PT-64: The lost session (day 21)

Monday morning, training with J.

I unexpectedly and tragically lost a close friend yesterday and feel wrecked about it. But I got up and went to meet fab trainer J this morning anyway, because if I can easily imagine lying on a set of train tracks waiting for a train to run me over I can all too easily find myself canceling sessions, blowing off practices, and returning to a sedentary lifestyle in my grief.

No matter what my circumstances, how crappy I feel today or in the days ahead, I cannot be deterred from my better health quest.

Mercifully, comfort food holds little appeal right now, although I admit I feel the knee-jerk allure of old habits. I have worked so hard to get past that reflexive inclination, and I have new habits and ways to cope.

Life continues, despite a broken heart and wounded spirit.

But I got nothing as far as feedback from this review session. At this point of the day, 12 hours later, I cannot really recall what we did. I know it was review. I know it was upstairs. Beyond that, it all looks and feels like a big blur today. I could look at the List and it will refresh what we did, but nothing stands out other than getting through it without bursting into tears and lying on the floor sobbing and refusing to get back up.

Yeah, I had my fears about that happening.

Since we finished in record time, I know I could care less about rep count or even set count. We could have done one per and I would say it was fine. One low energy, low expectations session matters little to me under the circumstances. Not showing up for it felt terrifying on so many levels.

I’m very fortunate – I have an incredibly caring, supportive tribe that holds my hands and lets me ramble and wander as I stumble along in this haze of grief.

But as I type this – a couple of things do stand out.

I want to be able to climb to my feet from sitting on the floor without having the help of another person or sturdy, immovable object. And right now it does seem to still to require the logistical planning of unsinking the Titantic from the ocean floor, but it will not be like this forever.

The things that influenced and inspired me to get started on my better health quest, those only die if I allow them to die in my heart and mind. Courage, bravery, all those cool-sounding heroic buzz words do not enter into this equation. Discipline, steadfastness, accepting that life continues is the only thing that makes the senseless unlucky sequence of events make sense.

The range of emotions that come with loss are not easy to quantify or describe, and there is no one-size-fits-all patterns to mourning. The amount of anger and rage I feel inside is almost embarrassing, yet who am I actually angry with? God? Some other higher power? Modern medicine? My friend? Myself? I think it normal, healthy, to be upset and full of rage that something I never, ever wanted to happen has happened. It seems yet another side of the complexities of being human and the circle of life.

I learned a long time ago that being a victim is a circumstance, but it does not need to be the defining circumstance. Channeling my anger and my rage has been a driving force to get me past that label and made me make something of myself. While it feels kind of noble to imagine continuing my better health quest for my friend and compadre who means so much to me, it is also a cheap and tawdry self-serving device for which he would gleefully verbally bitch-slap me if he were reading this right now. Always, this has been for and about me and me alone, and to try to twist it into some sort of tribute is both wrong and unsustainable for the long haul. His influence and encouragement does not end because he is no longer walking this earthly plane with me. Perhaps that is the best, finest legacy anyone can provide.

I am so much stronger, more capable, and frankly more physically appealing to my own eye than I was when I started with J. I work hard at my better health quest for myself, for more life in the years I have. But I have new measures of pride and confidence, and I am glad my friend got to see and experience that first hand.

In the throes of grief and loss, I truly remember why I love my life. Because I feel such depths of grief and loss with the passing of a genuine, faithful friend. Eventually I will bear these fresh scars with dignity and pride, and always remember the one who helped me earn them.

Not much of a training recap today, I know. Hopefully our regular programming will return soon.

#august2017, #balance, #better-health, #diet, #emotional-health, #exercise, #fitness, #friends, #grief, #gym, #health, #healthy-eating, #inspiration, #motivation, #sadness

Today, it’s mostly about me (day 9)

Walking out of the gym this morning a regular member I see most weeks was walking in. She works with another trainer, but our paths cross so routinely that we’ve gotten to know one another a bit and exchange pleasantries.

Today we chatted briefly in passing and she paid me a highly prized compliment. She said: “You are looking great and I can’t believe how fit you’ve gotten.” I thanked her for her kindness, and she replied “I’m not being kind, I’m being honest. ”

Still, the spontaneous compliment set me all a-glow. For the whole day thus far. And I’m meeting up with friend K tonight for a push workout (she just got the List J and I went through on Monday) and really looking forward to the practice as well as seeing and catching up with my friend.

Life is good.

But this morning, I was remarking to K that going through a huffy-puffy List with both planks and floor crunches/chops (aka sit-ups) and found myself idly wonder whether or not I really needed a strong core. Sweating, breathing hard, feeling exhausted – I was thinking abs must be overrated if they are this much work to excavate. But after 3 sets, I was primarily happy to be done with them for that List of the day. Kicking my own ass, as they say – I am determined to try and improve my performance on these bad boys and for me that only comes with consistent and overwhelming practice.

But no matter. While I sweat and swear and wish to any higher powers listening to NOT have to struggle through the harder exercise and fitness stuff each day, I nearly always feel physically and mentally amazing afterwards. It’s like every day is a little marathon and I cross the finish line when I do the last rep of the last item in the set each morning. Some days I might have a bonus round – a nemesis thing that disrupts my thinking or something else I feel really good at that was once a lot more challenging – but those don’t count as much in my satisfaction quotient.

Today’s huffy-puffy List included 3 sets of the following (with some revisions and substitutions for general laziness and extra practice):

Bulgarian split squats – 12 bodyweight, 2 sets of 12 with pair of 5 lb. DBs
1-arm row Subbed bent over rows (so I didn’t have to mess with the bench) – 20 lb. DBs
Plank off bench with step-in/step-out/heel up High intensity planks floor (for extra practice) – 2 intervals/15 seconds each per set

Romanian deadlifts – 15 with 30 lb. DBs
Flat bench chest press – 15 with 20 lb. DB; 2 sets of 15 with 25 lb. DBs
Stability ball pass off bench Reach-up crunches/chopper sit-ups – 6 per set

1-arm overhead press 1-arm DB snatch – 8 per set, 15 lb. DB
DB overhead pullover – 15 per set with 25 lb. DB
DB triceps extensions – 15 per set with 15 lb. DBs

I was back in the gym this evening to practice with K. I swear, we laugh and talk and have so much fun together working at the List du jour. No deadlifting tonight – we were busy going through our push exercises and chatting amongst ourselves and with other members. Wednesday nights are a highlight of my week. Extra bonus round: saw my son, who dropped in to use the pool for lap swimming.

