i had just a little more to say.

For No Quit Fit last week I was given the blog topic: Is there a double standard in fitness?  There is a limit to the length I can submit and I had a little more to say.  Here's the full story.

I lifted the first dumbbell of my adult life in September of 2011.  8 pounders.  Above my head.  Many reps and many struggles to push that weight all around up and down and in and out.    This was my first bootcamp class.  Wretched bootcamp class.   After the first day of class, which coincided with my first day of exercise in oh, about 15 years give or take, on the drive home I reflected on how it went.  My drive is only 5 blocks so all I got to was how all the women looked and how they made me feel.  I hadn't known anyone in the class personally, though a few faces were familiar.  Some of them were lifting 15 or 20 pounders and were zipping so quickly up and down in the burpee portion of the night.  I was getting dizzy just watching their speed and agility.  They were laughing and joking about tacos while doing a million toe push ups.  I was so sweaty and exhausted after 3 knee push ups, all I could muster in the comedy department was puking in my mouth a little after numero 4.   Funny, not funny.  

bootycampers: go commando! 5k mud run!

tough women!

getting soft.

There were softer-bodied women and harder-bodied women and everyone was lifting and jumping and sweating.   Some women were completing 2 burpees to my one sad slow burpee.   Toward the end of the first month, while I was knocking out a burpee, the trainer said to me "be athletic".  Huh?  You talking to me?  This is as fast as I can go, sloth like.  We just did push ups and lifted, and then ran stairs and lunges from hell.  These are the extent of my burpees.  Quit looking at me.   

But he didn't let up.  "It's not your speed I'm talking about, your two feet are not springing back together.  You're quickly moving one foot then the other.  It's not athletic, and you are athletic."  

You know how someone says something to you and it just sticks?  Like, when I fell in love with Alan the rest of the way.  I know the instant it happened and exactly what he said to make me limp like noodles in love with him.    It was our second week of knowing each other and Alan, Rayshele (bestie), and I were at Bandana Square eating lunch on a work break.  Bandana Square is a strip mall in St. Paul.  We were leaving the building and walked past a store called Bandana Cleaners.  Alan said, "They're really limiting themselves."  And the rolling laughter that came bellowing out of my face was so loud and hearty and jovial!   Rayshele shot me a disapproving look of "it's not that funny, you are trying too hard".  But I wasn't TRYING to do anything, I was laughing at the best humor I'd encountered in my life.  That was it.   I was already half way in love with the man.  We had been inseparable since the day after we met.   In that moment, I fell completely in love with Alan.  It's etched in my memory.  Same as Dustin's words to me that day in bootycamp: "be athletic".  

He knew I could do better.  He knew I was an athlete but needed to be spurred.  He saw it in me.  He read my potential and pushed me to achieve it.  I was doing kick-ass burpees by the second month.  No more two-foot-separations. I complete athletic burpees now, because I'm an athlete.  Thank you Dustin for rekindling this for me!

Dustin, trainer extraordinaire.

On that first night of bootcamp, on about block 4 on the drive home it hit me.  I was a softer-bodied woman.  I hadn't totally come to terms with this fact until that moment.  I was a softer-bodied woman and I felt comfortable in my skin at bootcamp.  Had that happened before?  I repeat, had that fucking happened before?  In my life?   I wracked my brain.  Um, no.  I felt zero judgements.  I had zero personal thoughts to bring myself down.  Nirvana?  I think so.  I was in awe of myself for going, staying, finishing.    

Ronnie and I were about the same size perhaps, at my heaviest.

I see snap cards are peeking out!  I was on my way.

 

Drinks and Appies were my usual.  Time to break away from the usual.

With all this physical shit being hoisted upon me by the trainer, boom boom boom christ it was one thing after another,  I didn't even have enough energy to care a lick about my nips blaring for the spotlight.   What is that all about anyway?  Good god, settle.   I don't think mine are unusually large or anything but it's like they always have to stand at attention.   At ease girls, at ease.   

When I pushed the weight up high and my shirt came up to reveal a roll peaking out to say yo, was I embarrassed?  YES.   But not because I thought any of the other boot campers cared to count the dimples pushing through my yoga pants.   Rather, I was feeling my own embarrassment in my choices that had led to roly poly oly.    Softie-softelson.  Coming to terms with it all.  It was a powerful day that's for sure. 

