I’m no stranger to working out. I’ve been exercising and coming up with workout routines for myself on and off for the past 10 years. I haven’t always been the most consistent with it but it’s definitely been a part of my life. Whether in the form of gym sessions or home based training sessions, I’ve amassed a nice collection of DVDs and youtube workouts, weights, resistant bands and other exercise related accessories over the years. I’ve dabbled in quite a few different areas from running, kickboxing and HIIT training to yoga. For the most part, exercising has been something I enjoy doing.
While I use to find it relatively easy to push myself in my workouts, my nutritional support had often been lacking. The research and dietary changes I’ve implemented in the last eighteen months has changed that but it’s been over two years since I’ve had any sort of consistent workout routine. Since the end of 2016, my health has been the dictating factor. My body simply hasn’t felt well enough to even think about doing any kind of semi-strenuous exercising… until recently. My health has improved significantly in the past couple of months and it’s had me thinking more and more about the idea of starting up an exercise routine again. So in true Kayla fashion, I wasted no time in signing up for a free month long trial of the fitness app, Aaptiv. I woke up the next morning, full of energy (well, mental energy at least) and excited to jump into my first 40 minute workout session – Abs, Booty and Cardio.
Things started off well but by the halfway point my heart was pounding out of my chest and I could feel my breakfast coming back up (ewww, sorry… honesty can be brutal!). I couldn’t get enough air. I tried breaking for longer and longer periods of time between each set of exercises but I just wasn’t recovering and I couldn’t catch my breath. I pushed on a little more and finally, with 8 minutes left to go, detached myself from my pride and quit. Pushing any further was just downright counterproductive. My body was spent.
I sat down for a minute before heading to the bathroom for a shower. I splashed some water on my face and realizing how shaky and lightheaded I actually was, sat down on top of the toilet to give my body another chance to recover. All at once the walls came crashing down and I was consumed by an overwhelming feeling of failure as the tears flowed. I sat on the toilet crying my eyes out for 20 minutes. They just kept coming. For eighteen months I have felt betrayed by my body and longed to feel strong again, to feel physically adequate.
“I thought I was starting off easy…” I texted my mom. “I’ve worked out over the years but never had the nutritional element to support it. Now I have that down and can’t do the cardio ugh I don’t know why I feel so discouraged. My brain wants to do more than my body can.”
In true mom fashion, she quickly replied with some sound advice: “Don’t do cardio stuff to start, you have been super busy. Start with more yoga; I’ll send you a link to a girl I like. You have come leaps and bounds compared to where you were, so look at all the ground you have covered versus the ground still to go. You will build up to it, you’re doing great,” she said.
“Thanks Mom,” I replied, “that’d be great. I haven’t even been doing yoga consistently and haven’t been getting enough sleep, my own fault. I don’t know why I thought high intensity would be best to start off with (insert laughing emojis). Laughing now. Pity party closing down. Love you!”
And just like that I realized how silly I had been and how right she was. Six months ago I had struggled to get through a grocery store. Since then I had planned and executed a six week trip to Canada, driving 21 1/2 hours each way on my own. I had undertaken a part time job as a bartender/waitress with no prior experience and had done so successfully. I had started riding horses again. I made new friends in a new country and pushed my body farther than I thought I could, farther than I probably should have. Through it all my body had been resilient, offering me more lee-way than it had in a long time. Why was I punishing it in return?
Why was I viewing my body as weak? Was it because I felt it didn’t live up to what I thought constituted as “strong?” Who’s definition of strong was I using? It wasn’t serving me well. Strength is not limited to what you see on the outside, I realized, as I thought about my journey over the past year and a half. In fact, I’m stronger now than I’ve ever been in so many ways.
One of the biggest lessons I’ve learned over the last couple of years is that it’s often the embracing, the letting go of whatever frustrations or expectations you feel like you’re just not meeting, that opens up the door to growth you may not have even realized was possible. It’s such an incredibly humbling but beautifully liberating experience. Maybe I’m just different (that’s entirely possible ha ha), or maybe I’m finally at a point in my life where I’m more open to receiving the lessons that so often present themselves if we’re only receptive, but these realizations seem to come frequently these days and I’m so grateful for them. I have every intention of building my body back up to what I know it can be. I still want those abs and the tight glutes too, and I’m confident I’ll get there. It probably won’t be tomorrow or next week or next month but it will be with eyes and ears open to what my body is telling me. Slow and steady. Learning to love the process.
Next week: NEW RECIPE POST!