So today was pretty much mostly about me. And I enjoy the vast majority of it.

#august2017, #better-health, #consistency, #exercise, #fitness, #friends, #gym, #happy, #health, #progress

Fear, anxiety, not surrendering my training wheels (day 5)

As I noted in yesterday’s post , there were two events on Thursday evening that have me thinking and navel-gazing about my own reactions, actions, behaviors, and impulses. I started to write about both as one blog post, but on reflection it seems they are significant enough to break them into different posts. Besides, on my quest for posting something every day in August, I hope there is some meat with the potatoes.

When I was a kid and learned to ride a bike, I did so completely on my own and without training wheels. My dad was not available to put them on my bicycle, nor were he or my mother much interested in teaching me how to ride. Being semi-resourceful and already accustomed to having my little girl heart disappointed with strings of empty promises, I set out to learn on my own.

Down the street, there was a house with a low chain link fence. It was perfect height for tiny me to learn about 2-wheeled balance and still having something to hold onto or to grab when the inevitable weeble-wobble took over. The fence itself was maybe 30 yards long, and I painstakingly would go up and back every afternoon and on the weekends for a couple of weeks until I go the hang of staying upright on my bike. I fell repeatedly and had skinned up knees and elbows and even my chin to show for it, but I persisted. After what seemed like forever, I could successfully ride down the street under my own power without the benefit of my fence. Or training wheels.

I was really anxious those first few trips down the street away from my fence, and I kept coming back, practicing my craft with that security blanket, until I had enough confidence to go farther. But every time I fell – which that first year was practically every day – I would return to my training grounds until I was sure I was ready to go it alone again.

My friend K is killing it with her work in the gym. It is/was a lifelong dream to learn to be strong, and she has crossed off that item and is well on her way to updating it with new achievements. Thursday night she deadlifted 250 lbs., a new personal record, and she is so stoked about it. I share her excitement and am so happy for her in this latest, greatest milestone, as she has only been doing barbell deadlifting a few months. K was involved in a very serious auto accident a few years ago, and she and J have described for me how painful her efforts when she started training a couple of years ago and look at her now. She is an inspiration to me, a shining example of hard work, disciplined dedication, and overall toughness.

Yet my excitement for her accomplishment has a thread of anxiety running through it. What if she hurts herself by pushing too hard?

Fear is a long-running theme in my life, and I recognize the bias in my reaction to the news. I’m overjoyed, excited, thrilled to death for my friend, yet inside I can feel that curl of anxiety in the pit of my stomach about whether or not she should be attempting this much weight at this point in her weight lifting career. The fear, anxiety, concern is not warranted. Learning to lift safely is what brought me to J in the first place, and K is of a similar mindset. Nevermind that I used that anxiety and fear as a crutch to not do the work, at least initially, but I am self-aware enough to know when I am making excuses to give in to my fears and stay safely ensconced in my happy comfort zone and when I am being irrational and unwilling to even try.

I certainly do not want my bias and strain of gym crazy to unduly influence my friendships. I do my best stay aware and couch my concerns in a positive way that does not sound like the panic and anxiety I may actually feel.

Thoughts about perception and fears were brewing in the back of my mind writing my training recap Thursday. Partly triggered by my kitchen sink thoughts that come with training, partly by stuff on Facebook and anecdotes shared in my fat loss group.

I completely understand how my fear and anxiety will hold me back, both in my better health quest and in other aspects of my personal and professional lives. I am not brave or courageous or noble or anything else particularly admirable for setting fear aside and donning my big girl capris and turning down the volume on that negative noise aside and just trying, faltering, even failing, and getting up and doing it again until those F words fade into the background of my thoughts and activities.

I’m not an especially extroverted personality and actually feel pretty damn socially awkward much of the time. Yet I meet people, present proposals where they pay me money to do work for them, and they hire me and frequently are happy with the service I provide. It’s uncomfortable for me, meeting new clients and presenting myself in a way that feels competent and trustworthy. And even when I don’t particularly want the engagement it feels like rejection if they choose to hire someone else.

This is part of who I am, and I have learned to accept it and make it work for me. I freely admit to still having to work at not giving a shit what people think. Mentally preparing this post in my head, it has occurred to me that I fear the casual cruelty that I perceive when some random stranger says something negative to or about me. It hurts my feelings and is very hard to hear. And while I am infinitely tougher about that stuff now, I have not yet deadened all those nerve endings. Probably, hopefully I never will, lest I too become the mean and insensitive person in my nightmares.

But I have come to understand it is the words that are hurtful, not the person uttering them. The mean guy saying unkind things is simply manifestation of the internal megaphone of what I think about myself, and therein lies the difficulty of facing that person again, hearing their words in the echo chamber of my mind and forcing me to face up to humiliating thoughts I hold true about myself.

As I have grown more confident and shut down the falsehoods negative girl propagates, realistic girl has stepped up to take her place. Realistic girl is not the Pollyanna Positive that manifests for everyone around me, because I so want to perceive the world in the best light possible and think so highly of those with whom I associate. I think realistic girl keeps me grounded, so my heart is not broken 20 times daily by the disappointment of people being people.

I frame this post with that much background about my fear and anxiety because it is relevant. For so long I was afraid of change, afraid of the hard work and complicated steps involved with change, afraid I was not up to the challenge and lacked the intellect and other resources necessary to effect the change I desired. Hell, I was afraid to want to change, period.

Then one day it really hit home that I wanted to live a productive life and not be a burden to my husband and family with future me in failing health. I became more fearful of that outcome than paralyzed by my anxiety of the hard work and potential for failure in trying now to change it while I still have the physical resources and mental capacity to try.

So began the tiny little steps toward my better health quest and its unintended conseuences.

I’m trying hard to be smarter, to listen to fab trainer J and others whose opinions I trust. I am reading experts, involved with my fat loss group. Things are going well.

Then again – I wonder if I should take my newfound confidence and start *gasp* setting some goals? I have overcome my aversion to the scale; maybe I can do the next step and set more specific goals?

I don’t think I’m ready for that, and I tell myself it’s perfectly okay to be a mostly goal-less person. Objectives are good; I am striving to get up out of bed and into the gym most days. Check – habit primarily established. Healthier eating? Working on it. No particular timeline, no deadlines to miss, no falling short of preconceived expectations. Success is the series of little wins that slowly lead to long-term changes.

