Tag: Rachel Hollis

Adventures in running, Uncategorized

Ringing like a bell.

tec

Amidst all the pain this week, there was a fuck of a lot of action and showing up. I could have crawled in a hole and died. (It wouldn’t have lasted long. But still, I could have.) And I chose not to.

Instead I chose action because my progress doesn’t allow for anything else.

I’ve been steadily working on the garage. The thing I deadlined for July, is well on schedule to be completed before that. I’ve already followed through on donation runs and weekly trash removal. The gone stuff is gone. The progress feels really good and I’ve taken the time to pause and celebrate myself.

I’ve continued with my daily five to thrive, and tho I haven’t written pen to paper, I have my start today journal dreams. I listened to Rachel’s Girl, Stop Apologizing. I finished Jen Sincero’s You are a Badass.

I talked with R about how we can get her basement room going and I mapped out a plan and timeline in my head. I’ll get that on paper this week.

The thing I feel most accomplished about is six freaking minutes!!

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The reason that feels so good is because it was so fucking hard and I risked initiating contact so I didn’t have to do it myself, and it actually made a difference. I risked the ask and the universe showed up for me.

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For all the roads you followed.

tec

There’s a thing I do with food. To not make things about food.

I decide.

It’s not always easy. But it’s simple.

And the more times I do it, the more often it is just easy.

In November I decided to intermittent fast and have my window be 9am til 7pm. Soon I decided to changed it to noon til 7. That felt okay until no behavior changed beyond the decision.

Enter more decisions.

The last couple weeks I’ve really driven into not only who I want to be, but who I am. Not only entertaining what my future ideal self would say, but also what I want to say right here, right now.

I don’t want it to be so grueling. I don’t want it to have to be so hard.

So I decide.

And then I execute the decision.

An eating window always benefitted me because once I had food, a switch turned on in my head and I couldn’t “off” food. I didn’t off food. But the eating window just shortens the issue. It doesn’t address it.

After weeks of thinking “what would the future, ideal Jill do?” and sometimes answering honestly, and sometimes fooling myself, I finally realized it was all just a stopgap.

It’s all important and I’ve needed it all as part of my journey. But I need something that feels more sturdy. I need something that makes all the chatter dissipate. I need the quiet.

Deciding helps bring me more quiet.

So I eat my meal and then I make the conscious decision “Don’t eat anything else for an hour.” And then I execute it.

I focus my energy and action elsewhere. I write or clean or play or move my body. I do the thing that quiets my mind.

And eventually I eat again. And then I decide. And then I execute it.

There’s no stomping or loss or grief. It feels like healing.

It’s not easy. But it’s easier than it was last week. And it’ll be easier still. I’m not ignoring myself or my feelings. I’m not distracting myself or skipping out. I’m just choosing to thrive in growth instead of drown in food.

It’s a perfectly imperfect system. I’m no robot. This is about being human here. I get tripped up and I go again. Getting back up is just as vital as decide and execute. Getting back up is decide and execute.

I know that in time, as consistency lends to routine, and routine turns to habit, it will be the foundation that changes the behavior, which is the whole point. It will be the answer to the question “what would future, ideal Jill say?” that I’ll no longer have to stop and ask myself. Because I’ll just know. Because I’ll just be.

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The fire beneath my feet is burning bright.

tec

A couple nights ago I shared with Chris my ribcage. Years ago (2014) I weighed much less and my ribcage was a great source of pride. I had worked hard for that weight loss.

I had worked hard to overcome a crippling binge eating disorder. I had worked hard to find truth behind the lies of body dysmorphia. My success was evident in my body.

Then I consumed sugar (an orange, to be specific) for the first time in years and my eating disorder reminded me it was alive and well. Then I got pregnant and miscarried (2015). Eventually I got pregnant and had a baby (2016). Then postpartum happened. And sleep deprivation and stress and unhealthy eating patterns.

Life spiraled.

I gained and lost weight. I did Whole30 multiple times (2017). And keto a few. But something that strict felt like overkill. I wanted to learn to navigate healthy while not restricting sugar.

Previously (2010-2014) I had lived a strict Whole30 lifestyle for three+ years. Never touching any grains or fruit. Only consuming meats, healthy fats and the vegetables that didnt bother me. I felt good and never wanted for more.

I had been content never again consuming sugar, processed or otherwise. It felt safe. Sugar was my heroin. I had said it so many times.

But then suddenly (2018) life felt so different and “staying clean” with food was so freaking hard. I wanted sugar all the time. I was a fiend for it and I chased the rabbit hole in search of rock bottom. I’d hoped rock bottom would neutralize sugar for me. I’d hoped drowning in terrible coping mechanisms would give me time opportunity to learn safe ones.

I’d hoped it would do that before I caused irreparable damage and insurmountable weight gain.

