We get to say what matters. We get to choose movements, careers, partners, and lives for ourselves, regardless of how others respond. We get to find those who resonate with us. We get to choose. We get to build what we want.
And it can all start with a pair of legs.
Is that what you genuinely want? Do you want the jean size, or do you want the ease and freedom that comes with not worrying about your body? Are you measuring your worth by your inherent power, or is your worth wrapped up in your appearance?
Are you chasing something you really want and a lifestyle that would accentuate and nurture your magic?
Or are you buying into a path our culture says is the key to happiness, without realizing that it's already in you?
When I began my career in fitness, I essentially crawled into the gym for my first day after spending a week drinking on the beach to celebrate my college graduation.
I knew I was passionate about wellness, about how our bodies move, and about how things fit together. I knew I wanted to walk out a journey as a person much like the average gym goer: not looking to compete in a physique show or be the next great Crossfit sensation, but just looking to look a little better, feel a lot better, understand my body, and have more confidence.
But I’d argue that my career choice, at least initially, was as much to heal myself as it was to help others (moderately selfish, I know.), finally putting into practice all the facts and theories I’d learned over years of studying health and exercise, hoping that using them practically would finally make it all make sense.
Because I’d tried a lot over the years, probably much like you.
There are many ways to skin a cat: we can achieve the body goals we desire in any number of ways. But are we honoring the cat (and ourselves) in the process?
We have a say.
We can decide.
We are in charge.
So let's have a moment of compassion for Old You, who's fighting super hard for her last breath. She finds her worth in her appearance and truly believes that the answer is restricting, thinking that the accompanying binging is a personality and willpower flaw, rather than a natural rebellion against a plan not meant for her. She's fighting to stay alive, because she's afraid of a new possibility: one in which she can explore, and where there's no way to truly mess up. We're exploring and finding the best system for you.
Let's also acknowledge that Old You will be interwoven into You 2.0, because Old You has important, valuable lessons to teach.
Not the least of which is, she gets overwhelmed and scared sometimes (like we all do) and doesn't like feeling that way (because, who tf does?).
Old You is like a rescue puppy who is kind of a jerk and wants to pee on everything just because she's never known what it's like to be safe and loved and cared for, but actually means well and is trying really hard (analogy stolen from Elizabeth Gilbert, whose post on compassion for self is worth a read or ten.).
We want to change. We're on board with not denying our past selves. But we don't know anything other than self-deprecation, self-flagellation, and adopting plans that have nothing to do with us.
SO WHAT DO WE DO??
"But aren't you afraid of looking stupid on the internet, especially in the field in which you're a professional?"
When I was much younger than I am now, I was lamenting being a decidedly mediocre swimmer. I was decent, to be sure, and won a state gold medal once, but never succeeded in larger competitions, despite training with those who did and being able to keep up in practice.
I was frustrated and consulted my dad, the beacon of all wisdom at the time (to be clear, now that I'm almost 30, I'm back in the stage where I find him pretty smart. Hey, Dave!). He told me that as a coach, he'd take the person who worked hard over the person with natural talent any day of the week. His words were meant to encourage (and, to an extent, I agree), but they sent up an interesting dichotomy in my head: if you have natural talent, you don't have to work hard, and, if you work hard, you must not have much natural talent. You can't have both.
Why?
Happy December!
December, for me, is a month full of wonder.
When the snow is falling, fuzzy socks are on, and twinkle lights abound, I revert to childlike innocence.
The end of the year can be a tough time: it's full of rushing, of consumerism, of trying to make everyone happy, of too much food and too little movement, and, most of all, of us judging ourselves, more often than not.
The holidays are coming up. Everyone's favorite time.
And, let's face it, even more so than last year, this might be a tough season for you, if your friends and/or family members aren't on the same political or social (or any -al) page as you are.
Everyone tries to deny the tension, pretend like it's not there, or (my personal favorite) make a sassy statement that explodes into World War whatevernumberwereonnow. We often white-knuckle our way through holidays, gritting our teeth and forgetting to enjoy the time of joy, gratitude, and community (some of our favorite things!).
What I DO want to discuss today, is that the "it" - YOUR "IT" - the thing your subconscious won't let you drop - is not just a looming, unreachable, would-be-nice goal, but a thing toward which we can take steps. Every day. All the time.
Not just when we're "ready," but also now.
How can I serve you best?
When you open this email, what are you hoping to find?
I've had a few ideas that I've been excited to create for you, and before I flesh them all out, I want to know what you'd like to see.
