Today I was an Olympic Athlete.....
I was on top of the mountain and it wasn't cold because the sun was shining and I was sweating, so the fresh air felt good on my face. The sky was blue, the snow was sparkling, and my body was a well functioning machine. I was a hot gold metal winner on a podium, Sports Illustrated freaking hot in a slutty sports pose on the cover!
I found my 'happy place' today, my moment of zen where all of a sudden it doesn't hurt while working out, my breathing regulates, and my blood flows and it seems easy to do push ups or jump squats for 50 second intervals with only 10 seconds of rest for 30 minutes. I get in the zone. unfortunatly it doesn't happen every time I work out. I often get distracted by other people, my own thoughts, the count down of how much time is left before I am finished torturing myself.
But the mornings I am killing it in Bootcamp, my mind is a million miles away. I flash images in my head until one clicks and I go with it. A method of meditation I remembered from some old self help tape I listened to unsuccessfully as an adolescent actually works now.
My most popular vision is of Hawaii, probably because its the most beautiful place I've actually ever been and experienced, so I can recall the details easier needed to take me there again mentally. I'm running on a beach, its hot, the mountains are in the background, the ocean off to my left. I look great in my bikini, all tan and toned. White beaches, palm trees, salty air, frosty Pina Colada waiting for me back at my beach towel. The works. It works. Before I know it my set is over and I just mentally went on vacation.
When I got bored with that scenario, I began to travel to places I've never really been. Made up places that don't exist anywhere else but in my mind. This method is beneficial and neverending because all the details can be made up by me.
Another favorite is a perfect long country road, green trees everywhere, budding flowers pollinating the air, fields that stretch like the ocean full of an allergy sufferer's nightmare. But I am running and I can breathe. I take in the fresh air and it smells so fucking good. Like the color green or summer or how sunshine would smell if the whole world weren't polluted by our toxic waste. I don't sneeze or wheeze or cough, I can run forever and drink the air in like it was the purest water in the world. Time! Another set is over.
I've been clubbing in Tokyo like I was in a Brittany video and I wasn't scared of the size of the crowd packed into the loft penthouse pulsing to techno music and sweating in unison. Sometimes I'm on stage, like Beyonce in some costume and outrageous heels, and I'm giving it my all because the sold out crowd is demanding their money's worth. Sometimes I'm in a video. Or swimming laps in a very cold Lake Michigan with the Chicago skyline behind me. Some days when I just need to get through that last 10 seconds, I pretend I'm dancing(or doing it! ha!) with the finest, best looking man in the entire world and I refuse to let myself stop.
Today, I was an atelete.
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Monday, February 15, 2010
Fuck a 5:30am February Bootcamp!
It's not the Bootcamp part I am mad at, or even the 5:30am wake up call. It's the February, let's-have-a-snow-storm-every-week part that is pissing me off! Seriously, I have driven through TWO snow storms risking my life and almost as important my husband's 4-wheel drive work truck (which equals our livelihood at this point) to go exercise at 5:30 in the freaking morning!
Several times I told myself I'm crazy. Who in their right mind gets up at 3:30am and drives to Mount Washington in a snowstorm to go workout? Me, and about 15 other dedicated people! Intellectually it seems to make no sense. How stupid to venture out into the dark, alone, on snow/ice filled roads to exercise. Crazy.
But you know what? The more I told myself I am crazy, the more I realized I didn't FEEL crazy. I feel good. I feel energized and happy and proud of myself for not letting even a snowstorm or two hold me back. And I am doing freaking awesome, I've lost 16lbs so far and can tell a major difference in my clothes already. It just makes me feel so good.
Plus, I'm sick. A sore throat from hell didn't even stop me from not missing a class. I'm stressed to the max over sick babies with never-ending ear infections and colds. Carly and Bryce are both having surgery Friday on their ears and I'm scared and worn out from the whole routine of doctor's offices, pharmacies, and insurance referrals. Its overwhelming and draining to spend my days just waiting for my babies to get better.
