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So, what the heck happened?

Nearly two months of no updating isn't without reason or desire to get back to writing. But now that all the shows are done, I finally have enough time and energy to tie up this loose end.
Not long after my last post, I started working out at my (now) roommate’s gym, where she works as a personal trainer. I was just looking for a place to be anonymous. Best laid plans, though…. Despite my resolve to not add anymore to my life, I began dating this handsome young man who worked in the sales department. I found him surprisingly supportive of not only my competition goals and lifestyle, but he said he even respected my knowledge and wisdom as a trainer (which was something I had never heard out of any guy I’ve previously dated). This guy seemed so different and so genuine; I couldn’t help myself but to keep him around.

 He was quick to become a consistent workout partner, so that and the happy emotions gave my body the break it needed from stress, and I was back on track for my shows. But after a few weeks, I still was not happy with how my body was shaping up. I didn’t want to just get to stage, I wanted to be competitive. I knew I wouldn’t be bringing the package I wanted to Emerald Cup, so I made the very tough call to pull out of the show. My big fear for so long while riding that teeter-totter was what would happen if I didn’t do Emerald? Would I still work as hard for Ironman? I had to push myself to try. I had a day or two of disappointment and backsliding, but determined that I would go forward, the stage was too important to me.
Then came my move into my new apartment, which I love. It’s beautiful and spacious. And God bless her, my roommate tolerates my tilapia cooking! At the end of the week after my move, I was getting more and more excited. Things were wrapping up and I could see that there was a bright light ahead as far as finally being able to completely focus on my prep. Then I heard from my dad. Now, my dad and I mainly have a business-only relationship. He wrote me via Facebook saying he had a fantastic business opportunity for me. My dad credits a lot of the training he and I have done together in keeping him one of the worlds top-ranking trap shooters. He’s also a coach for the sport world-wide. Not long after becoming a trainer, he had me start brainstorming on what I could do to improve the athletic condition and the game for his clients. That later evolved into us setting goals for having me travel with him and work with his clients abroad the way that I have at home.
This proposition threw my world for a massive loop. It would require another tough decision to be made rather quickly. Because the departure date for this trip to Italy would be only a couple days after Ironman.
Actually I was supposed to be on a plain right now.
I asked my dad what would be required for this trip. If I didn’t have to do any prep-work, I would be able to continue training and dieting. My dad really doesn’t involve himself with my life too much, so I’m sure he was unaware of what I’ve been putting myself through of late. His response to what this trip would require of me was a 5 page text message of how much detail the shooters were looking for in their programs and what they are expecting of me. I then knew, there wasn’t enough time to do all the food prep and training involved and do this work on top of it.
 I told him about my goals and that if I did agree to do this trip and all the prep involved, I’d be giving up everything I’ve been working so hard for. And yes, there are other shows, but because of where I spent last year, this Spring had so much extra meaning for me.  And if you’ve read my blog, you can understand the weight of this decision.  Dad assured me that even if the clients backed-out, I would still be paid what I would have earned training them. Unfortunately, that hasn’t so much come to pass. I was very heavy-headed for a few days following this conversation.  After talking to my boyfriend and a few other friends about it, it was pretty clear that Italy would be wiser. There’s just one big hiccup to the whole problem. My dad presented nearly the same offer last year. A trip to Cyprus right after stepping off the Ironman stage. Very similar earing and training potential. We went through a massive run-around last year getting my passport renewed, making work arrangements, even gathering luggage, the whole nine. But about 3 or so weeks prior to when I should have been preparing to leave, I ask my dad about the trip, looking for further confirmation, and he gives me a blank stare and changes the subject. Needless to say, there was no trip.
So when it came to me trying to decide, show or potential trip/ potential nothing, history was inescapable. One of my co-workers put it as such, “Burn me once, shame on you. Burn me twice, shame on me.” So I just sat and hoped I was making the right choice.

Over the following couple of weeks, there was a decent amount of text communication (compared to how infrequently my dad and I normally speak, which is about twice a year outside of him deciding to train again or needing me to work with one of his clients). But always ended in a lot of questions and doubt. Once I decided to pull out of the show, my motivation was entirely wasted. I was burned out on the concept of training for a later show and I was finding more opportunity for work as makeup artist for the two competitions.  Since I’ve never done multiple makeup clients in one day, I wanted to spend a good amount of time designing their looks and making sure I had the right products. Soon all my attention was veered from fitness and proper eating to makeup, managing an increasingly demanding relationship, and trying to find time to work on my nutrition certification.  The week prior to Emerald Cup, I might have worked out once. Outside of that was eat, sleep, makeup, boyfriend. Somewhere in there, my reoccurring hip issue went overboard and caused so much pain I spent almost another week without typical cardio or leg training. It was much better once I got to see the chiropractor, but it solidified in my mind the relation for my body between running and injury.

Emerald, however was a huge success for team iPhysique. My friends and teammates brought amazing physiques to the stage and made us all very proud of their dedication and hard work. 
You can see highlights on my instagram and facebook pages.

 

I tried resetting my mind after Emerald, and getting back into healthy eating and working out. My boyfriend even wanted to try a couples’ weight loss challenge. But I could never really get my head back in the game. Not enough exercise, self-destructive eating behaviors, and mounting stress over uncertainty with my dad and other life-factors.  I soon completely gave up hope about the trip. The last I heard from my dad was May 7^th with a very non-committal text about shooters.

Makeup work and poor food choices became my escape. I realize that how much I had sold myself on the hope that with competing, I’d finally have a handle on my self-sabotage. What I understand even more clearly is exactly how much being a competitor means to me. How much of myself I put into it, that once the show is off the table, I’m beyond lost. Or at least I feel and act that way.

