You know where I’m not right now? I am not currently powering through Track 6 at spinning class (track 6 is speedwork which leads to Track 7 which is mountain climb). I am not sweaty and out of breath and pink-faced. And I am not happy about it.
I got home after work tonight and raced against the clock to make my lunch, pack my gym bag, make a salmon dinner so that Ray had something to take in his lunch tomorrow, fold two loads of laundry and then get in the car and go down to spinning….only to discover that I had left my cycling shoes at home. Since I go to the gym in flip flops it was an instant evening ender.
The drive home was brutal, my mind beat the crap out of me.
- “You did this on purpose!”
- “No wonder you’re fat!”
- “How do you expect to get anywhere when this is how you behave?”
- “You better find some way to make this up!”
I could keep going but I think you get the picture. Now that I’ve calmed down a little and dried my tears (yes, I cried for missing spinning class tonight), I can think rationally about what happened and move on.
Going back and reading that list of words and comments above is horrible. HORRIBLE. Could you imagine if you had the same thing happen, you got to the gym and realized you had no choice but to go home because of an honest mistake. Imagine that you then told me, your friend, what had happened and I said that stuff above to you?????? What a truly awful person I would be.
Fortunately I don’t think I’m a very awful person, so I’m calling an end to this. I have had enough. That black voice in my head has gotten just a little too loud for my liking. I think it’s good to have a slightly more aggressive voice in your head…I think it’s how we get places that are out of our comfort zone, it’s our internal personal trainer. But my aggressive voice has gotten a tad out of control and it’s time to put a muzzle on it.
When I quit eating my weight in pizza, ice cream and various other unmentionable crap that got me to over 250 pounds, I used one word to do it. When I quit smoking around the same time, I used one word to do it. “Stop.”. It’s not very scientific or technologically advanced but it works for me. Every time I wanted a cigarette and that voice started gearing up for a good internal tantrum I would just say that one word very firmly in my head, like a mother does to a child when they are being bratty. Every time I found myself down the cookie aisle at the grocery store planning God knows what, I would say it; “Stop.”. So now, when I’m beating myself up about my monthly bloat or my missed gym day for whatever valid reason…..”Stop.”. Calling myself fat 43 times a day isn’t helpful either….”Stop.”.
I have it in me to keep going and to work hard and to figure out how to break out of this little rut that my body seems to be in. I’m not a quitter and I’m not quitting. I’m just going to try to be a little nicer to myself along the way. After all, it seems a bit counterproductive to work hard and push my body if I am only going to be mean and hate on it instead of celebrate it for what it can achieve?
Isn’t it funny that you never know what’s on people’s insides? I may have lost my weight years ago but I apparantly hung onto some demons…and even though it’s not being worn on the outside anymore, the suffering is pretty much exactly the same sometimes.