The Beginning of the End
Well there I was, staring at my Wodify app at a workout that had both destroyed me and changed my life, all at once.
Well there I was, staring at my Wodify app at a workout that had both destroyed me and changed my life all at once. This workout became a turning point for me, both then (although I did not realize it at the time) and now. It signifies the epitome of my sickness, the point at which there was really only one direction I could go…..and it became the most important workout that I have completed to date. Many people will see this picture and think “big deal, just another crossfit workout, crazy crossfit people…” But it is SO much more than just a workout. It is MY story. And I’d like to share it with you.
When I first attempted the workout back in February during the 2017 CrossFit Open, I had no business working out PERIOD! I had been sick with influenza and bronchitis for a couple of weeks (and if I didn’t already have pneumonia, this workout certainly pushed me to that point). But I forced myself into the gym (definitely against my coaches’ better judgments, probably even against my own limited logical reasoning) under this false pretense of strength and determination (“Yes, I might be really really seriously sick but I’m gonna finish this workout if it kills me…..”).
I wanted to believe that the hardcore, no-quit attitude was admirable. And I’m certainly not advocating just giving up on everything that gets hard. But there’s a fine line between self-worth and foolish pride. And I spent years on the wrong side of that line.
So I showed up in February to complete my first workout of the CrossFit Open. I was pale, weak, tired, had sunken eyes, undernourished, unrecovered from illness, unrecovered from physical injury and inflammation, and- most importantly- suffering on the deepest level of depression that I had ever known.
That’s really what makes it so hard to talk about, because for a very long time I did not want to acknowledge just how far down I had fallen. Afterall, what right did I have to be depressed? I have this huge community of friends surrounding me, I have an amazing supportive husband and beautiful healthy children, we recently got to build our dream home and are certainly blessed with “things” in our lives; there was really no excuse for me to feel so down. I truly blamed myself for being weak and spoiled, and refused to accept that this depressive state was real. And that’s how I ended up at the gym that day. I pushed myself beyond any physical safe limits in an attempt to find that magical moment that was going to change my mental state once and for all. And indeed, I was never the same again.
The workout had a 20 minute time cap, and I moved for 20 minutes nonstop. I don’t remember my score but I think I got through the round of 30 snatches and started on that next round of burpees. I paid no attention to how severely tired and weak my muscles were; I could literally feel and hear the gurgling in my lungs as I tried to breathe in fully, and yet I pushed and pushed and pushed myself more. When I finished, I again ignored that feeling of complete physical drain and instead tried to pump myself up on the “mental victory” that I had just won. I left with this incomplete sense of accomplishment. I was trying to feel proud of doing the workout, but the feeling was forced. And my inner self saw through that phony attempt.
Soon after, I was sicker than before. Back at Urgent Care, the X-rays confirmed pneumonia. This was a tough blow for my mental resolve. It would be nearly 10 weeks, and a couple rounds of antibiotics, before the X-rays came back clear. That workout became the beginning of the end.
It was the beginning of the end of my sickness. And I began to heal. I never really understood what it meant to heal. I mean, healing on the surface- yea I got it. But I needed to heal self-inflicted wounds much deeper than pneumonia and hamstring strains and herniated discs and chronic tendonitis and systemic inflammation and leaky gut and muscle pain; deeper than seasonal sadness and busy-mom-blues and sleep-deprivation and mom-guilt and super-woman-syndrome; even deeper than anxiety and depression and shame………….
Lurking far back in my closet was this dirty nasty history with eating disorders, that controlled me on a deeper level than even I understood. I was naive to think that after I’d met my (future) husband and he loved me unconditionally that I had everything I needed to break free. I sincerely believed that after I’d had my babies and really came to grasp the magnitude of parental love that I’d abandoned this past forever. Turns out it remained present all along, and it took on the false identity of over-exercising. I no longer vomited what I ate; instead I became obsessed with working out. When I wasn’t active and working out, I was very noticeably depressed. And using this “healthy” medium of exercise, I was able to still control my body image (or more accurately, my perceived worth) and feel good about myself. I DID feel good about myself; well, at least most of the time…..or, at least some of the time.
I felt good about myself, but I did not feel love for myself. I had so much love to give to others and I felt their immense love for me in return- which is real and great and gratifying! I mistakenly thought this was enough to heal all my wounds. But it was not self love. And that, as it turns out, was my biggest wound to heal.
Had I not hit the bottom, I don’t know that I would have gotten to the depth of introspection that has brought me to the place I am at now- a place of self-acceptance through compassion, self-confidence though determination, and self-love though inspired reflection. Learning to accept, respect and love myself is what has allowed me to finally heal, really heal, some long and unwelcome pain. And I feel like my real and complete self for the first time in a really long time.
So there I was, staring at my Wodify app at a workout that had both destroyed me and changed my life all at once. My initial reaction was one of fear; I looked at it and instantly thought “Nope, not doing that one again!” Because I had had this negative association with that workout as being one the lowest points in my life, I was afraid of putting myself back into that state. It was a very real and visceral memory that came back full force when I saw the workout programmed. And then everything came full circle. I realized that by committing to and completing that workout, this time from a place of health and not sickness, I could really and truly close the door on that memory, stomp it out of my life with each jump over the box. And so I showed up. And i psyched myself up big time for the workout. And was ready!
But something really remarkable happened to me during that 20 minutes of work, something I was certainly not expecting; the countdown began: 3-2-1-GO!!! I picked up that 35lb dumbbell for the first snatch and it felt………HEAVY! Too heavy. Was this a mistake!? Self-doubt tried to sneak its way back into my mind as I approached the round of 30. All of the sudden the Steve Windwood song “Valerie” came on and was blaring throughout the gym speakers (no joke, I’m dead serious!) I smiled! And I got this surge of mental clarity. So what if I don’t finish the workout- what difference does that really make?. It doesn’t change the fact that I’m doing it for me, in the name of self-love. I’m doing it to face fears that needed facing. I’m doing it to reframe a negative memory and pair it with a positive experience. And I’m doing it to prove to myself once and for all that I have nothing to prove.
In February, this workout became the beginning of the end for me. And yesterday, it became the beginning of a new beginning! #transformationtuesday #startwhereyouare
