So much to tell!!!

So it has been a very very busy week since I last blogged. Katy's birthday and way too many sick people. BUT I had to blog today.

I just finished an 11+ mile walk in 3 hours and 20 minutes (20 of which were spent in coffee shop and under a tree in the middle of a downpour.)

I have done found me a walking partner!!!

My friend Lauren is in! And this child has some long legs so my time has drastically decreased. AND she is a chatty cathy with THE BEST stories. I am so happy I could wet myself.

But in even bigger news...I have my next goal.

I have signed up for the Susan G Komen 3 day walk for the cure in Philadelphia October 13-15th. It is 3 days, 60 miles.
And I am doing it with 2 amazing friends all of us training in different cities. Nat in Philly, Margo in NYC and me in little ole Knoxvegas.

It is amazing how this worked out. I have a Geneen Roth retreat that week in San Francisco and thought this was absolutely out of the question because the retreats usually run Tues through Sunday. But when I checked the retreat dates something didn't add up. I checked and rechecked and sure enough the retreat schedule for this retreat is Sunday through Thursday. This means I can fly to Philly Thursday to walk Friday.

It was meant to be.

I am becoming someone who misses exercise and moving my body when I don't get to do it. Screw becoming. I AM the someone who likes to move my body. I never would have thought I could spend a lazy Sunday morning off call out in the pouring rain with thunder and lightening ENJOYING good company and an 11+ mile walk.

Lovely lovely gift for the beginning of my 46th year.

7 miles! And the next challenge is shaping up!

Today I kicked butt. And on a day I was on call after a Saturday of utter chaos, I made time for myself...and I walked my 7 miles. I did it in 2 hours and 4 minutes and I finished the last three miles between 3.5 and 3.7. I am CRAZY pleased with this.

So I have really been enjoying this process and have been looking for the next challenge and the universe has shuffled and arranged and I think I will be able to go to my fall retreat (which is oddly Sunday through Thursday) and then be in Philadelphia to walk the Susan G. Komen 3 day walk for the cure!!! I am nervous and excited. I sent away for my info packet just now and am looking forward to the chance to walk for another 8 months of training!

I Zumba'd!

And it was a blast and I was a sweaty mess. I am so glad I went. Now I need to get up and go to the Y in the morning. I have been sleeping through my alarm for the last two mornings. Early bed time tonight and hopefully no major phone calls!

ZUMBA!!!

Oh, and tonight I am spending my rest day from training trying a Zumba class with a friend of mine. I am noticing I don't want to go. I love to dance and I love fitness classes that are fun. So what the heck is going on with my reluctance?

Probably because Zumba is like playing. And some part of me feels like I am not supposed to have fun and play.

I am going. We'll see what comes up.

Hard truth.

So the other day I am talking a best friend through a very difficult time. Her story to tell but suffice it to say we were discussing destructive patterns and the difficulty in recognizing them let alone changing them.

At one point I said to her, "Look, I, better than most, totally understand the feeling of being powerless over your actions when it comes to old patterns." I then explained how I found myself putting myself into situations where there is food. Lots and lots of food. And how I know that if I put myself there in that situation, I will eat.

Every single time.

Mid sentence I felt like I had been slapped in the face. This is true. Very very true. Too true.

During this conversation I am shopping in Pigeon Forge. There are some stores there that have samples. I always go in them. To shop? Fuck no. To put myself in the proximity of food. So that very day I went to 2 of them (actually looking for a tortilla press) and ate nothing but was crazy aware of the pull of the gluten rich pretzels and dips. The third was Harry and David and I had a chip and dip. I also noticed how pissed i am that they police their samples and hand them out one by one. I noticed that feeling and realized what I really hated was being prevented from binging.

So the last few days I have been paying attention to food. In doing this I have started tracking my food. A food diary if you will. The tool I use is on Sparkpeople so I always see calories and get a report card. It is a dangerous as a scale for me.

There is a lure for me to follow what they tell me to eat. Be good. Fudge on what I actually ate so the numbers look prettier and more in line.

But this time I am doing it differently. Honestly. Non-judgementally. AFTER I ate it.

It has been helping me be mindful. Thoughtful in a way that has been different from the times I tracked before.

I have problems with trust. Mainly trusting myself to know what is right for my body or even how I actually feel with certain foods in my body. So I am teaching myself trust. Mainly, I am teaching myself that, when left to my own devices, I will not eat calorie after calorie with wild abandon. I will not fall into a hole of binging.