But still life continues, as checked-out as I have been.  Last weekend was Ironman. Another huge success for the team. I had an absolutely insane schedule that day. See, at Emerald, it was a two-day show, I got to split my makeup clients across the weekend. I did makeup for 13 or so competitors, and split up, it wasn’t too challenging at all. I was super busy, but I wasn’t a basket case by any means. Ironman proved a bit more daunting. 12 women needed to be stage-ready by ideally, 8 am. Now, though I got up before 3:30 in the morning and started at 4am, I still had to run girls after that 8 am goal time. I did a good amount of makeup backstage in very dim lighting. But I did what I could, and everyone seemed very happy with what we could pull off.

Beyond that though, my client, my first competitor to make it all the way to stage, got 3^rd place in her very first show! Extremely proud “mama bear” kind of moment for me. Absolute tears of joy from the two of us. If you are part of the Focused On Results Training Facebook group or follow my personal page, you might have seen the updates.

 But the worst happened as far as what I feared. I didn’t get to stage, there’s no trip, and even though I was only five pounds away from my “stage” weight, I’ve put on ten in the last month. I’m hoping that by finishing this entry, I can close the book on this chapter; however, I know I can’t. There’s still so much work to be done in order to get myself thriving again. See, the worst isn’t even my aforementioned disappointments. It’s the fact that in all of this, I’ve gotten myself completely off-track spiritually.

My blog has been marked strongly by my faith. And all I wanted was to do all of this to the glory of the God I love. And where some might point a finger at my boyfriend, because he’s not Christian, I don’t. I won’t argue that it doesn’t have impact, because once he really came clean on where he stands on the matter of faith for himself, I know I stopped sharing mine as much. But in all the sad honesty I can offer, he doesn’t act much different than the supposed Christian men I’ve always dated, save for one, but I wouldn’t consider him a prime example of a strong and Christ-like walk. But yes, I’ve made sacrifices. Ones I’d promised myself I wouldn’t, I think the breaking of those promises to myself has cause the most pain.

I do know this much about myself, if my efforts are not directed toward furthering the cause of Christ, my motivation never lasts.

My goals still stand that I want to get back down to 13% bodyfat and gain as much muscle mass as possible before competing in Seven Feathers and Washinton Ironman this Fall.

I wish I had some kind of wrap-up final though for this. But I really don’t. Maybe that’s a good thing, it ain’t over til it’s over, right?

Own Who You Were Created To Be

So, yes, long time since my last entry. Today marks pretty much the first day I’ve had enough time and energy to sit down and write [I’ve had to come back to this statement and amend it, it’s actually taken me literally a week of sporadic mini writing sessions to complete. My schedule is still wonkers]. I don’t think I’ve ever had this much on my plate at one time. Just to list a few things that all need to be completed before April or so; drop around 8-9% bodyfat for Emerald Cup, find a roommate and new place to live (think I’ve almost got that one checked off, PTL), get my nutrition certification because my NASM needs to be renewed and I’ve completely blanked on the fact it’s up next month and I’ve done NOTHING about it (bad trainer), find a good tax pro (another semi-check), and many other smaller things all while getting in all my workouts, food prep, and clients. For two weeks or so, my days were non-stop from around 4:30 to 11pm. And the stress load was massive because very few of those hours were devoted to anything outside the gym. My system has hit a wall. And so did my consistency with diet. The weekend just after my last post, I lost my marbles and binged L sad, bad competitor. I’ve also been dealing with some jacked-up hip muscles that were causing almost non-stop pain and limiting a lot of what I could do exercise-wise. They’ve gotten better, but leg training and cardio is still a rough point in my week.

 Two of my recent check-ins have been rather disappointing because my weight has gone up, do to my stressed system. I’ve not gotten much sleep or many naps. So I’ve had very low energy and been retaining a ton of water as well. And I gotta say, there’s a real frustrating downside to getting in shape, it’s been so much harder to get my cardio calories burned in a short amount of time anymore. Kristi’s asked for another 100 calories on top of the 750 I used to have to burn a day. But since getting in better shape and losing weight, I burn about ¼ fewer calories in the same amount of time. Good problem to have big-picture wise though J

Fortunately, I guess, a few of my recent leg workouts have been alone, after gym hours. I can’t express the level of frustration having a functional movement systems certification and great trainers and health professionals around me, yet the answers to my hip/low back issues is yet still eluding me. The pressure and demands of this competition prep combined with this physical pain has had me so emotionally and physically exhausted at times that leg day leads to a lot of tears. So, I’m glad for alone-time while I try to figure out what I’m going to be able to train and how hard those nights. Last week, was another one of those moments. I couldn’t squat without my hips and knees going in awful directions, muscles not firing properly, and a fair amount of pain. I’m not a fan of machine squats or leg extensions, I’m rather hard-headed about core and hip stability. After some failed attempts at some alternate exercises, I was determined to think this issue through, and invent an exercise if need be. I ended up combining a few things which I will keep you updated on, because I think they might just do the trick.
But with all that, I prayed that God would just give me strength for that moment. I reflected on all the times He’s let me know that He cares and is involved in my situation. It was easy to recall many experiences of His faithfulness. My mantra for that workout was “I’m not giving up. I don’t know what God has in store for me in 9 weeks. But as long as I know that I’m not giving up, that’s all I need.”

