I want to be the weakest me ever.

I have this workout journal that I use to log my workouts every day, and at the top of each page, there's always some motivating quote. When I was thumbing through it a few days ago, I came across one that stayed with me: "Never let your lack of strength be mistaken for weakness."

A bit puzzling isn't it?

I mean, in the line of work I do (a.k.a Crossfit), performance is everything; it's a performance-based sport. Isn't that what we're supposed to do? Perform? Be the best we can be by exhibiting strength we never thought we were capable of?

But that's not necessarily the entire equation, or definition, of what strength actually is. Not being able to perform in this sport as prescribed by the workout of the day has nothing to do with my strength. I may lack the physical strength to perform a 300# deadlift, but you can bet that I am strong and fully empowered in heart. And I'll keep working until my deadlift is 305#. The strong in heart is the one that always comes out on top.

But sometimes, it's not always that simple...

This past Saturday morning, I did the following workout:

15 min. AMRAP of:

7 95# Push Presses
10 95# Overhead Squats
25 Sit-ups

That. Was. Heavy.

That. Hurt. A lot.

I am definitely not used to doing that kind of weight. And my coach told me before I started that he's not looking for me to complete a bunch of rounds, because the weight is heavier this time. I heard him, but not fully, because once the clock went off, and I felt that heaviness, I was challenged to a whole new level. Everything that I was feeling emotionally inside that had been there from all the various situations in my life came to the forefront. I completed 3 rounds + 3 reps, and crashed on the floor with a heavy lump in my throat from tears.

Why?

Honestly, I really don't know.

Whether we realize it or not, we hold ourselves to unrealistic expectations every single day. We're conditioned to believe that we always have to be more. Just more. You got your first pull-up? Awesome! Now do 10 in a row. You lost 8 pounds? Way to go! Now lose 8 more.

If you were a coach, would you ever talk to a client like this? Absolutely not. So, what's the difference in talking to a client and talking to yourself? How come we are able to place ridiculous expectations on ourselves thinking that's normal, but we know that would be ludicrous to speak to someone else like that....

There is NEVER any satisfaction of celebrating the milestones. There is NEVER a moment where you can just look at yourself in the mirror and tell yourself you're happy with where you are while you're working for what you want. Never. There is always more to be worked on. And in the moment of lifting that 95#, I wasn't thinking about the fact that I'm lifting a weight that used to be impossible for me (as in, I couldn't get that bar up at all at one point in my life). I wasn't thinking about the fact that I was doing all 10 reps of those overhead squats in a row without putting the bar down. No. I was too busy thinking about how I just longed to be more than I already am.

But you know what?

Funny enough, Jesus says something completely different. "But he said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.' Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me." (2 Corinthians 12:9).

Jesus wants me to be weak. He actually doesn't want me to be strong. That's hard to swallow, because I've been told to be strong my whole life. But, I must say, nothing has ever ended well when I've relied on my own strength, or understanding. The world says to be more, but I have a God that doesn't care about how "perfect" I am. He doesn't care about my ability or inability to perform in and outside of the gym, in life, in my kitchen, anywhere...he loves me with an unwavering devotion for just simply being, not because I had to earn it or deserve it, work for it, and fear losing it...nope. Again, that's hard to swallow. But man....God, thank You for this kind of freedom.

It's been my heart's prayer that I can bring my performance anxiety (my stressful pressure from myself to be perfect in all things) to Jesus every day, multiple times a day, and one day, truly feel that freedom in my heart of hearts.

Jesus loves the fact that I am strong in heart, and even physically strong. He blessed me with that ability. But, more than anything, he wants my broken, contrite, weak heart in every area that I've left untouched.

It's funny because I work day in and day out to become stronger, and at the same time, also make sure I remain the weakest me ever so I can allow Jesus to remain that Rock I need in my life, because God only knows I can't and never will be able to rescue myself. Thank God for grace, and the fact that God doesn't place the same expectations that I place on myself too often.

My messed-up, topsy turvy, up and down, all around personal health story

I have had an extraordinary life. I have a family that has loved me unconditionally and supported me with literally whatever I wanted to do, I have been to the best schools and graduated with the highest honors, made amazing friends that have been true, faithful and forgiving, I have had the chance to travel and see beautiful places that I'll never forget, live on a breath-taking island that is easy-going and yet productive…lots and lots to smile about.

