Invincible

So how ironic that the day after I post my first entry in months, I wake up with my stomach doing somersaults again! Clearly God knew me better than I know myself! I am pretty sure he nudged me into making that post, knowing that once I did, I would find it hard to blow off my next workout, simply because I felt bad. I am positive if I had not made that commitment, I would have skipped a trip to the gym, and opted for laying in bed. Instead I dragged myself there, hit the treadmill for 45 minutes and followed with some sit-ups. It wasn’t a full work-out, and my body was still not cooperating with me when I finished, but I felt as if I had won a hard fought race simply by sticking it out.  As it turned out, it was just the start I needed to prepare myself for a day that ended in sadness and surprise.  

Late in the afternoon on the 4^th, my youngest daughter learned that one of her friends and been killed in an accident. The young man and two friends decided to take an ATV out in the very early hours of the morning after a night of Pre-Fourth of July celebrations. They hit a pothole in the dark and the boy was thrown from the vehicle ultimately resulting in his death a few hours later. My daughter and her friends have spent most of the time sense struggling to make sense of the insensible. Twenty year olds aren’t supposed to die. Twenty year olds are supposed to be invincible, and because they believe they are, they do those things that most of their parents have learned not to do. By the time you are our age, you know that no one is invincible; at their age, however, you still believe you are untouchable until you see the name of your friend scrolling down a twitter feed preceded by three words, "Rest in Peace".

As I paced myself on the treadmill yesterday, I vacillated between sadness for the family, relief that my daughter had stayed home and not attended the party where the accident occurred, and a sense of guilt for being selfish enough to have thought of that in the face of such a horrific tragedy.  I couldn’t stop thinking about the other parent’s loss, and yet I couldn’t stop feeling relieved that it wasn’t my loss. I thought of the friends who were left behind: the ones who were with him that morning and now had to live with the “What ifs.” I thought of the friends who were not with him that morning and wondered if they might have changed the outcome if they had been there.  I pondered if this would make any of them pause in the future or would their pain send them down a more dangerous path. I worried, “Would we lose any others too soon?” and even as the thought crossed my mind, I already knew the answer was likely "Yes!" These tragedies happened daily across the country…. good kids, making a careless decision that cost them their life.  

The truth is that when you are twenty, it doesn’t take long for that sense of vulnerability to wear off and the seduction of invincibility to set back in. I could only pray and hope that the events of this week would make a strong enough impression on my own child  and those close to her to protect them from some future tragedy and another senseless loss. 

A Crack in the Foundation

It has been quite some time since I posted last. I wish I could tell you that I have been a work-out machine these last few months and I just haven't found the time to write, but the truth is I fell off the wagon and have been avoiding publishing my downfall. 

It all began shortly after my daughter got engaged and just after I passed the one year mark of starting my blog. My daughter and her fiance set a wedding date for September 1, 2012. While this initially seemed like a long time for planning purposes, when we actually began hunting for dresses, venues and DJs, it quickly became evident that in the bridal world, we were having a rush wedding! I started allowing my wedding planning to get in the way of my regular workout routine. Instead of working out four to five times a week, I dropped to three to four times a week. I told myself it was OK for a short period of time to miss a few days here and there. After all, I reasoned with myself, I had been working out regularly for a year. I was clearly past the point of losing my way…or so I thought, and that was the psychological crack in the foundation that led to my downfall. 

Three to four times a week dropped to two to three times a week, and then I woke one morning with a kink in my neck, and two to three times a week dropped to one to two times a week. Soon after my neck improved, I started having problems with my gastroparesis. From that point on, my work-out routine went completely to the wayside. I managed three short bike rides (a new activity I’ll write about in one of my future blogs) and a handful of even shorter walks over a six week period. 

Finally, about two weeks ago, things with my body started turning around again, and I have slowly been able to pick up the activity again. About a week ago, I started batting around the idea of posting to my blog again, but every time I sat down to write, I found a reason not to. The truth was I knew posting to the blogosphere was a commitment, and frankly, I was a little afraid to commit again. After a year of hard work, it had been so easy to slide back into a routine of complacency and excuses. I was afraid of admitting my failure and afraid of repeating that failure in the future. 

I pondered the idea for several more days, and then came the sudden realization. The only true failure would be to give into that fear and allow it to to stop me from trying again. If nothing else, I had proven one thing this past year. I am far more successful in my efforts with a team cheering me on. My mission is still the same…do the things I need to do on a daily basis to improve my overall health. Fix the issues I can control and position myself better for facing the health concerns I can’t control.  It’s time to get serious again….who is with me? 