But Bootcamp, for me, has always provided an escape from everything else. 1 hour of no fear, 1 hour of not caring or paying attention to anyone else, 1 hour out of 24 in a day to work on ME. That's not too much to ask, and if I have to get up at 3:30am and start drinking coffee to feed babies and get them settled back in before I leave, clean snow and ice off my car, dredge out into less than ideal weather conditions to make that happen, then that's what I will do.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
'Yo!' As my trainer would say, I was 'killing it' this morning in Bootcamp. Rocking it. Cranking it! For the first time when he called out an exercise towards the end of a 45 minute workout, full sit ups, I couldn't wait to begin.
I had this and I knew it. I practiced full sit ups at home all last fall until I could do them after still struggling with ab work during my Noon Bootcamp class. I got tired of always half ass doing exercises because of my weak abdominal muscles or because of my knee injury (which was legit and still hurts during certain exercises or if I push myself too hard). All around me people had been doing full sit ups and there I lay, half way raising up off the mat.
I was discoureged. I was tired of finishing last. I could see some progress from when I started. Even though when it was time to jog around the building I was always the last to round the corner, at least I wasn't getting lapped by people anymore. I used to only be able to walk the laps, now I could semi-jog. But it wasn't enough. I'm not the kind of girl who finishes last and it was wearing on me always being behind, adapting expercises to cater to my injury and weaknesses, feeling not as good as the others.
One night at home, I was laying on the floor playing with the babies and when it was time to sit up, I all of a sudden pulled up in a sit up position.... with no pain! I lay right back down and did it again. And did it again. And again until my daughter crawl-tackled me, amused at my little game. Holy shit I could do a sit up!
This was major for me because 4 months earlier when I started Bootcamp in the summer, I could barely even do a crunch. I was 12 weeks off my second c-section in less than as many years and my insides were still healing. Any ab work hurt.
Why wouldn't it, pregnancy itself is a shock to the body even though its what we as women were designed to do, carry a baby around on our inside. Throw in back to back pregnancies (one with TWINS!) with back to back surgeries involing all the layers of your gut being cut open and sewed back together and no wonder my abs hurt! That shit is jarring and tramatic to your body, someone cutting through all the skin, fat, muscle, tissue, utuerus walls to rip out soemthing that is literally growing and attched to your body. Ah, childbirth via c-section! It ain't pretty, but I can usually find a positive to any situation... at least my goodies survived tight and in tact!
I digress...
By November after my realization I could in fact do a sit up with no pain, I came to the conclusion the only thing holding me back had been the memory of the pain and fear that it might hurt. It didn't actually hurt anymore to do a sit up. I was siking myself out!
After that little break through it was over. When it was time to 'crank it in 5...4...3...2...1' I was off. Back straight, arms straight up over my head, slow coming up and going down, measured breathing, head high, shoulders back. Perfect execution. The best thing about it, all of a sudden I wasn't the weakest one in the class. The women on either side of me were both struggling, unable to do even one, and there I was knocking them out. It felt great.
One of the girls asked, 'Leah, how do you do that with all them babies?'
'Hard work. I practice. 3 months ago I couldn't do one either.'
I tell her a brief version of my story hoping I am an inspiration to not give up and keep trying. I want other mothers especially to know they can do it, just don't give up. We are MOTHERS! We can do anything!
Best of all was the realization that I was no longer the weakest one in the class. There were people in there who couldn't do the things I could. I was no longer finishing behind the pack.
Dare I say I am a leader?
I had this and I knew it. I practiced full sit ups at home all last fall until I could do them after still struggling with ab work during my Noon Bootcamp class. I got tired of always half ass doing exercises because of my weak abdominal muscles or because of my knee injury (which was legit and still hurts during certain exercises or if I push myself too hard). All around me people had been doing full sit ups and there I lay, half way raising up off the mat.