Training wheels, safety rails, balance aids – they do make me feel safe even if I no longer need them to keep me upright. I know they are there to help catch me and soften the falls I am likely to face as time marches on and the work becomes more detailed and complex. It’s scary and exciting at the same time. So in my better health quest, I still need the guidance of my village of experts and the give-and-take support and encouragement of our tribe. As a body of influence they insulate and protect me, mostly from myself and the doubts that would otherwise cripple me and have stopped my progress long ago.

And for that, I am infinitely grateful.

#anxiety, #august2017, #better-health, #challenges, #emotional-health, #exercise, #fear, #fitness, #friends, #goals, #gym, #happy, #health, #inspiration, #mental-health, #progress

Fat empowerment (day 4)

Two events happened on Thursday evening that have me thinking and navel-gazing about my own reactions, actions, behaviors, and impulses. As an aside, my own gym adventures were cut somewhat short today with a hip tweaking pain that made me eliminate a couple of lower body things from the List in order to return and exercise in future days. Not sure what I did or why it was giving me so much grief, but I believe it was the right call. 

Lately I have been particularly focused on the “beautiful at any size” message. It is not something I talk about a lot in casual conversation, but my stronger feelings on the topic came out in discussion with a friend last night.

Having never been a thin or small woman, I remain clueless as to what it’s like to be very slender or have anyone express concern about my not eating enough. Knowing ladies of that particular body type, I understand it can be annoying to be questioned about how much they are eating and if they weigh enough to be healthy. Thin shaming is apparently not the social taboo that fat shaming remains.

I have been overweight, obese, fat, heavy – however you describe weighing more than a realistic ideal weight for my frame, I am it. I have spent several years treating type 2 diabetes and high cholesterol with medication and feeling depressed and helplessly hopeless about the impact my sedentary lifestyle and crappy eating habits had on my health. Having never been someone who identifies as beautiful or with any potential for that standard, my only desire has been to remain invisible to mean people, the casually cruel (but with good intentions) who would suggest that I would be so much prettier if I just lost the weight or some other silly, pointless sentiment. Fuck good intentions – that sort of conversation is and was humiliating to me and everyone else I know who has struggled with maintaining a healthy weight.

If I am being charitable, I can see that there is good intention behind the “beautiful at any size” messages. Again, fuck good intention. Sorry, but beauty is a superficial standard and only skin deep. Putting forth an “empowering” message like that should include the warning labels of all the risks and chronic conditions carrying too much fat and extra weight present.

From this evolving mindset, conversation with a friend last night. Early 40s, divorced, she has gained about 40-plus pounds in the last few years, a combination of aging and hormones, ongoing sedentary lifestyle, food choices. Having never really had much of an issue with her weight, though, she’s having a hard time adjusting to this new reality, where she has to work at maintaining a healthy weight. We have talked about it many, many times through the years, and she has even joked for every pound I lose through exercise and improving my eating habits she picks it up and adds one of her own. Shortly after I started working with J, her physician had just diagnosed type 2 diabetes in addition to high blood pressure and high cholesterol and put her on the first step oral medication in addition to what she was already taking to treat her other preventable conditions. She chalked it up to stress – tax season had just ended, she was eating a lot of crap, now that the stress storm had passed it would level out. The weight gain had started, but it was just a few pounds. Fast forward to now, her medication dosages have steadily increased every few months when her numbers continue to go up instead of down. Diabetes, high cholesterol and high blood pressure, treating all with mediation, doing nothing to modify her diet or increase her activity. Her diabetes is advancing quickly enough that her doc is making noise about insulin injections.

I wince every time we discuss it. I talk about my own journey – I can painfully recall pretty much the exact same conversations with my own doctor and the steady increase in medication to treat what I refused to try and help myself with. I have invited her to join me at the gym, introduce her to trainer J to see if she can work with him, talked to her about resources I have found that are helping me with adjusting my own eating habits. No interest at all. I get it; she’s not ready.

Understand I do not do this with the zealotry of the born again; I am not that type of person. However, when she is complaining about limitations to clothing choices – she hates shopping in the plus size department – or pain in her knees/back/body in general, I offer the things that have helped me. I recognize her unwillingness to own her problems, though, and I recognize the limitations of influence and her readiness to hear the harder truths. The matter drops until the next time we’re hanging out and I’m eating a salad and drinking water and she’s having fully loaded pizza and drinking beers. No judgment, but I also grow weary of the whining and am not shy about calling her out on contradictory behavior in a kind and caring manner.

Apparently no one likes to be called out on contradictory behavior, especially by someone who up until recently always outweighed her by at least 20 lbs.

But unlike many other friendships, our relationship has weathered these storms. Last night she called me very upset about a first date experience. While I am sympathetic and sorry to hear it did not go well and left her feeling this upset, I was alarmed by the double standard she was employing based on her recent adoption of “beautiful at any size” empowerment.

No one I know is an outright fat shamer, or we would not be associating much at all. However, I judge no one too harshly for their preferences. The single and dating people I know – each of them has qualities he seeks out in dating partners and physical appearance does play into those choices. People in my tribe tend to be really honest about what is politically incorrect to admit, and I don’t think any of us should have to apologize for desiring a partner that meets our minimum standard requirements. Just don’t be an unnecessarily harsh dick about it when someone you meet falls short.

My friend met this guy through an online dating site and were both seeking a relationship partner. They had been talking and chatting a couple of weeks, had exchanged pictures, seemed to have a lot in common and got along really well. My friend is bright, accomplished, vivacious, and caring; she is a quality person worth knowing and gives her all when she involved with someone. Anyway, last night was their first date, and she says she could tell by his reaction to her appearance when he walked into the restaurant that he was turned off. They had dinner, but there was a lot more formality and distance to their in-person interaction than she perceived when they were talking and chatting online and on the phone. They parted after the meal and she called me shortly after getting home.

In her mind, her weight and appearance should matter less; he had never said a word about seeking “Barbie” or a “Victoria’s Secret model.” I called her out on those very bitter descriptions. Most reasonable men know that Barbie is made or plastic and VS models are less than 1% of the female population and probably not seeking an attorney working for the state of California. I could practially hear  her waving her hand around dismissing my practical reply; point of fact, he didn’t openly state he wanted someone small. I rephrased it: you mean he did not say he wanted a woman who was less fat.

Yep, used the dreaded F word. I am a terrible friend.

