keep going

“Just going to have you step on the scale real quick…”

“Ok… should I take my shoes off?”

“If you want to!”

*no brainer*

I took my boots off, obviously. That’s extra weight that I certainly do not want to claim as my own at this crucial weight loss juncture!

Reluctantly, while trying to channel all the skinny vibes I could think of, I stepped on the scale at the doctor’s office last Tuesday morning. Drum roll please…

After a solid week of working out and eating healthy I was pretty confidant I’d be down 10lbs (or perhaps at least 1lb, come on!). I got nothin’. The same rude number I’d seen the last time I stepped on a scale mocked me and reminded me of the golden rule: it takes time.

And it does. It takes time to train your body and your mind; to develop a routine; and for that routine to become a lifestyle.

So, I put my head down and got to work the rest of the week.

Wednesday – Circuit training (legs & cardio)

Thursday – Circuit training (arms & abs)

Friday – Circuit training (full body)

Saturday – Strength class at Allegiate gym  

Sunday morning I played 6 games of volleyball (that’s 2 vs 2 beach volleyball, just to be clear – I’m not talkin’ jungle ball here). I would argue that beach volleyball is one of the best forms of exercise there is. Volleyball is a full body workout in and of itself. Then you add soft sand and you’ve got yourself some sore muscles that you didn’t even know you had to begin with. Some people (you know who you are) have a hard time merely walking in soft sand, let alone running and jumping in it.

Around game 4 is when I’d normally feel like tapping out. On Sunday I vividly remember the moment I realized that I was feeling differently than I normally do at that point. I was feeling stronger. My legs weren’t shot. I still had gas in the tank.

Over the last several years I’ve started and stopped many exercise routines. The pattern that I’ve noticed is this:

1. I want to lose weight.

2. I workout for a couple weeks but don’t see immediate results.

3. I’m frustrated with myself for letting myself get this out of shape in the first place.

4. I hate the feeling of struggling through a workout that shouldn’t be this difficult for me as an athlete.

5. I hate working out and give up.

Rinse & repeat.

On Sunday I broke through a barrier. The scale may not tell the story just yet, but I know what I felt. I think I was finally able to swap in a new step #5 –

Keep going.

Keep training your body and your mind; keep developing a routine; and eventually that routine will become a lifestyle. The results will come. 

don't think just do it

Monday – Circuit training (legs & cardio)

Tuesday – 45 min walk

Wednesday – Circuit training (arms & abs)

Thursday – Off

Friday – Circuit training (full body)

Saturday – Orange Theory Fitness class

Sunday – Beach volleyball

I took it one day at a time last week and ended up stringing together a pretty balanced week of physical activity, which is ultimately the goal. I learned, however, that this only works if you’re completely honest with yourself. If you choose to listen, your body is a pretty clear communicator.   

After my ‘face the music’ epiphany on Tuesday (see previous post), I naturally had a resurgence of energy which lasted the whole of one lousy day. I vigorously completed my circuit training on Wednesday morning, but by Thursday I was ready for a break. And breaks are important. I probably didn’t need a break on Tuesday evening when I originally didn’t want to go on that walk; it was only Tuesday, after all. But by Thursday, I had 3 active days in the books and I just needed to relax. I made the commitment to myself to show up for circuit training Friday morning (and by show up I mean roll out of bed and do it in my apartment – whatever gets it done!). Thursday break; fire it back up Friday – seemed like a good plan, and it was! The tricky part came on Friday night when my sister-in-law asked me to go on a walk Saturday morning and I thought, “YES, that sounds way better than going to the 9am Orange Theory class I’m signed up for.”

It’s truly in the split-second decisions we make that the most crucial growth happens, I believe. I had plenty of time to cancel my 9am Orange Theory class and certainly wanted to (Orange Theory kicks my bum). I went back and forth in my head, trying to convince myself that I didn’t need to go to Orange Theory, I could just go on a walk. I’d already worked out hard 3 days that week plus I went on a walk, and I knew I was also playing volleyball on Sunday. It’s funny how intense the inner monologue is when you’re trying to convince yourself of something that you know you shouldn’t do.