I was discoureged. I was tired of finishing last. I could see some progress from when I started. Even though when it was time to jog around the building I was always the last to round the corner, at least I wasn't getting lapped by people anymore. I used to only be able to walk the laps, now I could semi-jog. But it wasn't enough. I'm not the kind of girl who finishes last and it was wearing on me always being behind, adapting expercises to cater to my injury and weaknesses, feeling not as good as the others.
One night at home, I was laying on the floor playing with the babies and when it was time to sit up, I all of a sudden pulled up in a sit up position.... with no pain! I lay right back down and did it again. And did it again. And again until my daughter crawl-tackled me, amused at my little game. Holy shit I could do a sit up!
This was major for me because 4 months earlier when I started Bootcamp in the summer, I could barely even do a crunch. I was 12 weeks off my second c-section in less than as many years and my insides were still healing. Any ab work hurt.
Why wouldn't it, pregnancy itself is a shock to the body even though its what we as women were designed to do, carry a baby around on our inside. Throw in back to back pregnancies (one with TWINS!) with back to back surgeries involing all the layers of your gut being cut open and sewed back together and no wonder my abs hurt! That shit is jarring and tramatic to your body, someone cutting through all the skin, fat, muscle, tissue, utuerus walls to rip out soemthing that is literally growing and attched to your body. Ah, childbirth via c-section! It ain't pretty, but I can usually find a positive to any situation... at least my goodies survived tight and in tact!
I digress...
By November after my realization I could in fact do a sit up with no pain, I came to the conclusion the only thing holding me back had been the memory of the pain and fear that it might hurt. It didn't actually hurt anymore to do a sit up. I was siking myself out!
After that little break through it was over. When it was time to 'crank it in 5...4...3...2...1' I was off. Back straight, arms straight up over my head, slow coming up and going down, measured breathing, head high, shoulders back. Perfect execution. The best thing about it, all of a sudden I wasn't the weakest one in the class. The women on either side of me were both struggling, unable to do even one, and there I was knocking them out. It felt great.
One of the girls asked, 'Leah, how do you do that with all them babies?'
'Hard work. I practice. 3 months ago I couldn't do one either.'
I tell her a brief version of my story hoping I am an inspiration to not give up and keep trying. I want other mothers especially to know they can do it, just don't give up. We are MOTHERS! We can do anything!
Best of all was the realization that I was no longer the weakest one in the class. There were people in there who couldn't do the things I could. I was no longer finishing behind the pack.
Dare I say I am a leader?
Tuesday, February 02, 2010
When I get really sleep deprived, not just normal everyday sleep deprived, but I-haven't-had-more-than-an-hour-of-uninterrupted-sleep-in-a-week-or-so sleep deprived, I become weepy. I find myself pleading with 10 month olds in the middle of the night to please just give Mommy a break and SLEEP, as they laugh and play footsie with each other in my arms. They are so damn cute, I alternate smiling at them while I can't stop crying and then I really feel looney toons. And they just look up at me and smile, oblivious that their mother's sanity is slipping away and if they would just SLEEP, I could SLEEP and be such a better mother to them!
Then when the 2:00am-5:00am battle is finally over and they have surrendered to their cribs, I lay in bed and cry some more. Feel sorry for myself like everyone else does, the ones who say, 'I just don't know how you do it' and the ones who flat out say, 'I feel so sorry for you!'
Most of the time I don't feel sorry for myself at all, I just feel blessed. When people say, 'I'm glad its you and not me!' I respond in my head, 'Me too cause I doubt you could do what I do!' But sometimes in that crazy I can't sleep because I'm so freaking tired state, I feel sorry for me too.
Nobody understands. Not my parents, not my family, certainly not my friends who still invite me out for girls night not understanding getting a babysitter is nearly impossible with three babies nobody wants to watch because its too much work and work is not fun! Other twin moms might understand and my husband certainly understands, but he's not much comfort when he's just as sleep deprived as me!