But that night at bootcamp, I was comfortable.  Comfortable being vulnerable because I was moving!  I was being active!  I was lifting weights for fuck's sakes.  I felt welcomed.   And I got the distinct feeling that these women and this trainer were about to give me a platform for change, and some really excellent and motivating fit bodies to emulate.  Along with a shit-load of mountain climbers and walking lunges.  

I was hooked.  Well, until three days later when I couldn't sit down on the toilet without grab bars.  My quads were burning!  Not to mention every other muscle and fiber in my body.   The second week of class, my husband literally had to push me out the door to go back to class.  I was so sore I wanted to quit.  I hadn't been sore in my life.   Soreness didn't happen in high school athletics.   I told Alan my body was screaming at me to knock it off, but he knew better.  He said my body was screaming at me to bring it on.  He was right.  After a month, I never looked back and hardly missed a class over one and half years before I had to take a break from lifting during the last leg of my marathon training in the spring of 2013.  

My biggest cheerleader and confidante!

Marathon-fit.  Best shape of my life!

Now, the double standard question, is there one in my world of fitness?  I think it's in the mind of the beholder.    And my mind doesn't see one.  Men joined our class in my tenure.   I didn't feel self conscious around them.  I had to hold in my farts just the same around the women as I did around the men.  I didn't feel I had to act a certain way when they were around, I was able to be myself whether there were men present or not.  

Except for the farts.  There was a "no fluffing" rule at bootcamp.  I was shocked to hear the rule at first.  How does one not let it rip when doing crunches and bicycles?  Those moves beg for release.   Of course they were smart to institute that before I arrived.  Did my reputation precede me?   It's not easy to stifle, but for the love of my fellow bootcampers and Dustin, I maintain the no fluffing policy.  Is it easy?  No.  But rules are rules.  

Benji is a brave brave doggie!

 

Other than that, being a man or a woman didn't matter in class.   The bathroom was nasty gross and unclean with a constantly overflowing huge black garbage bag laying tipped over on the floor.   Though some of the women complained about it needing to be cleaned, those complaints fell on deaf ears.  So the women weren't treated to a nice bathroom that's for sure. 

I was asked to work just as hard on building my muscles as the men.  I loved the attitude from the trainer: whether it's your first day or your fiftieth or you are a man or a woman, you paid me to work your ass off, so that's what I'm going to do.  

Becoming a hard body!

In my happy place.

dip de dip.

Someday I'll get dedicated and go for abs!

I like being outside now!

If I was a person that put walls up, I might be able to think more and find the double standards that exist in my fitness world, but I tend to put in chinks instead.  

can't stand the word journey. finally found the perfect replacement.

brett is in his 4th week at community reintegration program (CRP) at courage center, specifically designed for people who have brain injuries that are seeking independence.  unfortunate initials when you live with alan and brett.  they have taken to lovingly referring to it as CRAP.  acronyms and puns are big laughs around here and so brett heads off to crap on mondays, tuesdays, and thursdays and i giggle every time i hear it.   and yes i just giggled when i wrote it too.

last week brett and i were taking the doggies for a walk before supper. 

spike is the cheeky chihuahua and benji is the bounding toy poodle.   cannot believe i bought doggie sweaters, but they were shivering and i can't have them chilly.  love!

he was telling me about his day but  told me few scant details.  that doesn't fly so i inquired about how crp went.  he said a staff member called a meeting with him.   it wasn't one of the teachers of the classes he said, which was an important point to him, i could tell.  she told him that he talks too much in the groups and monopolizes the discussions and learning times.  he needs to give other people a chance to talk.

brett concluded with  "that is bullshit.  if i didn't talk no one would be talking.  she's not even there anyway.  she doesn't know what she's talking about."

brett's face looked a bit more pissed than in this picture, but you get the drift. 

so this opened up a great dialogue with brett. and we had a long way to walk so it was perfect.  apparently this particular staff gathers information from the teaching staff and then periodically she's responsible for meeting with brett and highlighting his flaws as he described it.  and then also helping  him to think of ways to shape his flaws so they become positives and he can grow as a person.  or just telling him what to do.  not sure how tactful she was, i may be putting words in the situation that don't quite fit, but i just spun it for you how i hope she did to brett :) 

i talked about constructive feedback, getting information about yourself from observers about what is going well and what is going awry.  and why this is important.  and that it happens to me too.  i gave brett specific examples of how corrective feedback has made me better in meetings at work, how alan and i have become a better couple because we tell each other what is helping and what is harming our relationship.  we can't make things better if we don't know what the negative things are.  that it's very hard to see these flaws yourself so he's fortunate to have people caring about his interactions so he can shape them so other people want to be around him and enjoy him in the future.   

