As I explained, you won't be hearing the What's Your Excuse? type rhetoric from me, not as your trainer or your friend.
I think it's a BS line of reasoning that doesn't actually accomplish much except re-enforce the idea that your fitness goals shouldn't be about you, but are about society's idea of who you should be.
And that's not only ineffective for sustainable change- it's downright harmful.
And yet, many people- myself included- sometimes feel stuck in 'pre-flight' mode.
They want change.
They want to try new things.
They want to explore other ways of feeling good within their skin.
And they want someone to help them sort out how to do, and how to push through when they feel like they can't do it.
Which begs the question: When the will for change dries up, how does a body positive trainer motivate?
This might be the most important part of my job as a personal trainer. Most people who come to me aren't looking to maintain their progress. They are looking to evolve, grow and change their bodies and their lives in meaningful ways.
And- let's face it- that's not an easy process.
Let's begin by asking ourselves this question:
Why is change so hard?
That's a pretty complicated question that psychologists have been wrestling with for years.
One reason is that people naturally cling to what is familiar, even if what is familiar isn't comfortable. If the risk of change outweighs the cost of staying the same, often we will revert back to old patterns.
Take, for example, smoking: When we think of quitting smoking, the first thing that comes to mind is health related concerns. That's a pretty strong motivator, and for some people it is actually motivating enough. But for someone who is deeply addicted, who may not have other coping tools, who has mental health issues and who is already struggling to keep it together, the fear of dying 10 years earlier doesn't actually outweigh the fear of how they are going to get through the next 48 hours without their one coping mechanism.
That being said, if you were to tell that same person, "The next cigarette you have is going to kill you, immediately", you might see a different response in some people. At that point, for most people, the risk of smoking greatly outweighs the cost of quitting, even if they are in a state of crisis.
Cost vs benefit is a pretty difficult equation to map out. It's a deeply individual process.
Another barrier to change is that we don't always see positive benefits to our change habits, and this can feel demotivating and frustrating. This, again, relates back to the idea that the cost- what we have given up- doesn't outweigh the benefit that we are seeing in the immediate now. We know the long term is worth it, but that doesn't change the short term frustration.
And honestly, the most real answer- for me, anyway- is that habits are really hard to break. I find myself snacking on my kids' chips. Not because I'm hungry. Not because I'm emotionally eating. Not even necessarily because they are there.
I do it completely subconsciously, because it is what I have always done. And sometimes, I forget that what I am doing now is different from what I have always done until after I have done it.
Whatever the reason, old habits die hard.
So, getting back to our main question- how do we motivate change in a body positive way?
Part of that comes down to what the main motivator of the change is, and also the barrier in play.
Scenario 1:
Client: I don't want to work out today.
Trainer: No excuses. Get your gym clothes on.
The client might feel better about having done their work out, and they might even be able to remember that feeling in the future when they feel stuck again. But they haven't actually discussed the issue, and so both outcomes of those are really just gambles. It is entirely possible the client will actually feel worse, and that they will run into the same situation again.
Client: I don't want to work out today.
Body Positive Trainer: Why? What's holding you back?
Client: I am too tired and too busy.
Body Positive Trainer: What are you busy doing?
Client: I have a big assignment due tomorrow.
Body Positive Trainer: I hear that! Did you know that short bouts of exercise immediately improve academic performance? Doing exercise might even make you feel less tired.
Client: I know...but...
Body Positive Trainer: Listen, it's your choice- but you are here anyway. If you want to try and see how you feel after 15 minutes, we can do that. Remember, even 10 minutes goes a long way to making your feel more energetic and less stressed.
Client: Ok...
Body Positive Trainer: Why don't you choose which exercises we should start with. Then we can take it from there.
That conversation, above, is almost verbatim one that I had with a client. They stayed the entire session. And then, the next week, they messaged me to tell me that they exercised the night before their big exam in order to help them study for it. That's a client that now sees the cost/benefit equation of exercise vs. school very differently.
Of course, there were also a few a conversation that went like this:
Client: I don't want to work out today.
Body Positive Trainer: Why? What's holding you back?
Client: I feel really run down lately. I am just...tired.
Body Positive Trainer: How's your sleep been?
Client: It's been terrible. I am tossing and turning all night. It's so weird. I got tons of exercise in last week- I should be sleeping really well. But I am not, and my muscles still feel really sore from my work out three days ago.
Body Positive Trainer: Hmm...that doesn't sound like you're just 'tired'. That sounds like your body may be experiencing legitimate fatigue. It might be sending us signals that you need a bit of a break. I think we should postpone this session and respect your body. What do you think?
Client: Maybe. I just really don't feel up for it.
Sure enough, the next day, I got a message from the client saying that they were legitimately sick.
Not training the day before was the healthiest choice they could make.
In both scenarios, the key was the same: the first step was the uncover the barrier to motivation.
By asking "What's holding you back?", instead of "What's your excuse?", we create a judgement free space that allows us to really dig into the barriers to change, and uncover the root of the issue.
"What's holding you back?" is a neutral question. It doesn't imply than an explanation is owed, but opens up a space for judgement free dialogue about barriers.
Sometimes, the barriers are something that we can overcome.
Sometimes, they aren't.
But we don't know unless we ask, which means that we have to start from a legitimate place of respecting our change process, and understanding that change doesn't happen in a linear fashion. Habits, like everything else in life, ebb and flow and evolve and regress. Often, there are reasons behind these patterns that we aren't even aware of.
A What's Holding You Back? mentality allows us to validate the feelings associated with lifestyle and behaviour change, including fear and insecurity, and recognizes that a variety of factors affect our ability to effect change at any given moment.
Sometimes, you actually don't have time.
Sometimes, you actually don't have the energy.
Sometimes, you actually can't afford it, or don't know how to afford it.
Sometimes, you just need a break.
All of these things can be valid reasons for stepping away and catching your breath.
And yes, sometimes, your brain is playing tricks on you and you find out:
that you can find time,
that you do have the energy,
that you can learn skills that are economical and accessible for all levels.
that you need to move more than you think you do and
that it will make you feel better.
But unless you dig a little deeper and find out what's actually holding you back, you're never going to know.
Sometimes, the biggest hurdle to change is feeling like you have no support, no one to talk to.
Sometimes, someone asking you "What's holding you back?" is literally the best thing they can do for you.
Approach others- and yourself- with the non-judgmental presumption that we are all trying to do the very best we can for ourselves, with the tools that we have at the time.
You'll be amazed at what you can uncover when you start with that assumption.
Thursday, August 11, 2016
Wednesday, August 10, 2016
#SBC Day 2: "I owe nothing."
Everyone's got an excuse for everything.
Right?!?
That's like the number 1 principle in the fitness industry.
Otherwise, why would we have memes like this one:
Or this one:
Or this one?
And surely we all remember this one??
As a trainer and fitness professional, I hear talk about "excuses" a lot. I even talk to myself about them- "You've got this, Zita. No excuses." I'll tell myself, as I am prepping to lift my heaviest weight of the day. There's no two ways about it- in this industry, the belief is that if you aren't successful (read: perfect), it's because you are making excuses.
And it's not just fitness. We hear this same reasoning in virtually everything we do.
Stop making excuses and start doing.
If only it were that simple, right?
They say we've created a "culture of excuses".
That this is the root of all failed progress...
This morning, I woke up feeling like the weight of the world was crushing my chest.
Before even getting out of bed, I was in tears.
By the time I made it to the washroom, the tears had exploded into a full panic attack.
I spent the next 10 minutes on the bathroom floor, praying that my children wouldn't find me.
Why? Who knows. Maybe it's because I was up all night with sickness, likely from a gluten sensitivity that the world keeps insisting doesn't exist.
Or it could be something else.
Truth be told, it could be dozens of things that sent me over the edge. This month alone, I have lost a friend to domestic violence. I am working almost twice as much as I am used to because I am covering shifts for someone who lost a family member. I am completely swamped in the roughly 100 pages of projects that I have to turn in over the next 10 days. I am coping with a very real, very scary family crisis that is not ready for public disclosure. I had a fight with my best friend. I had a fight with my husband. My kids have been alternating insomnia-sleep patterns for weeks.
I'd just had enough. My body needed to release the tension. And so the volcano erupted and tears came.
I sat down to my social media account and wrote a long paragraph, something along the lines of "Dear friends, please don't take it personally if I am distant or unable to be a supportive resource for you over the next few weeks. I am drowning a bit, and while I will do my best, I need to take care of myself right now."
It wouldn't have been the first time I had written something like this. It wouldn't have been the first time this month.
Of course, it doesn't stop others from trying to take my time and pressure me into taking on more than I can.
But maybe they just don't understand. Maybe I just really need to explain to them...I just can't right now. I am overwhelmed. It is too much. I feel used, and disrespected, and pushed...I need space. I need to process. I need to focus on myself, just for a little while.
If I can just explain...
To me: an explanation.
But to others, an excuse?
What is the difference really?
Let's take a look at both those words, shall we?
Explanation:
Excuse: noun
Hmmm...funny. Those two definitions really aren't all that different at all. In fact, it appears that explanation is mostly just a euphemism for excuse. Or rather, excuse is a dysphemism for explanation- as it is implies that the explanation is being given in order to abdicate responsibility, or justify something 'bad'.
So really, whether something is an explanation or an excuse really comes down to how the person receiving the information wants to perceive it.
And that's when I realized it. Inadvertently, I was falling into the exact trap that I had written about yesterday.
I was about to give ownership of my own personal power to others, for no reason except that society says that I should.
You see, in both 'explanation' and 'excuse', there is an implication of accountability. That I owe someone an explanation for what I did or did not do.
"Why don't you work out more?
I work two jobs, am raising two kids, have mental health issues and can't afford a gym.
Everyone's got an excuse. If it was a priority, you'd find a way."
We've all heard something along those lines in our lives.
But here's the thing.
I don't owe you, or anyone else, anything.
Really. Unless I am parenting you, am married to you, or have some other binding agreement with you- I don't owe you anything.
Not my excuses.
Not my explanation.
I owe you nothing.
This is particularly true in matters that relate to my own body, my health- physical, emotional, mental- and well-being or my time,
I owe you nothing.
We are all operating under this false premise that we somehow need to account for our decisions when it comes to our bodies and our wellness. That we need justify, defend, or vindicate our choices.
Because we have been told that our bodies don't belong to us, that our time must be accounted for, that our actions must conform to standards that others dictate.
The world, not you, gets to decide if your night of watching netflix and eating junk food qualifies as 'rest' and 'self care' or 'lazy' and 'promoting unhealthy lifestyles' (hint: the answer tends to depend on how much fat your have on your body.)
When it demands explanations, or accuses you of excuses, the world is literally saying that you owe it your time, your energy, and your actions.
And you don't.
But the world can be one hell of a bully.
It demands answers; answers it has absolutely no right to demand.
