I don't do resolutions. I do goals.
Resolution: I resolve to lose weight and get healthy!
Awesome! How are you going to do it? Resolutions typically come without plans and last for about a month.
Goal: I will lose 15lbs by June 15, alter my diet to support my fat-loss, and go to the gym 3x's/week to increase my fitness level.
It's not perfect, but it's better. A goal is specific, measurable, attainable, realistic, and time-related. Goals, simply put, are smart. My goals for 2013 included the following:
*Drop another 10 lbs of fat by Christmas
*Up my benchpress to 140lbs by Christmas
*Up my deadlift to 225lbs by Christmas
*Up my squat weight to 250lbs by Christmas
*Enter and complete a 5K in 20minutes (Thanksgiving)
*Begin training for an Iron Man competition
*Enter in a beginner's Weight Lifting Competition.
Pretty awesome goals for someone who was squatting 205lbs, deadlifting 185lbs, and benching 115lbs in January.
I weighed 155lbs and looked the best I've ever looked. I was wearing loose size 10's and making progress, daily. I was in love with my health (still battling massive depression, though), but enjoying the fact I was so easily underestimated.
Then April 9 happened. That day, I lost more than just my car. I lost my sense of self.
My husband and I were driving to our apartment on Narbonne, near PCH in Lomita. Our light was green and we and the car next to us, proceeded through the intersection--much to the surprise of a driver coming the opposite way who failed to stop--or even slow down at her light. My world exploded in pain and talc. Pro Tip: NEVER RIDE WITH YOUR FOOT ON THE DASH. Somehow, nothing was broken--but there was damage. I had a severely sprained ankle--to be specific, I had a complete tear (Level 3), a partial tear (level 2), and a group of severely stretched (Level 1) ligaments in my right ankle. The ER, however, was unwilling to send me for an MRI and chose to tell me I was fine. The chiropractor I chose to go to who had a non-surgical ortho on staff chose to ignore my ankle completely.
I continued my training. It wasn't until my ankle gave out on me under a reloaded 160lb squat that I thought there MIGHT be a problem. Nevermind the fact I would walk and fall down occasionally. That didn't send signals to me that there was a problem. It took flying to Chicago in July for a meet & greet and ending up in a wheelchair at the Field museum; drinking so much I don't remember half the trip because I was in tremendous amounts of pain (physical and emotional); and arriving back in LA to be released two weeks later from said chiropractor as being successfully healed for me to be upset. It took visiting a chiropractor in Edmonton whose exact words were: "It feels like you have some exploded ligaments here. You should get an MRI when you get back to the states," for me to do anything. I contacted my lawyer. He referred me to an orthopedist. The orthopedist's exact words were, "It looks like you have exploded ligaments in your ankle...."
Those words haunted me. Exploded ligaments. I'd been training for five months on an ankle with exploded ligaments. I was put off all workouts. No running, no walking, and definitely no lifting. Not even upper body. No. Lifting. Because I push myself. And my orothopedist knew, without knowing me for more than two office visits, that I would cause myself further injury if I even glanced at a weight.
My gains! I lamented...
By November, we knew I was going to need surgery. Our apartment was on the third story of the building--three flights of 14 steps each. Not something you really think about until you're told you won't be able to put any weight on your ankle for 2 weeks; when you're facing down the fact you'll be on crutches...when you have the coordination of a newborn. We started looking for a new place to live.
My husband, at the time, was paying a massive amount of child support. We had very little money; since gluten free foods are typically double the price of regular, something had to give. I chose to be sick so we could afford to move. I wasn't working anymore and it was just his salary. We found a place in San Pedro that we loved. It was a house with a yard--a back house with some pretty awesome neighbors. It took us over a month to move in because I was not allowed to lift anything.
The surgery happened in January. I was already working on my PhD, but the drugs they gave me for the nerve pain made me notice really awful memory issues. I took one class off to get my health under control. I progressed very quickly through my rehab; very quickly. I was released from PT in May, though I still had issues, but none of us could figure out why--the issues were not replicatable in PT. At the end of May, I received my settlement and promptly took a six week trip to Europe.
That trip taught me how to live again.
When one is laid up for a long time, slowly watching activities that kept them sane or whole fall away from their grasp, it becomes so very easy to lose a sense of self. Who was I, if not the girl who could bench press 115lbs? Who was I, if not the girl who trained hard and pushed her body to the limits, then beyond to become better than she was the day before? Who was I...?
I am a beautiful creature who sees things others do not. I am an Old Soul who has lived on this Earth a long, long time. I am connected to my spirituality in ways I never was before--when you have no one and nothing else to rely upon, you rely upon yourself, your intuition, and (in my case) God.
That is what I learned whilst in Europe. That trip taught me how to re-learn living. Living is more than just things happening around you and your reaction to said things. Living is about experiencing life. Creating, for yourself, a world in which everything is beautiful--even the bad parts.
This lesson would become oh so important in the months following my return.
I was still eating pretty poorly and had gained back every single pound I'd meticulously worked to lose. I was weighing in around 185lbs and feeling pretty miserable. My husband's child support was over and we were able to afford my dietary restrictions, again. So, I asked him if he would do a Whole30 with me. He agreed, and we both saw amazing results. I started running training, again and I went from 185 to 168, three pounds shy of my goal.
Then I was hit with another blow. All the pain in my joints that I'd been experiencing for the past two years suddenly got worse. Fatigue like I had never known set in. I started losing grip on things and mentally forcing my fingers to wrap around items, or move, or whatever. My grandmother on my Mom's side had RA. My nurse-sister told me I should get checked. I made an appointment and started a pain journal--and started researching.
RA. Lupus. CFS/ME. MS. These were the things that kept coming up in my symptoms. I began to pay closer attention to my pains and fatigue--what triggered it, what helped it, what environmental factors were present. I went to my RA specialist who took X-Rays and requested blood work. Since Lupus is also an inflammatory disorder, she was testing for that as well. Her initial diagnosis was Fibromyalgia presenting with an auto-immune disorder.
My follow up is next week. One of the things I've read regarding auto-immune disorders is that the best thing to do is keep your spirits up. This has been the best possible thing for me. Everyone has struggles. I have good days, I have bad days--just like everyone else. My depression gets the better of me some days, but the more I try to fight off that monster, the better I am.
The one thing that still gets me: Not being able to pick up a barbell. I'm currently around 170-175lbs; my appetite comes and goes and I get very odd food cravings, randomly. I try to do some type of yoga every day I can, but yoga does not release the same type of endorphines as lifting or running.
With the New Year rapidly approaching, I still find it difficult to make resolutions. But, I find setting goals almost impossible because of the Unknown. Still, I have goals...
*Work at least 3xs/week in a strenuous fashion (biking, walking, calisthenics, etc) by June
*Switch to a strict Paleo diet by May
*Drop to 150lbs by Christmas (or 38-28-36 measurements)
These are goals. These are not resolutions. No amount of resolve will force my body to conform to my wishes. If resolve were all it took, I would be in the gym, benching 120lbs, by now, and likely weighing in around 140-145lbs. I need more than resolve. I need to be smart. I need something specific, measurable, attainable, realistic, and time-related. I believe, as of this moment, my goals for 2015 are smart.
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