Since this past Summer, having the experience with the Lord’s encouragement that I did (leading to that tattoo), my faith and trust in Him is so much greater than ever. I really feel like competing is a walk of faith for me. And lately, my faith is nearly inseparable from my workouts. More and more frequently, I’m turning off Pandora and listening to my Athey Creek sermons instead.
After my meltdown a few weeks ago, I was so blessed to hear this one the following day...
http://atheycreek.com/21/teachings/6734/the-sin-cycle/

Pastor Brett explains what he calls the “sin cycle”. Wherein he detailed exactly what I was experiencing that weekend of getting frustrated, falling for the temptation and committing the sin (which was going thru with buying the junk food and eating it), and the struggle with the guilt and self-punishment after. I found it so freeing to hear that message after.

Now, in my last entry I mentioned that I would probably go into a bit of personal detail and all day today a lot has been coming to mind about experiences and my walk in faith and really what pulled me into competing.
Spring of 2006 was a life-changer. I was starting to turn my life around for the better. Breaking out of a really unhealthy relationship, starting college for personal training, as well as putting in some serious effort to get healthy after dealing with really disordered eating for a few years. But the week after breaking up with my boyfriend, I was left sexually assaulted by two different men. One, a man I hadn’t met until that day. I had kind of wanted a “rebound” date, so to speak but it ended up going terribly wrong. I drove home from Longview that night very shaken and confused. Unsure of how to define what had happened nor whether it was my fault or not. No matter how many times I went over the details with my roommate, I couldn’t accept the frightening label she gave it. I guess I had it in my mind that I would never be a victim of something like that.
It was the week of St. Patrick’s Day. Toward the end of that week I got a call from my recent ex, who being on parole, and receiving another DUI would be facing more jail-time. Yes, real winner. I quickly drove out to Scappoose to be with him. Still shaken from my experience, of which I had informed him, I was just looking for an escape. A long conversation with him in his room about his troubles and I honestly couldn’t tell you how it lead to the following situation. I’d had nothing to drink or otherwise impair my judgment. I only remember bits and pieces.
Perhaps if you also come from an abused childhood, you can relate. There’s a place a child can find in their minds where they can shut out the world or whatever is happening to them and kind of go numb or “black” as I recall it. Your body is no longer yours, and you’re not in it. Whatever is happening, is not happening to you. And all I can say for what happened when my ex didn’t listen to me pushing him away and saying “no” was… I just went “black”.
After, I remember sheepishly picking up my clothes and hearing him laugh and accuse me of using him.

 

I think it was about three or so months before I decided that I had to say something. But the time that had passed before I did was horrible. Stressed and panicked. Relapsing into non-stop binge/purge cycles. Eating to the excess of gaining roughly 35+ pounds in that time before talking in vain to the authorities.

Years passed before I could get the weight back off. Which leads to my honest reason to step onstage. I was done being afraid of being attractive again. It was a new experience for me around that time in spring where I had finally felt good, healthy, even slightly pretty in my own skin. But that quickly became associated with trauma.
I was ready to be in control and unafraid. To be onstage, in a bikini (which never in my life had I worn in public) was staking a claim. No more overcompensation. No more anger. Six years of hiding myself behind various defense mechanisms, and I was done.

I was willing to battle all the feelings I had previously run from for the goal of feeling myself under the spotlights as a victor. But, even now, it’s still hard as once again, I’m getting close to “competition shape” to find guys noticing me or even staring. My initial response is still anger, same as it was 7 years ago. Back then, I worked the floor and cashiered at Wal-Mart while going to school. I had a full blown panic attack once when a few guys went thru my line and commented on my perfume and looks.
Even last night, getting ready for posing practice, a few male gym members were staring harder than I thought they should. Honestly, I wanted to yell at them. But I said nothing, keeping a polite expression.

On a side note, I really battle with trying not to be too critical of those who get in shape purely for the sex appeal of fitness. It’s so not about having a “sexy” figure for me. I’m not doing this for attention. I have no intention of littering Instagram of pictures of my butt or Facebook with pictures of me (even at peak condition) in a sweaty sports bra talking about how hard I train. I do have pictures of me in a bikini after show, but I think that’s as far as I’ll take it. I want to be an inspiration for health and to train hard and respect the body God has created. Anything more will be saved for my future husband, Lord willing I be blessed with one.

A few years ago, I was ready to start feeling a certain sense of empowerment and started taking Krav Maga (the self-defense, no rules, fighting technique of the Israeli army) and began lifting for more size and strength. In class, day one, I was already thrown against a male fighting partner and pinned to the ground. At that moment, seconds lasted for what seemed to be hours as I had to choose whether to give into familiar fears and impending paralysis or use the skills we were learning in class. It was petrifying. I battled with those emotions weekly, but ultimately, despite becoming a stand-out female student, I stopped attending. I caved to increasing stress and self-criticism.

This morning, as I saw my reflection and where I stand now 8 weeks from stage, I started to really feel like God is giving me a second chance at handling stress in a healthier fashion. Last Summer, relapsing and gaining 40 pounds, not the best way of dealing. I actually wouldn’t call that really “dealing” at all. I full on gave up and coasted for a while. But here I stand, my faith the only thing holding me up anymore, but eager to trust in Christ for what He has for me.
Most people I talk to about my history with being assaulted aren’t also informed of the attempt I made on my life and ending up in the hospital. Before choosing to follow Christ a few years after becoming a personal trainer, life for me was very different. I was a radically different person. And though sometimes I struggle, generally, I’m a happy person. Prior to Him, I never knew happiness or any sense of freedom or hope. So, after the aforementioned experiences, I had no relationship with God. But the morning after getting out of the hospital, I just began feeling like He had me here for a reason. And that thought kept me going forward.