Because this is an ongoing problem for me and all such “I am [insert wants to be a protected class of people here] hear me roar.” He was not interviewing her for an accounting job and rejecting her because she’s overweight. IF her weight was the issue – and we do not know for sure that it is – it is well within his right to have that preference. He’s an active, outdoorsy kind of guy that likes to hike and cycle and do all sorts of physical stuff. Probably he would like a height/weight proportional partner to share in such activities with him. The photo she has posted is a few years old; she looks similar but her face (and body) are both 40 lbs. fuller. That in itself is an issue for me, one we have discussed numerous times. If we are talking honesty and truth in advertising, she needs to update her profile and be a lot more realistic about who she is today. She’s still bright and funny and interesting, but she does not hike or cycle or even walk much at all anyone. “Too busy” she says to exercise or pursue a healthier diet. My average client fillability is 50 hours per week and I still make it to the gym nearly every day and have somehow learned to restrain my fork most of the time. Stop making excuses for your lifestyle choices.

Tough love girl was most definitely in the wheelhouse.

My friend is technically part of the BBW ranks now, and I am sorry to be the realist in her life pointing that out. She still thinks and has the same attractiveness preferences as she did when she was lighter, and I do not condemn her for that either. But I think her preference bias has great impact on her level of disappointment when the men she finds attractive do not reciprocate her interest. While in her mind it should not matter, reality is that it does matter. And the men she desires that would prefer a woman that is height/weight proportionate are not necessarily douchebags for having that preference. Unless they are unnecessarily harsh dicks about it, then all bets are off.

Her hereforeto unwillingness to update her profile to reflect present-day reality is telling about that issue as well. Intellectually she understands the disconnect. Emotionally she’s unwilling to accept responsibility for her choices.

Maybe I am the terrible friend to be practical and pragmatic when she was so upset. Perhaps I could have avoided expressing the obvious. But to trash a man who treated you nicely and politely during your time together because he did not seem attracted to you is just plain wrong. When I was single I was rejected more often than not, and yeah, it smarted. But then as now, I would always prefer a guy be honest about it than try to lead me on and fake it.

She agrees I am probably correct in my assessment, then complained that I don’t have her back. I do, but empowering delusions about the evils of the common man because he has his own attraction points for a dating partner is not in my life’s job description.

Now, as I write that, I recognize that when I met M, he was a reigning ultra marathon champion and I outweighed him (at that time 136 lbs. on a 5’11” frame) by at least 40 or 50 lbs. I was not grossly overweight, but I was not fit nor was I slender/skinny. At that time the diabetes had not yet manifested, so I was in pretty good overall health.

Time, marriage, stress, life – I’ve added more weight to my frame and so has he. M has never told me that I need to lose weight or even that I should, but he has known when I have been unhappy and my self-esteem in the toilet and quietly encouraged me in whatever effort I would put forth. He is delighted that I am as active and engaged as I am in my gym pursuits, and he compliments me lavishly (for M) on the evolving shape of my body. Does he like me better, love me more now that I’m in better physical condition? Hardly. But he’s far happier that I am healthier, more confident, more competent physically. While I do not really want to go hiking with him every weekend, I will enjoy it more when we do. Our interests and fitness pursuits are different, and we have long accepted and learned to celebrate and enjoy our differences as well as our commonalities.

I suppose that’s what bothers me most about the fat empowerment movement, its inherent demand that we not only accept obesity as a lifestyle choice but we embrace it and not hold it against those who choose to let it be a ruling priority in their life. Physically and emotionally – it’s unhealthy. Change is hard. I know it and live it every day. But enabling unhealthy choices is not the answer either. Demonizing people of any gender who have different preferences and priorities from your own is wrong as well. I hate to lose another friend to delusional craziness of the only right answer is her poor choices, but I also refuse to try and be someone I am not. We can agree to disagree, or she can grow tired of my pragmatism in the face of her complaints and distance herself. Time will tell.

#august2017, #better-health, #choices, #diet, #emotional-health, #exercise, #fat, #fitness, #friends, #health, #healthy-eating, #mental-health, #obesity, #relationships

A “mom win” and other aspects of today (day 2)

I am a ginormous fan of non-scale victories when it comes to my better health quest. Sometimes those are not even diet and exercise related at all.

My son, G, is a primarily a runner, although he does bike and swim as well. A month or so ago he asked me about joining my gym, primarily for the pool, and I offered to set him up with membership. I also suggested he take a few of my sessions with fab trainer J, because if he wanted to lift a little coaching on form and technique would help keep him on the safe and sane track. He had his first session last week and was feeling it afterwards. But I’d suggested if he ever wanted to work out with me, I’d be happy to have a gym buddy.

Last night he texted wondering if I’d be in the gym tonight (I typically am on Wednesday evenings, hanging out with my friend K) and I asked if he wanted to join me. Sure! he replied, and we set up a meet time.

Made my whole week. My adult son wants to hang out with me. In public even. Where I would introduce him to my kick-ass friend who is a rising rock star in lifting.

The experience was a first for us, made more special in that I could keep up with what he was doing, having been training with J for awhile and understanding all the stuff on his List. We got to chat while he worked (I continue in my regular Wednesday evening supervisory capacity and did not match him set for set) and I go to be fairly impressed by his efforts. For sure I know I do not want to do fab trainer J’s job; if the client didn’t care, I probably would cease caring as well.

It was a super fun evening with my son, getting to see my friend K, and being uncharacteristically rude to a supplement sales rep. On the latter item, I feel a little badly about my unconscious, reflexive response to being accosted about supplements almost immediately as I walked through the front door of the gym. Plus J had just been texting me about the dude’s remarks to him and fab trainer made the mistake of describing the guy to me. So when he came up to me about trying his supplement in that overly hearty, sleazy salesman way, I told him his supplements were crap and he was a douche for pushing overpriced crap I don’t need. He laughed off my remarks – maybe he didn’t hear me or think  I was actually that woman who is that kind of rude – but on the way out I felt a twinge of conscience at my behavior. Not enough to stop and apologize, but still.

Before all that, though, I was in the gym this morning plodding my way through a couple of Lists. First I warmed up, then I went through a core-focused stability ball warm-up J prepared last year. It has been awhile on that one, and I would love to say it was easy-peasy and what was all the whining about when it was new. Nope. Not happening. Still challenging enough to try and reach 20 reps per set (I think I made 15 on most of things, 20 on a couple of them with rest pauses to pep-talk myself into continuing.