In a split second, I decided that ultimately there would be times when I legitimately needed to cancel but this wasn’t one of them. So, I declined the offer to go on a walk and I somehow managed to show up at Orange Theory the next morning. I felt GREAT afterwards.

My dad has always said “don’t think just do it” when it comes to exercise (peculiar advice out of context) – he’s a man of routine and I admire him very much for his discipline. Perhaps instead of carrying on that inner monologue next time I want to bail on a workout I know I shouldn’t, I’ll just not think at all and JUST DO IT! I’m beginning to see what Nike saw in that slogan…

Sidenote, here’s what I love about Orange Theory, for those of you who haven’t tried it.

1. It pushes me outside of my comfort zone – via treadmills. I hate treadmills; never been an enthusiastic runner. Perhaps if we dove into my psyche we’d find that as an athlete, running was always associated with punishment (the dreaded statement, “Get on the line!”) and that’s where my aversion to running stems from. Regardless, Orange Theory provides the structure I need to allow my brain the comfort of knowing it will end and this isn’t forever (yes, running forever is what nightmares are made of). The coaches at Orange Theory lead you through very structured, timed intervals for which there is a guide plastered in front of you telling you at what speed and incline you should be at (base pace, push pace and all out pace). I wouldn’t say I look forward to this portion of the class, but treadmills and I are coming around in our relationship; I like the feeling of accomplishing something I wouldn’t normally attempt.

2. It has taught me a new skill – via the rower. At LMU the Volleyball team had 6am workouts. We’d feel sorry for ourselves until we showed up and saw the Rowing team already mid-workout on the rowers outside the weight room. I was always wowed by that, and now I’m wowed by the exercise they were doing. Rowing is no joke.

3. It incorporates exercises I’m familiar with and enjoy(ish) from my time as an athlete – via floor exercises/weights. It’s always nice, after having stepped outside your comfort zone on treadmill and suffered through rowing, to shine just a little bit when the coach sees your impeccable technique with weights. Thanks, LMU Strength and Conditioning!

All in all, the class is fast paced but you ultimately control your own level of intensity. You leave exhausted but energized. Not quite pumped about the next workout, but feeling accomplished and proud of yourself enough to get you there the next time. I think that’s a win, as far as I’m concerned.

Onward!

face the music

8pm, 55˚ F. Hermosa Beach, CA.

What am I wearing, you ask? What any Southern California native would wear for an evening walk in this type of severely inclement weather, of course --   

Red Nikes, long grey sweatpants, sports bra with a white crewneck sweatshirt that says in bold black letters: “FACE THE MUSIC,” black coat (you need the full visual for this one -- it's a Michael Kors rain coat that falls about mid-thigh... not sporty at all), black beanie.

I almost wore a shearling coat but then switched at the last minute, fearing I may have overdone it. I also considered mittens. God only knows what I would’ve done with ear muffs, had I had some at my disposal.

In my defense, I was walking on the strand and it was a bit windy – I think they call that wind chill?

As I got walking, I saw several other people out jogging – guys wearing shorts and light jackets – that sort of thing. I had to chuckle, take a deep, salty, breath of fresh air, look at the whitecaps of the ocean visible in the dark distance, and think to myself, “I’m so lucky to live here. I’m a ridiculous person and I’m so lucky.”

In that moment I was supremely grateful (and admittedly a little warm in my getup). Here we are in Los Angeles, *suffering through 55 degree weather while people on the east coast (and all over the world) are quite literally freezing (*we are so dramatic). If people across this country – across the world – can manage to be active during the winter, I definitely can do so here in Hermosa Beach (and you can too, wherever you are).

This was a tiny victory for me – getting out and walking on Tuesday night. I said I would do it and I (extremely reluctantly) did it. String together 7 of these small wins and you’ve got yourself a productive, active week in the books.