And we cave. Because we have always been told we have to.
We offer explanations to try to minimize the guilt and the shame we feel over things we should not feel guilt or shame over.
The world says that they are excuses.
We are told that we are the reason for all of our failures. That if we only did more, worked hard, tried new things, dreamed bigger dreams, gave more of ourselves, took less for granted...that we would be happy.
We feel more shame. We feel more guilt. We promise to do better.
Sometimes we even say things like "I need someone to hold me accountable."
We exacerbate the problem.
And when we have nothing left to give...we fail.
Because the entire thing is a set up.
The human body and spirit can not possibly do everything we are demanding it to do.
It is literally impossible for everything in your life to be a priority.
So which will you choose?
Family?
Fitness?
Diet?
Work?
Friends?
Self-Care?
Sleep?
Regardless of what doesn't make the top of the list, you will hear the same line:
"There's no excuse. You just aren't making it a priority."
We literally can not win.
And in this process, we have become so alienated from our bodies and our right to self-determination that we feel the need to apologize for not seeing our friends, skipping the gym, for having a cookie, not reading to our kids every night, for not making [insert activity here] a priority.
And when we do so, we re-enforce to others and to ourselves that we are not 'empowered'
We confirm to others that they have the right to dictate to us how we allocate our time, our energy and our resources.
We perpetuate the vicious cycle that prevents us from truly caring for ourselves the way that we need to.
What's your excuse?
Nothing.
Aren't you going to explain yourself?
No.
You don't owe anyone an explanation.
You are not required to make excuses.
You can simply 'do'.
You do not require permission or forgiveness for how you live your life.
And when you begin to decide that...
When you begin to understand that only you can really determine what areas of your life require your immediate attention, and what things are worth you mental, physical and emotional energy...
When you begin to see that the whole thing is a lie; that no one can actually live up to the impossible standards that we are setting for ourselves; that everyone feels like a failure some of the time, but that you alone have the power to decide what makes you feel successful...
That's when you start to take control of the process.
That's when you start to do the things that motivate you, not because of some extrinsic sense of accountability, but because you are compelled by deep-seeded, intrinsic hopes, dreams and desires.
That's where magic happens.
So no, today I will not post an explanation for taking a step back from imagined responsibilities and focusing in on real ones.
Today, I will not apologize for sitting down for an hour and writing this post. And then sitting down for another two and writing my paper. And then working for five hours and earning money for my family.
And if I don't make it to the gym, so be it.
And if I don't manage eight hours of sleep, I'll live.
And if I don't get back to your texts today, you'll live.
If it's an emergency, call 911.
<3 Love, Zita.
Right?!?
That's like the number 1 principle in the fitness industry.
Otherwise, why would we have memes like this one:
Or this one:
Or this one?
And surely we all remember this one??
As a trainer and fitness professional, I hear talk about "excuses" a lot. I even talk to myself about them- "You've got this, Zita. No excuses." I'll tell myself, as I am prepping to lift my heaviest weight of the day. There's no two ways about it- in this industry, the belief is that if you aren't successful (read: perfect), it's because you are making excuses.
And it's not just fitness. We hear this same reasoning in virtually everything we do.
Stop making excuses and start doing.
If only it were that simple, right?
They say we've created a "culture of excuses".
That this is the root of all failed progress...
This morning, I woke up feeling like the weight of the world was crushing my chest.
Before even getting out of bed, I was in tears.
By the time I made it to the washroom, the tears had exploded into a full panic attack.
I spent the next 10 minutes on the bathroom floor, praying that my children wouldn't find me.
Why? Who knows. Maybe it's because I was up all night with sickness, likely from a gluten sensitivity that the world keeps insisting doesn't exist.
Or it could be something else.
Truth be told, it could be dozens of things that sent me over the edge. This month alone, I have lost a friend to domestic violence. I am working almost twice as much as I am used to because I am covering shifts for someone who lost a family member. I am completely swamped in the roughly 100 pages of projects that I have to turn in over the next 10 days. I am coping with a very real, very scary family crisis that is not ready for public disclosure. I had a fight with my best friend. I had a fight with my husband. My kids have been alternating insomnia-sleep patterns for weeks.
I'd just had enough. My body needed to release the tension. And so the volcano erupted and tears came.
I sat down to my social media account and wrote a long paragraph, something along the lines of "Dear friends, please don't take it personally if I am distant or unable to be a supportive resource for you over the next few weeks. I am drowning a bit, and while I will do my best, I need to take care of myself right now."
It wouldn't have been the first time I had written something like this. It wouldn't have been the first time this month.
Of course, it doesn't stop others from trying to take my time and pressure me into taking on more than I can.
But maybe they just don't understand. Maybe I just really need to explain to them...I just can't right now. I am overwhelmed. It is too much. I feel used, and disrespected, and pushed...I need space. I need to process. I need to focus on myself, just for a little while.
If I can just explain...
To me: an explanation.
But to others, an excuse?
What is the difference really?
Let's take a look at both those words, shall we?
Explanation:
noun
Excuse: noun
- 1.a reason or explanation put forward to defend or justify a fault or offense."there can be no possible excuse for any further delay"
synonyms: justification, defense, reason, explanation, mitigating circumstances, mitigation,vindication
"that's no excuse for stealing"
Hmmm...funny. Those two definitions really aren't all that different at all. In fact, it appears that explanation is mostly just a euphemism for excuse. Or rather, excuse is a dysphemism for explanation- as it is implies that the explanation is being given in order to abdicate responsibility, or justify something 'bad'.
So really, whether something is an explanation or an excuse really comes down to how the person receiving the information wants to perceive it.
And that's when I realized it. Inadvertently, I was falling into the exact trap that I had written about yesterday.
I was about to give ownership of my own personal power to others, for no reason except that society says that I should.
You see, in both 'explanation' and 'excuse', there is an implication of accountability. That I owe someone an explanation for what I did or did not do.
"Why don't you work out more?
I work two jobs, am raising two kids, have mental health issues and can't afford a gym.
Everyone's got an excuse. If it was a priority, you'd find a way."
We've all heard something along those lines in our lives.
But here's the thing.
I don't owe you, or anyone else, anything.
Really. Unless I am parenting you, am married to you, or have some other binding agreement with you- I don't owe you anything.
Not my excuses.
Not my explanation.
I owe you nothing.
This is particularly true in matters that relate to my own body, my health- physical, emotional, mental- and well-being or my time,
I owe you nothing.
We are all operating under this false premise that we somehow need to account for our decisions when it comes to our bodies and our wellness. That we need justify, defend, or vindicate our choices.
Because we have been told that our bodies don't belong to us, that our time must be accounted for, that our actions must conform to standards that others dictate.
The world, not you, gets to decide if your night of watching netflix and eating junk food qualifies as 'rest' and 'self care' or 'lazy' and 'promoting unhealthy lifestyles' (hint: the answer tends to depend on how much fat your have on your body.)
When it demands explanations, or accuses you of excuses, the world is literally saying that you owe it your time, your energy, and your actions.
And you don't.
But the world can be one hell of a bully.
It demands answers; answers it has absolutely no right to demand.
And we cave. Because we have always been told we have to.
We offer explanations to try to minimize the guilt and the shame we feel over things we should not feel guilt or shame over.
The world says that they are excuses.
We are told that we are the reason for all of our failures. That if we only did more, worked hard, tried new things, dreamed bigger dreams, gave more of ourselves, took less for granted...that we would be happy.
We feel more shame. We feel more guilt. We promise to do better.
Sometimes we even say things like "I need someone to hold me accountable."
We exacerbate the problem.
And when we have nothing left to give...we fail.
Because the entire thing is a set up.
The human body and spirit can not possibly do everything we are demanding it to do.
It is literally impossible for everything in your life to be a priority.
So which will you choose?
Family?
Fitness?
Diet?
Work?
Friends?
Self-Care?
Sleep?
Regardless of what doesn't make the top of the list, you will hear the same line:
"There's no excuse. You just aren't making it a priority."
We literally can not win.
And in this process, we have become so alienated from our bodies and our right to self-determination that we feel the need to apologize for not seeing our friends, skipping the gym, for having a cookie, not reading to our kids every night, for not making [insert activity here] a priority.
And when we do so, we re-enforce to others and to ourselves that we are not 'empowered'
We confirm to others that they have the right to dictate to us how we allocate our time, our energy and our resources.
We perpetuate the vicious cycle that prevents us from truly caring for ourselves the way that we need to.
What's your excuse?
Nothing.
Aren't you going to explain yourself?
No.
You don't owe anyone an explanation.
You are not required to make excuses.
You can simply 'do'.
You do not require permission or forgiveness for how you live your life.
And when you begin to decide that...
When you begin to understand that only you can really determine what areas of your life require your immediate attention, and what things are worth you mental, physical and emotional energy...
When you begin to see that the whole thing is a lie; that no one can actually live up to the impossible standards that we are setting for ourselves; that everyone feels like a failure some of the time, but that you alone have the power to decide what makes you feel successful...
That's when you start to take control of the process.
That's when you start to do the things that motivate you, not because of some extrinsic sense of accountability, but because you are compelled by deep-seeded, intrinsic hopes, dreams and desires.
That's where magic happens.
So no, today I will not post an explanation for taking a step back from imagined responsibilities and focusing in on real ones.
Today, I will not apologize for sitting down for an hour and writing this post. And then sitting down for another two and writing my paper. And then working for five hours and earning money for my family.
And if I don't make it to the gym, so be it.
And if I don't manage eight hours of sleep, I'll live.
And if I don't get back to your texts today, you'll live.
If it's an emergency, call 911.
<3 Love, Zita.
Tuesday, August 9, 2016
#SBC2016 Day 1: Excavating Wellness: Unearthing Your Potential
I remember the first time I watched Indiana Jones: The Last Crusade.
I was enthralled.
Truth be told, I was probably too young for it- it left me pretty scared of ghosts for many, many months. But it also quickly became one of my favourite movies of all time (not only because I developed my first crush on the main character.)
Indiana Jones was the first time I had ever been introduced to archaeology: the study of human history. Despite its over the top, glorified depictions, this film would ignite a passion for understanding how humanity evolved that would persist through my entire life.
I didn't pursue archaeology in school, mostly because, as a child, I was told that I couldn't science. This was partly true. I had an undiagnosed learning disorder that makes math and science particularly difficult subjects for me. But my lack of academic potential did nothing to extinguish the burning excitement I feel when I stumble upon an article like this one.
***
A few months ago, in our leadership studies class, I was asked to do an oral presentation on my personal leadership style.
I hate these kinds of projects. I find everyone always says the same thing. As part of the assignment, we had to listen to other people's projects and comment on them. Procrastinating making my own video for as long as I could, I decided to do that part before actually doing my own part. And I am glad that I did- because it inspired an 'aha' moment in myself that was truly unexpected.
