So 2 weeks has gone by and I think the reason why I've put off writing is because I fear that what I'm writing isn't important enough or intriguing to anyone but me. Then I realized that I'm not writing this for people's approval or compliments. I'm writing so I can get it out of my system and put my words into action. If what I write can help someone then that makes me happy and it's an extra bonus.
2lbs in 2 weeks are not good stats but those are my stats as of today. Not the best but it's something. I've been working my butt off but I've been sabotaging myself with the weekends. Last weekend I ate out with friends and had chicken wings and fries. Then had some dessert the next day. Self sabotage! All that hard work so the scale can go down and then back up again. This week I did much better and it's the weekend again. Ah! I ate an early dinner (small bites of dessert included) but I resisted to eat anything afterwards. Yay me! I'm proud of myself for not giving into the cravings and hunger pains. One small step forward.
I decided that a small step forward is better than stumbling backwards. I tend to trip myself up by my own self doubt and petty excuses. "I walked the kids to school and back so that's enough exercise." "It's the weekend so I can cheat a little." "A couple bites won't make a difference (then a couple bites turns into eating the whole thing)." "I've worked so hard and I'm not losing enough weight. Maybe I should give up." I could go on and on but then this whole post would be a list of my excuses. After thinking all those things I decided that I needed to tell myself to shut up and work. I'm pretty mean to myself but it's so true. I need to banish all those negative thoughts and get to work. Stop making excuses and stop giving up before I even really tried. Yeah, I might not have lost the weight that I wanted to but I've been more active and lifting more. I feel like I have more definition in my arms and legs. My shorts are fitting a little looser, which reminds me that I need to get a measuring tape and take measurements.
I've been thinking of my glory days (not that I really had any). I've been thinking of when I was 20 years old and training. I trained for only 3 months and entered my first powerlifting competition. I was the only girl in my weight class and division. I lifted "raw" which means I lifted without assistance from other equipment or gear. Just me and my leather belt that my coach made just for me. I was the shortest person there. I had doubts and figured I wouldn't place because I had injured my hamstring the week before. It hurt like crazy but I slapped on some icy hot and did my best. I gave it my all. I weighed 130. I ended up benching 115, my personal best. I dead lifted 241, another personal best. I was in agony by the time the squat event started. I went back to the bathroom and used almost the rest of the tube of icy hot on my leg and said a prayer. I remember my short prayer. "Heavenly Father, I've worked so hard. Please just help me to do my best." That's pretty much all I could ask for. He couldn't make me stronger than I already was. That would've taken more months of training. He could only help me to use the strength I had that day to perform the best that I could.
I was terrified. Squat was my best event and my favorite. I wanted to lift as much as I could but I didn't want to injure myself more. I stepped out of the bathroom looking down at myself in my unitard. Boy, did I look ridiculous but I felt good about myself. I worked hard, put in my months of training. I saw all these other athletes with their special equipment and special shoes. I looked down at my regular shoes that I used for cross training and weightlifting. Just basic shoes. Everyone else looked like they had been doing this for a while and I was the newbie.
My number was called and I stepped up to the bar. I don't even remember what weight I started at but I think it was 230. That was my personal best at the gym. I placed my shoulders exactly where they needed to go and I squatted the weight. Not that it was easy but it felt easier than I remembered. Okay so that was done. I had two more attempts to go. I increased the weight by 5 lbs. Boom! I squatted it. I surprised myself. I beat my personal best. I felt good. Then my coach started yelling at me to come by him. He told me to ask the judges what the record was for my weight class and see if I had beat it. I was thinking that there was no way I broke a record. I only trained for 3 months and I was totally inexperienced. Then my jaw dropped when they told me that I had beat the record with my last attempt. I remember telling my coach and seeing how proud he was of me. Coach Evan Nakachi was the happiest go lucky coach I know but he was tough. He told me that because I had beat the record I had an extra attempt to raise the record. I was excited. I felt even better than I did when I had started the event. So I added 5 more pounds. Boom! I felt like I exploded up as I lift the bar. What?! How did that just happen? My coach's face was gleaming and he told me to add 5 more if I wanted to. I pretty much was lifting to beat my own record that I had just set. He told me that if I didn't have to lift more if I didn't want to. I just thought to myself, "What the heck? What have I got to lose?" I added 5 more pounds. 245. Almost twice my weight. I gripped the bar and took my stance. I lifted it off the racks and that 5 lbs. felt so much heavier. I squatted down and felt the strength in my legs push me back up. Boom! I did it! I couldn't believe it. Thank you Heavenly Father. I knew I couldn't have done any of it without Him. I worked super hard the past several months so I could feel what I was feeling at that moment. Success. Accomplishment. Pride. I had put my mind and body into something and I succeeded. I surpassed my own expectations. I still couldn't believe that I had done it even when they presented me with my 1st place trophy (which was more than half my height). I was on cloud 9.
So how is it that I have forgotten that feeling. Not that I've really forgotten but I've forgotten what drove me to get there. I've gotten busy over the years. Serving a mission, getting married in the temple, raising 4 children. Those are all great accomplishments and have I given my personal best to all of them? If I could give my personal best to lifting some lousy weights then shouldn't I be giving my personal best to the greatest blessing I could receive in this life, my family? Sad to say but I haven't. There's so many things I could've done better and time wasted on unimportant things. I look back and wish that I was a better wife and better mother. As I'm sitting here typing this, I'm committing to myself and to my Heavenly Father that I will give my personal best to my family and everything that I do. I know that is the only way I can accomplish any goal. Do the best I can do.
Wow! This went from my weight loss results to a personal epiphany. I didn't think I would've written this much. I'll check back here in a week with better results. Much love to anyone that's still reading.
