Clearly, it’s been awhile since I’ve paid attention to the blog. Life finally slowed down after a chaotic summer and early fall, and as with many things, once you lose momentum it’s hard to pick it up and keep going again. I’ve lost some motivation, and while I can’t put my finger on one specific thing as the cause, I think it’s simply that it gets tiring making good choices day after day. I’ve changed a lot of habits, but not all; I’ve changed some patterns of thinking, but not all. And so I slip, one bite or sip at a time. The eating starts to get less healthy. As the pounds go back on, I feel bad about myself, and the desire to be exercising in public wanes. The days are getting shorter, the air is getting colder, and it all culminates in a loss of momentum and motivation. Even with the blog, the time and energy to sit and write is being eaten up by an overriding desire to sleep or read or rest. And most of the topics in the queue all require research. Research takes more time. Some of the writing I’ve been doing is actually journaling, personal and too private to share on the blog. That’s because it’s homework that Mat’s given me to try and kickstart the motivation. Sometimes the question being asked is way more important than the answers. So, as I work privately on writing my homework, I can at least share the assignment!

I want you to think about the why's of exercise and what it really means to you when you set goals. I want you to find ‘the will of fire’ (it’s what I like to call it). I want you to think back to that feeling when you have accomplished something that you may have not thought you could do. I want you to forget about those numbers and remember what makes you "bad-ass."

Write two letters. One to your past self, and one to your future self. What would you tell them to get them motivated? If it helps to get you started, write down 10 things that motivate you in life. Whether or not it’s fitness related, 10 things that you find get you going. Then ask yourself, “where are those things now?” How do you get them back in your life?

Think about whether or not you still want it, your original goals, and what you did and could do, what you are going to do to get there. What if there were no barriers to hold you back? What would the road to your goals look like? The idea behind it is really to ask yourself “what am I going to do to be the best I can?”

The letter to my future self is the much harder one to write. I mean, my past self I know. I’ve been there. In fact, it’s tapping in to that past self that I need to do in order to get that feeling back: what it felt like to lose weight in the first place, what it felt like to surprise myself, and what it felt like to believe in a goal of health (versus the vanity of trying to manipulate my body for looks). Fortunately, I’ve got a lot of writing – including the past year of the blog – to return to. And if I could go back into the past, well before starting this journey, I’d tell myself that it’s never too late to start. But whoo-boy would it ever be easier if I’d started earlier! It only gets harder the further you go. Which, in itself, is a good incentive for me to keep going. Climbing out of a backwards slide isn’t any easier than starting in the first place.

What Mat’s tapped into is the concept of writing your story. It’s more than just writing your goals. Creating a character of who you want to be, and examining you are, and who you were. Not unlike the practice of writing your eulogy as a way of goal setting – what do you want people to say about you when you die? Start with that, then figure out what you need to do now, in life, to get there – writing a letter to my future self is a reconnection with my story.

It’s well documented that expressive writing helps to process deep emotions. An article in Time reiterated the psychological benefits of putting paper to pen. “what is it about writing that calms the mind and helps us heal emotionally? There are no solid answers but there’s plenty of research showing the human mind needs meaning — a story to make sense of what has happened. Only then can it rest. Writing forces you to organize your thoughts into a coherent structure. It helps you make sense of life.”

A similar article popped up on a list of the best fitness articles of the week, last week. How To Take Charge of Your Motivation. Aside from some obvious advice, like write it down and choose one focussed (and honest) goal, the author writes “Friedrich Nietzsche said that he who has a strong enough why can bear any how. This is critical as you’ll undoubtedly encounter resistance and setbacks along the way to achieving anything worthwhile. If your why isn’t built on a solid foundation of personal meaning on an emotional level, it becomes far easier to abandon your goal whenever difficulties arise.”

At this point in time, I’ve lost sight of my original goals, which were probably pretty unrealistic to begin with. I’m working to tap back into the motivation that’s taken a vacation and to find my WHY.

It's been awhile since I've spent a Sunday in the gym, "working out." Sometimes I'll go for the lane swim. I've tried the morning yoga class. But, more often, Sunday is the day that I do things with friends and it's very often active. Especially in the summer.

This weekend I tried kayaking. It had been planned for some time, but with the cold, rainy weather we've had lately, I didn't think it would happen. As it turns out, it was a great day to be outside, on a little lake, enjoying nature and one of the last days of summer weather. It couldn't have been more perfect.

It hasn't been deliberate, equating Sundays with trying new active things, or getting together with friends in fit and healthy ways. It's usually because it's the one day of the week that people have off work and are able to make plans.

But I got thinking about the spiritual side of exercise. Finding Fitness. Is it a little like finding religion? I mean, what do people get out of spirituality? They get a direction for their life, a purpose. They get strength. Sometimes they get a social group out of it, because you're with like-minded people. Most often, they get peace, a way to find an inner calm in a society of chaos.

"Working out" doesn't always do that for me. However, physical activity DOES. It's why I think it's really important to find something that you enjoy. The working out in the gym allows me to do these fun, adventurous things with people in my leisure time. On occasion, the gym IS the social aspect, or what I accomplish doing something hard or something new or something fun in a workout IS the peace or confidence I'm seeking.

And the physical strength that I build in the gym translates pretty directly to an increase in overall strength: emotionally, mentally, and - yes - spiritually. In a recent article about female bodybuilders, Dani Shugart wrote why women train, even when they're not entering competitions: "We train for mental clarity. We train because the goal of fat loss is soul-sucking, cliché, and mostly unenjoyable. We train because we'd rather look like Wonder Woman than Barbie. We train to be the type of woman nobody wants to mess with. We train to build grit. We train for habitual excellence. We train for ourselves."