God wastes no amount of pain.
^“And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are the called according to His purpose. For whom He foreknew, He also predestined to be conformed to the image of His Son, that He might be the firstborn among many brethren. Moreover whom He predestined, these He also called; whom He called, these He also justified; and whom He justified, these He also glorified.” Romans 8:28-30

So, in reflection, I just feel like God is calling me to fight for something important. Laying down my passed regrets and failures and keeping my eyes on Him and where I dream to be. I don’t see the whole picture. And I know I can only get up every day facing unyielding life-stressors and mounting health concerns (more on that in the future) by leaning my full weight on Him.
If that makes me what you’d call a strong person, or a fighter, it’s only because I trust Him. Last year, I didn’t respect who I was in Christ, and completely lost myself. I can only pray continually that I walk in unwavering faith this year.
Only a few weeks left to stay on plan to prove if I’ve done enough to be ready for my May 3^rd deadline.  I want to be strong competition this year. I have many doubts about how I look currently.
But chin up, train hard, hold strong.

Where the heart goes, the body follows

I know it’s been a good two weeks since my last entry, but they’ve been great ones! I was super busy with my work and exercise schedule as well as trying to keep the common cold in check.  I rarely get sick, so it was a surprise for me to be down with the sniffles for so long.
I had another great check in with Kristi on Monday, down 2% bodyfat in the last week alone! Something great is happening week-by-week at this point. Last week I hit my first weight loss goal (155, which is the half-way marker on what I needed to lose for show) and got to lace up my new SUPER BRIGHT running shoes.

I’ve also put in the first payment on Kristi’s suit, which is now sitting patiently in my apartment, waiting to have some stones reattached. I had a bit of a Schmiegal moment once I handed over the paycheck and picked up the suit….”my pweshious!”

At this point, I’ve attained a sold 19% body fat, down from the 26% and extra 20 or so pounds from my peak recently. Solidifying the absolute requirement to be consistent in your program. The diet has become so easy at this point. I’ve hit my stride in the routine, and it’s become effortless to eat this way. I think one of the biggest factors has been removing the tempting foods which were part of my program initially. Kristi and I have had many discussions on where I need to be for my nutrition in order to stay consistent not only in weight loss, but with the priority of being healthy and getting my nutrient requirements.  She’s very much someone who wants to enjoy each meal, have it look and taste nice so that she can look forward to it. I, on the other hand, don’t want to think about my meals at all! I rarely season my food with anything other than cinnamon, sea salt, or yellow mustard. If my food tastes too good, I’ll want to just keep eating more.  This is how I’ve kept bad habits in check. My food doesn’t taste bad, it really doesn’t taste like much, actually. But this way, I have no temptations. Once I’ve competed and it’s time to start transitioning my body for maintenance and more muscle gain, I’ll slowly add more foods back. At that time, I’ll be ready for the challenge of avoiding such temptations as tasty meals and the anticipation of fruits and sweet potatoes. To have them in my fridge now would be far more mental effort than I can risk removing from everything else in my daily life with the added pressure of losing another 10% body fat in 13.5 weeks.

In a recent discussion I had with Kristi, she and I were talking about promotion and marketing of myself as a trainer and businesswoman. She asked me what I wanted my story to be. “Do you want to be Amanda this big transformation? Amanda- the competitor and athlete? How do you want to market yourself?” I took a second to think, but knew right away that I wasn’t about to change too much from what it is I already do. I told her, “In anything I’ve done, online or in person, it’s always been about being relatable to people. I want to be able to have these successes and do amazing things but never create that distance from the people I’m trying to reach. I never want that fourth wall to go up.” It doesn’t seem like I will ever want to abandon my goal of reaching and bringing up a few select clients of mine who either haven’t tried taking the big step forward that I want for them, or who have such an attachment to their fears that they refuse to put forth the effort of which I know they are capable.

And with that in mind, I try to be as much of an open book as I can with regard to what is wise to do as a business person. To share the following picture, I’m electing a level of vulnerability that I hope will be effective in commanding a few questions you might have to ask yourself. In my ideal imagination it’d be, “what am I so afraid of? Is it really that bad?”

I knew, as much as I didn’t want to, I needed to take a picture of myself at my worst last year. I don’t know how much I weighed at that starting point, but my guess is around 175 or so. It’s odd the parallels this holds to another time in my life. I think I’ll be getting into that in a future blog for the sake of not having too long of an entry today.
And the second line of pictures is from this last Monday. In neither am I trying to hide anything. No sucking-in or flattering angles. That’s the real deal. It’s not easy to share because, like many people, sharing at the half-way point or before you feel like a success seems pointless if not somewhat defeating. But what the hell, right? This is part of my story. And the way that I envision my story is that all the ups and downs, good and bad, along with every mistake and failure will have something that can help motivate or inspire someone to do better in their own thoughts and lives.

How we choose to view ourselves and our story can make such a difference in our approach to our goals. If you believe something negative about yourself or your story is revolving around you being a failure or deficient, your efforts for improvement will more than likely end in frustration. In my first blog entry, I wrote about the importance of not wishing your past were anything different than what it is. All you can change is how you choose to look at it. And the other day I hit that mountain top of experience. I realized that I was so at peace with all my experiences and choices over the last year, because of what God’s been able to show me. How much stronger He’s made me, how much more I desire Him in my life that if I had to, I’d live it again. To be where I am as a person, this confidence, this amount of self-control (especially over my own thought-life) isn’t as good as I want to be, but immeasurably better than where I was a year ago.