But one thing I've never felt okay with is my body. Yeah, I grew up on Wendy's every day after school, Burger King every morning before school, disgusting calorie-ridden, nutrition-stripped school lunches, dietitians preaching whole grains, dairy, and legumes as vital sources of health, Weight Watchers promising better health with weight lost, Slim Fast promising satiety with their icky shakes, calorie restriction, calorie counting, Subway diet….one bad turn after another. I started thinking about my weight when I was 12 years old (not a bad time, I suppose; that age seems pretty normal). What doesn't seem normal is the fact that it consumed me. I hated being the bigger friend. I hated being the one that felt odd in my circle because I was a size 12 and everyone else was a 6. I hated feeling like the ugly and less interesting duckling because I wasn't an "exotic" person that moved here from the states and had the skinny white-girl genes that everyone crushed on. It was annoying, it was pathetic, it was the foundation of my depression. 

Skip ahead of March 2011, my freshman year of college. I had gained about 30 pounds. I know, right? Freshman 15? Puh-lease. More like Freshman 30. I joined Weight Watchers. I finally took my health into my own hands and joined this community that promised to make me lose weight, and become the skinny girl I've always dreamed of being. I started out fine. Weight Watchers was a dream. Eat anything I want as long as I count the points each day? Heck yes! That meant Ben & Jerry's FroYo, Lays Baked Doritos, Tater Tots, Wheat toast, Thin & Crispy pizza…no probe, all do-able because I had to just count the points for each item and not go over. I saw results too. I think between March 2011 and July 2013, I had just about taken off the 30 that I had gained my freshman year. I would LIVE for that scale; weighing in every Friday morning to see my trickle-down effect of 1 lb. here or 2 lb. shed there…it was motivating. 

Skip ahead to July 2013. Sure, I had been losing weight, but I still wasn't feeling, oh, I don't know…healthy. Something in me just wasn't feeling "optimal." But then my friend Jade, she looked amazing! I was seeing some awesome results with her fitness regimen and I wanted in and soon. What was she doing? Crossfit. I had heard of it, knew nothing about it. She started describing some of the things that they did and how effective it was. She had seen results so fast, and based off of one conversation, I started later that July. I went into Crossfit not knowing what to expect for myself. I got my measurements and weight taken and was told we could check again before I went off to school in late August. Wow, really? That's going to be a change from my weekly weight check-up. But okay, whatever. Matt, my fellow church worship team member, was the owner. I had forgotten he owned it! Perfect! Someone I know already in this new, scary place! He showed us the beginnings and foundational methodology and movements of Crossfit. He said from the very beginning that I moved very well, I was a natural and had one of the best squats he had ever seen. Obviously, I was pumped. This was going to be good, I thought. Then came the nutrition talk.

"Paleo. You know, caveman diet…" Uhhh, no...I don't know what Paleo is. Paleo comes from the term Paleolithic--the time of our ancestors that would hunt and gather their food, all natural, no toxins, hormones, antibiotics, junk ingredients, etc. It came from the earth, somehow made edible through ingenuity and went into the bodies of our very fit and very optimally healthy relatives. What does that tell you? That means bread and all its associations, refined sugar, processed foods, legumes, dairy and alcohol are a no-no. They are not natural, and the ingredients in them that do come from the earth do not settle well in the systems of human beings (like wheat, for instance, which have phytates in them naturally, which are ANTINUTRIENTS and bind to any mineral or vitamin found in wheat and making them absolutely useless in the human body not to mention how they're not worth eating because of the havoc they wreak on your intestinal lining).

Learning all of this new information made me freak out. What the heck was I going to do now?! I had been so used to eating whatever I wanted whenever I wanted and now I was being told that the real way to eat was protein, carb and fat and they ALL had to be derived from the natural, unharmed source  (making it paleo with no added junk to it). That actually made sense. I strongly believed in the message of paleo, but how was I ever going to adhere to it? How was I ever going to stick to it fully? I did my best for one month and to my surprise, the weight and inches dropped off considerably. My body fat percentage went down 2%. I couldn't believe how drastically different I looked in just one month and I know it was because of the way I was eating, not just Crossfit. My body loved this new way of eating, but those controlling cravings still existed. I still had treat meals every weekend, once a week. I had never gone strict paleo for more than 6 days. How in the world was I going to make this a lifestyle?