In my group cohort of six students, each and everyone of the five- others at some point or another- made reference to wanting to empower people.
This made me inexplicably angry.
Who were these kids, all of them barely even 20 years old, to think that they could 'empower' me, or anyone else?
Why would they assume that, just because a person doesn't exercise or eat the way that they think that they should be eating, that they are somehow lacking in 'power'- so much so that they need to pay another individual to give it to them?
Why would they assume that, just because a person doesn't exercise or eat the way that they think that they should be eating, that they are somehow lacking in 'power'- so much so that they need to pay another individual to give it to them?
What do we even mean by 'empower' anyway? I mean, aside from being the catchiest of catch phrases... what does it mean??
Dictionary.com says:
Verb (used with object): 1. to give power or authority to; to authorize, especially by legal or official means. (...) 2. to enable or permit.
Dictionary.com says:
Verb (used with object): 1. to give power or authority to; to authorize, especially by legal or official means. (...) 2. to enable or permit.
Yeah- that super doesn't resonate with me. In fact, it goes against virtually everything I believe in as a person and as a trainer.
Here's the deal- you don't need me to empower you.
You. Are. Powerful.
You. Are. Powerful.
You already are. You always have been. You are so much more powerful than you know.
The world has spent a really, really long time (and an awful lot of money) trying to convince us that we lack authority, autonomy, the skills and knowledge to make our own decisions and life our own lives. We have been forced into restrictive social norms, shoved into tiny boxes and told that we need permission from others in order to escape these.
This is especially true when it comes to health and wellness. All the lies. All the scams. All the shame. All the nonsensical social norms.
Layer, over layer, over layer of the world convincing you are removed from your body and removed from your health; telling you, over and over again, that everything you do, have done, or are going to do, is wrong.
Doing its best to disempower you. And then convincing you that it has all the tools needed to give you that power back, if you just 'buy this magic potion' or 'eat clean' or 'lift heavy' or whatever the catch phrase of the day happens to be.
It's clever marketing, no doubt. And it has been pretty damn effective...at the tune of 24 Billion US, the fitness/wellness industry is one of the few that is actually seeing significant increases year over year over year.
And yet, they keep telling us that we are unhealthier than ever...but how can that be?
It's pretty simple- for the most part, the fitness industry doesn't actually want you to get fit. Not unless you do it through them, and are fully dependent on them to keep you there.
It's pretty simple- for the most part, the fitness industry doesn't actually want you to get fit. Not unless you do it through them, and are fully dependent on them to keep you there.
Like it or not, the vast majority in fitness and wellness depends on the fact that you will fail...and then try again.
And they do it under the guise of "empowerment".
But to sell you 'empowerment', they first have to sell you on the fact that you are currently powerless.
And I don't buy it.
You aren't powerless over your body. It's your own damn body! It belongs to you. And you have the power to do with it what you damn well please.
But that power...its been buried. All those lies, all that crap, all the layers of self-loathing and insecurity that were spread on you have- over time- has petrified around it, trapping it into stone.
Your power is there, inside you. But you may need some help and some extra tools to release it.
But for that, the very first step is understanding that no one has control over this process except you.
You are already empowered.
***
As I sat down to film my video, I knew that I wanted to get one key point across.
What is my leadership style? Self discovery.
I see myself as a bit of an archaeologist of strength and power. I help people chisel away at all the layers of self-doubt and insecurity that have gathered and ossified over the years. I help people discover their inner power by equipping them with knowledge, skills and confidence, but- most importantly- by constantly reminding them that they have all the power they need inside them to dictate the course their lives will take.
I won't drive your car for you and I won't sit behind you, like some obnoxious back seat driver, and tell you exactly what to do every time you get behind the wheel. But I will tell you how a car works, explain the rules of the road, support you as you learn new skills and- when you're ready- help you feel confident that you are able to drive on your own.
One day, you will drive without me. And that's a good thing. In fact, that's kind of the point.
So no, I don't want to empower people- I don't believe I have the authority to do so.
But I can help guide the process of self-discovery.
So for the next month, I'm donning my virtual fedora, channeling my inner-Indiana and taking you on a journey of self-excavation, exploring what it means to unearth your action potential.
Welcome to the 2016 Shamefree Wellness Summer Blog Challenge!
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| Excavating Wellness: Unearthing Your Potential |
#sbc2016 #escavatingwellness #actionpotentialfitness #shamefreewellness
2016 Summer Blog Challenge
Well, here we are. My sixth edition of the summer blog challenge, starting with my annual introductory post.
I was going to skip this year- what with work and school and kids and stress and life...I told myself that I really didn't have time to take on this project this year.
Kind of like I used to tell myself that I didn't have time to eat properly...
Or how I used to say that I didn't have time to work out...
Or how I once believed that I didn't have enough time left in my life to make any life changes worth making...
I've used the 'time' line before. It's not my first time at this rodeo.
And trust me when I say that it's true. I don't have free time. I haven't had free time in a very long time. I don't really have pockets of open space that allow me to just toss in a new project on a whim.
My time is like a big chunk of rock. If I want to do something amazing with it, I'm going to need to sculpt it out- chisel and all. It's not always an easy process. But the result is always worth it.
Writing, for me, is therapeutic. I write because I have too many thoughts in my INTJ brain and I need to get them out.
I write because if I didn't write, I'd have to talk- and those who know me know that I already do enough of that.
I write because it is the only time that I find to have real, deep conversations with myself about the world. When I don't write, it is so easy to ignore my inner voice, to forget to check in with my spirit, to go through the motions of life instead of creating it.
So, no- I don't have time to write. And yet, here I am- with five assignments looming- writing about writing.
Because writing makes me feel connected. And lately, I haven't been feeling a lot of that.
In fact, I've been feeling pretty damn isolated, and pretty damn disconnected.
And that's not a great feeling.
So, today I sit down to write. I will not watch that next episode of Girlfriend's Guide on shomi. I will probably not get my laundry put away. It is entirely possible that I will be up until 12am working on school work.
Because this is the missing piece in my journey to self-care and self-balance...
I find time to serve my muscles at the gym.
I generally find time to serve my heart on the studio floor.
I often find time to serve my stomach with proper food.
I am serving my brain with school...in fact, this month, I'm unconvinced that my brain doesn't need to go on a diet.
I serve my family, my friends, my employers, my community...
That doesn't leave much time, it's true. But it leaves me enough time to serve my soul.
And if it doesn't, then I will take this boulder I call my life, and start to chisel at it...
I've done it before, and I can do it.
I am my life's sculptor. I reserve the write to carve out my time as I need to in order to thrive...
Which leads me to this year's theme: Excavating Wellness- Unearthing Your Potential.
But more on that in the next post!
<3 Zita
#sbc2016 #ExcavatingWellness #shamefreewellness #actionpotentialfitness
I was going to skip this year- what with work and school and kids and stress and life...I told myself that I really didn't have time to take on this project this year.
Kind of like I used to tell myself that I didn't have time to eat properly...
Or how I used to say that I didn't have time to work out...
Or how I once believed that I didn't have enough time left in my life to make any life changes worth making...
I've used the 'time' line before. It's not my first time at this rodeo.
And trust me when I say that it's true. I don't have free time. I haven't had free time in a very long time. I don't really have pockets of open space that allow me to just toss in a new project on a whim.
My time is like a big chunk of rock. If I want to do something amazing with it, I'm going to need to sculpt it out- chisel and all. It's not always an easy process. But the result is always worth it.
Writing, for me, is therapeutic. I write because I have too many thoughts in my INTJ brain and I need to get them out.
I write because if I didn't write, I'd have to talk- and those who know me know that I already do enough of that.
I write because it is the only time that I find to have real, deep conversations with myself about the world. When I don't write, it is so easy to ignore my inner voice, to forget to check in with my spirit, to go through the motions of life instead of creating it.
So, no- I don't have time to write. And yet, here I am- with five assignments looming- writing about writing.
Because writing makes me feel connected. And lately, I haven't been feeling a lot of that.
In fact, I've been feeling pretty damn isolated, and pretty damn disconnected.
And that's not a great feeling.
So, today I sit down to write. I will not watch that next episode of Girlfriend's Guide on shomi. I will probably not get my laundry put away. It is entirely possible that I will be up until 12am working on school work.
Because this is the missing piece in my journey to self-care and self-balance...
I find time to serve my muscles at the gym.
I generally find time to serve my heart on the studio floor.
I often find time to serve my stomach with proper food.
I am serving my brain with school...in fact, this month, I'm unconvinced that my brain doesn't need to go on a diet.
I serve my family, my friends, my employers, my community...
That doesn't leave much time, it's true. But it leaves me enough time to serve my soul.
And if it doesn't, then I will take this boulder I call my life, and start to chisel at it...
I've done it before, and I can do it.
I am my life's sculptor. I reserve the write to carve out my time as I need to in order to thrive...
Which leads me to this year's theme: Excavating Wellness- Unearthing Your Potential.
But more on that in the next post!
<3 Zita
#sbc2016 #ExcavatingWellness #shamefreewellness #actionpotentialfitness
Friday, July 8, 2016
Do you see what I see?
Today, I received the pro photographs from the 70.3 mile (114km) triathlon I ran over the weekend.
2 km swim. 90km bike. 22 km run.
Photos, or it didn't happen.
I was excited to see them- and yet, not.
Because I knew what I would see. The same thing I always see when I see pictures of myself.
A body- my body- in a sport where it doesn't belong.
A body- my body- still seen through the lens of body size.
A body- my body- forever ugly, forever rejected, forever hated.
A body- my body- forever fat.
I haven't written about my body dysmorphia for a while, mostly because I was told by a fat friend that I really had no place in conversations about fat bodies anymore. My body, as it is seen by others, no longer qualifies as 'fat' enough. I now have to accept my place in a world of thin privilege. I now have to leave the conversation to those who are currently living it.
I get that. I really do.
It's complicated, but I get why someone would feel this way.
After all, I'm now- inadvertently, and through no fault of my own- part of the problem.
In my transformation of health and fitness, I have managed to do the improbable: significantly reduce my body mass by an amount that could probably qualify me for a reality show. 100lbs. That's more weight than my 6 year old and 3 year old combined. It's about 5 times more than my bike weighs...
No doubt about it, my body has 'transformed'.
And, in that transformation, I have- intentionally or not- taken my place in culture where 'smaller is better', 'fat=bad', and 'weight loss should be your goal'.
I'm the poster girl for lifestyle changes, right?
I can see it now: "Fat, Sedentary mother of two discovers exercise, loses 100 lbs and transforms her life"
Sure, they'd mention my triathlon...as a byline along the way. But the real story would be the weight loss.
Here's the catch though- they'd still photoshop me thinner.
And they sure wouldn't want to show you the skin that I literally have to tuck into my clothes.
I mean, really...I do my best to not show you that either.
No one wants to see that...