I feel so deeply for those clients and friends of mine who circle around the same issues, in particular, weight loss and healthy behaviors. Lately, it seems, there’s been a common experience among a few people who at one time, rose above their circumstances and excuses to achieve amazing progress forward, if not achieving a set goal; yet they’ve found themselves backslidden, and defeated. I just went through that, and I understand the mindset.  I felt hopeless, and was convinced that I was just too broken, too far gone to compete again. What I wish I could somehow force my clients to look at things differently. But I know that stubbornness, especially when feeling so low and so far removed from where you felt good about yourself.

I’ve been watching the latest season of Supersize Vs. Superskinny on YouTube. What had me so taken aback was the absence of hope in some of the obese individuals. One MUST have hope in order to continue to move forward toward their goals. Devoid of hope, you’re wasting time and money, beyond that, you’re draining from those who are trying to help you.

My clients worry when they aren’t progressing, that I’ll be disappointed in them. I’m never disappointed or mad at them, if they’re trying. When you’re truly putting in even a little effort to be successful, no one can be mad at that. But I’ve watched so many people on this show who sit, housebound, ruining their kids’ childhoods for the sake of their own despair.
To struggle is human. To vehemently disregard responsibility is shameful.

But it’s a choice. For me it started with a very small choice, full of fear, to admit to my coach where I was. I had minuscule amount of faith in myself, but I believed she cared about me and my success. The more I’ve worked with her, the more I’ve been able to see that she never wrote me off for gaining weight. She sees in me what I don’t see in myself.
“What would you say to your clients in this situation,” she once asked. “you wouldn’t look down on them for struggling. You’d never call your client a failure.”

“No, I wouldn’t.” I agreed.
“I don’t look at you that way either. You have to work on having more confidence in yourself. Remember how strong you used to feel.” Her efforts to get me to focus on the positive and set up successful days for myself were relentless.

The bottom line is even at your lowest, hope will not fail you. Time will pass. Some seasons are of slow progress, where all the growth is beneath the surface.
But what you’re doing will eventually break through, if you are consistent and choose to find the positives, focusing on the purpose about which you are passionate.

If you could have done this alone, you would have by now

Earlier this week Dr. John Berardi posted a great note on his Facebook page…

“When it comes to getting in shape, the "DIY" method (i.e. researching magazines, books, blog posts) rarely works. Here's why...
Researching and reading about fitness trains the wrong part of your brain. Whenever you read something in the fitness media, or even a peer-reviewed study on PubMed, you train and utilize the prefrontal cortex in your brain. In simple terms, you develop your ability to think about and understand concepts in exercise and nutrition science.
But the small everyday decisions that almost imperceptibly make you fat over time? Those are governed by an entirely different part of the brain – one that must be trained in an entirely different way. The small, everyday decisions that lead to weight gain and falling out of shape are controlled by the limbic system. And the so-called "lizard brain" that controls instinctive behavior and involuntary emotional response.
When you overeat after a stressful day and barely notice it, it's the brain's limbic system doing the damage (choosing high-calorie foods or larger portions, and so on). No amount of reading or DIY work will rewire that part of your brain. The limbic system is slow to change, and the only way to do it permanently?
Slow retraining under expert guidance, including rapid, accurate feedback every day. When people say, "If you could have done it alone, you would have already," it's precisely this they're referring to. Changes involving patterned behavior (and that's all that fitness is, really) can only be made under daily guidance from someone who can hold you accountable.”

And I think this answers so much of what I’ve heard as a trainer from gym members (especially when I worked at 24). A lot of people turned down training because they felt they could sufficiently self-educate or they “knew what they had to do, it is just a matter of actually doing it.” I think that’s a bit of a load, though. And I’m speaking from the experience of self-education and continued failure in independent success. And even in regard to the following scenario, I wasn’t even completely alone in the process, I still relied on other people for knowledge and support.

The summer of 2011 was my 10 year high school reunion. Knowing I wanted to start competing the next year, I set that summer up as mock competition prep. There were a few people at 24 with whom I worked who were former competitors, so I asked them for training and diet tips. I started working for my August 15th deadline in February. I mainly used the plan from Rachael Cosgrove’s “The Female Body Breakthrough” as my training program with loads of extra cardio and a diet mainly of lean protein and vegetables. Neither the cardio nor the limited diet were a recommendation in said book, I added those myself.

Had I been willing to make the more intelligent decision, I would have found a certified nutritionist to coach my eating program. I didn’t eat enough through this process, so fat loss and muscle mass suffered. Sure, I could fit into a nice small dress, but my mid-section and lower body weren’t all that toned. Only at the end did I finally sit down and track the calorie intake, it was maybe 800. Add an upwards of 2 hours of stairmill to that a day and we’ve got a few issues. However, I had such tunnel vision on my deadline and my dream of finally feeling like a success story, the process didn’t matter to me. I wish I had been more of a reasonable person at the time. All I learned from the experience was that I could commit fully to a program. Though that is an important awareness, especially for someone carrying a failure complex as strong as mine. But now that I’ve competed and worked with a coach for over a year now, the far more valuable lesson comes from slow, progressive modifications which apply to your whole life, not just a 6 month chunk of it.

But that’s been one of the “areas of opportunity for growth” I’ve gone through of late. If I’ve grown in anything this year, it’s been in my stubborn extremism. I’ve pushed the limits on weight loss many times in the last 12 years. Finding that balance was shortly lived post Ironman. I wasn’t emotionally prepared to handle what the summer held.