I guess it really all works together. The pursuit of fitness is the purpose and direction I'm trying to base my life around, and I get a lot of the same benefits out of it that many people do by pursuing religion. It supports and enhances all other aspects of my life.

Why this never occurred to me before, I don't know. I only made the connection yesterday when, in a conversation with Mat about having to decide how much I have time to do and what I can afford to pursue, he reminded me (again), that I am not doing this for him. I don't exercise for anyone else, I do it for myself. "You find what works physically, financially, spiritually, etc." he told me.

Spiritually.
That word jumped out at me. Seemed a bit odd and out of place, but the more I think about it, the more sense it makes.

Fitness is becoming my new religion. And I can worship anywhere.

Endurance. Mental strength. Drive. Determination. Willpower. My mind has been occupied with the concept of pushing yourself, all weekend. So much so that I am compelled to write it out just to make sense of it all.

It started even before Friday's disaster of a workout. On Thursday, I had a personal training session with Mat. Nothing out of the ordinary, except for a conversation in between sets. "We gotta talk about yesterday. You might be getting too comfortable." I couldn't think of what I had done at Wednesday's Outdoor Fitness Challenge that would elicit that comment. "Think. What did you say?" I thought hard. Oh, right. One of two things that will always get a rise, an immediate reaction from him: either 'no' or 'I can't.' I had said, "I can't" and when he'd growled "what did you say?" instead of taking it back the way clients usually do, or trying just a wee bit harder, I repeated it loudly and clearly: "I SAID I CAN'T."

Mat admitted that I don't do it often enough to be a pattern, so maybe it wasn't a matter of me getting so comfortable with him that I was sassing him or being disrespectful. It's been a trend he's noticed lately with many clients and others at the gym. Maybe it's because in summer we're in mental vacation mode. It's hard to give maximum effort when you're tired, when you're looking forward to time off, or when schedules all around you are in flux. And because he's seeing it everywhere, he zeroed in on it when I did it, too. I explained to him that it wasn't a personal reflection on his coaching. At that specific moment, I really couldn't do any more of what he was asking. We'd just finished a leg crank, it was nearing the end of boot camp, and he had us holding a squat for as long as we could. My legs were burning, my knees were aching, everything was shaking, and I stood up pretty quickly out of the squat and said, "I can't." What I meant was "I can't keep holding it." It wasn't "I can't, EVER." It wasn't "I can't do it at all." It wasn't "I won't." It was "I can't hold this pose without standing up and then going back down, but if you're asking me to hold for as long as I can, at this very moment I can't hold it any longer." But all I said, and what he heard, was just "I can't."

In our discussion of it the next day, I realized that there are specific times and activities where I'm more likely to say "no" whether it's to myself or to the person telling me what to do. I roll my eyes and shake my head a lot in spin class (especially when they say "hill climbs"). I allow myself to get annoyed and cut a swim short when the lanes are busy and someone comes into 'my' lane. When I try to run and the shin and knee pain kick in fast, I stop immediately and say "see? I can't run" instead of pushing through, or doing a run-walk combo to build up the skill. I am not putting in my maximum effort. It's not a reflection of Mat. But maybe it's more of a problem than I realized, because until he pointed it out, that "can't" was a total non-issue in my mind. I didn't even question it. Slump? What slump? There's no slump, here.

And then, well, Friday happened.

Sunday was a great day. I finally made it out to Grand River Rocks to try climbing. I'd only ever done it once, at camp. That was over a year ago. But in order to build grip strength, and really work the mind as much as muscle, there's nothing quite like rock climbing. Two friends had just done the belaying course and had a two-week pass where they could bring a friend for free. I got to be that friend, and it was awesome. I think I'm hooked. Captain Cautious was gentle with me, explaining everything, assuring me that I didn't have to make it to the top, I should just do what was comfortable. But in my mind, the challenge was to the top, or not at all. I didn't care how long it took me, I was just gonna make it. And, it was far easier than the first attempt at camp. We climbed in different ways, on different walls. I always did the easiest levels, but I could make it to the top each time. And each time, when I was about 3/4 of the way up, the thought crossed my mind "okay, you're good, you can go back down now." I had to decide to keep on going. When we tried bouldering, that's where the fear kicked in for me. You're not harnessed in, so if you fall, you fall off the wall. There's tons of padding and it looks like it would be hard to hurt yourself, but knowing me, and knowing my knees, just landing on them the wrong way could be disastrous. I went up that thing with the mantra in my mind that I could NOT fall, though near the top I started to think about what would happen if I did. It was in the coming down that the true fear kicked in, both because I was high up and because my body could feel that there was a slope down. Once I was climbing down backwards, it was better, but I couldn't see where I was going. It was not a debilitating fear, I never got stuck, but I'm not sure that the heart rate was due to the cardio and effort required. Pretty sure it was pure adrenaline. I trust the harnesses and the gear to keep me safe. I do not trust my own body! Still, the point with climbing is to make it to the top, to build strength, and especially to challenge yourself by trying harder and harder routes. Somewhere, each of us has a voice inside that will say yes or no to things. That will allow you to quit or to keep going. Climbing tested that, and I kept going.

The BadAss Dash is coming up quickly. It weighs heavily on my mind, as I see photos on Facebook of each weekend race, from Ottawa and York Region and across North America. I see what kinds of obstacles I may face. Truth be told, these are not elite or overly demanding tasks. Thousands of people participate every weekend. The goal of the race is not to be good, not to have the fastest time, but simply to finish. To just keep going and complete the course. There's far less pressure when you go in with that mentality.