It felt like a gamble. But it felt like a gamble that was worth it.

Last November I committed to Rachel Martin one food related change. Six weeks before everyone else was making New Years’ resolutions, she challenged me to dive head first into a headstart. I began with a food window. Much like intermittent fasting, except I wasn’t logging anything except the time. I needed permission to stop eating after dinner. I needed safeguards to not eat the moment I woke up.

Days turned to weeks turned to months. I was doing it. I could eat full on crap all through my window if I wanted. I didn’t want this time around to be about the food. I wanted it to be about the time. I was committed to clawing my way toward a healthy relationship with food by exhausting unhealthy. Only two things were required: food window from noon til 7pm and the first thing I eat is always a healthy, nutrient dense meal.

Enter a long season of a healthy breakfast at noon followed by hours of ice cream and chips and muffins and cookies and whatever the hell else I deemed in the name of “no restrictions”. Months later I called it quits on many of those things. Not out of fear or a need to restrict, but because I felt crappy. I wasn’t getting the physical results I wanted. Most importantly, I felt worse instead of better emotionally. I was looking for comfort and safety in the nonstop eating, and finding overwhelm and instability instead.

Enter Rachel and Dave Hollis and their next90 challenge.  This centers around five principles tended to daily.

  • Pen to paper five things I’m grateful for.
  • 30 minutes of moving my body.
  • Getting up an hour early for “me” time.
  • Drink half my weight in ounces of water.
  • Cut one food item you know you shouldn’t be eating.

I stopped eating cough drops, which had become a huge crutch. I had appreciated that I had found a hard candy made with sugar instead of corn syrup. And I abused the fuck out of them. For months. I ate them instead of eating, even tho I was still eating so much. And it was ridiculous. Next90 was just the excuse I needed to stop eating them. It was a relief in fact. Two and a half weeks later I committed to no more ice cream as well. It felt good to not rely on the familiar, destructive habits. It felt good to give myself the opportunity to find positive, constructive ones.

Here we are now in May and I’m noticing my ribs. For many days I noticed my ribs and I would touch them and play with them and feel the way my skin feels against them. I’d contemplate how in years past feeling thinner would be a huge trigger for me. How losing fat was the awesome success that turned into my downfall.

I showed Chris.

Chris got that adorable smile on his face. That smirky smile that is part turned on and part beaming with pride. And then he asked me how it feels. Because we ask each other stuff like that.

And I said that it feels weird.

And then he asked me this: how are you going to celebrate your accomplishment?

I was stopped in my tracks.

My accomplishment.

Suddenly it was all a different perspective. No need to get wrapped up in triggering thoughts or fear. No need to feel consumed by fear failure or success. No need to borrow trouble.

I can feel my ribs and know my body speaks for my hard work. I can take pride in my accomplishment and celebrate it. I can reap the benefits of fat minimizing and muscle maximizing.

I can allow my brain and my mindset to catch up with all the healthy, just as I allow my body to. It’s another reminder from the universe that I’ve got this. And the universe has me.

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It took some time to survive you.

tec

I’ve been disconnecting my why and my who from my present the past few days.

I’m sure there’s a reason. I’m sure that reason is important. But I haven’t tread there yet. I haven’t come here to pick it apart.

I know part (most?) of it is stress. I know it’s some of the little behind-the-scenes stuff happening that is out of my control. Or was once in my control (sorta) and I didn’t fight then to turn overwhelm into action. And so now there are multiple overwhelm categories all sneaking to the forefront at once.

I could name them, but that is scary. I’m not there yet. Even tho I know it’s helpful.

So I’m checking them off slowly without naming them.

But even still, I find myself here, now, facing the fact that my why and my who have not been congruent with my relationship with food. And that’s okay. There’s no shame in that. It’s observation. And still, it’s my present truth.

And that’s not to say that has to be my truth the next time I eat or tonight or tomorrow. It’s just the truth of what the last couple days have looked like. And part of my personal development is that I’m self aware enough to notice and acknowledge these things, and then decide where I place my foot during my next step.

I’ve noticed and acknowledged the last few days. Of course I have! I no longer have the luxury of not seeing it. And still I’ve made the decisions that the ideal, future, healthy version of me would. not. make. And to make it worse, when I make the anti-me decisions, I tack on preposterous words like, “future me would give herself a break right now and eat this” and “future me would allow for self care to be this one cookie”.

FUTURE ME WOULD. NOT. SAY. THAT.

Future me would say, “find a different way, sister!” (Because future me will sometimes talk like Rachel Hollis and randomly call people sister.)

Future me would also take the time to write because it’s my therapy. Because it brings me back to me. Because it brings me closer to living and breathing my idealized me.

So I sit here writing. Because it’s important. It’s vital. I need it. And I take breaks for self care.