And somehow, in all of this, I became a cliche.
I didn't mean to do this. I promise you. But I understand that it doesn't really matter if I meant to or not. My body, and its renovation, will trigger a lot of really big feelings for a lot of people.
I get it. I know how other people's bodies used to affect me. And I know how they affect me now.
(Confession time: I am jealous of your 'real' triathlete body. I want to look like a 'real' triathlete. But I have this skin...)
I wish it weren't so. I wish we weren't so deeply conditioned as to define ourselves as successes or failures based the size of our own waist line, let alone that of another person's.
But we are all social animals, and we are all subject to the social constructs that surround us.
"You must be so much happier now" they tell me.
(No one asks. They always tell.)
And what am I supposed to say? It's a complex question with a complex answer.
I can't lie and say that I am not happier than I was two years ago. But how do I explain that this happiness has literally zero root in my body's actual size? And why bother?
(No one ever believes me anyway.)
"Of course you are! How couldn't you be? Look at you!"
Look at me... Look at me...?
Do you not understand that what you see and what I see are different things?
Do you not understand that you see what you want to see?
That I see only what I am terrified of seeing?
I do an awful lot of 'looking at me'.
Trust me, it doesn't help.
But they tell me that I am happier. And in some ways they are right.
That's probably the worst part. They are right.
Am I happier now?
Yes.
I am.
I am ashamed to admit it, but it is true.
But did the weight loss bring me happiness?
No.
Not necessarily.
Not directly.
It did reduce the amount of stigma, othering, judgment and personal attacks that I lived with on a daily basis. I am no longer afraid of walking down the street and having strange men shout about the size of my 'fat ass'.
I've traded that in for strange men shouting about the 'the ass they like to tap'.
Either way, the shouts suck. But, it's true; the first type kind of sucks more.
So am I happier now that I am not under constant attack for the amount of adipose tissue that has collected my frame?
Sure.
Not being abuse tends to always trump being abused.
Being slapped is less painful than being stabbed.
But that doesn't mean that getting slapped feels good.
You see, the problem is that my body's actual size isn't really the determining factor in my happiness quotient. My mass doesn't directly cause changes, positive or negative, to my emotional wellbeing.
(Correlation isn't causation.)
Am I happier? Sure. The same way I would be happy if someone who was trying to drown me let me get a gasp of air.
I'm a solid swimmer.
The water was never the problem.
The hand on top of my head pressing me down is the problem.
(The weight was never the problem.
Society's assumptions about me were the problem.)
The ugly truth is this: Weight loss literally can't make me happier. Because, in my eyes, my body has not changed. When I wake up in the morning, I literally see the exact same frame.
The only difference now is that I used to try not to think about it.
And now, I can't stop thinking about it.
Because it doesn't matter how small you are, society doesn't let you ever forget that you are defined by the size of your frame.
"Fat Ass" or "Tappable Ass"- at the end of the day, you are seen as nothing more that a body.
And try as you might to fight it, sometimes you have to admit that you play into this game too.
The one thing that I was terrified of defining me has literally become how I define myself.
Back when I had a fat body, I did my best to avoid it.
And as long as I didn't think about it, I was pretty happy with it.
In fact, I hardly thought about it all.
And I was pretty happy with myself.
Now, things are different.
I spend hours criticizing every picture.
Feeling like a fraud inside a body and lifestyle that I don't recognize.
Terrified the weight will creep back.
Hoping that the weight will creep back.
Terror at knowing how I will be perceived...
Hopeful at the idea of feeling at home in my skin again.
I wanted a triathlete's body.
So I went out and became a triathlete.
But when I see these pictures, all I see is a fat body, desperately trying to outrace a world that is doing its best to catch up and tear her back down to reality.
What I see is a fraud.
A big fat fraud.
And that's the last thing I wanted to see.
Body Dysmorphia. It's a thing. And we need to start talking about it.
Because I know I can't be alone in this.
(God, I hope I am not alone in this.)
I had really hoped this race would heal me.
I had hoped to finally get to see me through different eyes.
I guess I have a lot of work to do before I actually reach the finish line.
2 km swim. 90km bike. 22 km run.
Photos, or it didn't happen.
I was excited to see them- and yet, not.
Because I knew what I would see. The same thing I always see when I see pictures of myself.
A body- my body- in a sport where it doesn't belong.
A body- my body- still seen through the lens of body size.
A body- my body- forever ugly, forever rejected, forever hated.
A body- my body- forever fat.
I haven't written about my body dysmorphia for a while, mostly because I was told by a fat friend that I really had no place in conversations about fat bodies anymore. My body, as it is seen by others, no longer qualifies as 'fat' enough. I now have to accept my place in a world of thin privilege. I now have to leave the conversation to those who are currently living it.
I get that. I really do.
It's complicated, but I get why someone would feel this way.
After all, I'm now- inadvertently, and through no fault of my own- part of the problem.
In my transformation of health and fitness, I have managed to do the improbable: significantly reduce my body mass by an amount that could probably qualify me for a reality show. 100lbs. That's more weight than my 6 year old and 3 year old combined. It's about 5 times more than my bike weighs...
No doubt about it, my body has 'transformed'.
And, in that transformation, I have- intentionally or not- taken my place in culture where 'smaller is better', 'fat=bad', and 'weight loss should be your goal'.
I'm the poster girl for lifestyle changes, right?
I can see it now: "Fat, Sedentary mother of two discovers exercise, loses 100 lbs and transforms her life"
Sure, they'd mention my triathlon...as a byline along the way. But the real story would be the weight loss.
Here's the catch though- they'd still photoshop me thinner.
And they sure wouldn't want to show you the skin that I literally have to tuck into my clothes.
I mean, really...I do my best to not show you that either.
No one wants to see that...
And somehow, in all of this, I became a cliche.
I didn't mean to do this. I promise you. But I understand that it doesn't really matter if I meant to or not. My body, and its renovation, will trigger a lot of really big feelings for a lot of people.
I get it. I know how other people's bodies used to affect me. And I know how they affect me now.
(Confession time: I am jealous of your 'real' triathlete body. I want to look like a 'real' triathlete. But I have this skin...)
I wish it weren't so. I wish we weren't so deeply conditioned as to define ourselves as successes or failures based the size of our own waist line, let alone that of another person's.
But we are all social animals, and we are all subject to the social constructs that surround us.
"You must be so much happier now" they tell me.
(No one asks. They always tell.)
And what am I supposed to say? It's a complex question with a complex answer.
I can't lie and say that I am not happier than I was two years ago. But how do I explain that this happiness has literally zero root in my body's actual size? And why bother?
(No one ever believes me anyway.)
"Of course you are! How couldn't you be? Look at you!"
Look at me... Look at me...?
Do you not understand that what you see and what I see are different things?
Do you not understand that you see what you want to see?
That I see only what I am terrified of seeing?
I do an awful lot of 'looking at me'.
Trust me, it doesn't help.
But they tell me that I am happier. And in some ways they are right.
That's probably the worst part. They are right.
Am I happier now?
Yes.
I am.
I am ashamed to admit it, but it is true.
But did the weight loss bring me happiness?
No.
Not necessarily.
Not directly.
It did reduce the amount of stigma, othering, judgment and personal attacks that I lived with on a daily basis. I am no longer afraid of walking down the street and having strange men shout about the size of my 'fat ass'.
I've traded that in for strange men shouting about the 'the ass they like to tap'.
Either way, the shouts suck. But, it's true; the first type kind of sucks more.
So am I happier now that I am not under constant attack for the amount of adipose tissue that has collected my frame?
Sure.
Not being abuse tends to always trump being abused.
Being slapped is less painful than being stabbed.
But that doesn't mean that getting slapped feels good.
You see, the problem is that my body's actual size isn't really the determining factor in my happiness quotient. My mass doesn't directly cause changes, positive or negative, to my emotional wellbeing.
(Correlation isn't causation.)
Am I happier? Sure. The same way I would be happy if someone who was trying to drown me let me get a gasp of air.
I'm a solid swimmer.
The water was never the problem.
The hand on top of my head pressing me down is the problem.
(The weight was never the problem.
Society's assumptions about me were the problem.)
The ugly truth is this: Weight loss literally can't make me happier. Because, in my eyes, my body has not changed. When I wake up in the morning, I literally see the exact same frame.
The only difference now is that I used to try not to think about it.
And now, I can't stop thinking about it.
Because it doesn't matter how small you are, society doesn't let you ever forget that you are defined by the size of your frame.
"Fat Ass" or "Tappable Ass"- at the end of the day, you are seen as nothing more that a body.
And try as you might to fight it, sometimes you have to admit that you play into this game too.
The one thing that I was terrified of defining me has literally become how I define myself.
Back when I had a fat body, I did my best to avoid it.
And as long as I didn't think about it, I was pretty happy with it.
In fact, I hardly thought about it all.
And I was pretty happy with myself.
Now, things are different.
I spend hours criticizing every picture.
Feeling like a fraud inside a body and lifestyle that I don't recognize.
Terrified the weight will creep back.
Hoping that the weight will creep back.
Terror at knowing how I will be perceived...
Hopeful at the idea of feeling at home in my skin again.
I wanted a triathlete's body.
So I went out and became a triathlete.
But when I see these pictures, all I see is a fat body, desperately trying to outrace a world that is doing its best to catch up and tear her back down to reality.
What I see is a fraud.
A big fat fraud.
And that's the last thing I wanted to see.
Body Dysmorphia. It's a thing. And we need to start talking about it.
Because I know I can't be alone in this.
(God, I hope I am not alone in this.)
I had really hoped this race would heal me.
I had hoped to finally get to see me through different eyes.
I guess I have a lot of work to do before I actually reach the finish line.
Tuesday, July 5, 2016
GWN2016 #teamZita96 Summary
This weekend, I completed my first triathlon. At 70.3 miles (114 km), I didn't cut myself any slack in choosing my first race. Was this a mistake? Well- we'll talk about that a little later. But when push comes to shove, I did it. I took on the challenge, I trained for it as effectively as I could, and I pushed through to the finish line. And I did it all while working/participating in a practicum, raising two young children and attending school full time.
And to that end, I am very proud.
Very tired, but very proud.
This post is just a summary of the event itself. I will do more that actually talk about my takeaways from the experience.
2 KM Swim: 41.26.9
This was not a great time for me. I expected to finish the swim in closer to 35 minutes. In my defense, my goggles got snatched off my face during the run-in, and tore the nose strap, so I swam the whole thing blind. I also stopped to help a struggling swimmer grab a boat, and checked in on many others along the way. Lifeguard Zita was in full "Oh my God this is so dangerous" mode, not race mode...
Surprises in the swim: People are *really* aggressive in the water. This was tough for me, because being grabbed at, particularly in the leg and hip area, is a serious PTSD trigger for me. I would pick my start placement very differently next time, knowing that I would be in the faster top third than the slower one. This would have saved me a fair amount of aggravation in terms of trying to get through the weaker swimmers, and probably would have shaved those five minutes off my time.