Endurance was my main focus on Monday as I swam. It was a civic holiday, so there were no classes at the Y and it was modified hours, but the pool was open for lane swims for 3.5 hours. I tried to time it so that I'd be there when the fewest number of folks were taking up the lanes. The last few times I'd tried to swim, I made it for about 20 minutes before getting annoyed and getting out. The lanes are not wide enough in the leisure pool for two people to swim in, the way they are at many of the City pools I'm used to, and you inevitably hit each other as you go back and forth. So, I was chagrined to see that all the lanes were taken up when I got there, and two of them were by walkers! No lie. At least they didn't have pool noodles, but if you're going to walk and lunge back and forth, you don't need a lane for it, you can use the parts of the oddly-shaped pool that are off to the sides. Fortunately, a lady called to me and said, "I'm almost done here, do you want this lane?" And, for the next hour, nobody else came who was lane swimming. There were a few more floaters and a family with kids who stayed in the shallow whirlpool area, but I had the lanes to myself. No excuses.

My goal was 100 lengths, or about an hour. When I got in, I negotiated with myself, "okay, minimum half an hour, then you can see." I already didn't want to do it. I should mention here that 100 lengths is not all that impressive; it's a 20 metre pool. At one time I was hitting 100 lengths of the more standard 25 m pools, in under an hour. But since I'd joined the Y and have been doing more dry-land exercise, I'm out of practice and out of the swimming habit, so it had been a long time since I've reached that number. This was going to be more of an endurance game than a cardio workout. If it was just about heart rate or speed, I'd do sprints in under half the time and get out and be on my way. No. This was mental preparation for the Dash, and to see if I could break the "no" habit I'd gotten into with cardio. This swim was all about not quitting.

The first 40 lengths were quick and easy. I'd been doing about that much all along. And that's usually the time when I'd tell myself I'd done enough and could get out. The next 30 were the toughest. I was tired. Bored. Had done the all different strokes I usually move between. Did some more legs-only. When I need a bit of a break I often do arms-only breast stroke, because it's slower than the full-body front crawl or back crawl, but after the day of climbing my forearms were sore so breast stroke was not much of a "break." The last 20 lengths are always where the magic happens, because you're nearing the end. I can picture the number of lengths going down. The finish line is in sight, and I get a second wind to push through and go just a bit faster. Where does the power and energy come from, and why isn't it there in the middle? I imagine that runners go through something similar. It's just one length at a time. One step at a time. One stroke at a time.

Endurance. I'm better at that than at speed. And that's what I was thinking about as I swam. When the goal is just to finish - whether it's to make it to 100 lengths, or to get to the top of a wall, or to cross a race finish line - I know I can do it. I visualize it. I can break it down into small parts. One length. One rock. One step. One obstacle. One at a time. I can do it because the goal is to keep going. And when you need that little break or slow down, you allow yourself to take the pause, because you're not stopping.  You don't care if you're affecting your time. You simply catch your breath and then tap in to the energy you reserved. You just.keep.going. When it's about speed, I tire out and give up way too early. Very few of those 100 lengths were fast, at my full capacity to push.

When Mat and I talked about the times I say no to him, or to myself, we realized that it's mostly on steady-state cardio (boring! repetitive!) or things which I don't enjoy doing, which is the high-intensity maximum-effort drills. It's almost never with weights, because I like how I feel when I can do them. I like what I get emotionally out of it. And, while it may be hard in the moment, I know that as soon as I put the weight down, it's over. The pain or high heart rate or effort stops. Endurance-based activities which are all about finishing, period, I am less likely to give him grief over because I can slack or back off. I don't have to give maximum effort the entire time, I just have to get 'er done.

Crap. What does that say about me? I don't like to work hard? I don't wanna have to give maximum effort because it's uncomfortable when my heart is about to thump out of my chest and the sweat is pouring into my eyes? That's what it comes down to. And what I think contributed to Friday's meltdown.

There's still an inherent laziness that underlies all of this for me.
It's what got me to 270 lbs in the first place.
It's what is holding me back now.
I'll work, but I don't like to work THAT hard.

Is it possible to have some drive, some determination, a wee bit of willpower, or just enough mental strength to endure ... and to still be lazy? How do you learn to not quit? How do you find a true desire, a WANT to push yourself to a breaking point? I honestly don't know. And therein lies the tug-of-war struggle.

What Mat is seeing is the mid-point between old me, and potential me. The me I kinda think I want to be, but am not sure I *can* be. I'm past the point at the beginning of weight loss journeys, where the hurdles are habit and just showing up to try. I've got that. I try hard enough to get by. It's pushing myself into discomfort - out of that "comfort zone" - and doing it on a regular basis. That's the only way I'm going to get out of the stalled slump of a plateau I've been in for a year and to see continued change.

The real question is: how badly do I want it?
Enough to truly overcome laziness?
Or am I just going to finish the race?

Tosca Reno is singin' my song, in a recent Huffington Post article called "The Pornographication of Fitness needs to stop." Reno is the queen of Clean Eating, and is currently promoting a sugar detox with a Strike Sugar Challenge. But this article speaks to a much more balanced approach to fitness than what she has experienced from the belly of the beast. (Pun intended). She has been a "bikini girl, clad in what was essentially panties and bra, standing on a fitness booth, hawking fitness gear and the lifestyle, exposing my well-toned thighs and abdomen to the general public." And from her inside vantage point, fitness was far more about sex than it was about strength or health.

Mat and I have disagreed about how motivating or negative "fitspiration" can be. I see it as using highly sexualized images of women to promote fitness, often with quotes attached which seem motivating until you deconstruct what they're really saying. He sees it from the body builder's perspective, because he knows how hard the people in the photos have worked to get themselves to fitness-model levels of preparedness. Tosca Reno's argument about how fitness is portrayed in the media covers both angles, addressing head-on the issue of making fitness into something sexual. 

