Start: 277
Current: 274
Loss: 3 pounds
Yep, riding steady this week – but only in weight.
This weekend The Bloke and I trekked up to a national park to do some bush bashing and rock climbing. Da-yum did that ever push me physically. It was a steep climb up (the views make it so worth it) and thus a step climb down.
The interesting part of the trek was how if influenced me emotionally. I knew something was challenging me on an emotional level on the way up because I had that ‘tears may be welling up in your near future’ feeling. I tried to ignore it, but you know how that goes…
On the way back down, my husband was walking in front of me (because stairs/steep declines make me nervous) and at one point I just sat down and cried. I couldn’t hold it back any longer.
My wonderful husband is used to these kind of things and was very caring about it. He had me look back up at the mountain to see how far I’d gone, was enouraging, reminded me that the climb was the hardest test of physical endurance that I’d had at this weight… (Have I mentioned my husband is made of pure essence of awesome with a dash of charming?)
Once I’d cried myself out, which didn’t take long, I began to think about my reaction and a great big, shining light bulb went on over my head. I finally connected enough of the dots to understand why I don’t like really hard exercise and rebel against anything that pushes my limits physically:
Weakness.
When I was a little girl, I was constantly on guard. I had to be careful what I said and did, to say the least. I didn’t know I was ‘on guard’ all of the time because that was my normal. But I can look back now and see that I was always ready to run or fight.
Because of this, when I exercise and push myself now, I put my body into a weakened state. Exhaustion is hell on my emotional mind because my ‘little girl’ side hasn’t caught up with the fact that I am well and truly safe now; no one is going to hurt me. So when I was going back down the mountain and felt out of breath, wobbly knees and sore, part of me was aboslutely convinced that I was leaving myself open to attack.
It’s a hard thing to realise because I know there are things that happened to me that I don’t yet remember. But recognizing how I am reacting to other things because of them has been a huge step for me. I have been exercising off and on for years – hard exercising – and it’s taken me this long to figure this out.
Even so, I am proud. I am proud of the woman I have become, able to finally connect those dots. I am also proud of the little girl I was (and partly still am) who, despite everything, had the will and the strength to survive.