Then I proceeded to the FreeMotion machine for a run through an upper body List. Neck and shoulder kink have magically disappeared, and since I had planned to be doing something leg-intense on still slightly sore and tight hamstrings with G and friend K later tonight, I focused on upper body.

So. Much. Fun.

When mind is clear and really focused on the work, the workload feels really good. It was nothing spectacular, no uber special effort or amazing breakthroughs to report. Just a regular day, regular practice, methodically working my way through a List exercise by exercise, set by set, until concluded. An item crossed off my to-do for the day.

But it’s still gratifying to get it done. I enjoy the experience, thinking it through, imagining all my muscles working and maybe growing stronger. Machines seem far more mysterious to me than the dumbbells; I have a far easier time with envisioning body and muscles working and growing stronger with the dumbbells than with the same weight on the machines. Plus doing the same exercise on different brand or style of machine feels like a unique experience that is not working the muscles in the same way, although I can logically see that any perceived differences exist primarily in my head.

And that’s okay. Mind is a powerful tool that either works for me or against me in my exercise efforts. I am continually coming to grips with that reality.

There is no denying how much it makes me smile to know the muscle work in my lats and back is still felt hours after I have left the gym. More than legs or lower body, that sort of worked sensation in the back and upper body makes me think Wow! Legs work all the time. Back and shoulders and arms? Not so much, and definitely not in the same ways.

And finally, M said something this morning that still makes me laugh.

I was getting ready to leave and he said “I wish we had a lot of video of your legs when they were fat.” Yep, he said that as a standalone sentence. I actually laughed out loud and interrupted his thought, because seriously – what sane man uses that F word about his wife ever and stays happily married? Once again, another example of how we are not a normal couple. But then he continued with “Because you could see the difference between what they were like then and how different they are now.”

It is true; I do not perceive the changes in the same way he does. Lately I have been wondering about my seemingly pudgy knees, except they are not so much pudge as the emerging leg muscle makes legs and knees look different. I don’t think my knees were ever that flabby, but maybe they were; we don’t have any video of my legs when they were fat so I will probably never know for sure.

And not knowing is a huge step forward in this particular battle. I am happy that legs and knees continue to work well and serve my purposes.

It was a good day.

#august2017, #better-health, #exercise, #family, #fitness, #friends, #gym, #happy, #health, #inspiration, #motivation

PT-44.1: Exercise adventurer

Monday morning, training with J. We are still in our push-pull (not press-pull – somehow got it wrong last week) series of events and learned a couple of new machines and things today. Just a whole lot to talk about with a weekend of reading and thinking.

Key Takeaways

Coming in PT-44.2: Exercise adventurer.

What We Did

Coming in PT-44.2: Exercise adventurer.

How It Felt

Coming in PT-44.2: Exercise adventurer.

Kitchen Sink Thoughts

The kitchen sink is rather full today, a byproduct of a weekend spent reading Facebook posts from fitness people J has recommended, liked prior posts, or just crossed my feed and kind of made sense. On top of which, I just had a semi-disconnected weekend, in that work-work and full-time job trauma drama were pretty distant. If anything, I was immersed in fitness-related stuff and not blogging about it. Until today, of course. And naturally, since I was thinking about it, I brought it up with J (and others) in my life in one communication forum or another. All great things.

An unfortunate quirk of mine is to read or hear things in big, broad, anonymous (as in I am just one of the great unseen masses to the author) forums and take them personally, as if this writer posting an opinion or sharing his/her thoughts or information is looming large and pointing fingers and highlighting every real and imagined fault in my better health quest. Hell, doesn’t even need to be related to my better health quest; it could be just my life in general and their framework of “living right.” While I know it is mostly my inner insecure person running in circles flailing her arms in an extremely agitated state, I want to chalk it up to my years of fire-and-brimstone southern baptist church attendance (from age 6 until I turned 12 and decided I no longer wished to associate with the hypocrites I saw there every Sunday and Wednesday), but the more rational, more balance side of me has to take what I have just read or heard in a podcast and really think about why it impacts me. Could be the writer or speaker is just correct in his assessments and opinions, or that I am or have been guilty of the less desirable behaviors he is describing. Anymore, it is only unhealthy for me if I only think I am guilty or continuing poor choice behavior patterns. There are an equal number of positive attributes I have adopted or trying to adopt in my own life. If I am going to turn the mirror on myself for negative behaviors, I need to be balanced and do the same for positive changes as well.

Such is the case this weekend with a post discussing consistency in the gym or with exercise. This post is from Alex Viada via Facebook (dated June 10, 2017):

Integral to consistency is sustainability.

Consistency doesn’t mean never skipping a day. Consistency means doing something today that will ensure you are still doing something next year, five years from now, ten years from now.

And that something you’re doing today may very well be taking a day off. Because dedication isn’t about obsession, it isn’t a sprint, it isn’t some senseless display of self-imposed sacrifice. It isn’t the “hustle” or the “grind”. It isn’t some other nonsense word that just reeks of burnout. Dedication is an ultramarathon, it’s a winding path forward, and it’s all too often taking a step back today to catch your breath, knowing you have the rest of your life to take the next thousand steps forward.

I am kind of madly in love with this post. Because it makes me feel like I finally get M’s simplified “do something every day” with exercise to make progress with getting fitter. For the most part, I have incorporated this into my life and lifestyle. For the most part, I am successful with this concept, or have been recently (about 21 months). Yet I know myself and know how slippery that slope is to backslide down into not going back to the gym for months and years once more. I have done it so many times before it’s impossible for me to feel like I have succeeded, even after almost 2 years (this month) of working with J, even knowing I just resigned and have another 36 weeks of sessions on the books. While hopefully J will be present and accounted for with each and every one of those purchased sessions, I know enough now to feel comfortable that I can and will find resources to help me make it work no matter who is writing future Lists or trying to teach me how to use a machine or another piece of equipment. Maybe I am less likely now than previous periods to fall off the wagon, the possibility exists. Considering my fitness pursuits in terms of sobriety, I am sort of a recovering non-exerciser who is on the path to staying clean and in the gym. It is a choice I make every day, including days to take a day off or go forth and dilly-dally pursuing things that are new, giving me grief, a lot more fun than others.

And that in itself was another topic of discussion. Pat Flynn, another fitness coach I follow on Facebook and am on his mailing list, had an email about Training v. Working Out. In my life, it’s mostly semantics, but the topic was intriguing enough that I had to forward the email to J, friend J, and a couple of other friends for their thoughts and opinions. Because I’m kind of geeky that way.