The extreme deprivation for the sake of weight loss was first unleashed after high school. Once my healthy weight loss plan plateaued, I forsook health and dove into insane food deprivation. I was living with my then boyfriend at the time and worked nights. Instead of sleeping during the appropriate hours, I ran on our treadmill daily and used the small weight set we had. Food never topped 1,000 calories. In my early twenties, my life was sold out to skinny-girl obsession. I remember asking myself if it was weird that I kept my scale in the living room and weighed myself 4-6 times a day.

To push it even farther, I starved myself on the Master Cleanse for over a week. By the end of it, I felt like a 90 year-old “but those 8 pounds were worth it!” I found my obsessions idealizing those I found in online eating disorder communities. Site after site of “pro-ana” and “pro-mia” encouragement and it took no time for me to begin repeating the behaviors I was learning from those I read about. A dark evolution motivated by the deep belief that apart from being thin and perfect, no one would ever love me.

For the majority of the last decade it’s been a similar pattern, lose weight, reach my goal in hopes of finding someone (typically I had be idealizing one guy in particular) to finally approve of me, and be completely unsatisfied (or worse, allow myself to be used by him).

- I have to just pause and take a breath as I reread that last paragraph. That’s some hard honesty to choke down. Staring years of self-abuse in the face. Even my attempts to feel loved were self-destructive. As glad as I am to feel like I’ve moved passed this into a place now of self-love and self-respect, I’m very sad for the girl I was.

About a week before deciding to start meeting with Kristi, I remember having a very clear conversation with myself. “This is life or death. Continuing to live your life this way, you will have nothing. You will never reach your dreams on your own. Push yourself into what frightens you. Completely trust and follow her program.” I realized there’d be no guarantees of great successes, but I HAD to change. I didn’t want to keep simply existing, I wanted to really live.

Not only did I find someone to finally keep pushing me and believing in me at my worst, I became part of a large group of people who understood and pushed me the same. I’ve never been part of any group of people so closely knit as when I joined the staff of iPhysique Gym. Being so introverted and insecure caused enough problems in an environment of people who cared so much, that I was pushed to change. Not to keep my job, or because management was breathing down my neck, but because I could see my co-workers genuinely wanted me to be better and happier.

I felt like there were a few people on the team whom I could get really honest with about my fears and my dark moments this summer, and having the response that they gave which came in the form of words of encouragement, kind gestures, and even a swift kick in the ass were vital in my recovery.

We need to surround ourselves with those who will be patient and understanding but will not enable our struggles. I thank God that He’s blessed me enough to spend my life in an environment of people who fit that description.

We need to change everything, not just what we know on an intellectual level in order to succeed. I know that it’s intimidating to immerse oneself in such an environment, but it should be. It's supposed to scare you. Make you fight. That’s the point, if you don’t force yourself to change, you won’t.

I should also note, I had an amazingly successful week last week. My Monday check in was better than we both expected and I've just been riding that motivation still through this one.

by the hand

17 weeks from now, I will take that stage.

And yesterday was the first time of late that I've truly felt like a competitor. I felt strong and confident yesterday during what workout routine I could do. Staying up late on New Years was a disruption to my sleep schedule from which I couldn’t seem to recover. I think I had a bit of a winter bug follow me thereafter for a few days making for much nausea during intense training. So I ended up just training abs for a bit.

I’ve been reading a Puritan prayer/devotions book of late, “The Valley of Vision”. One of the more stand-out prayers so far is called “The Divine Will” in which the following has stood out immensely for me;
Prayers arising from my needs are preparations for future mercies:
Help me to honour thee by believing before I feel,
for great is the sin if I make feeling a cause of faith.

Speaking to so many aspects of my life, I can think of so many instances where I have held onto emotion or whatever is tangential in defiance of where I should be building my hope. Spirituality is in no way mutually exclusive to my life being a competitor. I have great aims as an athlete but each daydream and every plan of action is tempered by my relationship with God. Apart from Him, I stand as a weak fool.
More evident this week has been the imperative of belief. In my last check-in, Kristi and I centered our discussion of my doubts around my ability to stick to my meal plan. My doubt and insecurity is more than an elephant in the room, it’s become the invisibility cloak under which I hide, the screams through the megaphone of my subconscious.
Any moment for peace in solitude is usurped and overrun by this cruel dictator. It wasn’t that long ago where cardio wasn’t dreaded for the inherent demands of intense physical effort of speed and endurance. It was the question of if once again, I’d find myself in tears as I fought for mental strength to quiet my anxieties.
I’ve worked so much harder in these last few days to summon more courage, and success in this is drawn from seeking God and clinging to His Word. But above all that, believing enough to not just read but follow through in daily action of having more respect for the woman He’s created, and the way He has designed for her to live. Naturally, this has led to pruning of behaviors and relationships.

Kristi has asked me to take one day at a time, and one week at a time. It may seem ridiculous to those who don’t struggle the way I have been, but I felt that familiar demon shake me inside. Bringing to mind years of failure. But my coach holds onto a stronger opinion of me and my potential than I held at the time.
Time to fight with new weapons.

I created a new background for my phone, reminding me of where I have been strong with nutrition in the past. And it wasn’t found in my last competition season, but this summer in fighting my eating disorder.

I believe that eating disorders (like that of which I’ve struggled, and not a much more serious kind rooting in a true chemical imbalance) are not an issue of behavior with food and refusal to eat sensibly. But a symptom of entrapment in dysfunctional beliefs about oneself and how to manage personal thought and behavior. Change the faulty thoughts, and behaviors must eventually change.
During my efforts to heal, I learned that 50% of bulimics never recover. This shocked me terribly; it was the line in the sand for me. I refused to become a part of that statistic and used that as a weapon against negative thoughts and desires.
And it worked. It was the tool I needed, not the statistic but the change of intention.
And here, I’m holding to a new intention for myself as a competitor. How many people try and not make to stage? How many get there, but are not ready? How many sacrifice the wrong things to only find themselves never reaching their potential.
I refuse to be one of them.