Gazing at images of caricatured breasts, buttocks and biceps gives you the impression this is how a fit body should look, that every fit body needs to be shaped in the same vein. Fitness magazines use exactly these images to "inspire" women to look this way. Yet most of us can't identify with what we are looking at because we don't believe ordinary us could ever be them.

What we don't realize is that when we are looking at the faces and bodies of women in these physique magazines, is that most of them have dieted for months to look that way. Or most of them are just days prior to a contest where they have put themselves through rigorous training and dieting to get lean enough.  Or they have just competed and won't look the same in a few days time.

In other words, she is acknowledging both Mat's view and mine: those bodies were hard-earned. They are not fake, they are real people. AND they are simultaneously not realistic expectations, even for the women who live in those bodies, because they represent one very specific moment in time. A moment which is often well lit, professionally photographed, perfectly posed and positioned, and oiled to highlight every bulge and fibre line. When those women take off the high heels, go home and relax hours later, do they even look as fit or as buff as they do in the photos? Yet these are the images that are ubiquitously used for inspiration.

Perhaps from my vantage point of 55 years of age, one willingly accepts that there is more to fitness than pornography. Somehow the butt-baring image just doesn't work after a time. So what then is the new direction of fitness? If you ask me, the key to fitness is being able to move your body in the way it was meant to move.

It means you can run, jump, swim, play, bend, walk and lift with all parts of your body from joints, muscles and bones to hands and feet, all body parts working in unison. It means that if you had to run 5K to get away from danger, if you had to swim for 20 minutes to save yourself in a flood, if you had to lift a heavy weight out of the way to free yourself, something or someone else, you could do it. 

The new fitness trend is not about prostituting yourself but about doing the hard work measured in reps, sets and sweat to create a body, an entire organism engineered to sustain itself in this brave new world. It means you can help yourself -- not be dependent on someone else. It means you train differently, think intelligently, respect powerfully, sensing a new strength in yourself that comes not from the desire to have a cutie booty but a strong one that can move when it has to, along with the rest of the magnificent machine called YOU. 

Being fit in a functional rather than sexual way means you are entirely capable of being powerful no matter what your height, bust size, shoe size or hair color. You are empowered from the depths of your DNA because you did the work, you earned your place and you walk confidently because of it. A functionally fit You welcomes all sizes, shapes and colors, your boobs and butt are incidental.  What we really need to build in the gym is a sense of self and what we are capable of. Believe it!

She concludes that the pursuit of sexiness stops being important. Her definition of fitness - something functional, based on what your body can do - is in line with what I'm trying hard to believe 100% of the time. I believe it about 85% ... but when I am surrounded by so many images of sexiness, it's hard not to aspire to look like them. It's the 15% of me that still buys in to fitness-as-synonym-for-sex that stands up and applauds Tosca Reno for voicing her philosophy so eloquently.

We all need role models and heros. We need to have people to look to, who give us hope. We especially need to see ourselves represented in order to begin to believe.

Last night, on American Ninja Warrior, Kacy Catanzaro became that person for a lot of women, myself included. She proved that the impossible dream was possible. On what could easily be dismissed as a cheesy summer reality TV show, she became the first woman ever - on either the American or Japanese versions - to complete the second round and qualify for Mount Midoriyama.

If you are not familiar with the show, let me catch you up: that's a really, really, really big deal. On American Ninja Warrior some of the best athletes and competitors attempt some pretty gruelling obstacle-course style challenges. There are qualifying rounds, then finals, and if you're good - like, superhuman GOOD - you go to Mount Midoriyama. Nobody has ever completed the third round and made it to the top in the 5 seasons of the American version of the show that originated in Japan. Few Japanese have made it to the top. It may provide eye-candy style summer entertainment for viewers, but this is an intense and elite athletic competition.

It's the only show I watch live, putting up with the commercials, sitting in suspense on the edge of my couch. It was worth it to witness history being made. Knowing that Mat also watches the show, I texted him when she did it: "it's a good thing you can't see me right now, because I am crying." I wasn't sure why it was such an emotional moment for me. For her? Sure. Obvious. It was the culmination of years of training and three years of trying and not qualifying on the show. But why was *I* so invested in her accomplishment?

Before her run began, I told Mat "...a win is good for all women. It helps when you see someone representing you be able to do something. Then it stops being a big deal and people start to accept that women can do it, and attitudes change. Kinda like how now it's normal for women to lift, when it used to be odd or unusual."

In her pre-interview, Kacy said pretty much the same thing: "I feel like getting to the top of the warped wall and hitting the buzzer has kind of been almost like this impossible dream for women, and it's been amazing to prove that wrong. I know that there are so many amazing women out there, and I think they just kinda needed that extra push to say 'hey, someone else has done it, I know that can do it, too' and I'm glad I can be that person."

The announcers summed it up even more succinctly, when she became the first woman to conquer the Warped Wall: "she changed our view of what women can do."

See, we tell ourselves that women can do anything. (At least, I do). To truly believe it, most of us need proof. Kacy didn't need to see anyone else do it before her, she had complete faith in her ability to complete the course. That's rare. Amazing. But rare.

To believe, you have to be able to visualize it. And when there haven't been external images to support what you think or hope or believe in theory, it leaves room for a seed of doubt. Can women actually do it? Now we know. Yep. They can. In the same way thatwomen can do push-ups, and pull-ups, even if there aren't proportionately the same numbers as men or the odds aren't in our favour.

