letting that shit go.

I posted this on Facebook a while ago... from Sarah Robles:

 

 

Fat people don’t need to perform “health and fitness” to prove to you they’re worthy of respect and human decency.

******************

I find it fascinating that an an elite athlete, sometimes I get a free pass on some prejudices because I’m being a “good fatty.” People know I workout all the time and that I’m conscious of my diet and other perceived health markers. Basically, I’m not like OTHER fat people. However, those biases you have about fat people are what people who don’t know me automatically have about me. I’m not excluded from being a fat person. It’s an interesting dichotomy to be both a world-class athlete and also part of this “obesity epidemic.”

I get told I’m promoting obesity and that fat people like me are bad for society and the health care system and all that. Then I get messages from people saying they just got into the gym for the first time or signed up for a competition because I inspired them in someway.

Anyway, listen to the way your friends and family talk. Check out the content they like and share . It might be a valuable opportunity to see who really loves you and it might be a good opportunity to educate them on how to think about and treat other human beings.

I was super happy she posted this, it was a good reminder for me, living in a large body to be careful to whom I give my time and energy.

It happens rarely in this crazy sport I am in, but there are those folks out there....oh yes.  

I've had the back handed compliment...the admission that someone assumed I was lazy because I was fat...I've had the you should probably focus on cardio conversation as well...I had the oh god you look so much better having lost weight conversation with someone, when I was trying to tell them I felt weak...but you know, lighter is better...most recently....my favorite one to date really....someone looked me straight in the face and said...well, the light weights are the REAL badasses.

Okie dokie.

I mean, yes there are amazing light weight athletes....A-MAZ-ING.  And you know why they are amazing? The work they put in...the talent and the WORK they put in, not what they weigh.

In the moment and for a period of time; I was truly hurt by this person's words...truly hurt. I felt demeaned, dismissed, like they were judging me...and well, they were judging me.  BUT....I realized later, that this wasn't about me...this was them..their own internalized fat phobia and self judgement.

So...there it is.  I don't have to internalize this.  Hard not to, given how large bodies are viewed, blamed, criticized for even existing....funny how we can see someone with a slender frame and say, "they are naturally thin"....but the same is not afforded to the other....

I have struggled hard to "get lean" and at no point did I ever actually feel good or nourished.  I felt slightly crazed every single time...counting every last everything....restricting til I felt crazy....headaches, belly aches, kidney function problems.

I'll just keep moving at this point....and my fat ass will enjoy that cookie, thank you very much....and I'll enjoy throwing in this large body thank you very much...and I will perhaps, sometimes, even feel like a bad ass....

A big, goofy, slightly inappropriate, badass.

 

Peace

 You ever get into a disagreement with someone and one of the things they say to you is, “Fine, I’ll go away and leave you in peace.”

I’m guessing yes. Perhaps you’ve even said it to someone. I’m pretty sure I have too at some point. 

Well, this was said to me recently with all the vitriol as that phrase always brings. Instead of pushing back or quickly saying something that may feel like defending myself with a “no no that’s not what I mean” sort of thing. I heard it. 

“Leave you in peace”

What was meant by that?

Oh….

You know….you know that either your presence in my life or the actions you take or the words you use with me….are disturbing, upsetting to me, are “warring” words or actions. 

You know…and yet you threaten with peace…and I’m expected to beg you to stay to harm me further…..hmmmmm. I’ve never though of it this way before. 

Maybe none of this is conscience thought, maybe it’s a phrase we use carelessly when in conflict.

Return question, why don’t I deserve peace?  

I do actually, deserve peace; so in that thought, so do you. 

So, I will do my best going forward, to think, “ will this action or will my words create peace or continue to fan the flames of conflict.”

Might not be easy if I’m honest with myself….but now that I’ve heard this differently, I will work at receiving it differently. 

I know I said I was gonna shut this blog down.....

 ...I was just gonna post this video on Facebook, but the shit I thought I might say about it might be a little wordy.  So bear with me please.