When I am speaking of training, I am talking about Mondays and Thursdays with J, going through a new or updated List, working on my skills, correcting and tweaking my form, adding more weight, or all of the above. Practice is what I do on my own time, pursuing a List of the day. There is no real structure to it; J does not say “do this, that, the other one between now and Thursday.” No, the only structure is that I try not to do the same List 2 days in a row. Sometimes it’s a huffy-puffy day, sometimes it’s an upper or lower day, sometimes it’s plexes day. I wander to and fro, but left to my own devices, I will nearly always gravitate toward the dumbbells. Because it has the fewest opportunities to be inconveniencing someone else in their pursuits.

As far as working out, that’s what I do on Wednesday evenings when hanging out with gym sistah K. I have usually already completed my List in the morning, so the evening time is following along with whatever she’s doing and having a pleasant gab-fest visit. Lately, she’s been doing barbell deadlifts, and while she is doing that, I am enthusiastically following along with my dumbbell Romanian deadlifts while keeping an eye on her efforts and being a supportive gym compadre. That’s me working out – following no particular program, pursuing no particular goal. Because when I first began my quest to overcome my gym crazy, a “work out” was what everyone else was doing. “Trying to keep up” was my goal with my own pursuits.

But back to Pat Flynn’s missive about training v. working out. Quoting definitions directly from his email (by the way, his blog is www.chroniclesofstrength.com):

Training – Working toward something specific.
Working Out – Trying to fatigue the muscles.

As I said, semantics to me. “Better health” is about the most specific goal I presently employ. Trying to fatigue muscles? In my mind and view, fatiguing muscles seems to still happen pretty naturally, for me, with no “trying” involved. I also understand my definition of fatigue is likely very different than what most of the target audience thinks, so again, this is all about semantics. But interesting semantics all the same. Because J and I never tend to speak in terms of labels, absolutes, and the like, I just meander along through our sessions and my practices without giving too much thought to how the process is described. I’m there. I’m working at something and trying for good form and technique. All good.

Such is the mush in my head about exercise, fitness, better health. Inside and outside the gym. J has neither the time nor the ability to cover all my interests in the hours we spend in session, so I do my research and reading outside the gym, then drag it in when I have questions or trip over something curious. I tend to follow or at least read fitpros J mentions or references, because my geek self likes to understand origins and how the depth of the expanding exercise library.

In our earliest days of training, I would occasionally look up an exercise to try and remember the shape and ways it was supposed to work. Except I very quickly learned that others on the internet may be doing the same glute bridge in some way that looked entirely different to me than when J demonstrated it. Now, I get that maybe their shape and size might have impacted the angles of their limbs, but back then – I was freaked out and vowing never to look up anything ever again.

These days, I do tend to read a lot about weight training and fitness in general; I like the exposure to different ideas and training modalities (another new term just recently acquired). My exercise and fitness education still feels pre-K level to me, but I’m okay with that. Joining the fitpro ranks is neither a goal nor even an objective for me; I am more a dilettante in wanting to know stuff for my own purposes. I enjoy having some less vague notion of what people are doing in the gym and my other fitness wanderings.

Knowledge is security for me. If I can understand it, I feel better about the process – any process – as a whole. There are training methods and sports pursuits that do not interest me at all, but it’s good for me to have somewhat factual basis for my thoughts and inclinations. I dislike organized sports because I find them boring, and because I do not play any, haven’t in years, and sucked at them when I did, largely because I lack the competitive spirit, killer instincts, and coaches who could spend enough time with me to inspire me to consistently practice and try to improve. Not a natural athlete, and after 2 years of training with J, it’s even more apparent that it takes swimming pools of sweat multiple days per week to see any improvements.

Even now, I don’t do well in exercise classes. I don’t mind being in the area and observing what other people are doing around me, but I don’t want to participate with them. It seems a least 48% of why I am not gaining traction in yoga, the other 52% being I am not bendy and any hopes I have of increasing my flexibility will require a lot more intent and persistence than I am willing to muster. One thing to be on my own, or training with J and falling off and out of the 1-legged everything at some point or another, and quite another to be in a class full of people doing everything reasonably well while I struggle mightily and still don’t get it.

Plus I just don’t like class situations, I think. I’m fine if it’s a social thing – going to yoga with a friend, test driving a class in the gym with a pal who wants company – but not my brand for everyday fitness.

Which brings me to crossfit. *sigh* I have several friends who love, adore, worship at the alter of crossfit. If I am addicted to my Lists and the gym, they are something worse with the crossfit. I have run out of words to say or plainer thoughts to share on the subject of why crossfit sounds like a Very Bad Idea for me personally, so we have reluctantly agreed to disagree about our methods and obsessions with fitness. Yet stuff still comes up from time to time, and I cannot resist sharing the links or information that crosses my path that supports my dubious position on the topic. This article  from the weekend (brought to my Facebook feed by Trevor Johnson) – I simply couldn’t resist forwarding it to all my crossfit-crazed friends. (Here is the link to Trevor’s HIFC Show #10 discussing this article and diet-related matters.)

All the crossfitters I know personally are mid-40s to mid-50s. They love it and  have tried many times to get me to consider trying it. Ummm, no thank you. I am far too paranoid about injury in my own gym pursuits to try something that sounds so wrong for me. Of those ladies (they are all women), one is presently recovering from shoulder surgery, another was out for weeks with an ankle injury, and yet another has had to take weeks off for recovery after a mishap or more serious gym tweak. Those tales alone are enough to keep me safely ensconced in my gym with my stretchy bands and dumbbells and machines and at home with my (borrowed for the month) 8 kg kettlebell.

I don’t know enough about crossfit to talk smack about it, yet I know enough to steer clear as not a good fit for me. I want them to be successful in their exercise pursuits, but I worry about long-term sustainability. So when they tree me about being a bad or unsupportive friend (not often, but it happens), I retreat to the “sustainability” argument. Having rebuilt joints may eventually be just as good and as stable as the original equipment, but I vastly prefer the idea of keeping my original equipment joints in good working order. And I have empirical evidence that crossfit can injury you and your joints. Badly. No thanks. Prefer my slow-mo, safe and sane exercise methods.

Yeah, kind of a busy exercise geekery weekend all swirling around in my head this morning. Some of this I chatted about with J, some of it I forgot until I opened this window with my notes about stuff I wanted to talk about today.