And that's one of the great things about American Ninja Warrior. Women haven't been excluded from trying. Competitors recognize other athletes and welcome their attempts. That women are less represented on the show is more likely because fewer try out than men. Each year, those numbers have risen, and as more women show up to try it, the odds increased that one of them would make it. I am sure that many of the women who stood in lines to try and qualify for the show did it because they saw other women do the same thing the year before. While lots of little boys watch this show and aspire to be like their heroes (as one kid excitedly told me in a class visit), now the girls who watch have someone to look up to as well.

Seeing yourself represented is crucial to feeling connected. When most picture book illustrations show white kids by default, and other races only if the story is specifically about colour or culture, that creates a disconnect for everyone. We inadvertently teach that white is the norm, and everything else is "other." The impact of fatness not being represented in the media comes through loud and clear on this blog. When the fat girl typically plays the sidekick, the funny friend, the desperate butt of the joke, fat girls everywhere internalize that message. Even with all the Melissa McCarthy films and shows lately, she is still playing the can't-get-a-date, gotta-be-crude-to-get-attention, gee-isn't-it-funny-when-she-tries-to-hit-on-men characters. Where are the roles where the fat girl finds a love interest? When her TV show, Mike and Molly, first came out there was quite an uproar over people not wanting to have to watch two fatties kiss. The fact that it was so abnormal to see fat people in love, living their lives, doing anything at all ... while still being fat ... shone a bright light on how invisible we've been, and why it's important to show all kinds of people, with traits that different groups identify with. Representation in media makes an impact. Even when that representation is based on skill, and not on bias.

Women on American Ninja Warrior don't fall into that invisible category anymore. Kacy is an elite athlete, a nationally ranked competitive gymnast. She has trained and conditioned herself to do things most of us could never do (or would never do, without that same level of conditioning). That's not the point. I'm not pretending that "if she can do it, I can do it." What got me last night, watching her hit the buzzer and be one of only seven to even finish the course - the top 15 move on to Mount Midoriyama but only 7 actually finished it, and she did - what got me was that she did something that many equally strong, equally trained, equally conditioned men could not do. 

She made it much more difficult for women to say "can't" with credibility.
She made it possible to envision completing that course, and as more women visualize it, more women will do it.
She made what used to seem an impossible dream, possible.

Because she made it.

Maya Angelou passed away today. Given that she was such a prolific and inspirational writer, a fighter for all human rights, and someone who overcame tremendous obstacles, it's little wonder that her quotes are appearing just about everywhere.

I don't know that she ever talked specifically about health or fitness or working out, but she sure talked a lot about strength and courage and endurance and living your best life.

So, however they are interpreted, her words are worth re-sharing.

You may have seen this post, called 10+ Reasons I Love My Ugly Body. In the health and fitness Facebook realm, it's gone viral. For good reason.

She espouses everything I aim to be: fit, healthy, strong, and honest. Honest about trying to love her body, even when she doesn't succeed 100% of the time. She lost 164 lbs. She is a fitness trainer herself. She is a triathlete. And she has saggy skin, and still carries fat. She may very well be my new hero and role model

She is another example of real weight loss success, and a bikini body worth showing. Especially since she is not merely posing, but is active in her shots, demonstrating her strength and skill.

Makes me want to try a cartwheel and climb a rope!

To get the full effect of her story, you need to see the pictures. I urge you to click and read the original. If the link happens to be overwhelmed because of all the visitors, here's the gist of it:

I sat in my car after personal training today, bawling like a baby.
This is a rare occurrence.

Mat had sent me a link to a video, in an email that just said, "this reminded me of you today." As I watched the clip on my phone, rain pouring down the windshield, the tears came streaming as what he meant sunk in.

This hit me right in the emotions. I think it was because the email came so immediately after the hour of personal training to which Mat was referring, and I watched it before even leaving the YMCA parking lot. So I was relating to it on a deeply personal level.

It was a tough hour with a lot of sweat and very little rest. We were in a multipurpose room all to ourselves, and Mat had pulled out all the toys that told me from the moment we started that this was going to be an intense training. Boxing gloves. Sand bag. Weighted vest. And a no-nonsense, not-here-to-be-your-friend, you'll-do-what-I-tell-you attitude. Dude was out for blood, sweat and tears. He got two out of the three.

I was panting harder than a dog in summer, after 5 minutes of warming up.

Near the end of the hour, he had me planking and pulling the sand bag through, from one end of the room to the other, with 30 mountain climbers at each end. "For every time you put your knee down on the floor, you have to do 30 more mountain climbers," he told me sternly. My shoulders ached. My butt kept sticking too far up in the air, prompting a broken record of "BUTT DOWN, BARB!" from Mat. He doesn't usually use my name, so when he does, I know he's not messing around.

Half way through round two, my shoulders gave out. Or, rather, I let them. Maybe it was my mind that gave out. Despite the consequence of more mountain climbers (meaning more time on my hands, which would tire my shoulders out more), I dropped for a break. "Fuck," I sighed. As I moved back and forth, Mat both encouraged and cajoled, to keep me going. "Don't listen to your mind. Keep going. Keep going." After giving him the extra 30 mountain climbers, and a brief rest, I went for the third round. "Don't let your knees drop. You can do it."

I have to tell you: it was HARD. I could feel the blood pressure in my face, knowing how beet-red it was. My arms shook. I was clinging to that floor for dear life. Gritting my teeth, making every ugly barbarian face imaginable. And I did it. No knees.

Then.
Then he says, "you're almost done. 5 minutes. Russian twists with the sand bag."

I started to laugh. Uncontrollably. I mean, I barely made it through what I thought was the final exercise of the hour. I sat slumped against the wall, unable to feel my upper arms beyond the burn, panting profusely, and he thinks I can slam a 25 pound sand bag from side to side?