I am going to have to be very careful with this tho. I can feel the old pattern and the disconnected, "diet-y" feeling I have gotten before when I tracked lurking in the corner.

For now, I am stayng in the moment and trusting the process. And working very very very hard to be non-judgemental and realize that eating 9 pieces of candy on Valentines day landed me well within the recommended calories but way off in how I felt in my body.

It's a process. It's a process. It's a process.

Assessing. Reassessing. Trying not to over think it.

So I realized a few days ago that I have been doing this for about 7 weeks now. Actually, it is seven weeks tomorrow.

If I am honest, this is the longest I have ever stuck with a movement/exercise program in over 20+ years. I have done much more intense exercise programs but they would involve 4-5 ridiculously intense days a week and I would stick to it for like 4 weeks and then quit and take to the non exercise bed.

Two years ago that resulted in a nasty case of plantar fasciitis. And I quit.

I don't mean I quit the 2 hour step classes or DVD's 4-5 times a week. I quit every form of exercise. I was never going to do it again.

Can you say black and white thinking???

I was the QUEEN of black and white thinking. I struggle horribly with the idea that I am not doing enough, not vigorous enough, not burning calories enough. And I would push and push and push. And I would never enjoy what I was doing. And no matter what I did, or how toned I got, or how much weight I lost, it was never enough. Never. Ever. Enough. And I never listened to my body.

So when I decided to move again the day after Christmas, I wasn't sure where it came from, and don't really care. But I started. On vacation. At a beautiful resort. In Florida (at 23 degrees) I hit the treadmill almost every day. On the cruise ship, I hit the treadmill or something every day. It didn't feel like exercise, and I felt better.

So the other day, and it was a shitty day, I realized i was just feeling happy. I had no immediate reason to feel happy. Then I realized I have been feeling pretty good more than I have not been feeling pretty good.

I also noticed I have been trying to struggle. And trying to binge (and sometimes succeeding) more than I have in a long time. That protector I talked about the other day...she is feeling very threatened.

What that tells me is something is shifting. Another part, a calmer and wiser and more patient, less dramatic part, has taken over. She gets up and goes to the Y every morning she is supposed to. She takes her rest days. She dances to move when she wants to.

And she doesn't need to over think it.

She also wants me to plan a 10K for some time in June For me to aim for. She is one smart chick because she knows this half marathon is gonna be over in another 7 weeks and she (we) wants to keep it going.

OK, I'm ready.

So I told you all I did a workshop on Saturday.

Now I am ready to talk about it. Well, maybe I am ready to stop beating myself up so I figure talking about it and all the shit it brought up would be a better alternative than eating myself into a ruptured stomach which is what I have been doing for the last 3 or 4 days since the workshop.

I think it dug up a lot of stuff that needed digging up. And even as I write this all I want to do is go downstairs and eat until I feel nothing.

So the workshop was a voice dialogue/soul collage workshop. We watched a movie called As It Is In Heaven and if you have not seen it SEE IT!!!!! It is profound and wonderful and sad and moving and happy and moving and lovely. One of the best films I have ever seen. It is Swedish with subtitles so be prepared.

While watching the movie we were supposed to notice and take notes on what was coming up in us while we watched. And what came up for me was fear and vulnerability. Lots and lots of fear and vulnerability.

We were then to take about 3 hours to cut pictures out of magazines and make soul collages from the part of us that came up.  Here is mine. This is the part of me that comes up and "protects" when I feel afraid and vulnerable.

 

 The Protector Self

Let me first say that I love this collage. It is raw and real and informative and loving.

And the process was incredible.

I am going to explain it because I want to remember the process.

We started by looking for a background. This is one of my favorite parts. It is hard to see completely but the wet blue is a glacier washing up in a rough black sea. So the water on the bottom right is in the same picture as the ice blue glacier. And I knew I wanted a tumultuous sea as my background because that is how this part of me sees fear and vulnerability. Rough, dangerous water. And the glacier was a bonus. The idea of long ago frozen pieces bobbing to the surface and washing up on shore? Perfect.

Then I found this picture of the baby. This startled frightened baby cradled in a set of hands. How perfect an image of my vulnerability and fear.

I then began thinking of all the ways I "layer on" to avoid exposing my vulnerability and protect myself from that which i am afraid of. I thought of my anger, my performing, my behaving, my drinking, my stubbornness, my ability to throw money at it, my acting like the queen ruler who cannot be over ridden, my rigid good girl rule following, my bolting, my reasoning and staying in my head to "solve" the problem, my ability/drive to talk myself into or out of something with my head and reasoning. And food. Bread to be exact. It is all there. Just take a look.

