Somehow it's been nearly a month since my last post. This summer was without a doubt the hardest, most bizarre of my life. I wake up every day and for a while it seems as though life hasn't changed...and then it will sneak up on me at some point every day that it's all so very different.
Allow me to get corny for a moment and actually quote a teenage girl group. "Searching for a sign in the night, even like a lonely string of lights that'll burn just long enough for you to see it. The road's been long and lonely and you feel like giving up. There's more to this than just the breath you're breathing. So keep on climbing, though the ground might shake. Just keep on reaching though the limb might break. We've come this far, don't you be scared now cause you can learn to fly on the way down...You won't forget the heavy steps it took to let it go. Close your eyes, count to ten, hold your breath and fly."
About a month ago, I thought that I was ready to jump fully back into my life as it was before losing my dad. Not so much apparently. As I have every transition into fall for the past several years, I had a huge fibro flare up. Thankfully, it hasn't been as bad as the other years (Thanks, Zeal), but enough to stop me in my tracks off and on. Given the physical, emotional and mental exhaustion I've been under the last three and a half months, I'm honestly surprised it wasn't worse.
Sunday evening I decided to do my full workout routine.. biking, weights, yoga, chiro stretches, core training. I have no idea what possessed me to do so but it was the first time since right before losing my dad back in June that I did all of it. The crazy thing is that I was scared to do it. I was scared of how my body would handle it. I was scared I would hurt a lot afterwards. I was scared of locking in and doing too much. Each day since I have pushed myself like I was before sixteen weeks (how has it been that long?!) ago and it's taken so much more now to do it. Why? Because the first two months I barely slept, hardly ate and if I did I got sick more often than not. Though I didn't gain anything back this summer, I definitely lost a lot of physical strength.
I got upset at myself last night at the gym. It's a well known fact that I loathe Tuesdays now and yesterday was no different. Monday night I did 13 miles on the bike (I was at 19 miles two days before my dad died) and was proud of myself. Last night I was on the bike for 6 minutes longer and did 4 miles less than the night before. And of course upon telling my mother this, she said "but you went and you did it." My heart definitely wasn't in it but right now I have to make myself do it because I felt incredible 16.5 weeks ago...truly the best I had ever felt as an adult. To make up for not doing as many miles, I did extra yoga and lifting after I got home. I slept horribly last night, again, nothing new for Tuesday but got right back at it this morning. I did several miles this morning walking through Forest Park (and pushing a stroller no less), up and down Art Hill multiple times and I felt really good afterwards.
It doesn't matter how many times you pause while fighting for something, the point is that you fight. You do it because no matter how hard it might be some days, the end result is worth it. My dad was so proud of me for how far I've come the last couple of years. I have to not only get back to where I was strength wise, but to push beyond that and continue on this journey of health and wellness without traditional medicine. From pushing myself this week again I've lost 3.5lbs already...and I didn't lose much more than that all summer, even with not eating much most of the time and the couple of months of being sick. How is that possible? Because as I've learned over the past two years now, it is not in my body's nature to just lose weight like a lot of people would. Most people would lose a lot if their bodies physically went through what mine did this summer. I was in survival mode, which meant just getting through the day more often than not so I wasn't super gung ho about eating strictly Paleo/Primal, or juicing very much. My Zeal Wellness was no doubt my saving grace in terms of nutrition. But this week I've given my body all of the foods (and juices) that heal me and make everything work like it should and that plus pushing myself physically is paying off.
People have commented lately that they can't believe everything I've been through at not even 30 yet. Some days I can't either. But through all of it I've come to know myself better than most my age for sure. I know when to physically push myself and when not to. It's time now so that's what I'm doing. It might be really freaking hard some days but in the end it will be worth it.