Goal for next year: 00:35:59.9 minutes or less.
Transition 1: 00: 07:29.4I had heard mumblings about these 'transition' things, and how they are black holes of time eaters, destroying your momentum and blocking your PRs along the way...but I'd never really believed them. Surely it couldn't be that complicated to get out of swim gear and into bike gear? I get dressed after showering every day...right?
Wrong. Transition 1 is no joke, kids. Getting out of a wetsuit, even with assistance, is a freaking pain- especially when you have an ankle bracelet you have to get back on you.
And then there is trying to get dry socks onto your still wet, dirty feet! Sunscreen, bike gear...the works. T1 is intense. And I lost about 80% of my time struggling with compression socks because I thought I'd be clever and wear my run socks during the cycle. Ha! Not clever at all. In fact, most of the elite level athletes didn't seem to be wearing socks at all. Some didn't even tie up their shoes. Apparently I have a lot to learn about how to navigate a successful transition. This one cost me a LOT of unnecessary time.
Goal for next year: 00:03:59.9
90 KM Bike: 3:17:37.6
Ok, so this is the epic victory of my day. In fact, this bike ride might be one of the crowning achievements of my life, so you are getting the full back story. If you aren't interested in it, skip right to the race section. :)
"Training" Season...or lack thereof
Let me be crystal clear: It is a terrible idea to decide to do a 70.3 mile triathlon if you don't know how to ride a bike.
It is not only arrogant (very arrogant), but foolish and dangerous. Kids, do not try this one at home. For real.
When I signed up for this race, I had not been on a bike more than a handful of times in over 15 years. I had never ridden a road bike. I had only ridden once on a highway (from my hometown of Falher, to Donnelly Corner gas station, roughly 7km away, and back) when I was about 12 or 13.
I had absolutely no idea what I was getting myself into.
Jason bought me my tri-bike as a Christmas gift. A 2015 Felt Ultegra 11 Speed beauty. I love my bike. It is lighter than most six month babies (8kg), and riding it literally feels like flying. I quickly discovered that I love everything about cycling, and I suspect that it is going to become my primary sport very quickly.
But a new cyclist shouldn't cycle alone- at least not without an emergency plan. This, plus really unpredictable weather, greatly limited my training opportunities. In the six months since we bought my bike, I have only been able to ride it 9 times (race day included).
And almost every time I did get out on it, I got a flat tire. I wish I was exagerrating, but my bike has now had flats changed by five different people, including Canadian IM Champion Jasper Blake (who was incredibly kind to me, despite my ignorance...) and two professional bike mechanics. So it wasn't a lack of skill at changing the tires. I truly started to believe that my bike was cursed.
Compound this with an extremely gruelling anxiety disorder and catastrophic thinking pattern, and the result is...well...predictable. The fear of getting a flat was paralyzing, and kept me home on plenty of beautiful afternoons when I should have been clocking miles. There were many days where I had plenty of time, but no one to come and get me if something went wrong.
Now, I get it. You're all asking yourselves why I wouldn't just learn to change a tire so I wouldn't have to worry about it. Well, for the same reason that I still can't program the clock in my car or do basic maintenance work on my car. I have a learning disorder that greatly impacts my ability to process mechanical information. My brain can't handle directional concepts. I have no visual spatial comprehension, and I can't follow instructions unless they are written down and crystal clear. So learning to change a flat was no small feat. It took me four different people showing me how to do it, several hours watching youtube videos, and an entire evening (two days before the race) dedicated to practicing it.
But I can do it myself now, and I might actually be prouder of that fact than I am of my entire race.
Dry Land Training: Learning to 'cycle' off bike
Now, those who know me know that I am a disciplined student of the human body. I know that, in order to perform, the body must be trained. I knew this as an opera singer. I knew it as a swimmer. I know it as a personal trainer. One does not just jump into a sport and expect to perform well without training for it. I knew that I would have a very uphill battle when it came to cycling.
But I had this great bike I couldn't ride. So what is one to do?
Hit the books.
I did a lot of research on cycling mechanics, and began to train my body specifically to perform on the bike. My resistance training program was designed around building my cycling muscles. I learned about zone training, and used a spin bike to practice in both high intensity and low intensity settings. I performed 2-hour long rides at +85% of HRMax the entire time, and developed stronger heart and lung muscles than I ever dreamt possible. I built my core muscles and worked extensively on balance and core work to help give me the stability I would need once I hit the road.
I spent more time 'learning to ride' off my bike than many people spend on their bikes. And while it is an imperfect strategy, it paid off. I did not become a proficient cyclist- the fact is that you just have to get on your bike and ride in order to do that.
But I did become a very, very strong one. And I mean that literally. My cycling muscles are killer strong. And that's what got me through on race day.
Race Day: Come hell or high water...
Those 3 hours and 17 minutes on the bike were some of the greatest moments I have ever lived. Don't get me wrong. It was *hard*. So, so hard. And so damn awesome.
First of all- no flats. I saw many other people get flats, but somehow I got spared (ha!). But the time that I spent learning how to change a tire was definitely not in vain- it eased the anxiety a lot and let me focus in on the actual task at hand: peddling my damn feet and putting those muscles into action.
Based on my training, I had hoped to hold my own at a pace of 23-25km an hour, with a goal of doing the full 90km distane in less than 4 hours. That seemed reasonable to expect for a newish rider. I surprised myself when I was holding my own at 28-30km an hour- still not super duper fast, but- again- I'd only been on this bike 9 times, and I'd just done my first swim/T1 ever.
GWN is a relatively flat terrain, which actually kind of worked against me. I am super strong on hills. This might be because I didn't know that I had a whole set of lighter gears, specifically designed for hills. When Jasper explained this to me at training camp, he kind of broke my brain. I truly had believed that I had to do hills on the hardest gear, not the easiest. So I had spent months training that way.
I had most of my major gains on other cyclists on the hills- to the dismay of some, who commented on my "sheer strength" as I rode past them.
But they always flew right past me on the downhill sections. FYI, for those who have never done it, going +40km/h down a hill is scary. I did a lot of riding my brakes, costing me a fair amount of momentum, time and energy.
The first 60km were smooth as silk. Seriously- cycling feels like flying. Except for your butt. Your butt is very, very aware that it is absolutely not flying. But still, I felt strong, powerful and was holding my own against some much, much more experienced cyclists.
And then the wind came, and with it came the rain and hail.
The storm that we had been hoping would hold off until the end of the day was rolling in quickly. I had never ridden in poor weather before. The instability of it was shocking. I was able to hold steady, but it required me to dramatically change my riding approach, especially on the hills.
Fortunately, the rain and hail didn't last long.
Unfortunately, they lasted long enough to seriously derail me. Somehow, a hailstone got in through my sunglasses and lodged itself in my eye. The pain was excruciating. And, like the rookie that I am, my hand leapt up to protect my face...and that's when I crashed.
"Crashed" might be overstating it a little.
It's when I slid.
Very quickly.
Into the ditch.
Now, for those of you unfamiliar with racing bikes, my bike doesn't really have the same kind of pedals as your run of the mill mountain bike does. They are specialized, and you were fancy shoes that clip into them. It's odd at first, but amazing once you get used to it.
Unless, of course, you are still clipped into them while lying on the ground, in the rain, with your bike on top of you.
Five cyclists raced past me without saying a word. Honestly, I imagine that they were probably as frightened as I was of the worsening conditions and couldn't afford to stop. But the 6th cyclist, a nice young man, stopped and offered assistance. We got me unclipped, and get back on our bikes.
(I never got his name. I forgot his race number. But, Whoever you are, thank you from the bottom of my heart.)
Within a few minutes, I was back up on my bike and racing onward. It took a few minutes for my body to register the searing pain in my knee. It didn't take much of my anatomy knowledge to figure out that I had sprained my ACL. :(
I made the decision at that point to finish my bike ride and call it a day. I had to get back into the town either way, and the skies were starting to clear up. But the pain was exhausting and it took everything I had to make it to T2.
Goal for next year: Try not to crash my bike. Try not to injure my body. Aim for under 3:00:00. Actually ride my bike as often as humanly possible. Learn how to change the back tire.
Transition 2: 00:05:59.7
Ok, so remember how I said that I was going to be done my race when I got to T2. Yeah- I meant that. I really did. I was in a lot of pain, and I firmly disagree with 'pushing through' when you have an injury. Pain is often the body's way of telling you that there is a problem. Ignoring that problem, even in the short term, can have catastrophic effects.
But then, I have only ever done three races before this one (5km, 10km, 1/2 marathon), and I am starting to wonder if running through pain during races is simply inevitable when you start to race more frequently. So that's a topic I will need to research a little more.
So, yeah- I was about ready to call it in when I got to the dismount line, which is where I assumed we were supposed to cross before dismounting our bikes (which, you know, would make sense given the chalk line that said "Dismount here"...)
But I have anxiety. Really bad anxiety. Anxiety that is compounded by stress and social situations.
And it turns out I had misinterpreted the meaning of that line. Turns out 'Dismount here' actually means "If you haven't gotten off your bike by this line, Angry Alberta Triathlon Official is going to start yelling in your face until you get off your bike..."
Huh. Definitely didn't see that one coming.
So she yelled. And yelled. And I panicked, and got off my bike as quickly as I could (which was not quickly at all with a knee that didn't want to bend...) and hobbled my way to T2. Once there, I was so scared that she would yell at me again that I didn't even stop to think. I just started getting changed. Also, Jason was there, filming me and I knew that dozens of my friends would see me quit if I walked away. So I dug deep, put my runners on and went out for my run.
Goal for next year: If I can cut this one down, great. But honestly, just making it past T2 was a victory for me. So my goal next year is to make it to T2 feeling strong and ready for the run, instead of crying and terrified of how terrible the next three hours were going to be...
Run: 02:30:23.2
I keep coming back to this number, because I am convinced that it was a mistake. There is no way that this run only took me 2.5 hours. I swear to God, these were the longest hours of my life...and I have lived some long hours in my life.
The run hurt. It just hurt. It hurts to think about it.
It hurt because I was injured. It hurt because it was hot. It hurt because I was under hydrated, under nourished, under prepared for the mental exercise.
But mostly, it hurts because I was under trained.
And I need to admit that myself, and to the world. I was not trained for this run. I focused almost all my energy on the bike portion, and only did one run that was over 10km in my entire training season. There are several reasons for this, and none of them are particularly good ones. I was very busy. Life interfered with long run days. I could only do so much, so often, so intensely...I was burned out....
And the truth is that all of these reasons are 100% true, and 100% valid. But they still don't add up to being prepared and well trained. They might explain why I wasn't, but they don't actually do much more than that.
When push comes to shove, I went into this race knowing full well that I had robbed myself of the opportunity to perform well on the run and that I had no one to blame for that but myself.
