On growth

I was sitting in a bikini feeling sorry for myself on a boat in the middle of the Snake River when I made the decision. I made it on a whim--though the momentum, emotion, and struggle behind the decision maybe meant it was inevitable and a long time coming--and there was a strict no refunds policy. So I, a true Gemini, a person who has a hard time making decisions or sticking to anything, paid the fee and made one of the biggest commitments I've made in recent memory.

I signed up for a 60 day fitness challenge, and it was one of the best things I've ever done for myself.

I've always been fit and active. I know how to get lean, stay lean, build muscles, and have rocked a six pack a time or two in my life. But. somehow over the past year, the wrong sort of six pack (have you ever tried blueberry beer? AMAZING) crept into my life, the seems of my pants became strained, and all my tomorrows--you know, the day you say you'll start something--turned into tomorrows that never came.

I needed help, which is something that's never been easy for me to admit.

I had no idea what I was getting myself into. The program consists of cardio twice a day, starting off with 200 calories each session (one of which must be HIIT), and increased by 50 calories per session each week. Attending at least 5 boot camps per week and a crazy low-carb, lean protein (ALL THE FISH UGH), eating plan were also part of the process.

At first it wasn't so bad. But as the number of calories I had to burn increased, so did the difficulty of sticking to it. Pretty soon, The Challenge was consuming my life. I was working out basically three hours a day and meal prepping non-stop. I stopped drinking during football season. I brought broccoli and 4 oz of chicken to the bar while my friends drank beer. I gave up green juice and, at times, my will to live.

I talked about it a lot, and that might have been the worst part, the part where suddenly I could relate to and no longer judge people who did crossfit, vegans, or Jehovah's Witness. It was all I could talk about, because it was my world, and like, didn't people need to understand how crazy it was that I had to do 100 burpess one day in class (YOU GUYS, THAT'S INSANE!) or that I cut my six-mile runs down to an 8:41 average pace?

But it wasn't all about the workouts or the crazy weight loss that was occurring. It was about pushing myself. It was about those moments that I wanted to slack, or not wake up at 3:45 a.m. just to get in cardio and boot camp before going to a full day of work. It was about those little choices I made every day that kept me seeing results, that had me doing things differently than I had been doing them. It became about that sweet spot between uncomfortable and impossible. Because that spot? That's where the growth happens.

For 60 days I counted down to when I could have my life back. To when I didn't have to post sweaty selfies on the Facebook group page, to when I didn't have to spend Sunday evenings running when I really wanted to be watching football and drinking beer. To when I could have my weekends back from the crazy meal prep or the mandatory team challenges.

But it gave me structure and purpose. It made me actively work and push hard toward my goals. It gave me a place to grow, a place to make better decisions that led to amazing results. It gave me a place to step back and reflect on my life choices and realize where I needed to develop better habits.

And now it's ending and I'm not sure I want it to, kind of like when I finished that first book. It consumed my life, yet I don't want it to go away. It's basically like Stockholm Syndrome, where the victims begin to feel sympathy or affection toward their captors. As much as I wanted to be done, I don't want it to end.

I thrive when I push myself. I have purpose when I'm working toward goals. I have three pairs of size 0 pants (maybe that's bragging but I don't care, I worked so hard to get there!) and I never want that to not be a thing for me.

It has been a long time since I've pushed myself in a way like this. It has been a long time since I've accomplished one of those dream goals, you know, the ones that float out there in our somedays waiting--sometimes endlessly--to come to fruition.

But it happened. And the biggest take away wasn't my pant size or mile pace time, it was my realization that if we aren't doing things every day to work toward our goals, they become impossible and unreachable. Making little choices every day leads to big things. The secret to your success lies in your daily routine.

I'm not sure what's next for me. I have to set new goals, at least as far as my fitness is concerned. I have to figure out which habits to keep, and which will ultimately make me go insane.

But what I know, what I want to remember from all of this, is how amazing it feels to grow. Even if it doesn't feel amazing at the time, it is all worth it in the end.

p.s. I will be posting before/after pics on Facebook soon and I need to ask people to vote for me and please don't judge my bikini shot but please do tell me I'm pretty because vulnerability, okay?