I’m no longer competing to earn someone’s approval or validation. The only one I compete for is me. I’ve not felt so strong standing alone before.
I’ve isolated and pitied myself in vain most of my life. And that’s a haunting and disturbing truth of who I’ve been. But now that I’m no longer counting on a rescuer for my life and my worth as a person, I can face anything already feeling whole inside because of the One in whom I hold my faith and hope.
It’s so empowering to finally believe that everything I need, I find in Christ.
That value as a person, in my situation, is found not when some man rides in to my life and claims me. A notion I clung to since childhood. But no effort apart from humility of spirit and surrender could have ever made that truth real me.

I look forward to ever increasing strength as a woman and as a competitor.

a different breed

126 days

Just under 18 weeks now. I feel like I’ve made some great changes in the last week-and-a-half. Inside and out. At the last check-in, Kristi brought down my calories and increased my cardio to a much more demanding level. And honestly, I’m much happier. The more that’s required of me, the better I perform. Weight has come down and a few people are noticing, which makes things even easier.

I’ve also had more motivation to take better care of the way I look. Not for the sake of impressing someone, but to prevent certain feared circumstances. Last Friday I finally put in my first workout with Dr. Brian, whom I’ve been communicating with but not yet met. I haven’t wanted to update any of my Facebook pictures to anything which reflects how I’ve looked lately. It’s been bad enough with the response a few people have had to seeing me in person; I haven’t wanted to admit it to the internet community so much. It shouldn’t have been a big deal, I think putting off meeting him for so long allowed for excessive over-thinking. I’m actually kind of laughing at myself for the all the effort I put into getting myself to look halfway decent again. If nothing else, at least it was needed motivation which has paid off in feeling much better about my appearance.

See, the big fear was that he’d be expecting this toned figure and be so disappointed he’d make some awful face or comment the way a few other guys around here have. A few strong memories of (unrelated) events came back of when I had met guys for blind dates and they had made a horrible face upon meeting me. One even turned around and walked away. Granted, this was during my “ugly duckling” phase growing up, but you could see how it might lead a girl to a bit of trepidation even as an adult. Again, as much as a certain client might wish for, it wasn’t a date. Simply two professionals with similar interests looking to meet for mutual business gains.
All of that anticipation to the pleasant end of a great workout and a grimace-free meeting. He even praised me on my “impressive” strength and work ethic.

What I have been surprised to learn is how differently men and women seem to respond to the difficulty of the off-season balance for a competitor. I thought perhaps women would be harder on each other, but I come to see that men have been much more obvious with their opinions whether they express them verbally or with body language.
Kristi keeps reminding me that, despite my feelings, I’m not the worst of all failures. I’m grateful for the friends here who have been kind and encouraging. They don’t see, or at least they claim not to see, what I see.

And what I see, has been humiliating enough to keep me in near seclusion. Sadly, I’ve kept my social life to a nil because of the way I look. Since I haven’t had anything in my closet that fits, I haven’t wanted to expose myself to further embarrassment in buying bigger clothes again and going to parties and events where I’d feel just as I did in high school. The fat girl in class.

iPhysique had their annual holiday party for which I sat with increasing amounts of stress as the night approached. I thought about all the potential for pictures with other competitors, all the awkward conversation, and an entire evening of feeling out of place. I knew myself well enough that sitting with such extended periods of high anxiety would surely lead to binging when I got home.
Hannah, one of the trainers here at the gym, was assembling the slide show for the evening of our teams year. She had two pictures of me in there. One from Seven Feathers this last October. I was counting on no one wanting to take pictures of me since I wasn’t competing and was feeling rather bad about my weight gain, so I put no effort into looking nice at all. The picture is of me in the hotel room laughing with Hannah and Colby. I look pudgy to say the least. The next in the slide show series was one of my pictures from my post-show photo shoot with David Aboody. Lighting, make up, and 40 less pounds. After previewing the collection with Hannah in the gym, it was the deciding factor to me not making an appearance in person. I feared no one would associate the girl in the picture with the one at the party.

So I guess that takes me to this next week ahead, New Years Eve. One of the girls from the team has invited me to her party and even let me borrow one of her dresses. I was surprised to be able to squeeze into it. How can I still manage such a small dress size? The dress is labeled a four, but it has a bit of give to it. I also tried on her 6 and 8. They all fit actually. I don’t know what to think for the upcoming party. I just can’t keep excluding myself, I can’t keep letting my fear and anxiety win.
All I can do is train and diet the best I can as each week passes. Unfortunately, this has not been one of my better weeks for diet. I binged on candy on Christmas eve, at things I’m allergic to on Christmas as well. I’ve been on quite the roller-coaster. But with strong resolve, I’m pushing into the fight with vigor. Not allowing myself to run from it.

Each time I lean in to the discomfort, it pays off. Whether it’s refusing to give into my desire to buy peanut butter or taking a chance on exposing myself to someone’s potentially negative reaction. It’s going to be a long road to build my confidence back up where it used to be. As long as the foundation is better than ever and my roots are dug deeply in the knowledge of who I am in Christ and the woman He wants me to be, the time however long is worth traversing.

The past can only empower you when you stop wishing it were any different

137 days until I'm onstage again.

