Strength

I grew up on a farm. I was 14 when I was finally able to chuck an 80 pound hay bale into the back of a pick up truck. I am petite and a lot smaller than most people, but I never let that stop me. I prided myself on being strong, fast, and tough. Maybe even more so than physically strong, I prided myself on being emotionally and mentally strong. I could work 80 hours a week, no problem. I could finish college in under 3 years. I could get hurt and not cry. This, to me, was strength.

But this was also not really living.

I never let myself feel, and I definitely never cut myself any slack. Cue perfectionist tendencies, aka anxiety and stress. Cue sleepless nights and control issues.

Cue a couple of years of soul searching, tears, and heart breaks. Cue break downs.

But the beauty of break downs is that they lead to break throughs.

Sometime over the past year, I began to unravel the belief that I had to be the best at everything, that my imperfections and weaknesses made me less than others. That, in fact, these are the parts of me that make me relatable to others. Brene Brown says that vulnerability is the first thing we hide about ourselves but the first thing we look for in other people. That is authenticity.

And only through authenticity, through living through our hearts, can we truly be ourselves and relate to others on a level that is real and genuine.

Being strong doesn't mean being invincible. It means having the courage to own up to imperfections and failures and trials and push through. It means letting other people--not all people, but the right people--see these things about ourselves that we really want to hide. It means not being afraid of all of the pieces of ourselves. It means accepting all parts that make us who we really are.

It means we believe in ourselves and love ourselves no matter what.

For me, recently, it meant sharing the before/after pictures from the 60 day challenge that I did. I didn't want to show the pictures, because  even though I surpassed my goals and am okay with people seeing where I am now, I didn't want anyone to see and judge my before pictures. I didn't want to admit how far I'd let myself go, how far away from myself I'd gone.

But then again...maybe that's exactly what I needed to show. Not the end result, but the path. Not the final destination, but the journey. Because we are all on a journey somewhere, and the part where we help others is encouraging and acknowledging each other along the way. To know that we are all in this together, that we all have the parts of ourselves we want to display proudly, just as we have those we want to bury deep inside and hide. And that's what makes us human. That's what makes us real.

And if there's one thing I've learned about myself over the past couple of years, it's that being real--truly me--is what really matters.

So. I've shared these pictures, I've let go of the fear of judgment, and I'm asking you all to vote for me, if you're so inclined. Rock the vote, rock this day, and rock the real you.


Here is the link. Thank you.

Yikes

I didn't want to post this. I still don't. Because, while I'm stoked on my results, I am--frankly--horrified at the before pics.

I knew I was gaining weight last year. That's what Sunday Funday and Relax Friday and Whatever Saturday and kinda whatever beer or cookies or both for dinner whenever I feel like it will do over the course of a year. My friends told me I looked fine, most of my clothes still fit (albeit not very well), and I avoided the scale because what does that matter, anyway?

It matters a lot, 20 pounds to be specific which, in case you don't know, on 5'2" me, is a lot.

It matters because it's not the version of myself I envision when I think about my best self.

So I joined this challenge, and I followed it because I wanted the best results possible. After only a few weeks, my friends were telling me I was inspiring them, but I wasn't doing anything extra, just sticking to the commitment I'd made.

As of the challenge end, I had lost 27 pounds and over 30 inches. To date, I have lost 30 pounds and probably more inches. My mile time is down to 7:06, and as of yesterday, I can do 3 unassisted pull-ups.

But more than the physical strength I gained came the power of being true to and aligning with the person I wanted to be. The true strength came purely from just being me.

And part of being me means struggling. It is hard for me to admit that I let myself go over the past year. It makes me feel vulnerable and like I'm going to be judged. Except I also realize something..in the willingness to be vulnerable also lies real strength and power. I don't need to hide who I am or the parts that made me this way. I'm okay with admitting that I fell out of line with who I was...and that I needed help to get back to that person. Now I'm back to where I want to be, but it took pure determination and commitment to get there. It wasn't easy, but I did it.

And that is why, ultimately, I decided to share. I would love it if you would vote for me.

On Being Great

My run was slow yesterday morning, my heart weighed down by the collective somberness of what happened.

The burden of change, the apprehension of disillusionment.

The disquietude invaded my mind and I cried as I ran my daily 5 on Sunset Cliffs.

This surprised me.

The outcome hadn’t been pertinent to my daily grind.

And yet.

I felt it.

How humbled, shocked...frightened many were.

But. As the shock wore off, I saw before us a choice.

There is a choice to be scared, and there is a choice to believe. There is a choice to look out into obscurity, or look toward the sun. There is a choice to see that there is not darkness, merely the absence of light. We must feel around and find where our heart is, for therein lies the light, the brilliance we seek.

We cannot begin to bounce back until we recognize the boundaries. The bottom is nigh when we recognize it as such, and from there, we can choose to rise...or descend to another, worser limit.

Perception is everything. Change is inevitable, honoring our time and space and the dynamic we set forth with our intentions.

We can place our focus on our fears and our disavowing discourse, and that is what we will experience, or we can place our belief and faith in something greater, and that becomes our reality

We can be great. We can light up the world by shining from within.