Now, 2.5 hours for a half really isn't that terrible. It's actually a great time for many runners. But it isn't a time that is consistent with my own performance standards. And it isn't a time that reflects what my body can do.
So, now I spend the summer training my run again. I have another half marathon in September (Canmore, Rocky Mountain Half) that I would like to take under 2 hours. It's a nice run, but lots of hill trails and not a particularly easy terrain. It will take me solid work if I am going to meet that goal. Looks like I have some work ahead of me.
As for #GWN2017:
Goal for next year: 02:14:59.9
Total time: 06:42:57.1
Not too shabby for my first ever triathlon. Lots of learning moments. Lots of digging deep and pushing through.
But it is definitely a time that I look forward to beating next year.
Goal for next year: 06:29:59.9
And with that, I guess I will address the elephant in the room- the question that everyone has asked me since I crossed the line: FULL IRONMAN NEXT YEAR?!?!
The answer here is pretty clear to me: No. Not next year. At some point, yes. But not next year.
I have young children. I have a new career. I still have school for another six months. I have husband that I miss, and family and friends and neglected housework.
Will I do a full 140.3? Yes. I imagine that I will someday. But for now, I want to really let the major lesson of this adventure sink in: The journey isn't about the race itself. Pushing yourself to always go further and longer and harder is all well and good, but it isn't if costs you the pleasure and enjoyment of simply loving what you are doing.
Goals are important. They really are. Set goals that are ambitious. Push yourself to the limits. Reach your full potential. Be daring, take risks, be brave...do all those things.
But you don't have to do them all at once. And when you try, you sometimes wind up missing the little things that make the journey worthwhile.
Next year, I will learn how to really ride my bike. I will learn how to excel at my run, both in improving my mechanics and my actual training technique. I will do more open water swimming because it is my favourite thing in the world. I will savour every training session and remember that the real clock that I am racing against is the one that is ticking by the remaining seconds of my life. I will try to make every one of those seconds count.
In the great race of life, we all reach the same finish line. It's not when you get there that matters; it's the how you got there that defines how you'll be remembered.
Goal for next year: 00:03:59.9
90 KM Bike: 3:17:37.6
Ok, so this is the epic victory of my day. In fact, this bike ride might be one of the crowning achievements of my life, so you are getting the full back story. If you aren't interested in it, skip right to the race section. :)
"Training" Season...or lack thereof
Let me be crystal clear: It is a terrible idea to decide to do a 70.3 mile triathlon if you don't know how to ride a bike.
It is not only arrogant (very arrogant), but foolish and dangerous. Kids, do not try this one at home. For real.
When I signed up for this race, I had not been on a bike more than a handful of times in over 15 years. I had never ridden a road bike. I had only ridden once on a highway (from my hometown of Falher, to Donnelly Corner gas station, roughly 7km away, and back) when I was about 12 or 13.
I had absolutely no idea what I was getting myself into.
Jason bought me my tri-bike as a Christmas gift. A 2015 Felt Ultegra 11 Speed beauty. I love my bike. It is lighter than most six month babies (8kg), and riding it literally feels like flying. I quickly discovered that I love everything about cycling, and I suspect that it is going to become my primary sport very quickly.
But a new cyclist shouldn't cycle alone- at least not without an emergency plan. This, plus really unpredictable weather, greatly limited my training opportunities. In the six months since we bought my bike, I have only been able to ride it 9 times (race day included).
And almost every time I did get out on it, I got a flat tire. I wish I was exagerrating, but my bike has now had flats changed by five different people, including Canadian IM Champion Jasper Blake (who was incredibly kind to me, despite my ignorance...) and two professional bike mechanics. So it wasn't a lack of skill at changing the tires. I truly started to believe that my bike was cursed.
Compound this with an extremely gruelling anxiety disorder and catastrophic thinking pattern, and the result is...well...predictable. The fear of getting a flat was paralyzing, and kept me home on plenty of beautiful afternoons when I should have been clocking miles. There were many days where I had plenty of time, but no one to come and get me if something went wrong.
Now, I get it. You're all asking yourselves why I wouldn't just learn to change a tire so I wouldn't have to worry about it. Well, for the same reason that I still can't program the clock in my car or do basic maintenance work on my car. I have a learning disorder that greatly impacts my ability to process mechanical information. My brain can't handle directional concepts. I have no visual spatial comprehension, and I can't follow instructions unless they are written down and crystal clear. So learning to change a flat was no small feat. It took me four different people showing me how to do it, several hours watching youtube videos, and an entire evening (two days before the race) dedicated to practicing it.
But I can do it myself now, and I might actually be prouder of that fact than I am of my entire race.
Dry Land Training: Learning to 'cycle' off bike
Now, those who know me know that I am a disciplined student of the human body. I know that, in order to perform, the body must be trained. I knew this as an opera singer. I knew it as a swimmer. I know it as a personal trainer. One does not just jump into a sport and expect to perform well without training for it. I knew that I would have a very uphill battle when it came to cycling.
But I had this great bike I couldn't ride. So what is one to do?
Hit the books.
I did a lot of research on cycling mechanics, and began to train my body specifically to perform on the bike. My resistance training program was designed around building my cycling muscles. I learned about zone training, and used a spin bike to practice in both high intensity and low intensity settings. I performed 2-hour long rides at +85% of HRMax the entire time, and developed stronger heart and lung muscles than I ever dreamt possible. I built my core muscles and worked extensively on balance and core work to help give me the stability I would need once I hit the road.
I spent more time 'learning to ride' off my bike than many people spend on their bikes. And while it is an imperfect strategy, it paid off. I did not become a proficient cyclist- the fact is that you just have to get on your bike and ride in order to do that.
But I did become a very, very strong one. And I mean that literally. My cycling muscles are killer strong. And that's what got me through on race day.
Race Day: Come hell or high water...
Those 3 hours and 17 minutes on the bike were some of the greatest moments I have ever lived. Don't get me wrong. It was *hard*. So, so hard. And so damn awesome.
First of all- no flats. I saw many other people get flats, but somehow I got spared (ha!). But the time that I spent learning how to change a tire was definitely not in vain- it eased the anxiety a lot and let me focus in on the actual task at hand: peddling my damn feet and putting those muscles into action.
Based on my training, I had hoped to hold my own at a pace of 23-25km an hour, with a goal of doing the full 90km distane in less than 4 hours. That seemed reasonable to expect for a newish rider. I surprised myself when I was holding my own at 28-30km an hour- still not super duper fast, but- again- I'd only been on this bike 9 times, and I'd just done my first swim/T1 ever.
GWN is a relatively flat terrain, which actually kind of worked against me. I am super strong on hills. This might be because I didn't know that I had a whole set of lighter gears, specifically designed for hills. When Jasper explained this to me at training camp, he kind of broke my brain. I truly had believed that I had to do hills on the hardest gear, not the easiest. So I had spent months training that way.
I had most of my major gains on other cyclists on the hills- to the dismay of some, who commented on my "sheer strength" as I rode past them.
But they always flew right past me on the downhill sections. FYI, for those who have never done it, going +40km/h down a hill is scary. I did a lot of riding my brakes, costing me a fair amount of momentum, time and energy.
The first 60km were smooth as silk. Seriously- cycling feels like flying. Except for your butt. Your butt is very, very aware that it is absolutely not flying. But still, I felt strong, powerful and was holding my own against some much, much more experienced cyclists.
And then the wind came, and with it came the rain and hail.
The storm that we had been hoping would hold off until the end of the day was rolling in quickly. I had never ridden in poor weather before. The instability of it was shocking. I was able to hold steady, but it required me to dramatically change my riding approach, especially on the hills.
Fortunately, the rain and hail didn't last long.
Unfortunately, they lasted long enough to seriously derail me. Somehow, a hailstone got in through my sunglasses and lodged itself in my eye. The pain was excruciating. And, like the rookie that I am, my hand leapt up to protect my face...and that's when I crashed.
"Crashed" might be overstating it a little.
It's when I slid.
Very quickly.
Into the ditch.
Now, for those of you unfamiliar with racing bikes, my bike doesn't really have the same kind of pedals as your run of the mill mountain bike does. They are specialized, and you were fancy shoes that clip into them. It's odd at first, but amazing once you get used to it.
Unless, of course, you are still clipped into them while lying on the ground, in the rain, with your bike on top of you.
Five cyclists raced past me without saying a word. Honestly, I imagine that they were probably as frightened as I was of the worsening conditions and couldn't afford to stop. But the 6th cyclist, a nice young man, stopped and offered assistance. We got me unclipped, and get back on our bikes.
(I never got his name. I forgot his race number. But, Whoever you are, thank you from the bottom of my heart.)
Within a few minutes, I was back up on my bike and racing onward. It took a few minutes for my body to register the searing pain in my knee. It didn't take much of my anatomy knowledge to figure out that I had sprained my ACL. :(
I made the decision at that point to finish my bike ride and call it a day. I had to get back into the town either way, and the skies were starting to clear up. But the pain was exhausting and it took everything I had to make it to T2.
Goal for next year: Try not to crash my bike. Try not to injure my body. Aim for under 3:00:00. Actually ride my bike as often as humanly possible. Learn how to change the back tire.
Transition 2: 00:05:59.7
Ok, so remember how I said that I was going to be done my race when I got to T2. Yeah- I meant that. I really did. I was in a lot of pain, and I firmly disagree with 'pushing through' when you have an injury. Pain is often the body's way of telling you that there is a problem. Ignoring that problem, even in the short term, can have catastrophic effects.
But then, I have only ever done three races before this one (5km, 10km, 1/2 marathon), and I am starting to wonder if running through pain during races is simply inevitable when you start to race more frequently. So that's a topic I will need to research a little more.
So, yeah- I was about ready to call it in when I got to the dismount line, which is where I assumed we were supposed to cross before dismounting our bikes (which, you know, would make sense given the chalk line that said "Dismount here"...)
But I have anxiety. Really bad anxiety. Anxiety that is compounded by stress and social situations.
And it turns out I had misinterpreted the meaning of that line. Turns out 'Dismount here' actually means "If you haven't gotten off your bike by this line, Angry Alberta Triathlon Official is going to start yelling in your face until you get off your bike..."
Huh. Definitely didn't see that one coming.
So she yelled. And yelled. And I panicked, and got off my bike as quickly as I could (which was not quickly at all with a knee that didn't want to bend...) and hobbled my way to T2. Once there, I was so scared that she would yell at me again that I didn't even stop to think. I just started getting changed. Also, Jason was there, filming me and I knew that dozens of my friends would see me quit if I walked away. So I dug deep, put my runners on and went out for my run.
Goal for next year: If I can cut this one down, great. But honestly, just making it past T2 was a victory for me. So my goal next year is to make it to T2 feeling strong and ready for the run, instead of crying and terrified of how terrible the next three hours were going to be...