Today I took L to the doctor and re-set myself on a stress path. I need to solidify some research there and put pen to paper. That will help. Today I will also call the tax guy and re-set myself on that stress path. Actively being on those paths is a lot less stressful than knowing I need to get on them. My higher functioning brain knows this, but the whole rest of my being fights it.

And I should also talk to my husband and speak some stress paths because that may be helpful even tho I keep adamantly dragging my feet about it and it’s the very very last thing I want to actually do.

So. Time to jump.

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Like the ceiling can’t hold us.

tec

Before I even make my coffee this morning, I want to share what my life affords me.

I woke up this morning to this.

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There are clean dishes in the drain board from 24 hours ago. There’s crap on the island. A day’s worth of dirty dishes in the sink. Nothing’s been disinfected.

The living room was scattered with papers and some haphazard books. Gym blocks in disarray. Bath toys littering the carpet. There’s a load of laundry to be folded and another yet to be washed.

You want to know what this represents to me?

A day well spent with my attention elsewhere.

My life–my amazing freaking life–my I practice and practice and practice life–my I get back up again life–affords me this moment. I could focus yesterday without micromanaging all of the home tasks. I could eat a meal without care if the dishes were washed. My routines (even taking a day off from them) afford me only an hour of catchup time today to get everything back to normal. My mindset work afforded me the ability to not even consider that someone else should wash the dishes yesterday. Never did I play the victim and think, “well, if no one can even give me the damn day, I guess I have to stop this important conference to wash a dish.” Never did I even think to entertain “I just want to watch the speakers, but L wants attention too and now I have to give up my dream!”

No! I am so much more than that.

I didn’t give a shit about the dishes. I didn’t think someone else should do them. I was grateful for the times Chris took L to play in the other room, but I was just. as. grateful. for all the moments L spent with me too! I incorporated him into my conference. I welcomed him. And he loved it! He felt loved.

My conference ended around 6:30. I was freaking glowing. Chris was on a call outside and L and I danced around the living room for the hundredth time, as my calves burned from the day.

I could have cleaned the house then. I even considered it. Wanna know what I did instead? I went outside and I played with my kid. Because even tho I spent a great part of the day with him, my attention was split. My life affords me that too. So we went outside and chased monsters and threw Spiderman webs and enjoyed the beautiful weather.

Later we went to the store. Still no clean kitchen. Later L went to bed. Still no clean kitchen. Even later than that Chris and I had amazing freaking sex. Still no clean kitchen.

And it was never a freaking thought in my head.

And so today, when I woke up and saw my home. It was the prize. It wasn’t the burden. It was the freaking prize. Because yesterday I lived in abundance. And I loved in abundance. And today my house, which is easily pickup-able, represents all of my progress. All of my glorious progress. And there is just nothing better than that.

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I live to be alive.

tec

RISE fucking LIVE.

Rachel Hollis. Fucking Rachel Hollis.

I have no words.

I want to have words. But I have no words. I just have this overwhelm that seeps from my eyes and labors my breathing. Oh my god, I want to have words! I want to memorialize this moment so I never forget. So I have a place to come back to if it slips away.

But I don’t have words.

RISExLIVE was today. It started at 8:45ish. I got up at 7:30 after going to bed after 3:30. I stood at the laptop propped up on the entertainment center. L sat on Chris’s chair watching a show. Chris Chandler, the emcee, invited us to move our bodies. It felt so freaking lame. My window blinds were open for Christ’s sake.

But today was my day to show up.

So even though it felt so freaking lame, I moved around some anyway. I tried to get into it. I tried to ignore the awkward. I halfassedly did the weird squat positions. I swung my arms, putting just enough effort in to show I wasn’t sitting it out.

I felt lame.

And then Rachel comes out. And she turns lame on its head. Suddenly it’s more important to get my ass moving. At 5-4-3-2-1, I get L to dance with me. We’re Pavlov’s dogs at her command. We succumb to the Rachel. We are freaking in it.

And then the whole internet freaking EXPLODES!

Ha.

Everything is glitchy and people are complaining on the forums and I get to see in real time that those people are not my people. I get to reinforce for myself how much growth I’ve had over the past few years. I don’t even think to be mad about the glitching. I’m barely frustrated.

I committed my whole day to RISExLIVE. I hadn’t even intended to. I’m not even sure what my intention for programming was today. But I stayed through the glitching, and with each new refresh moment (and there were thousands) I uncovered hidden parts of me. I cleared away the cotton and lit the path with lights and I led the way back to me.

This week I will do a breakdown of each speaker. I ended up not watching any of Dave’s, which did hurt a little. It just lglitched out too hard. I would guess that I caught about 60% of 40% of the speakers. But I stayed connected to the entire process all freaking day. Nine hours. Dancing. Connection. Note taking. Moving my body.