I spent one year of battling it out with eating paleo. Now, don't get me wrong, I eat paleo in every single one of my meals (granted my portions sizes are a little out of whack). The trouble is, I would make little slips here and there, little compromises then and now, and still have gorge-fests as treat meals. My mindset wasn't different. My body had kind of plateaued. I wasn't happy. I was still controlled by my emotions and cravings, and I hated it. I hated myself for it. I was so bitter, so angry, so resentful of everyone, everything…I gave up, or at least definitely felt like it. Even at the Crossfit I was going to in Tampa before I graduated (shout-out to my Crossfit Hyde Park peeps!), the girls there were making strides with their lifts, PRing this weight, doing all these things I wasn't able to do yet (like pull-ups) and I was so jealous; I felt so sorry for myself…it wasn't until I completed one of the Crossfit Open workouts, "14.5", that I truly felt on top of the world. I completed the workout RXed with one of the best female times in the entire gym. That was a pretty stellar feeling. Even more so, that was the first time I truly felt like an athlete and was told by one of my coaches, Alberto. That will always mean so much to me because it was the start of a change in my outlook on my journey.

Skip ahead to this summer. I came home. Things are always hard when you graduate and come home from college. I had a job, I quit. I had a relationship, it wasn't working. I had bills, no money. I had lost weight, I gained some of it back. I was doing well with my habits and cravings, they got the better of me again. Things were hard. They're still hard. But I guess I got sick of complaining and just screamed for a change. Desperation really does make you decide wholeheartedly to do something for a change. One of my goals since I started eating paleo was to commit to the Whole30 Challenge and do it before the end of 2014. The trick to Whole30 is that you cannot slip for those 30 days (which I've never been successfully able to do before) so that your body has a fair chance to reset and heal itself free from any interruptions from the bad foods we eat. Well, I wasn't going to miss out on Thanksgiving or Christmas dinner, so October was the only option and unlike one year ago, this time I'm ready.

Sometimes I go back and forth with that statement, but I know deep down I want this. I just gave you my entire story of being controlled by food and its powerful ability to mess up my emotions. You can see there is a long history of change that has been needing to happen for quite some time now. My cravings do control me and the idea of not being able to have a "treat" meal (why do we call eating bad things a treat?) once a week scares the crap out of me because I'm afraid of how hard that will be, the repercussions of withdrawal………but isn't that a good thing? Of course, when I take a step back and not think about the brownie cookie and chocolate cheesecake I had today and how delicious they were, then yeah, I know it's best. But man…that Waterfront Cinnamon Roll….how could you not want to eat that? That's what makes me so angry at myself as well. I know I shouldn't eat it. I'm even reading Whole30's guideline book, It Starts With Food, detailing every single reason why these foods are bad for us and what they do to our bodies and I still eat it. *smack my head.*

That's what I did today. I've been having mini panic attacks on the inside and have been dealing with them through eating the crap I would normally leave for a once a week meal, but I've been having something for the past three days before Oct. 1. Well, I won't be able to have it for 30 days, so better eat it now….that's scary. That sounds like a drug addict problem. I literally make plans to take money out of my stash change jar and make dollar amounts out of it so I can go buy something sweet with it. Seriously? From a coin jar? Definitely hooked on "crack" and not able to afford the habit--financially or physically. I know it's wrong, yet I don't stop. I want change, I want the results, I want the reset button to change my system from the inside out so I don't have these controlling cravings anymore. I want to finally be able to control them! AHHHHHHHHH!

What if Whole30 doesn't work? What if I do everything right and it doesn't work? Lord, that's the scariest part for me. I ask myself if I truly want it to work. Do I want my cravings to be reset and my body to be healed? Do I finally want to be able to look at myself and celebrate the non-scale victory instead of looking at my stretch marks and pulling at my loose body fat? Yeah. I'll miss those sweet things I guess. But I won't miss what they do to me. And it's about perspective change, right? Am I really willing to sacrifice my health for the sense of taste? Don't I want to finally reach that goal I've been working for since I was 12? Sure, the goal isn't skinny anymore, but the goal has always been to be fit and optimally healthy deep down, I just never knew it.

Another final, but certainly not least component of my story is how Jesus fits in. I never included him in on my health goals up until now. I'm doing a crummy job at the moment, but I do know that when I started asking for guidance and strength in this, my mind started to back away from the things that made me so enslaved to it (sugar) and be happy to choose the healthier options. I want that again, Lord. I want that mindset eternally. That is why I hope this Whole30 for me is incredibly mind- blowingly holy as well.

My advice to anyone out there that has any similarities to my story at all: "The secret of change is to focus all of your energy, not on fighting the old, but on building the new."-Socrates