Then there is diet and healthy eating stuff. Oh my – this one has been building for the last few weeks.

So trainer J uses his own body like a test kitchen with regard to food and eating. Of the course of our training partnership I have watched him bulk up and lean down at various times. It’s fascinating to watch and to discuss in real time.

Last year it was veganism – J was a vegan much of 2016. This year there has been no real theme until recently, when he began a quest to pursue simpler, higher satiety food choices that are not hyperpalatable. He began what is affectionately known as the potato diet.

Now, this is something I can kinda/sorta get behind. Vegan? I might have starved to death, because I am such an insanely picky eater. Because I actually like potatoes, it is far easier for me to test and even copy a few of his meals with potatoes, vegetables, chicken apple sausage – delicious. However, since I tend to TRY to pursue a lower carb diet, I cannot eat as much or as many plain boiled potatoes for my primary fuel source. But the rest of it – the vegetables, the fruits, the protein powder – these are a lot of things I do already and could definitely amp up and increase my intake and search for food balance.

Listening to him discuss his experiences and alterations to his eating habits, its encouraging. Yeah, eating lots and lots of potatoes seems a bit extreme, particularly for me, but eating more fruit, eating more vegetables, and eating leaner meats and protein sources – these are things that make sense to me and my limited cooking interests.

More importantly, and interesting to the accountant within, the money saved on this version of feeding himself. After his first few weeks, his grocery bill is significantly less. Even a non-frugalista like me can appreciate that aspect of the calorie budgeting process.

Wow, long post already and not a word written about actual exercise today. Definitely a 2-post recap today.

 

#better-health, #diet, #emotional-health, #exercise, #fitness, #friends, #gym, #happy, #health, #healthy-eating, #inspiration, #mental-health

PT-43: Pulling forward

Thursday morning, training with J. First appointment of the day was 30 minutes earlier than usual, so J asked if I wanted to come in 30 minutes earlier, giving me a little extra time. All good things. Except first appointment had to cancel and we could have gone back to our usual start time – not a problem for me. All good points that fab trainer J is truly fabulous and generous with his time.

Key Takeaways

What I have learned from all my training sessions: there is good form and technique, some exercises are more effective or productive, but a “bad” exercise has yet to cross my Lists. Probably this is partly why I depend upon J so much; keep me from doing stupid stuff or acquiring even more bad habits. There are things I like less, there are things I will avoid whenever possible, but there is truly nothing that makes me feel physically poorly afterwards.

Perhaps someday I will also develop stronger preferences for things than I have to date. I am more a generalist and interested in everything until it either hurts me or bores me. And even if it bores me, I do it anyway because it’s good for me. Kind of like eating vegetables; I really don’t love most of them, but I eat them because they are good for me. I am always glad to be learning new skills, and learning the big barbell and how to use one effectively falls under this umbrella. Still don’t see myself as a powerlifter or even a serious weight lifter, and that’s okay. I do not need a defined goal to learn new skills.

Those stretchy bands! In the back of my mind I keep thinking they will someday be relegated to warm-up routines, yet they keep appearing and evolving into something more challenging and productive. Not sure why I think I want them to go away, but it just occurs to me from time to time that I should be done with them by now. My wanting them gone is probably most recently related to convenience; every time I want to use one for warmup or on a List, I have to go on a search and rescue mission throughout the gym. Annoying. (Yeah, me and my first world problems, I know).

Heavier weights – oh my, it’s so thrilling! I feel ridiculous admitting this to anyone else, but being able to actually use a bigger weight is exciting. I have never thought I was strong. Sometimes, schlepping crap at the office, I still feel kind of weak (but that could be related to the dress and heels and the awkwardness of of carrying boxes of files and records to and fro while trying to keep them away from my dress). The way things sneak up on me and while I am looking doubtful at the weights J suggests, next I know I am capable with them. Maybe not for higher rep ranges, but once upon a time what I use now was in the 6 to 8 rep range, too.

I am an exercise nerd. My fascination with the way things work – like my own body, for example – seems to know few boundaries. Is okay. I keep it mostly to myself.

What We Did

On our List today:

Barbell RDL (61)
High Tension Resist Rotation Press

1-leg DB RDL (25)
Pullover (35)

SB Hamstring Curls
Seated Cable Row

Seated Hamstring Curls
Dual Cable Lat Pulldown

How It Felt

We started with basic form for the barbell Romanian dead lift and getting the feels for the difference in weight distribution for a 41 lb. barbell and its significantly longer length when compared to a 25 or 30 lb. pair of dumbbells. It was okay, not horrible, not too scary. There were no other members right nearby either so I was not too concerned about accidentally bumping someone while moving it to and fro. After the first couple of times hinging with just the bar, J added light weight plates – a pair of 5 lb. plates for a set, then took those off and replaced them with a set of 10 lb. plates. While it feels very different than my beloved dumbbells, it is not unmanageable, and I am too inexperienced right now to have a strong preference one way or the other. Bad habit that happens with dumbbell RDLs (wanting to soften or bend knees on the rise back to the top rather than keep them straight) also reared its ugly head with the barbell. I think I could learn these, and if I am a bad fit for it, there will be no pouting or tears. Mostly it was fascinating how different the weight feels, almost lighter than similar amounts in dumbbells because it is so spread out.

We have not done the band resist rotation press in awhile, much less the high tension resist rotation press. Only real difference is I don’t remember stretching the band out quite so much, to the high tension. When I was doing it right, aka not leaning away from the band a bit too much to maintain the high tension, I definitely felt it in the abs and the obliques. Best cue EVER – rib tuck – also applies here as well. We were using the lightest yellow band and it was still challenging to keep it tensioned and press properly. These are effective; I was feeling my abs all Thursday afternoon.

Big, huge, honking triumph of the day: the 1-leg dumbbell Romanian deadlift with a single 25 lb. dumbbell. When J said to use the 25 as the offset weight, I am quite sure my expression was doubtful. Last 1-leg RDL was with a pair of dumbbells and I struggled – still struggle – with my balance on those. But J has the fully functional, big giant brain and watches people do all sorts of things all day long, so away we went. To my astonishment, I did not immediately fall over or drop the weight on the floor or my foot. Rear leg elevated and weight dropped gracefully for 5 or 6 reps. OMG! I have gained unexpected new balance overnight or am I just stronger now? Could be both. Either way, my excitement over the initial success nearly did me in as I grew more fatigued. But my goodness – I was standing on 1 leg with a 25 lb. dumbbell in my hand! Never imagined such a thing being possible for me. J is a genius.