who wouldn't want to be around this sushi eating coolio?!  well, if you could never get a word in edgewise i guess you just might think twice.

this drink swilling foo is annoying??  perhaps, in some circles. 

after some discussion he understood that maybe they aren't talking because he's doing all of it.  if he were to keep his trap shut sometimes maybe they will speak up.  he needs to pipe down so others can pipe up.  (boy i'd rather have the kid who talks too much as opposed to the one who clams up.  brett was responding quite well, so i'm confident he's going to even out!)

the whole time he was bringing up points, disagreeing in parts, we discussed.  it was give and take and i was really proud of brett for bringing up the topic and sharing with me in the first place. and also pleased he was engaging in the discussion with me.

at one point brett said "fine i'll just say what i want to say and then put my headphones on so other people can talk".   i was fascinated about this.  brettski really needs to be taught to have two way conversations and how to participate in group discussions.  it's not just that he doesn't want to.  he doesn't really know how to.  the injury to his brain has changed his ability in this regard.  now he doesn't really care about the discussion points or responses from others, unless they directly relate to him and further his discussion about himself.

he was partly with this mindset as a 16 year old before his brain injury.  but i'm confident, barring the accident, he would have continued to mature into adulthood and learned these types of lessons through social cues and friends or a girlfriend telling him to shut the hell up and listen to them once in awhile :)

so i talked to brett about actually listening to what the others have to say.  how he can learn more about them, their perspective, their lives, their feelings by listening to what they say.  novel concept, but give it a try.  and see how it works for you, you big monopolizer.  he said he was game.you just can't possibly know how incredibly far brett has come in this regard however.  what the crp staffer is bringing up is for sure an issue to address, and a flaw for brett to overcome.  but if they only knew from where he came!

about 1 year after his brain injury when faced with any amount of time to WAIT even (and i'm talking seconds) would send him into a temper tantrum fit of kicking and flailing fists.  very terrible two.  at 17.  ugh it was  long  few  years of slowly helping him shape his behavior to being able to tolerate wait time and the answer no or anything he construed as negative without making threats or being aggressive or with any semblance of calm.  and then about 2 years ago he got to a new place where he was able to cope with and respond to tough things so much better.  

 and now he's heads and tails above where he was two years ago even.  and i know he will continue to grow and change as a person.  there are no limits for where brett is going, i am glad i'm along for the ride.  

back to the present story:

we kept walking, and i taught him a new vocabulary word and then we rehearsed the phrase:  "thank you for bringing this up to me, i appreciate your candor.  i can use this to become a better person."

instead of telling her it's bullshit which gets no one nowhere fast.   we talked about how important it is to grow and mature from his defensive responses to mature respectful discussions, even when your flaws are the topic.  that's not easy for most people.

then we role played with me bringing up sensitive topics which he would normally view as harsh criticism and immediately get pissed about.  brett responded  first with his canned response which automatically sets the tone for a respectful discussion to ensue.  you can't really say 'candor' without something awesome happening next.  it's disarming to the person who had to bring up the criticism for brett to reply with such maturity.  it sets both parties at ease.  after saying that canned response, it would take substantial effort for brett to go into a 'bullshit' angry retort.


i asked him at the end of the week how things were going in this regard at crp.  he said he's not talking as much and he's listening more and the jury's still out.

i love this kid!

every day of my life there is something new i find out, a nuance to better understand, a piece of information i didn't know previously that i learn.  this is natural for me and i don't have to work at it.

 it is not natural for brett and he does have to work at it. he does need help to know what to improve upon.    the effort is worth it, the changes prudent.  the person brett is makes me sing with joy.  the potential brett has for further shaping of his personal interactions is icing on the cake.

 i become a better more rounded person as i learn and grow.  so does brett.  so does everyone.  he's no different in this regard.   learning and growing  never stops for people who embrace life as an odyssey.the definition of odyssey:  a long series of wanderings or adventures, especially when filled with notable experiences, hardships, pain, and joy.   sounds about right.