By 6:30am Bryce is crying with his morning wet diaper hello, and I can't even be grateful that he didn't wake up sooner, because sometimes we are all up at 3:00am, me alone struggling on the couch with three sleepy babies who want a spot on me, while my husband works his graveyard shift that won't end until late the following night.
Once one is up, they are all up, so I begin a fresh day with extra strong coffee Kenny made to try and jolt me out of my sleepy, weepy state. I send Bryce off to school and cry some more when I can't make a doctor's appointment for Carly to get tubes in her ears because the person who does the referrals is out sick. Maybe if she wasn't in so much pain, she'd SLEEP and not scream so loud she keeps up all up at night.
I cry on the phone to the office lady who tells me to try back later in the week and say pitifully, 'OK I'll just let her suffer in pain until someone decides to send the fax over!' And I hang up and cry some more.
I know its all just a phase and they will grow and I will long for my sweet baby days (damn it I'm still crying!) but sometimes I just want to SLEEP.
And yes, they are both sleeping peacfully now because they were up half the night, and despite the genious advice to 'sleep when the baby sleeps', (which doesn't work well for parents of multiples because do you know what the odds are that all three will sleep at the same time for any good length of time to allow me to get any meaningful sleep? Slim to none!) I've drank too much damn coffee to lay down.
Besides, really what's the point because the second I slip off into unconsciousness, the baby monitor will flare up like a fucking switch board and I will just have to drudge myself back from the edge of dreamland and be Zombie Mom again for the rest of the day until my relief pitcher shows up in the form of another less sleep deprived Daddy or family member who has mercy on me and takes a kid or two, God Bless them!
Then when the 2:00am-5:00am battle is finally over and they have surrendered to their cribs, I lay in bed and cry some more. Feel sorry for myself like everyone else does, the ones who say, 'I just don't know how you do it' and the ones who flat out say, 'I feel so sorry for you!'
Most of the time I don't feel sorry for myself at all, I just feel blessed. When people say, 'I'm glad its you and not me!' I respond in my head, 'Me too cause I doubt you could do what I do!' But sometimes in that crazy I can't sleep because I'm so freaking tired state, I feel sorry for me too.
Nobody understands. Not my parents, not my family, certainly not my friends who still invite me out for girls night not understanding getting a babysitter is nearly impossible with three babies nobody wants to watch because its too much work and work is not fun! Other twin moms might understand and my husband certainly understands, but he's not much comfort when he's just as sleep deprived as me!
By 6:30am Bryce is crying with his morning wet diaper hello, and I can't even be grateful that he didn't wake up sooner, because sometimes we are all up at 3:00am, me alone struggling on the couch with three sleepy babies who want a spot on me, while my husband works his graveyard shift that won't end until late the following night.
Once one is up, they are all up, so I begin a fresh day with extra strong coffee Kenny made to try and jolt me out of my sleepy, weepy state. I send Bryce off to school and cry some more when I can't make a doctor's appointment for Carly to get tubes in her ears because the person who does the referrals is out sick. Maybe if she wasn't in so much pain, she'd SLEEP and not scream so loud she keeps up all up at night.
I cry on the phone to the office lady who tells me to try back later in the week and say pitifully, 'OK I'll just let her suffer in pain until someone decides to send the fax over!' And I hang up and cry some more.
I know its all just a phase and they will grow and I will long for my sweet baby days (damn it I'm still crying!) but sometimes I just want to SLEEP.
And yes, they are both sleeping peacfully now because they were up half the night, and despite the genious advice to 'sleep when the baby sleeps', (which doesn't work well for parents of multiples because do you know what the odds are that all three will sleep at the same time for any good length of time to allow me to get any meaningful sleep? Slim to none!) I've drank too much damn coffee to lay down.
Besides, really what's the point because the second I slip off into unconsciousness, the baby monitor will flare up like a fucking switch board and I will just have to drudge myself back from the edge of dreamland and be Zombie Mom again for the rest of the day until my relief pitcher shows up in the form of another less sleep deprived Daddy or family member who has mercy on me and takes a kid or two, God Bless them!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)