s hoping no body aches, pains, or whines get in the way — and that no current ones get worse!

In other news, I’m still somehow feeling zero interest or temptation in what have long been my trigger foods. This still greatly perplexes me, but I’m gonna appreciate it and ride the wave as long as I can. I feel oddly guilty, like I’m getting away with something for not having to struggle with this like I used to (and like most people do), but I accept this gift from the fitness gods with open arms. I’ll keep going through the motions and hope the improved mental health, emotional control, and physical improvements continue to follow.

by

NEW DAY 15: It’s aliiiiiiiiiiive!

Forgive me, blog, for I have sinned. It has been **checks notes** 7 years (đŸ¤¯) since my last post.

Every spring, I have to decide whether to renew the annual cost of owning this domain name. Every year since 2018, I have come very close to hitting cancel. It’s only out of sheer laziness that I haven’t. I finally figured that I’m paying for this thing — I might as well use it. There’s plenty to write, and if all goes well, there will be plenty more.

To say it’s been a strange ride since I last wrote in here would be a laughable understatement. To try to do any kind of meaningful actual update on those intervening years would be equally ridiculous. So I’m picking up here at this time code without concern for what was missed in the fast forward. The plot had its twists and turns, but the ending is still on its way and TBD by plenty of other factors.

What I will say about the time since February 2018 is that it can be characterized by a few choice words. The one rolling around in my mind right now is “almost.” I came close to realizing a lot of my priorities. Some of them, I did realize, only to see them crumble.

Frustrating. Sad. Wasteful.

In the past now.

This year has been particularly challenging, in a way that no year since 2018 has been — not even those pandemic years. I’ve been staggering through events in my personal life that have toppled the structure I had built atop what I believed to be a sturdy foundation, and which have left me questioning core pieces of my worldview. Everything about this time has been erratic. I’ve been emotionally volatile, my energy has been virtually non-existent from the simmering anger and sadness always coursing through me, I have been getting nowhere near enough socialization, my eating/sleeping/activity/bathing/general adulting habits have been all over the place; there has been no routine to speak of.

I’ve felt wronged, insulted, tarnished, judged, abandoned, unimportant, forgotten, betrayed, mistreated, and rejected.

I’ve felt stressed, alone, scared, confused, hurt, angry, stupid, hopeless, devastated, nervous, useless, mournful, and exhausted.

I thought more than once about giving up entirely.

I knew incorporating exercise into my life would make a difference. When I think of the time in my life when I was most emotionally, psychologically, and physically healthy, it was when I was disciplined around being physically active. The two-pronged problem standing in my way for months was a total lack of motivation alongside deep apathy.

Then one day — if you’ll forgive the facile, cryptic, and highly suspect jump cut (again) — everything in the space around me was suddenly batshit crazy. That’s coming from someone who was pretty sure she was the dictionary definition of crazy at this point, so to see that things around me had out-crazied me to the batshit level was… something. The abrupt intensity filled me with a new kind of restlessness that was frenetic, and HAD to be released before I exploded into a million pieces. And so I found myself back at the gym for the first time in years.

For the past two weeks, I have been sticking with my plans and commitments to self to prioritize my overall health.
I am running again.
I am preparing thoughtful meals for myself and not consuming meals from restaurants again.
I am managing my finances responsibly again.
I am writing to detangle my thoughts again.
I am making an effort to keep a social life again.
I am getting out of bed in the morning again.

I am trying again.

**deep breath**