Run: 02:30:23.2
I keep coming back to this number, because I am convinced that it was a mistake. There is no way that this run only took me 2.5 hours. I swear to God, these were the longest hours of my life...and I have lived some long hours in my life.
The run hurt. It just hurt. It hurts to think about it.
It hurt because I was injured. It hurt because it was hot. It hurt because I was under hydrated, under nourished, under prepared for the mental exercise.
But mostly, it hurts because I was under trained.
And I need to admit that myself, and to the world. I was not trained for this run. I focused almost all my energy on the bike portion, and only did one run that was over 10km in my entire training season. There are several reasons for this, and none of them are particularly good ones. I was very busy. Life interfered with long run days. I could only do so much, so often, so intensely...I was burned out....
And the truth is that all of these reasons are 100% true, and 100% valid. But they still don't add up to being prepared and well trained. They might explain why I wasn't, but they don't actually do much more than that.
When push comes to shove, I went into this race knowing full well that I had robbed myself of the opportunity to perform well on the run and that I had no one to blame for that but myself.
Now, 2.5 hours for a half really isn't that terrible. It's actually a great time for many runners. But it isn't a time that is consistent with my own performance standards. And it isn't a time that reflects what my body can do.
So, now I spend the summer training my run again. I have another half marathon in September (Canmore, Rocky Mountain Half) that I would like to take under 2 hours. It's a nice run, but lots of hill trails and not a particularly easy terrain. It will take me solid work if I am going to meet that goal. Looks like I have some work ahead of me.
As for #GWN2017:
Goal for next year: 02:14:59.9
Total time: 06:42:57.1
Not too shabby for my first ever triathlon. Lots of learning moments. Lots of digging deep and pushing through.
But it is definitely a time that I look forward to beating next year.
Goal for next year: 06:29:59.9
And with that, I guess I will address the elephant in the room- the question that everyone has asked me since I crossed the line: FULL IRONMAN NEXT YEAR?!?!
The answer here is pretty clear to me: No. Not next year. At some point, yes. But not next year.
I have young children. I have a new career. I still have school for another six months. I have husband that I miss, and family and friends and neglected housework.
Will I do a full 140.3? Yes. I imagine that I will someday. But for now, I want to really let the major lesson of this adventure sink in: The journey isn't about the race itself. Pushing yourself to always go further and longer and harder is all well and good, but it isn't if costs you the pleasure and enjoyment of simply loving what you are doing.
Goals are important. They really are. Set goals that are ambitious. Push yourself to the limits. Reach your full potential. Be daring, take risks, be brave...do all those things.
But you don't have to do them all at once. And when you try, you sometimes wind up missing the little things that make the journey worthwhile.
Next year, I will learn how to really ride my bike. I will learn how to excel at my run, both in improving my mechanics and my actual training technique. I will do more open water swimming because it is my favourite thing in the world. I will savour every training session and remember that the real clock that I am racing against is the one that is ticking by the remaining seconds of my life. I will try to make every one of those seconds count.
In the great race of life, we all reach the same finish line. It's not when you get there that matters; it's the how you got there that defines how you'll be remembered.
Tuesday, May 24, 2016
"How to lose weight and keep it off": The rest of the story
Last night, I watched a TEDX talk that was filmed at my alma matter, the University of Alberta.
It was an interesting presentation that can be summarized as an excellent visual representation of why sustaining weight loss is a difficult task to master. I would suggest watching the video- it's worth the 10 minutes of your life it takes.
As someone who has experienced massive weight loss and is now entering my second year of maintenance (which I am personally defining as not varying outside of my end weight by more than 10% above or below), I'm always a little surprised to hear the statistics of weight regain patterns. While there is no doubt that evidence indicates that many people struggle with maintaining long term weight loss, it seems so glaringly strange to me that I should have so little struggle doing so. Moreover, of the six other people personally know who have loss in excess of 30% of their starting body weight, all of us are holding steady within pretty close ranges to where we left off in our weight loss endeavours.
We all did things differently. Some focused on diet mainly, while others (like myself) put the emphasis on physical activity; some used a weight loss program, while others 'winged it'. For some, weight loss was the actual goal. For others, it was the consequence of other, unrelated goals.
But the end result is the same: each of us lost a significant amount of weight, at least 12 months ago, and all of us have managed to keep that weight off.
Of course, I also know dozens of people (possibly even "most"people) have had different experiences. Many have lost weight only to have it come back, sometimes quickly and sometimes slowly over the course of time. Are we physiologically different? Science would say no. Is the distinction between us 'how' or 'why' or 'when' we changed our habits? Again, I would say no.
Which leads me to conclude that there is something else at play. And, in a roundabout way, Dr. Sharma nails it in his presentation. Of course, he doesn't know that he is doing it.
The one thing we all seem to have in common is this: We still do, to a large extent, the exact things that we did that resulted in our original weight loss. And we do them, as often as possible, because we love them. In my case, I went from enjoying walking, to enjoying running, to wanting to learn how to swim again, to wanting to learn how to actually bike. And now, I'm five weeks out of a 70.6mi triathlon, around two years from when this all really started.
For those who skipped the video (seriously, please watch it. It's a good one!), the premise is simple. Sharma uses a tension band and a volunteer to explain how difficult it is to maintain the habits that lead to significant weight loss. By representing both diet and exercise as 'tensions' on this band, and asking the volunteer to hold it 'indefinitely', we can see how continuing to exert resistance against constant forces is difficult, and- in some cases- near impossible.
That said, the presentation felt bleak. He described it as 'depressing'. Personally, I describe it as incomplete.
See, here's what he missed: No one in their right mind wants to hold a tension band like that indefinitely. What a terrible fate that would be. It is restrictive, it is exhausting, and it serves absolutely no purpose. It is the perfect analogy in so many ways, but he didn't fully explain why...
To sustain long-term behaviour change, whether it is changing your diet, increasing your exercise load, being less sedentary, kicking a bad habit like smoking, or starting a new one like making your bed, you need to create patterns that can be easily sustained for the rest of your life.
Yeah, I know that sounds scary. And that's the problem. We've convinced the world that any sort of permanent change is not only hard (which, it definitely can be) but also 'scary' (which it often actually isn't) And since we so heavily associate fear with negative emotions, we get overwhelmed at the idea of doing something forever.
Think about it. How few things in this life do we take on that are actually forever.
In many (most) cases, we leave ourselves an exit strategy whenever possible.
But we don't always take the exit lane.
Why not? Becomes there are some things in our life that are so totally awesome that we don't ever want to give them up!
For some, its their marriage. For others, their children. For others, their pets, their homes, their hobbies...most of us have thing in our life that evoke such strong passion that we would never ever want to 'exit' away from them.
And when you are that motivated by your passion or love for something, the fear of it being forever begins to fade, and it gets replaced by hope.
I hope this never goes away. I hope things can stay like this forever.
Hope is a lot more motivating that fear.
Going back to our tension band example, I wonder how differently the experiment would have been if we had asked the volunteer what their favourite activity in the world was. Skiing? Surfing? Lying on a beach? Cooking new foods? Playing with their kids? Snuggling with their spouse?
And if we had asked them then: "Do you think you could do that, most of the time, forever?" I wonder if their answer wouldn't have been a lot more positive.
Perhaps we would have heard some reservations or restraint: I don't really want to do the same thing, all the time, for the rest of my life...no matter how much I love it.
I get you. I wouldn't want to either.
What if I told you that you could do different pleasurable, enjoyable things that bring you happiness and joy, in varying combinations...would you be ok with that situation lasting forever?
I supposed you could find a few people who would still push back, but I suspect that they are few and far between.
And this is exactly how we need to start talking about diet and exercise/physical activity.
Eating food that makes your body feel great isn't a punishment. Moving your body in fun, exciting ways isn't a punishment. Both of these are actually super rewarding things that are easy to embrace once you have wrapped your head around the concept that they can bring you joy.
And it is infinitely easier to do this when we add in the variety component. "Healthy" food and movement choices abound. There are literally millions of different ways to eat and move your body that are safe, positive, and healthful. The sky is literally the limit when it comes to the possibilities.
But that's not what we tell fat people. We tell fat people that they are undeserving of happiness unless they reduce their body size. And then we tell them that they don't have the strength or discipline or character to reduce their body size.
And while we may not intend to do it, as a society, we are literally creating the problem by perpetuating myths about body weight, weight loss and weight management that just aren't true.
We prescribe super restrictive diets, knowing full well that restrictions of this nature fail.
We prescribe super intimidating, 'daily' exercise regimes that are (often) boring, and generic, failing to tap into the individual's inner motivations and drives.
We tell people that deprivation is the only way, and "coach" them out of simple pleasures on the pretence that these things are inherently "bad".
And we do all of this while reenforcing the archaic belief that there is only one acceptable body type, and that the vastness of the human experience can be summarized by the numbers on a scale or the ratio of fat on your body.
We do this, despite the fact that science has been telling us for a really, really long time that this is ineffective.
It's been telling us that these practices are harmful.
It's been telling us that the 'tension band method' is actually backfiring catastrophically.
So, in that sense, Dr. Sharma is right. We need a paradigm shift on obesity, because what we have been doing isn't working.
But where I disagree with him is what that paradigm shift looks like.
I propose, instead of medicalizing and further pathologizing the human body experience, we instead move ourselves away from 'weight' discussions as a whole.
Instead of talking about what individuals have to lose, we need to start talking about what we have to gain by making positive, meaningful, passionate changes in our every day routines.
Because adding activites and habits into our lives that bring us passion and joy, and encourage our body to work the way that it wants to is an experience of growth, not loss.
So let's stop asking ourselves what we need to cut out of our lives and start talking about what we need more of.
Does your diet need tweaking? Try adding more vegetables! If you eat them first, and listen to your body, the odds are pretty strong that you won't need to eat more servings of dessert than just the one.
But can you still eat dessert? Of course you can! And you should. Food is supposed to be pleasurable.
Do you spend a lot of time sitting down? Don't worry about sitting 'less'- just try walking a little bit more. Maybe an extra 100 steps a day? Maybe taking the stairs instead? A little bit more can go a very long way, and you'll surprise yourself by how quickly 100 steps turns into 1000!
Do you love to dance? Ski? Swim? We all have a few activities that are intensely appealing to us. I bet you already know where I am going with this: do them more. Seriously. Put time aside in your life for the things that make you feel fantastic! Not only do you deserve it, but it will serve you tenfold in terms of your mental health and stress levels.
So, what if your favourite hobby isn't active? Do more of it anyway. Don't do things for the calorie burn. Do them because you want to do them. Life is too short to not do the things you love.
But ask yourself this: Are there any things that are active that I've always wanted to try?
Do those too. Try them all. Check out that Zumba class. Find out what it feels like to throw an axe.