"What are you laughing for?" he asked, in all seriousness. "I wouldn't ask you to do it if I didn't think you could." I laughed even harder. He waited. I caught my breath, calmed the giggles, and picked up the sand bag.

And I slammed the hell out of it, back and forth, 30 times.

So, it was in that context that he sent the video. I don't know why it made me cry. I know it was supposed to be inspirational. (Don't worry, Mat; it was. You did good). I know he was proving his point: he knew I could do it, and I did. I just had to get out of my own way and stop doubting myself. It's the kind of thing that makes total sense on a motivational poster. Your body won't go where your mind won't let it. Mind over matter. Believe you can, and you will. We say it often, but do we really mean it? Or do we even recognize the value of fortitude at times other than the big game, the grand finale, the climax of the story?

This was supposed to be just another workout on a wet and rainy Thursday, before going about my regular work day. There was no swelling music in the background. No crowd cheering. No competition. Just Mat, standing there with his arms folded, expecting something of me.

Believe me, I thought every single thing that football player said in the video:
- "it hurts"
- "he's heavy"
- "my arms burn"
- "it's too hard"

And Mat paraphrased the Coach: "Don't tell me you can't give me more than what I've been seeing."

I don't know how we learn to dig deeper and give our actual best, a true 100%. Except that when someone is beside you, believing in you, expecting it from you, even if you think they're nuts, it somehow becomes possible. It is the expectation that smashes the limits you set on your self.

The mind is so powerful. When you give yourself a limit, you work within that limit.

And that's probably why I was crying. Once you realize that you have it in you, you have to face the harsh truth that whatever excuse you give yourself, it's just that: an excuse. It's a lot scarier to admit that you can do more than you think, more than you allow yourself, because then you have to live up to those expectations. Even when it's on a small scale. You raise your own bar. Nobody really wants to ask the question "can I honestly do more? have I done my very best?" because we know the answer.

You can do more. You can always do more.

"Don't quit until you've given your very best. Keep going. Don't give up. It's all heart from here."

Mat proved me wrong today. Well, as he pointed out, I actually proved myself wrong.
I don't usually like to be wrong.
Today, I am okay with it.

What's the point of life? I mean, what makes a fulfilling life? I lamented yesterday that sometimes I feel like my biggest accomplishment is going to be losing weight. So far, it's the thing that seems to have gotten the most attention. In reflecting on what's really important, I keep coming back to this piece that came across my "thought for the day" camp files, way back before the Internet when people emailed these things or <gulp> photocopied and passed them around in the dark ages before the World Wide Web.

Maybe it stuck with me so profoundly because I read it as a teen, at a time when I desperately needed to hear the message. Maybe it's just the easiest way for me to live, because it measures success by something over which we have total control, all the time.

Life's about how you treat people. For me, it's as simple as that.

And it has nothing to do with the scale.

What's it all about?

Life isn’t about keeping score. It’s not about how many friends you have, or how many people call you. Or how accepted you are. Not about if you have plans this weekend, or if you’re alone. It isn’t about who you’re dating, who you used to date, how many people you’ve dated, or if you haven’t been with anyone at all. It isn’t about who you have kissed. It is not about sex. It isn’t about who your family is, or how much money they have. Or what kind of car you drive, or where you are sent to school. It’s not about how beautiful or ugly you are. Or what clothes you wear, what shoes you have on, or what kind of music you listen to. It’s not about if your hair is blonde, red, black, brown, or green. Or if your skin is too light or too dark. Not about what grades you get, how smart you are, how smart everyone else thinks you are, or how smart standardized tests say you are. Or if this teacher likes you, or if this guy/girl likes you. Or what clubs you’re in, or how good you are at “your” sport. It’s not about representing your whole being on a piece of paper and seeing who will accept the written you.

Life.  just.  isn’t.

But life is about who you love and who you hurt. It’s about who you make happy or unhappy purposefully. It’s about keeping or betraying trust. It’s about friendship, used as a sanctity or a weapon. It’s about what you say and mean, maybe hurtful, maybe heartening. About starting rumors and contributing to petty gossip. It’s about what judgements you pass and why. And who your judgements are spread to. It’s about who you’ve ignored with full control and intention. It’s about jealousy, fear, ignorance, and revenge. It’s about carrying inner hate and love, letting it grow and spreading it. But most of all, it’s about using your life to touch or poison other people’s hearts in such a way that could have never occurred alone.

Only you choose the way those hearts are affected.
We are just too powerful in life sometimes.

A slump or "plateau" is not the same as self-sabotage, but they often look the same. When you've been fighting with your weight as long as I have, yo-yo'ing up and down, you start to notice some patterns. I'm in that "on the way back up" phase, where I know I am reverting to old habits, even though I'm not sure why. It's easy enough to point to a more chaotic and stressful period, and a lack of healthy coping skills. Except that I haven't been dieting this time. I've actually been changing lifestyle and habits. So, why do I find myself driving out of my way to get a chocolate bar, or caving in to the voice saying "you NEED that piece of cake"?

Self-sabotage.
Not easy to understand, but apparently a far more common thing than one would think.
In psychological terms, it is cognitive dissonance. Holding opposing beliefs, where the more deeply held belief wins out in the end.