The pullover is a standard, and I have been doing these with a 25 lb. dumbbell for several months. I kind of love them. I genuinely enjoy the flexibility that has built after months and months of doing pullovers. Today we started out with my standard 25 lb. dumbbell for warm-up and then proceeded on to the 35 lb. dumbbell for a 6 to 8 rep range. While I was extraordinarily aware of when I made the minimum reps, I continued on to the full 8. Because I don’t want to perceive myself as a complete slacker. The one factor I noticed about the weightier weight is the physical size of the 35 lb. dumbbell in my hand being larger than the 25. The way it’s held for the pullover, I could feel the edge of the 35 against my wrist far more than with the 25, the edge of which tends to land more at the edge of my palm. It was not a dealbreaker; I was not complaining to J that this was an unworkable weight because of it’s physical shape. No, I just had to adjust my handhold around the handle and the way my palms pressed against the weight itself. Little things, little tweaks can make the difference between success and less success. I am improving in self-diagnosing what’s a Very Big Deal and what just requires me to change my bit a bit to ensure I am not getting my wrists dug into by the weight. Yay me!

The stability ball hamstring curls are back. I was actually very pleased with my progress since the last time I recall doing these – hips were elevating higher and my curling in was better. However, and I laugh as I type this, J is encouraging to lift hips even higher and curl in just another half inch. I am definitely out of practice, but it feels like my recent streak of kettlebell swinging has done a lot for strengthening my glutes and hamstrings. J as coach is there to coach and instruct and ensure I continually push forward and wring every last drop of productivity out of each exercise. Except I am actually not sure my knee bends in another half inch no matter how high elevated or low hanging hips are off the ball. Like everything fitness and exercise, though, I believe persistent practice will make a difference. I will keep trying.

The seated cable row – every time I visit this machine I feel as if I am relearning technique and proper form all over again. Perhaps from my years of rowing machine rowing or just because my learning curve is steep on this, but there you have it: takes a set (or more) to get into the groove and pick up the right form. Okay, so today it was all about pulling elbows back as far as possible behind you. I am trying hard to remember not to lean back from the waist but utilize the upper back arch and pull with the shoulders and not with the arms. But since we are talking about elbows pulling back, it gets confusing. Always I am thinking about the arch – arch obsessed with this machine as well – and pulling with shoulders back, back, back and that will move elbows back. I need more practice. I cut myself some slack – so many Lists, so few practice days. But for the most I feel as if I understand and capable of performing the basic shape.

My arch obsession follows me around in the gym. It even applies to the seated hamstring curls machine. I understand the shape of this machine; I understand how it’s supposed to work. However, I am also never sure if I should be using lighter weight or heavier weight, and in truth it fluctuates depending on the day. Like the stability ball version, I am watching and thinking about that last half inch of the contraction and the movement. I find myself dilly-dallying with the weights to ensure I can actually feel that last half inch and make it happen. When I use a light enough load to make that last little bit, it feels awfully light for the rest of the movement. If I use an adequately weighty weight load to feel the work all through the movement, the last half inch thing becomes a no-go in the process. So my explorations continue. For today, though, I had a pretty good experience with the last half inch and could feel my hamstrings working that range of movement.

Finally, we moved to the dual cable lat pulldown machine. I always want to lean forward in the shrugged up starting position, where I should be leaned back slightly. Minor correction and easy enough to fix. The arch obsession continues here, with the arching with the upper back coming into full effect while pulling down and feeling a pinch between the shoulder blades. I think anyway. While I am pantomiming it here and writing this paragraph, I’m pretty sure there is a pinch there. But there is no weight involved, and we have had so many recent discussions about arch and pinch between shoulder blades I may be applying it too liberally. But I think I am right; I will have to test my theories in real time tomorrow in the gym.

Kitchen Sink Thoughts

While I have had no urgent or burning desire to learn about using a barbell, my friend K has been had barbell deadlifts on her bucket list and has been killing them the last month, 6 weeks. I have been in the gym and hanging out with her on Wednesday evenings and cheering her on with this pursuit. I had asked J if maybe I too could learn the technique, because I want to be able to support my friend in her interests. And as I said, it is good to learn new skills and how to work with different tools.

My impression – I am neither doomed for failure or destined for hot pursuit of this particular type of equipment. My interest in all things exercise and fascination with learning will keep me interested, and working with K once a week will provide enough practice to feel as if I am intent on learning and refining my technique. She and I can dabble with them for awhile, and perhaps we will both develop a yearning to participate in a deadlifting class. Time will tell.

The longer I go with training and practices on my own, the happier I feel about the whole process. It was renewal time for me, so my next block of sessions is purchased, my session bank refreshed. Yay! Sometimes I think maybe there is not a lot more for me to learn, and I laugh at myself and my own silliness. I need only look at the session recaps to see that there is always something new to do, whether it is adding more weight or working on my form or just learning to push myself to keep going when I really wold rather just stop now, thank you.

Like everything else in life my discipline is imperfect, but I give myself good more for consistently trying to improve. Fears about just learning and reinforcing bad habits are very far in my rearview these days. I find myself thinking about offhand comments J might make to me – try to go lower in my squats, butt back butt back butt back in so many exercises, and I realize that the process is like an infinity band. The more I think I know, the more I realize how little I know. And I like that. I hate to imagine me at the end of the learning curve; in my mind that is my time to die.

Since we are venturing forward with weightier weights, it means working in the big boys’ room more often, because that’s where the heavier range of dumbbells live. After 2 years of training (it’s anniversary month! Unfortunately not quite a cake occasion, but maybe we bend the rules.) I would imagine my gym crazy completely conquered. But nope, I still feel the hairs of anxiety dancing on the back of my neck when I go in there by myself and the usual crowd of men and far more confident-looking women are there working. I give myself credit for improvement, but am realistic that it is still a thing. Oh well. Still plenty of time to strengthen my spine and ensure my big girl capris are in place.

Wow – coming up on 2 years. How different my life is now. I’m starting a list and a separate post to celebrate and commemorate. And maybe there is cake? Maybe.

 

 

 

#addictive, #better-health, #diet, #emotional-health, #exercise, #fitness, #friends, #gym, #happy, #health, #healthy-eating, #inspiration, #mental-health, #motivation