Learn how to ride a bike. Find a way to move that seems like fun. And if it isn't- if you genuinely hate it- walk away and don't look back. Again, life is too short to waste your time on activities that you hate.
Don't want to do it alone? Find a friend! Don't have a friend in person who can help? Find an online group! Can't afford it? Check out free programs or talk to your local YMCA (most have access programs for low income families). Need help connecting with resources? Hit me up with a comment and I'll see how I can help. I have some mad google skills. ;)
So, what about all those 'recommendations' that professionals give us?
I know. There's one final point I need to hit. Dr. Sharma tells us to talk to professionals (though he glaringly forgets to mention exercise specialists, who are probably infinitely more helpful here than a GP would be...). And he's right. I say that it's probably a good idea to listen to the medical and scientific community and follow their guidelines, to a large extent. But that doesn't mean that you can't find fun, meaningful ways to follow them. And it doesn't mean you have to leap in, head first, and do them all at once.
Remember, health is a whole body process. Weight is one way that your body indicates to you that its environment might need some tweaking. But it necessarily tell you that, and it hardly ever tells you the whole story.
I can't speak for everyone, but I feel confident speaking for myself: I'd far rather run, swim, cycle and dance for the rest of my life than hold a tension band. And the more time I spend doing those things, the less time I ever think about how much I weigh.
Changing one thing about your life for the better is a step in the right direction! Even if that one thing is as simple as lowering your stress level by balancing your bank accounts once a week so that you feel more in control and in charge. Even if you only do it once, it's better than never having done it. But remember that forever is only scary if you are being asked to do things that you hate.
Just do you.
Do your happy. Do your joyful. Take risks. Be daring. Be hopeful.
The rest will follow.
"Forever" is actually a really short time. Make the most of it, while you're here.
It was an interesting presentation that can be summarized as an excellent visual representation of why sustaining weight loss is a difficult task to master. I would suggest watching the video- it's worth the 10 minutes of your life it takes.
As someone who has experienced massive weight loss and is now entering my second year of maintenance (which I am personally defining as not varying outside of my end weight by more than 10% above or below), I'm always a little surprised to hear the statistics of weight regain patterns. While there is no doubt that evidence indicates that many people struggle with maintaining long term weight loss, it seems so glaringly strange to me that I should have so little struggle doing so. Moreover, of the six other people personally know who have loss in excess of 30% of their starting body weight, all of us are holding steady within pretty close ranges to where we left off in our weight loss endeavours.
We all did things differently. Some focused on diet mainly, while others (like myself) put the emphasis on physical activity; some used a weight loss program, while others 'winged it'. For some, weight loss was the actual goal. For others, it was the consequence of other, unrelated goals.
But the end result is the same: each of us lost a significant amount of weight, at least 12 months ago, and all of us have managed to keep that weight off.
Of course, I also know dozens of people (possibly even "most"people) have had different experiences. Many have lost weight only to have it come back, sometimes quickly and sometimes slowly over the course of time. Are we physiologically different? Science would say no. Is the distinction between us 'how' or 'why' or 'when' we changed our habits? Again, I would say no.
Which leads me to conclude that there is something else at play. And, in a roundabout way, Dr. Sharma nails it in his presentation. Of course, he doesn't know that he is doing it.
The one thing we all seem to have in common is this: We still do, to a large extent, the exact things that we did that resulted in our original weight loss. And we do them, as often as possible, because we love them. In my case, I went from enjoying walking, to enjoying running, to wanting to learn how to swim again, to wanting to learn how to actually bike. And now, I'm five weeks out of a 70.6mi triathlon, around two years from when this all really started.
For those who skipped the video (seriously, please watch it. It's a good one!), the premise is simple. Sharma uses a tension band and a volunteer to explain how difficult it is to maintain the habits that lead to significant weight loss. By representing both diet and exercise as 'tensions' on this band, and asking the volunteer to hold it 'indefinitely', we can see how continuing to exert resistance against constant forces is difficult, and- in some cases- near impossible.
That said, the presentation felt bleak. He described it as 'depressing'. Personally, I describe it as incomplete.
See, here's what he missed: No one in their right mind wants to hold a tension band like that indefinitely. What a terrible fate that would be. It is restrictive, it is exhausting, and it serves absolutely no purpose. It is the perfect analogy in so many ways, but he didn't fully explain why...
To sustain long-term behaviour change, whether it is changing your diet, increasing your exercise load, being less sedentary, kicking a bad habit like smoking, or starting a new one like making your bed, you need to create patterns that can be easily sustained for the rest of your life.
Yeah, I know that sounds scary. And that's the problem. We've convinced the world that any sort of permanent change is not only hard (which, it definitely can be) but also 'scary' (which it often actually isn't) And since we so heavily associate fear with negative emotions, we get overwhelmed at the idea of doing something forever.
Think about it. How few things in this life do we take on that are actually forever.
In many (most) cases, we leave ourselves an exit strategy whenever possible.
But we don't always take the exit lane.
Why not? Becomes there are some things in our life that are so totally awesome that we don't ever want to give them up!
For some, its their marriage. For others, their children. For others, their pets, their homes, their hobbies...most of us have thing in our life that evoke such strong passion that we would never ever want to 'exit' away from them.
And when you are that motivated by your passion or love for something, the fear of it being forever begins to fade, and it gets replaced by hope.
I hope this never goes away. I hope things can stay like this forever.
Hope is a lot more motivating that fear.
Going back to our tension band example, I wonder how differently the experiment would have been if we had asked the volunteer what their favourite activity in the world was. Skiing? Surfing? Lying on a beach? Cooking new foods? Playing with their kids? Snuggling with their spouse?
And if we had asked them then: "Do you think you could do that, most of the time, forever?" I wonder if their answer wouldn't have been a lot more positive.
Perhaps we would have heard some reservations or restraint: I don't really want to do the same thing, all the time, for the rest of my life...no matter how much I love it.
I get you. I wouldn't want to either.
What if I told you that you could do different pleasurable, enjoyable things that bring you happiness and joy, in varying combinations...would you be ok with that situation lasting forever?
I supposed you could find a few people who would still push back, but I suspect that they are few and far between.
And this is exactly how we need to start talking about diet and exercise/physical activity.
Eating food that makes your body feel great isn't a punishment. Moving your body in fun, exciting ways isn't a punishment. Both of these are actually super rewarding things that are easy to embrace once you have wrapped your head around the concept that they can bring you joy.
And it is infinitely easier to do this when we add in the variety component. "Healthy" food and movement choices abound. There are literally millions of different ways to eat and move your body that are safe, positive, and healthful. The sky is literally the limit when it comes to the possibilities.
But that's not what we tell fat people. We tell fat people that they are undeserving of happiness unless they reduce their body size. And then we tell them that they don't have the strength or discipline or character to reduce their body size.
And while we may not intend to do it, as a society, we are literally creating the problem by perpetuating myths about body weight, weight loss and weight management that just aren't true.
We prescribe super restrictive diets, knowing full well that restrictions of this nature fail.
We prescribe super intimidating, 'daily' exercise regimes that are (often) boring, and generic, failing to tap into the individual's inner motivations and drives.
We tell people that deprivation is the only way, and "coach" them out of simple pleasures on the pretence that these things are inherently "bad".
And we do all of this while reenforcing the archaic belief that there is only one acceptable body type, and that the vastness of the human experience can be summarized by the numbers on a scale or the ratio of fat on your body.
We do this, despite the fact that science has been telling us for a really, really long time that this is ineffective.
It's been telling us that these practices are harmful.
It's been telling us that the 'tension band method' is actually backfiring catastrophically.
So, in that sense, Dr. Sharma is right. We need a paradigm shift on obesity, because what we have been doing isn't working.
But where I disagree with him is what that paradigm shift looks like.
Instead of talking about what individuals have to lose, we need to start talking about what we have to gain by making positive, meaningful, passionate changes in our every day routines.
Because adding activites and habits into our lives that bring us passion and joy, and encourage our body to work the way that it wants to is an experience of growth, not loss.
So let's stop asking ourselves what we need to cut out of our lives and start talking about what we need more of.
Does your diet need tweaking? Try adding more vegetables! If you eat them first, and listen to your body, the odds are pretty strong that you won't need to eat more servings of dessert than just the one.
But can you still eat dessert? Of course you can! And you should. Food is supposed to be pleasurable.
Do you spend a lot of time sitting down? Don't worry about sitting 'less'- just try walking a little bit more. Maybe an extra 100 steps a day? Maybe taking the stairs instead? A little bit more can go a very long way, and you'll surprise yourself by how quickly 100 steps turns into 1000!
Do you love to dance? Ski? Swim? We all have a few activities that are intensely appealing to us. I bet you already know where I am going with this: do them more. Seriously. Put time aside in your life for the things that make you feel fantastic! Not only do you deserve it, but it will serve you tenfold in terms of your mental health and stress levels.
So, what if your favourite hobby isn't active? Do more of it anyway. Don't do things for the calorie burn. Do them because you want to do them. Life is too short to not do the things you love.
But ask yourself this: Are there any things that are active that I've always wanted to try?
Do those too. Try them all. Check out that Zumba class. Find out what it feels like to throw an axe.
Learn how to ride a bike. Find a way to move that seems like fun. And if it isn't- if you genuinely hate it- walk away and don't look back. Again, life is too short to waste your time on activities that you hate.
Don't want to do it alone? Find a friend! Don't have a friend in person who can help? Find an online group! Can't afford it? Check out free programs or talk to your local YMCA (most have access programs for low income families). Need help connecting with resources? Hit me up with a comment and I'll see how I can help. I have some mad google skills. ;)
So, what about all those 'recommendations' that professionals give us?
I know. There's one final point I need to hit. Dr. Sharma tells us to talk to professionals (though he glaringly forgets to mention exercise specialists, who are probably infinitely more helpful here than a GP would be...). And he's right. I say that it's probably a good idea to listen to the medical and scientific community and follow their guidelines, to a large extent. But that doesn't mean that you can't find fun, meaningful ways to follow them. And it doesn't mean you have to leap in, head first, and do them all at once.
Remember, health is a whole body process. Weight is one way that your body indicates to you that its environment might need some tweaking. But it necessarily tell you that, and it hardly ever tells you the whole story.
I can't speak for everyone, but I feel confident speaking for myself: I'd far rather run, swim, cycle and dance for the rest of my life than hold a tension band. And the more time I spend doing those things, the less time I ever think about how much I weigh.
Changing one thing about your life for the better is a step in the right direction! Even if that one thing is as simple as lowering your stress level by balancing your bank accounts once a week so that you feel more in control and in charge. Even if you only do it once, it's better than never having done it. But remember that forever is only scary if you are being asked to do things that you hate.
Just do you.
Do your happy. Do your joyful. Take risks. Be daring. Be hopeful.
The rest will follow.
"Forever" is actually a really short time. Make the most of it, while you're here.
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