Pushing Past My Comfort Zone...

Every year, my husband's office holds a Christmas Party. There is always good food, great company, gifts for all and  three special prizes for three lucky winners. One prize is usually a gift certificate to a local spa, one is usually a gift certificate to a nice restaurant in town and the third and most coveted prize is usually a gift certificate for a trip.  The previous two years the grand prize had been a gift certificate to a cruise line, so we were hopeful that this would be our year to win the big prize. When the time came for them to pull the prizes, we crossed our fingers in anticipation. First was a gift certificate to one of the nicer restaurants in town. We didn't win that. Second was a gift certificate to the Red Door Salon and Spa. I could definitely have gotten into that present, but that also went to someone else. It was finally time for the grand prize! They had decided to do something a little different this year. This year's gift certificate was a trip to the Snowshoe West Virginia Ski Resort....hmmm, I had never been skiing and Chuck had not skied since he injured his knee. Perhaps this wasn't the year we wanted to win after all, but even as the thought flickered through my mind, I could see the President of the company turning towards Chuck and low and behold, we had actually won the grand prize! Well, any hesitation quickly turned to excitement! We had never won a prize that big before, and skiing or no skiing, I was sure we would be able to find something to do to have fun even if it meant just going for a weekend and cuddling in front of a warm fire together.

Rob with Charlie back from Afghanistan

So this past week, my daughter's boyfriend returned home after a six month tour to Afghanistan (Thank you Rob for your service!!!!). They live in a small apartment in Silver Spring, so they asked us if they might borrow the house for the weekend to host a welcome home party for Rob and 40 of their friends. It seemed the opportune time to get away, so we grabbed our gift certificate, packed our bags and headed to West Virginia. Somewhere along the way, we decided that we'd get Chuck a knee brace, myself some ski clothes and we'd try skiing after all. It just didn't feel right to go to a Ski resort and not go skiing.

 We arrived early in the evening on Saturday, checked into our suite, made arrangements for a ski lesson for the next day and headed out to pick up our ski equipment. The resort was designed so that almost everything was in walking distance and driving was discouraged. As we lugged the ski equipment from the rental center to our hotel, I realized pretty quickly that the work-out clothes I had packed would probably stay in the suitcase. We  were going to get plenty of walking in this weekend, on top of whatever other physical challenges skiing presented.

Snow Bunny

We had arranged for an early morning lesson, so we would have full day ahead of us. It was  snowing and in the teens as we made our way to the meeting point, but I was decked out in snow gear from head to toe and found I was surprisingly comfortable. I definitely looked the part of a snow bunny even if I had no clue what I was doing. We had to traverse a small bunny slope to get to our meeting location. I managed to make it to the desired point without falling even though I found myself feeling slightly out of control most of the way there. The lesson went very well and the instructor gradually eased me into more difficult traverses. I fell twice, but by the end of the lesson I felt empowered and was sure I could handle the beginner slope just fine.

We decided to take a hot chocolate break before heading to the new run which in hindsight was my first mistake. By the time we returned to the slope, the runs had filled with more people who were flying around us. The snow had gotten just a bit icier, as well, so I was having a harder time slowing myself down. As we approached the edge of the first incline,  I hesitated. This run looked a lot steeper than the bunny slope, but Chuck assured m me that it was not much steeper, so I went ahead and pushed myself forward. I made it about ten feet, panicked and fell. I struggled to get myself righted, but  I would get myself righted only to slide a little bit more. Every time I slid further I panicked a little more. Finally we made the decision to take off our skis and walk back to the top of the slope. I decided I needed to stick to the bunny slopes a little bit longer. As we headed back up to the slope sans skis, a concerned ski patrolman stopped to check on us. My husband nicely explained I was new to this and a little afraid. He suggested we try a different area that was better for beginners. We;d have to take a shuttle to it, but he was sure it would be a better place for me to start. 

She's up!

We headed to lunch first to allow ourselves a chance to warm up, but also the opportunity for me to settle down. Over lunch I convinced myself that the next run would certainly go better, so I was excited again by the time we hopped on the shuttle for the next area. This are was definitely less populated than the previous area, so I felt a little more comfortable that I could navigate around the other skiers a little easier. No sooner than I stepped on the slopes, however,  than I started sliding again. I just couldn't seem to get my ski's to do what I wanted. Instead of heading straight to the green slope we decided to hit the bunny slope again, so I could build up my confidence again. Unfortunately, this time I found myself more and more frustrated instead of empowered. Clearly skiing wasn't for me. I was a klutz after all; what had I been thinking!