By the time Rachel spoke her last class, she was so keenly tuned into my soul, I could feel her energy buzzing into me.

L sat on the entertainment center next to me. A blessing. Warrior company. My partner in crime. Rachel pouring into our souls. Courage and truth overflowing.

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It was a perfect fucking day.

adventures in quarantine, Adventures in running, Uncategorized

Keep my composure when it’s time.

tec

I jacked up my knee(s) a bit. I’m thinking it’s patellar tendinitis. Seems the most likely culprit.

The universe was like “hold up, li’l girl” and then instead of stomping about it–because that would have really hurt–I said “okay” and I complied without complaint.

I am no less committed to my dream, though I certainly feel the affects of this injury on my heart.

Yes, it sucks and I’m trying to honor those feelings in myself. I don’t want to dismiss or compartmentalize them. It does suck and I recognize that. But also, I have the tools and support to navigate it.

I will keep chugging along.

From the start I have viewed this time as both training and running. Training wants to be the focus. I’ll ice and rest for now and then I’ll start strength training, increase walking, and focus on endurance in other ways. This isn’t a hard stop. It’s just a speed bump.

I still choose joy. I am still a runner.

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Fault lines that cannot sit still.

tec

The Lightbulb

I’ve heard a lot of great quotes in my lifetime that provide these life changing lightbulb moments for me. I “AHA!” and then…nada.

Lightbulb doesn’t stick.

Such is life sometimes. I’m only human.

I’ve heard quotes before about “future me” and how I can make choices now that future me would make. It sounded awesome! Huge lightbulb. I even wrote “what would future me do?” on the dry erase board. Then nada.

But two weeks ago, when I started the next90 challenge, Rachel Hollis said something. And I sparked. And I’m a freaking forest fire now.

The Match

Rachel explained the thought line so tangibly. She said (paraphrasing some here), “Imagine you have spent the last six months living as the dream version of yourself. The best version of you lives out the next six months. The best version of you shows up every day for yourself. The best version of you shows up every day for your family. You are more intentional and more present. Your gratitude journal is overflowing. You’ve been moving your body every day and drinking water and eating healthy foods. You feel stronger and your body is thriving. You live intentionally for six months.

“What does your life look like then? What does it look like in August? September? October? What does it look like when you’ve been living your dream life for six months?

“Imagine that person now. Be specific. What does that person look like? Dress like? That person–you, at your best–showing up well for you. Showing up well for others.

“Now. What would that person say to the person you are today? What does that person know is true? What does that person need you to do? What does that person want you to do right now?

“Six months from now–the very best version of you–what would they tell you to do in this situation?”

The Spark

And even tho I’ve heard that schtick before, something about her phrasing was palpable. Something hit and stuck. But not only stuck–it feels sewn into me.

Now when faced with a choice–food to binge, dessert to eat, time to spend–I do not think about how present me feels about it; future me fills my thoughts. I am not consumed by a present loss, I am overcome by a future gain. Instead of aspiring to be like Rachel or Dave or Kendra, I am aspiring to be future me. A spark that lights the world on fire.

Two weeks in and I’m still ablaze.

Adventures in running, Uncategorized

I’m done with sleeping.

tec

I said I want to run a 5K and this weird switch happened in my head. Despite all the things I fear and all my insecurities, I don’t give a shit about any of that right now. I just want to run this 5K.

Hell, I don’t even care about running the 5K. I want to train for a 5K. I want to live this process and embrace it so fully, I feel consumed by it. My intention is for there to be nothing I’ve ever committed to more than this, apart from my family.

Last night I said I want this. It would have been so easy today to waylay it. To wait because I didn’t have the perfect training plan yet. Or the perfect running shoes. Or because R was going to run with me, but had to work on chem instead. All I needed was one tiny excuse to not get my ass out there.

But I’m a runner damnit and I will show up for myself. So I went out to the field wearing jeans and Chucks and I embraced that shit. I ignored the story in my head that the neighbors thought I looked stupid. I told myself instead the story of future Jill. Whose neighbors revere her for kicking ass every. damn. day.

My loose plan was to train for 30 minutes–15 second run/45 second walk. Rinse. Lather. Repeat. I ran around and played ball with S all last week! I could do this easy peasy, right?

Ha. That was unreasonably optimistic… 4 minutes in and I was dying and calling it quits in my head.

I thought about Dave Hollis though. And Rachel. I thought about my privilege and my commitment. Maybe I didn’t train for the 30 minutes I expected to. But I trained for 15. And that 15 is fucking huge! It is everything. It is ten more than my body thought it could give.

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*I started the stopwatch late.

And I felt like I was fucking glowing after! I had fought for every second of that run and every cell in my body knew it. It was electric.

I will hold onto this as my first training experience and it will always be the story of how I started running after a lifetime of wishing.