But a remarkable thing happened as I began to layer the pictures around this terrified and vulnerable baby. I placed the angry woman and the crazy, wild stage performer and the over the top woman trying to reason first. 

Then the crossed arms (from an angry bouncer-apropos) and the drunk Carrie Fisher. Then the money and credit card and then the baguettes at the bottom.

When I pulled back and looked at it, I saw a shape. 

MY SHAPE.

I added the suitcase and the dark, rigid ballerina. I added the bagels like a rounded out hip. The more I filled in the more it looked like my body to me.

I added a bagel as a head. With an open mouth. And a crown of a dominant queen.

And a couple pieces of lightning and it was done.

Not a single space around this frightened and vulnerable and unprotected little baby. Layer upon layer keeping her safe from the outside.

For the first time I saw how I got my body to where it is. Why I got my body to where it is. And what is underneath it all.

I wasn't mad or panic-y or sad. I was kind of relieved. And I loved it.

Oh and there is another little secret. There is a picture of a slim, strong, powerful woman doing a yoga pose directly beneath that frightened baby. And After I found her and glued her in. I found a bigger picture of her and had to do another collage. But that is to share for another day.

And now I am going to leave this and then write another post about my binging now that i have this all out in the open.

I am breathing a bit easier now.

Ouch.

Still sore from my walk Sunday but managed to get an hour in today. It was a slooooooow hour.

Wait a minute.

It was a 3 mile an hour hour. I walked it and thought, GOSH this is slow, I suck, I am never gonna be able to do this. But I just realized. When I started 5 weeks ago I could only walk a 3 mile an hour walk after about 2 weeks and even then only for like 20 min with some serious effort. Sunday I alternated between 3.5 and 3.7 in the last 3 miles (no wonder I am sore) and managed just fine.

I am noticing how easy it is to be critical and miss the growth.

So today I am just gonna say I was gentle and I have noticed how far I have come in a very short period of time.

WOW!

Am I sore!!!

Finished week 5 yesterday with a 6 mile walk in an hour and 45 minutes. Also rocked out to Just Dance and Wii Fit Plus yesterday morning. I knew I was in trouble when my legs started tightening up during the Superbowl. So I stretched and stretched and stretched. So I guess it could be worse. Right?

Anyway, I feel really good about where I am right now in this process.

I also have a lot to say about a voice dialogue and soul collage workshop I did on Saturday. But am not quite ready to post about it.

Kindness.

So I have been struggling lately. Well not exactly struggling. More like trying to struggle. See, struggling for me is a well worn coat. It is still hanging in my closet but every time I pick it up to put it on, it just doesn't seem to feel right. However, I keep picking that bastard up.

So I have been going to the Y and doing my training and feel god about it.

Probably a little too good. Which has triggered this longing for my old struggle. I know the struggle. It is familiar. It is comfortable...sort of.

So today I noticed I was kind of trying to shut down. So i binged. Not a volume, cram it all in so you cannot breathe binge. But I ate bread and butter. Now being gluten intolerant makes this a no no for my body. But bread and butter is a red flag combo for me. It numbs me like a drug.

So I noticed I was trying to shut down. Actively, passionately, devotedly trying to shut down.

I just noticed it and didn't force a lot of shit around it. Just noticed.

I also had my last meditation class in my series tonight and I did not want to go at all. After a shitty shitty day at work I wanted to go home and shut down some more.

But I had this thought. Who would I be if I went anyway. Completed this course. Saw it through and let myself just be still tonight.

And I went.

And so I'm sitting there and like 30 minutes in it hits me. I have a tattoo.

HOLY SHIT I FORGOT ALL ABOUT MY TATTOO.

And then I teared up. See, I love my tattoo. It is a the word kindness in henna color at the top of my neck. The only thing that has ever kept me out of my head was kindness. So I decided to permanently etch it into the base of my skull. Easy to see when I wear a pony tail. But all mine when I am at work. I love that tattoo.

And in realizing I had forgotten all about it, I realized I had forgotten to be kind to myself.

I also realized what was probably driving me into my head and what was making me shut down.

I was doing a lot of kindness in the last 6 weeks. And it scared the piss out of the part of me that needs me to be mean to survive. I also know that a workshop this Saturday has been heavy on my mind (probably for the same reason, but more on that later.)

So I will remember my tattoo tonight.

Boy am I glad I went to meditation.