It’s funny how the universe sometimes (often, I find) gives you a little laugh in the middle of a circumstance that you're taking entirely too seriously. I was literally wearing a sweatshirt that said “FACE THE MUSIC” and that’s exactly the lesson I coincidentally learned that night. Sometimes you just have to face the music and get it done – the workout, the phone call, the dishes, whatever. And sometimes the answer you’re looking for is literally right in front of you – in my case, sprawled across my chest. 

new year same me

Monday, January 1st was when I was going to get it together. New year, new me. It’s now January 3rd and I haven’t gotten it all together just yet… turns out it’s more like new year, same me.

Same me. Let’s start at the beginning.

Ever since I hung up my jersey for the last time and didn’t have a mandatory workout to be at at 6am or any other ungodly hour, I’ve been admittedly less than committed to my exercise routine. And that’s putting it lightly. I currently weigh more than I'd like. And that's putting it lightly, again. But it’s not really about that – the ever elusive number I’d like to see on the scale isn’t really my concern when I take an honest look at myself in the mirror.

I was a student-athlete at Loyola Marymount University for 5 years (red-shirted my 2nd year due to shoulder surgery) competing at the highest level many athletes, including myself, manage to climb to -- NCAA Division 1 Volleyball.  

At the end of my Sophomore year, headed into Junior year of high school, I signed my National Letter of Intent to play at LMU. I graduated from high school a skinny, hopeful string bean and packed my bags for summer training with the LMU Strength and Conditioning coach.

Over the course of the next 5 years I had no choice but to transform into a MUCH physically & mentally stronger version of me. I remember going through 2-3 shirts per practice (had to change so the floor wouldn't get slippery from sweat); lifting heavier weights than some of the male athletes (volleyball players have strong legs y'all); and being forced to take ice baths before being allowed to leave the training room (because soreness is really real after 3+ hours of practice and an hour of strength & conditioning). If you would've told me then that I'd miss those things 7-8 years later, I would've laughed in your face (or slapped you upside the head).

But here I am. I may not miss those particular things, per se, but I miss the feeling -- the feeling of being so physically, mentally and emotionally challenged and drained at the end of the day and waking up and doing it again the next day because that's what we do. That's what athletes do. That's what teammates do. You don't let your team down; you have no choice.

I'm still an athlete at heart – you never lose that – but I no longer have a team pushing me and holding me accountable. No one will be directly affected by my choices. No one will know if I go through the motions at a workout, don't finish my reps or flat out don't show up to the gym. No one will make me run, or bench me or yell at me. No one will see me fail.

It's taken me a number of years to fully understand why that mentality is wrong. I have myself to push me and hold me accountable. I will be directly affected by my choices. I will know if I don't show up. I will see me fail.

And I matter.  My opinion of myself is the one that matters the most, come to find out (at thirty years old no less).

When I look at myself in the mirror I want to see an athlete. I want to see a reflection of how I feel on the inside – beautiful, strong, powerful. I want to make myself proud.

And above all, I want to be the healthiest version of me possible – mind, body & spirit.

So yes, this is a new year and I’m the same me. The same me who hits the snooze button at least 6 times, who doesn’t get super pumped about workouts or eating salads, who has been starting and stopping this post-glory days fitness journey for years.

But I’m also the same me who played D1 volleyball. The same me that is competitive and passionate about sport. The body can withstand almost anything; I proved that to be true for myself in college, and many people prove that to be true in extraordinary ways every single day. It's the mind that has to be convinced. I’ve come to understand that after you’ve done that, it’s all about finding your rhythm.

I flat out didn’t get it together on January 1st. I hit snooze for 2 hours on January 2nd and when I got home from work I turned on Netflix, unbothered.

I could go on about what I didn’t do. What I failed to do. But instead, I think this time around I’m going to find my rhythm by focusing on the tiny victories. Perhaps they'll all amount to something truly great in the end. 

This week's goal: blog up and running. So far, so good!