Humor me.
I’ve been pondering for the last few years how my thinking has changed from me 7 years ago (and the 20 years prior) to the me of today. People want to know, what flipped the switch? Where was your a-ha moment?
Well, after 20-years of struggle, its hard to answer this question. I realize so much of it was a battle in my head. My own thinking. My own limiting beliefs that became absolutes and truths. Because you can look at both pics and I am 100% the Same. Damn. Woman. Just the things going through my head have shifted.
Maybe I had it all wrong, maybe I had it in me all along.
Maybe instead of being destructive and out of control with food, I was loving and caring for myself the only way I knew how.
Maybe instead of beating myself up incessantly about what I did wrong, it shifted to leaning in to what’s going right.
Maybe the false story reels that played in my head caused my own limiting beliefs, not allowing myself to dream about what I really wanted out of life and believing in what could be possible.
Maybe I was busy blaming time, fad diets and busy-ness so that I didn’t have to acknowledge that I was in my own way.
Maybe instead of easy walks and yoga, I needed something hard. Something that would make me dig deep, feel something and prove that I can do hard things.
Maybe I was so afraid of being vulnerable and letting my guard down that being overfull of food constantly was the only way I felt I could keep my guard up.
Maybe I was preoccupied with playing the role I was expected to play as a mom, wife, and executive, instead of allowing myself to evolve and want more or something different out of life.
Maybe the weeknight wine was dulling my senses along with the food.
Maybe I got comfortable with the food and wine comas.
Maybe most of us don’t even know what the f**k is out there in the world for us.
Maybe we don’t even begin to think big enough for ourselves.
Maybe we don’t lift our heads up long enough to consider where a step in a different direction might take us.
Maybe I should have redefined vulnerable as strong, and recognized my binge eating episodes were my way of quieting my true self and my true feelings.
Maybe instead of thinking I was afraid of failure, I was actually more afraid of success. Maybe I liked being hidden more than I wanted to admit.
Maybe instead of babying my aches, pains and sore joints, I should have moved more. Tossed the high heels.
Maybe instead of being soft with myself, I needed to put on some big girl pants and take a chance or risk.
Maybe I didn’t have time because I never was secure enough to believe anything I wanted was possible, worth having or dreaming about.
Maybe I totally absof**kinglutely COMPLETELY underestimated what I was capable of.
Maybe I didn’t need yoga and deep breaths and taking movement slow, maybe I needed in your face, firefighting, run for your life and light your soul on fire type activity to WAKE UP.
Maybe feeling in a rut needed to f**k off and I needed to do something hard to prove something to myself.
Maybe I needed a physical activity where no one gives a crap about your abilities, but gives all out respect for how hard to you work, how consistent you are and your effort, not ability.
Maybe I needed a coach that called me an athlete even when I felt anything but.
Maybe we’re busy being strong for everyone else and there is nothing left for us.
Maybe we’re not lame or weak, maybe we’re f**king stronger than anyone (including ourselves) ever realized.
Maybe us loners and introverted overeaters are the REAL f**king savages.
Me and a barbell? No way.
Me and 115 pounds lost and kept off? Keep talking, man.
Me and CrossFit? An L2 coach? A USA Weightlifting Coach? A CrossFit competition? Maybe, if I was abducted by aliens and transplanted back on earth.
Me, a small business owner coaching people on nutrition and their relationship with food? Girl, you ain’t even got it figured out for yourself.
Pullups? Rope climbs? Wearing a weighted vest to workout? Ba ha ha ha. In my dreams.
Me and running a 5k without stopping? Now don’t be ridiculous.
So, flip to today, where all of these things that were once impossibilities are my reality. Bigger than anything I ever imagined for myself. Now the door is always open to hope and what “could be” and where my answers to hard and seemingly impossible questions are now always…
“well, maybe.”
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