What is “Strength”?

strength.jpgPhysically:

  • 33:35s Grind Time
  • 60 pushups
  • Trail racing
  • A 5km swim
  • Riding the IM Whistler Bike course
  • Holding plank for 8 mins

Mental:

  • Finding beauty in process
  • Sitting with discomfort, mental, physical
  • Trusting the process
  • Having faith that this too shall pass
  • Meditation
  • Observing thoughts
  • Non-distraction and being present
  • Self-care
  • Standing up for yourself
  • Letting go (of ego, of beliefs that don’t serve, of control)
  • Viewing the bigger picture, instead of getting caught up in the microcosms of mind-games
  • Doing less
  • Being more

Fuck

I don’t feel physically strong atm, in fact I feel vulnerable, fragile, injured, weak, permeable, loose.  I am observing my association with the concept of strength and its manifestation in the physical sense.  In my injury rehab for my rib right now, which is leaving me very vulnerable and forcing me to rest, do things slowly etc…I am re-evaluating the term strong because I want to feel strong.

It’s a perspective shift, it’s all in my mind, and by practicing firing these neural pathways, it’s a universal strength.

OM.

Survival Mode

I wake up and first thing I do is say:

I love and accept myself

Then I proceed to do 40 pushups and my daily 15 minute abs sequence.
I eat breakfast.
I go to bed kinda hungry.  I am fear-full: a fucked up phobia of satiation.
I want to wake up hungry, at exactly 5AM.
And I’m good at it, alarmless.
Breakfast takes a long time, regardless of what I eat.
Because I’m famished. I’m in survival mode.

My body is in survival mode.
My soul wants connection, love, to work, give, change, go on dates. But it’s not possible.  I’m stuck confined in the walls I’ve imprisoned myself in.

I don’t even know how much I weigh, because I never step on a scale.  But my bones protrude, I have no bum, my arms are twigs, my nails are falling off.

I eat, until I know I can control some residual hunger.  Control, man.

I want to be in control of when I am hungry.

I am scared of being full.  Of going overboard, of deserving nourishment.

I do my workout, an escape, a numbing, it’s like a pill, solidifying the power of my dictatorship over my body.

I go about my day.  Stretch, lunch (just under-sated), snack (this is new! this is good!), dinner (under-full), ootnaboot (this is new and good!), snack (under-full).  Sleep.

And I am expecting myself to realize a job, career (run retreats and be the holistic wellness advocate of my own damn dreams), find a sexy man, go to a bar, movie, dinner, win some fucking trail races….when I have this crap behind me.  I’m exhausted, cortisol running perma-high in “flight” mode, always.  I have hypothalamic amenorrhea.  Muscles perma tired, always toeing the edge of athletic injury.

I’ve re-started my 10-min meditation practice (literally 10 mins of breath-focused awareness) and this shit’s life-saving.

I want to DO things but have no energy.  And I expect myself to do it all.

In order to jump off the rat-wheel, I have to fucking leap.

Shit, man.  The mind is a powerful ape.

IMG_0963

I tried to walk away with this big cheque…doesn’t work that way, apparently…