You don't see the "if" in that statement, but it sits somewhere in the phrase like an optical illusion only I know about. There's another part of that doubtful side of me that wants to assure me there are a few in my environment with the same vision.
I can't keep entertaining those ideas though. I know they only serve to strengthen those negative feelings. But isn't that the hardest part of any fight?

Guess the following would be the main reason for blogging the next 19 ½ weeks, to keep an upper hand on my darker thoughts. Hopefully, also offering anything positive for those who may follow. It’s one of the motivations that kept me working hard during my last prep, inspiring others to have more confidence as they pursue their dreams. I do believe that God wastes no amount of pain, especially for those who love Him. So therefore, my belief also must lead me to the conclusion that good will come from one of the hardest summers I’ve been through. Good not only for myself but for others as well.

I found much duality in my motivations for competing last spring. I found I needed so much validation from people. I didn’t so much have an answer for the realization of maintaining an external locus of identity and worth. My persistence to succeed in my endeavors was sponsored by an altruistic desire to inspire and guide others but also more deeply, a need to be seen as worthy by those I’d foolishly convinced myself had more power in my life than I did.

Well, all that came crashing down rather suddenly over the summer. My response to the collapse is what keeps my doubt in myself thriving, though. I had convinced myself that I’d be so much stronger for the process of dieting, training, and competing that I’d never battle these personal demons and be defeated by them again. I guess not only was my logic flawed then, but also the way I regard myself now. If I consider where I am now “defeated”, my future for the next five months is secure.

Am I not the classic example of an external processor? Streaming consciousness, yet explaining nothing and leaving out all context.

I just hate admitting everything. But Brene Brown comforts with the following observations:
"Shame is an epidemic in our culture. And to get out from underneath it, to find our way back to each other.... we have to understand and know empathy, because empathy's the antidote to shame. If you put shame in a Petri dish, it needs three things to grow exponentially: secrecy, silence and judgment. If you put the same amount of shame in a Petri dish and douse it with empathy, it can't survive. The two most powerful words when we're in struggle: me too.

And so I'll leave you with this thought. If we're going to find our way back to each other, vulnerability is going to be that path..." (http://cultureofempathy.com/References/Experts/Brene-Brown.htm)

I made mistakes I promised myself would never be repeated. Chasing the approval of a man, when I told myself I’d never bend over backwards to appease that cursed flaw of a woman’s character again. I allowed myself to so need validation, that rejection ushered in self-destruction. But without giving too much credit to the opposite sex, it wasn’t just failed attempts at love and dating.

When a few specific people I had in mind (mainly clients and friends) for responding well to my efforts resulting in they themselves working harder for their goals; yet in turn responded negatively, I was blindsided. Some people were even so upfront with their admission of their feelings, they told me they were “too intimidated” to speak to me or work with me anymore. As if I had achieved some level of stature or changed so much from who I was that’d I’d have no tolerance for common weakness. A weakness I felt I still possessed.

The final nail for me was when a client fired me, claiming I was either intentionally or inadvertently via willing omission of responsibility, trying to harm her. It was at that point, I felt like my world had entirely crumbled. All of my biggest fears realized when my coping mechanisms reverted back to binging and purging. I subsequently lost weeks, if not months to an inability to regain control over my thoughts and actions.

Before the end of fall, I had not only regained all the weight I had lost for show, but probably added another ten pounds to that. By that time I had already started seeking help, not only from my coach but also my old counselor. And so began the common anecdote of two steps forward, one step back.

At this point, I wouldn’t say I’ve made too much progress in reducing the weight I’ve gained. A feeling of failure rings through me persistently. I had one of my bi-weekly check-ins with coach Kristi yesterday, and was unable to hold back an onslaught of sadness and tears. With many changes to my lifestyle as far as increasing exercise and reducing food intake, little improvement has been made.

I thought at least some would be seen by decreasing from near daily binges to once (sometimes twice) per week and somewhat intense cardio to daily hitting my goal, I’d see more than a few pounds lost.

One credit I can give is that I’ve always considered myself a resilient person. I’ve always seen myself get back up from the worst I’ve been dealt. I think however, this has been the hardest resurfacing I’ve ever attempted. I guess that has to be expected with regard to how low I got this summer. I gave up on myself near entirely. I almost quit my career as a trainer and threw out healthy living completely.
I spent night after night; face down on my apartment floor crying for God to answer me. But I was met with silence. I’d go to the gym to fight with anything I had left and return to the floor and prayer… and silence. My binging and purging was not limited to my apartment, but also the gym bathroom, having the place to myself afforded the actions I took.

Thankfully, it wasn’t too long before I started to remember one of my favorite stories from the Bible. In Mark 5, Jesus is called upon during his travels and healings by a father of a dying young girl. Frantic, the father pleads with Jesus for immediate response. But the Lord takes His time in returning with the father to his home. Days pass and by the time Jesus kneels by the girl’s bed, she is already dead. Mysteriously, Jesus tells the father that she is only sleeping. But speaks to her “Talitha koum” which has been translated to mean “daughter” or “little girl”, “arise”.

This story resonated with me so deeply looking over the events of this past season of my life. I didn’t get a response from God as soon as I had wanted. But those two words repeated in my mind daily. I knew the Lord was telling me to get back up. I took it also to mean that though it looked like I was dead to everything I wanted to accomplish in my life, I would soon rise again.

And so that hope is what I stand on today. I sometimes feel strong, most times I’m clawing through the day. But I’m not giving up. I believe in “un-quitting” as I call it. I suck more at quitting than I do succeeding, so at least there’s that.

If I believe that God has a future and a hope for me, than no amount of heartbreak or self-harm can hold me back from that.