So, I don't normally post the same shit on multiple platforms, but I received a second video of my WOB in Wichita and I wanted to share this one. Not because the throw is all that stellar...it isn't really when you look at the back load...or my freaking stiff legs.  BUT.

What I love about this video, why I am posting it? It's the after. The throwers...the support.  Mark Wechter, arguably one of the best throwers in the country is looking on, as he had just asked me after my last throw if he could tell me something.  He helped get this puppy over the bar.  It's the swarm of ladies coming at me...happy in my success, as they share this throw with me....it is Donna...my dear, wonderful, inappropriate, hysterically funny Donna looking determined to get across that field...it's Chad coming all the way across the field to give me a hug.

That's all of it right there....it's why I keep coming.

I realized something else this weekend.  I often find myself pregame, thinking....I am gonna be serious this time.  Demure, as Cindy Johnson might say. And well, It never happens.

I am, frankly obnoxious.  

Something happens when I get on the field..this switch in me, and I realized that it is me.  That "obnoxious" is me.  All the other places and obligations and old voices that pressed on my chest, were pressing on me.  A part of myself.  Now that is not to say that those other pieces of me, the work me, the serious me, the obligated me, the whatever, are not really me...but that boisterous, happy, slightly crazy, off color person that shows up on the field is me too. 

The first nickname I got from the NMCA throwers was Giggles...not sure but I think it was Jason Kleymann that gave me that moniker.  I just know that at that point in my life I was often, well, very sad, very squeezed tight. I found not just joy in throwing, but a little piece of me that was lost...a piece of worth was discovered ten years ago on that field, fueled by the nearly year I spent in a gym for the very first time.  Again surrounded by people who let me, be, well, me.

 

It has been a difficult few years....going back, well, an embarrassingly long time and I still look at Grant sometimes and worry that the putdowns will come.  But they never do. That is not him...he does not get angry when I am joyful.  He finds joy in me...being me.  

Poor bastard.  😊

There will always be some pain and hurts and frustrations, but these moments on the field with these women...that's the shit right there...good throw or not.  And I will march my ass across the field for you too my beautiful ladies. 

WHY???

 Fuck...I came in here to write a blog and there was one in Drafts from JUNE!  JUNE!

I'm guessing I don't really need to keep this blog going at this point.

 

I was going to write something about how much I miss my old gym...It hit me again last week while I was working out.  I posted a sweaty photo of myself and was like...how long until I stop missing this place...HOW LONG?

 

But, I have said it before...it wasn't the place, it was the people. The things I miss...the support of one another...people showing up for each others competitions....the challenges....the parties....the clothing exchanges....the charity events....

Other gyms have great equipment and some lovely folks...but there it is...

It was a moment in time and I was damn lucky to be a part of it.

Go Zia....

I still miss ya and I feel the worse for wear with out you.

and another thing...about excuses....

 Doing some lifty lifts in the gym this morning...Box squats....some one legged leggy presses....some more kettle bell squatty squats...and some weird press things....

They. All. Felt. Terrible. 

Terr*i*ble

Ok why?

Well, I said to myself, self...you could not workout last week....you traveled.....you threw....then traveled more....

So, for the "no excuses" crowd...are those excuses? Or aren't they just the things I have had going on in my life?

For just a moment...self said back to me..."excuses!" then I laughed...because no...this is just the stuff that's going on. So, I let a little more go of those outside pressures to always lift more, always "be my best" crap.

I was in the gym, I struggled, I got something done....

That's it. That's enough.

The game this weekend in Nashville was filled with too much of that "self" voice. I let that imposter thing take over....I let those weird expectations that I feel from the outside squeeze into my brain and my body. So funny too...not like anyone has ever SAID that shit to me...not even Grant...well....maybe Chuck...HA....

What I was unable to do was to focus on form...there were other issues...but I got tight and scared and judgey of myself.

All I can do....is let go and focus on form next weekend in Colorado Springs.  The cool thing for throwing?  I know I was throwing the WOB 19 feet....I just could not clear the bar...but it's almost there.

Everything else?  MEH.

But we went and we laughed harder than we had in a while....and that is worth it!