When I hit a big mental wall several months ago, Mat sent me the article below. It was the first time I'd heard such a rational explanation for what seems like an irrational behaviour. The dark side to weight loss that people don't talk about. I revisited the link this week, especially for the reminder of the action options at the very end. What has been interesting and helpful about blogging is how often people say "it's like you are writing about MY life" or "I'm going through the same thing." I know I'm not the only one in a self-sabotaging slump at the moment. In fact, there's a pretty big circle of friends who are actively reaching out and saying "I need help and support and accountability" and I'm like "yeah! me, too - let's get through this together." Maybe it's the interminable winter catching up to us, mentally. Maybe it's that 3-months-past-New-Years-resolutions stage. Maybe it's just a period of change, the lull after the hype and focus of Megathon and March Break when there's a void to fill until the next big project starts. Or, maybe - as Mat suggested - it's just time for a vacation, a change, a shake-up of routine.

Whatever it is, I'm not panicking nearly as much as I did the last time I hit this point in the cycle. I have faith that I'll get myself out of it, if I can just ride it out. Keep showing up at the gym and maintain the habit, even if I'm not enjoying it quite as much or bringing the intensity. Keep trying with the eating, even if I slip - hell, even if I landslide half way down the mountain. In the past, I'd have given up. Let the yo-yo go all the way back to the top and then some. Now? I have better tools. I have support. I have patience to work my way back into the better habits that I had built because they were made on a more solid foundation.

And I understand that I'm not alone in this self-sabotaging behaviour. I just gotta figure out what belief is lurking beneath the surface, what the source of the cognitive dissonance really is.

Without further ado, the article to which I am referring:
"Your body reframed" by Pilar Gerasimo, from Experience Life (an online magazine).

It took a lot of hard work and focused choices. But here you are — perhaps weeks or months into your fitness program — and you’re beginning to see and feel some real results. You’re looking leaner and more fit. Your clothes are fitting looser. You’re feeling lighter, standing taller, moving faster on your feet. Hey, you’re seeing a whole new person when you look in the mirror!

And then, something strange happens. Suddenly, perhaps subtly, you find yourself making choices you used to make, resuscitating less-than-healthy behaviors you thought you’d given up. Bit by bit, you start reclaiming that loose space in your clothing and retreating into the more familiar look and feel of your former, less-fit self.

So what gives? People get derailed from what appear to be successful fitness and weight-loss programs for all sorts of reasons, of course. In some cases, life circumstances or unrealistic expectations are to blame. In other cases, people burn out on overaggressive regimens, or simply fail to transition into sound maintenance programs. But there are also times when people abruptly reverse course for no apparent reason.

In such cases, there’s often an unconscious factor at work, and for anyone who has been working intently toward a fitness goal, the unraveling of all that hard won progress can be both a maddening and mystifying thing to behold. It may seem as though we have a divided self, with one part of us willingly doing the work of getting in shape, and the other part of us busily deconstructing our progress while we’re not looking.

This, according to cognitive psychologist Michael Hall, PhD, is a classic case of “cognitive dissonance,” a psychological phenomenon that arises whenever an individual holds two opposing (i.e., dissonant) thoughts, beliefs, values or goals. In many cases, explains Hall, one of our opposing ideas — or “frames of thought,” as he calls them — might be far less conscious than the other, but still surprisingly powerful. “If left unexamined,” he says, “our unconscious frames may compel us to act in ways we don’t entirely understand — ways diametrically opposed to our more conscious choices.”

A Method to the Madness
The key to understanding and dispelling such problems, according to Hall, lies in recognizing that some part of us is served — or at least thinks it is served — by our self-sabotaging actions. “One part of you may be committed to the idea of losing weight, and be motivated by the idea of looking more attractive and feeling more fit,” Hall explains. “But there may be another part of you that’s not at all convinced this unfamiliar state of being is safe or desirable. It experiences the change as a threat — a danger or challenge to another important value — and so it acts to reverse it.”

When it comes to issues of body shape and body image, though, we may find such reversals particularly perplexing. Why on earth, we might wonder, would any part of us not want to be in the healthiest, most attractive body possible?

Hall, co-founder of the International Association for Neuro-Semantics (www.neurosemantics.com) and coauthor of several books, including Games Slim and Fit People Play  (Neuro-Semantic Publications, 2001) and Secrets of Personal Mastery  (Crown House, 2000), explains this phenomenon in terms of “meaning” and “performance.” We attach meanings — interpretations, judgments, emotional associations — to everything we experience, he says, and then we perform, or behaviorally act out, those meanings in our everyday lives.

“The challenge,” he notes, “comes when we simultaneously associate two different or opposing meanings to a single experience, but don’t fully recognize that.” The meanings we attach to our bodies, in particular, Hall says, tend to be deeply personal, powerful and complex. We might have both very positive and very negative associations, for example, with the idea of an attention-getting figure, he explains. On the one hand, we may crave that kind of attention, and desire the benefits it confers. On the other, we might hold a deep-seated belief that people with attractive bodies are superficial, or we might dread the idea of being perceived and judged in relation to our appearance. Regardless of our conscious desires, Hall says, we’ll typically wind up acting out whatever meanings are most deeply held, or operating more actively, at any given time.

The challenge is that in many cases, we don’t even realize we hold a negative meaning until some triggering aspect of a given experience presents itself. Or worse, we never recognize it at all, but we react to it just the same. “Let’s say you decide to lose some weight and get in shape,” Hall says. “Consciously, because you attach many positive meanings to being slim and healthy, you perform those meanings by making positive lifestyle choices like exercising more and eating better.” Initially, you might be comfortable — even elated — about your progress. But then, as your body takes on unfamiliar characteristics, you may experience some unanticipated (and subtly disconcerting) reactions.

“Perhaps, as the result of your new appearance and fitness level, you begin to feel more sexually attractive and more confident,” Hall says. “Even though you might consciously attach many positive meanings to your desired state of thinness, if you have a more powerful, subconscious belief system that says getting sexual attention isn’t safe, or if you associate confidence with arrogance, or with the risk of being criticized, those beliefs may make the experience of your new thinness feel dangerous and deeply unappealing.”

