Dedication Health, the formal ‘program’ I have been
vested in since June 10th, concludes tomorrow. Or today, plus a
celebration visit tomorrow at the gym. This week, anyway. I sit here with the
‘power tower’ behind me, inviting some strict pull-ups as I get antsy sitting
for too long. A cup of half-caf coffee next to me, a little bit of almond-milk,
like I enjoy in the afternoon. I find myself curious about what my intentions
will be in these next weeks, even months. The formality of the health-journey with coach and community
has provided a good container for me to learn habits that make me feel good,
body soul and mind. I suspect simply the regularity at the gym will hold enough
of this kind of container to continue on with maintaining what I’ve learned,
and listening for anything new. So…what might be beckoning…? I wonder, with a
sense of not-knowing in the least…
As I was
driving home, I got curious about the journal/poem I remember writing one
night, spring of 2018. I knew it had a number that I had been ashamed of, but I
honestly could not remember what the number was. Poetic this seems to me now, I might add. I
bounded upstairs when I got home, to look for it. Yes…easily found. And a smile.
207 was the name of the poem. I had had to visit the doctor for something that
spring—maybe a bronchial bug or some such—and had been pushed onto the scale by
an assertive nurse. I was surprised and embarrassed, a short slide into ashamed,
for me. The highest weight I had ever seen on a scale that I stood on. Writing
circle that night provided a window to face it, to bring my sketching and
poetic mind to befriending what was, who I was, right at that moment. I drew
the numbers 2-0-7 with space to write words within them. Then a mouth with
fleshy lips, space enough for words to fit within them too.
How do numbers shame women? Why do we
let them? I wrote at
the top. In the sketched numbers and mouth, I wrote: (In the sketched 2-0-7) A perfect number for / All of Me is needed
for All I get to do / Evenly and with LOVE. (then in the mouth) Shame began before I could talk /wordless/
It ended when I was birthed anew in her eyes. I remember hardly being able
to speak these words aloud to my spirit-friend, Lisa, whose eyes I referenced, who loves me so fiercely
that weight nor numbers nor body-image matter little, if at all. She was one of
the most powerful ones to unlock the door for me, actually, letting all that
I feared out of my body energies and into the world without harm. Unbeknownst
to me at the time: it was an important event that night—loving my body at the
heaviest it had ever been. Being seen and not ashamed. Knowing I was loved
regardless, unconditionally, right then and there.
Now, I’d say that
health was born in me at that moment,
though I did not know the decisions I would be making in the months to come to
live that journey into its harvest. I entered into CrossFit, and then
Dedication Health, less to change what or
who I was than to know what they know
and see what it might feel like in my body. My beloved, over-200-pounds woman’s
body.
Which has
become nearly 30 pounds less than she was, more muscled than she used to be,
and more energized and feeling-good
than I have ever known before. There’s less of you to hug, said a friend
recently, smiling. Yet my bodysoul is so much bigger, more expansive, steady,
easy.
Today I
celebrate ‘having arrived’ a bit, at a destination I had not necessarily
crafted for myself, but which I receive with deep belly satisfaction and
pleasure. I love how I get to eat, what I get to eat, and the precision of
tracking on the app that allows me to tweak and confirm, hold the
practice/container for myself. The Inbody ‘norms’ urge me to lose 6.4 lbs of
body fat mass. Melissa and I talked about keeping an eye on my metabolic rate,
which dropped about 40 cals/day. I find myself wondering whether my body does
that in the autumn, preparing a bit for winter and more sedentary rhythms in the
cold. I’ve only been measured in the height of summer, which IS my most active
time of the year, period. Longer days, more light, better temperatures… I could
begin to explore intermittent fasting twice a week from time to time, instead
of once/week. Which I’m curious about to some extent. We talked about moving my
net carbs down to more like 40 g/day, as I do tend to hit 50g or even a little
more regularly.
I listen to
each of these invitations, I here return to my opening pondering—what beckons for me
in this next part of the health-ing journey? I am tickled pink with where I am.
Do I want to be further down the road, with a potentially-perceived ‘more
restrictive’ setting to my ‘norms’? Is the last 6 lbs of body fat worth
tightening some of the specifics, so to ‘achieve’ what the InBody norms
suggest? Is it a fine thing to arrive at one’s plateau and simply enjoy
the view?
I may desire
to do just that!
Regardless, I
will sit and move with these invitations for a while, just doing what I know to do now.
My instinct is to turn my attention to activity and some skill-building things—pull-ups
have been on my view-screen for a while, but not with focused attention during
my heaviest work-season (which slows down a
little in three weeks); double-unders arose today as something that opened
unexpectedly, and the cardio aspect attracts me; as has running, for that
matter. My body just loves to move now, and I’m blessedly strain and injury
free. (Part of me wants to write, ‘knock on wood and all that’). I’m enjoying
the Mark Hyman reading that is before me, beginning to research some of the
local-farm possibilities in my area, exploring with some new and on-plan
cooking, even baking. Restricting my eating habits to the next level ‘inward’
feels just that, restrictive. Without
a clear sense of discerning and valuing the end-goal—a norm given by an outside
source, population-norms, etc.—it’s simply not my
goal yet. And it might not become my goal at all. Or it may, if I find myself desiring in that direction...
It is good to
receive the invitation, to listen with coach(es) and community, to participate in
the regular rhythms of the gym and just enjoy the movement. Just show up. Just
get better, as I discern in these next weeks, months.
No comments:
Post a Comment