I tried to convince my husband to go skiing with out me. I told him I'd go get a hot chocolate and wait at the lodge while he hit some intermediate slopes, but he wasn't giving up. He believed in me even though I didn't believe in myself. He nudged me to try the beginner slope just once. He told me that if after making one run, I still wasn't having fun, we would go back to the lodge together. I begrudgingly acquiesced even though I was secretly convinced that I was going to be severely injured by the time I got to the bottom.  I started down the slope, made it about fifty yards before I got startled by another skier and then careened to the left and fell yet again. By this time I was simmering with anger that I had let Chuck talk me into continuing.There was no going back up this time, only going down. Tears of frustration rolled down my face, and I was frozen in place. I knew I had to get moving or sit there and freeze to death.

Chuck patiently waited for me to calm down and build up the courage to go further. He promised to stay right with me while we continued down and assured me that he had my back; he would not let anyone run me down from behind. I took a deep breath and pushed myself forward. As I headed down the slope I tried to remind myself of what my instructor had said to me the first time we went down a steeper embankment, "Embrace the speed, don't fight it." So instead of trying to break my descent this time, I just let go and went for it. Surprisingly the more I let go, the more I found myself gaining a sense of control. By the time we made it to the end of the beginner's slope,  I decided I was willing to try the run one more time. One more time turned into two more times, and then three, and then more. By the last run, I was able to complete the entire run without stopping and was having lots of fun.

A Great Weekend Together!

At the end of the day, I had plenty of bruises, a sore shoulder, a stiff back and swollen knees, but I also felt a sense of accomplishment. I had pushed myself beyond my comfort zone and kept going. I'm not sure that I could have even attempted to try and ski a year earlier, much less been able to work past my fears and keep going after so many frustrating starts, but the past eleven months had helped to build my confidence, and my husband had been there to give me the gentle nudging I needed to keep going. I am grateful he was there watching my back, believing both in me and for me and, as always, holding my hand along the way.  

My First Work-out of 2012 and New Year's Resolutions

Well, I am finally back on line! December was a great month. I was able to really enjoy the holidays with my family and friends, and for the first part of the month even managed to stay on track with my fitness goals. It wasn't until Christmas Day that I fell off the wagon, and when I say I fell off the wagon.... I mean I REALLY fell hard. My downfall began with the crud which landed me on steroids and antibiotics for a week. It  ended with a sugar binge and a 10 day hiatus from the gym!

I have to say I was surprised at how quickly I lost my will power when I felt bad. I guess because I was forced to stay sedentary for periods of time, when I did feel a little better, I easily fell back into a routine of "everything else needs to come first"! Combine that with a house full of amazing baked goods and a nagging cough, it was the perfect equation for apathy. So yesterday I decided I would kick start my efforts again by starting back to my pre-Christmas routine. As part of my effort to ensure I was reaching my goals during the month of December, I had taken to walking laps around the interior of my office multiple times through out the day. This achieved two things...it kept me warm and dry for my daily exercise breaks, but it also helped to boost my total miles each day, and if you read my last blog, I had se very specific goals for each week. One lap around the office equaled about .10 miles. Yesterday I managed 25 laps throughout the day and then followed that with my first trip to the gym of 2012!

To be honest, I thought the gym would be overrun by people spurred on by New Year's resolutions, so I was pleasantly surprised not to have to fight for a machine. I decided to start with a slower pace since I was still  recovering and it had been awhile since I had been in. This turned out to be a good decision in more ways than one. First I had forgotten my number one rule when I  hopped on the machine, use the restroom first. One quarter of a mile in and I realized that even the current pace was too fast without an empty bladder, so less than five minutes into my walk and I was pausing for a potty break. Ten minutes later I was buzzing along nicely again and my blackberry rang. I had also forgotten to place it on vibrate, so I quickly answered the phone to silence it, but managed instead to lose my grip on it! The phone dropped on to the moving belt below my feet and I found myself trying to quickly jump over the phone without landing on it as it flew backwards off the machine. I was so rattled, that when I reached for the pause button, I hit the emergency stop button instead and sent myself careening off the treadmill after it. Amazingly I didn't injure myself or my phone in the process.

It certainly wasn't an auspicious beginning for my first work out of the new year, but I jumped back on the treadmill anyways and put in another three miles. One thing I have learned this past year, it isn't about how pretty I look when I work-out, how hard I appear to be working out or how graceful I am when I work-out,  it's just about making it through the work-out and going back again!  So as I start my New Year I have come to the conclusion , it's not about the Resolutions,  it's about the resolve. I just need to make it through the work-out and go back again.