As long as the unconscious, negative associations carry more import and meaning than your conscious desire to be thin, Hall asserts, they’ll cause you to begin performing those meanings — typically in ways that undermine your former, fitness-oriented behaviors.

Identifying the Disconnect
Whether you’ve self-sabotaged your fitness efforts in the past, or just want to guard against it happening in the future, your first step toward dismantling patterns of destructive mental processing is to learn to recognize them when they are happening.

To that end, make regular mental and emotional check-ins a part of your fitness plan. If you notice you’re feeling weird, uncomfortable or disoriented in your body, or if you identify that you’re engaging in a behavior that seems contrary to your chosen goals, get quiet for a moment. Go inward and ask yourself: What’s going on? What feelings or assumptions are operating now, and how do they support or oppose my most conscious priorities?

Hall refers to this moment of mindfulness as a “choice point” — a time when you can elect to either elevate your chosen frames and meanings, or let them be overridden by less conscious choices.

Using the suggestions in “Friendly Frames” as a starting place, take an inventory of your responses to both physical- and emotional-level changes. As you get into the habit of noticing what beliefs, reactions or assumptions are operating at a given time, you’ll become more adept at identifying your personal patterns, and at devising solutions for removing the psychological obstacles in your way.

FRIENDLY FRAMES:
Losing excess weight and getting more fit are generally thought of as causes for celebration. But some of the changes associated with these successes require an adjustment period — and some conscious integration. Here are just a few of the subtle physiological shifts that you might experience as your physique evolves, along with some observations from cognitive-behavioral psychologist L. Michael Hall, PhD — plus some “reframing” suggestions for getting your brain on board with the choices you’ve made for your body.

AS YOU LOSE WEIGHT. . .

• VISIBLE CHANGES in body shape and size often invite outside attention and comment. This can leave you feeling more “on stage” and inspected than you find comfortable. You may have mixed feelings about being more attractive, and particularly about attracting attention from the opposite sex.
• LOSING A SUBSTANTIAL AMOUNT of weight might make you feel smaller, more delicate and more fragile than before. Or, it may make you feel taller and more commanding. Either perception can create a sense of unease.
• EVEN A MODERATE AMOUNT of fat loss can make you feel “loose in your skin.” As your fat cells deflate and the volume of subcutaneous fat (the fat between skin and muscle) diminishes, you may feel that your skin is sagging, and that you can more easily “pinch inches.” As a result, you may feel somehow less fit and solid than before, and feel drawn to reversing course. Feeling “too much space” in your clothing can prompt a similar reaction.
• IF YOU COME FROM a family of overweight people, or have mostly overweight friends, you may suddenly feel you are “leaving your tribe” or abandoning some aspect of your identity.
• DEPENDING ON YOUR BONE STRUCTURE, age and skin elasticity, your face may look more mature as the result of being thinner. Conversely, it may look more youthful or take on an altered expression. Seeing an unfamiliar face in the mirror can be a disconcerting experience — even if you like the general effect.

AS YOU BECOME MORE FIT. . .

• PUTTING ON ADDITIONAL MUSCLE may make you feel more solid and more substantial than you have in the past, which can challenge long-held notions of personality and identity. Feeling stronger and more confident may inspire you to become more assertive, or it may make you feel that you’re “taking up too much space.”
• SUDDENLY HAVING MORE ENERGY than you know what to do with can make you feel restless, nervous, unsettled — and perhaps called to make larger life changes than you’re comfortable with now.
• FEELING MORE SPACE AND POWER in your lungs may give you a giddy emotional high, but also leave you feeling a little vulnerable, “untethered” or ready to “lift off” at times.
• BECOMING MORE VISIBLY FIT, muscular and physically admired may present an unanticipated shift for people who previously identified primarily with nonphysical or physically retiring aspects of their personality (those who’ve presented a “purely intellectual” or “shy violet” persona, for example).

TRY THESE REFRAMING TIPS . . .
AS PHYSICAL CHANGES OCCUR, make a point of acknowledging any emotional reactions or associations (positive or negative) they might trigger. Journal about your responses and insights and how you feel in your body from day to day. Talk with friends or peers who’ve gone through similar experiences. Ask yourself whether any negative meanings you might be assigning to the changes you’re experiencing deserve to be overtly challenged and “reframed” in more positive terms.

REMEMBER THAT SOME OUTCOMES (such as loose-feeling skin) may only be temporary, and others (such as too-big clothes) are eminently changeable. If you sense you are undermining important goals because of minor, passing or circumstantial discomforts, take steps to correct them (i.e., replace your clothes or have them altered), or make a conscious choice to wait out temporary discomforts in favor of your higher goal.

CONSIDER PLACING AFFIRMATIVE REMINDERS about your choices in places where you’ll see them on a daily basis. Spend a little time each morning and evening directing supportive, appreciative thoughts toward your changing body.

USE VISUALIZATION TECHNIQUES to get comfortable with your new-and-improved self — as you are now, and as you might be down the road. Imagine yourself going through all your daily motions at your healthiest and most fit.

KEEP IN MIND that more significant adjustments in appearance may represent more significant challenges to your frames of reference. Getting comfortable with feeling more attractive, confident, powerful, and so on, may require deep self-reflection and integration over time. If you think you would benefit from some coaching or counseling in addressing such challenges, seek them out.

MOST OF US do not see our own bodies as others see them. If you suspect you have a distorted body image, or suffer from a body-image disorder, seek counsel from a qualified medical professional or psychologist.