Yesterday I finally made it back to Kickboxing after the tragic tragic day when my new gloves tore the sh*t out of my knuckles. I seriously made plans to never actually punch someone in the face because if I caught teeth it would tear my knuckles up in the same way, plus I'm pretty sure your bones hurt after that too. So, note to self, no face punching. Aim elsewhere.
So I was nervous to go back because it has been nearly a full two weeks. Plus I was scared for my wee knuckles. But I bought some new gloves AT the CKO gym so I couldn't screw it up again. (This was my third try at buying gloves. The first time I just bought wraps thinking they were gloves and the 2nd time the gloves ate my hands) But these new ones are kind of awesome sauce so I'm a happy camper.
Anyway in the past 2 weeks I haven't kicked boxes, but I've done a few work outs here or there. But I definitely felt my body expanding. Clothes are a little tighter, things are a little wigglier and I'm not singing as many verses of "I Feel Pretty!" every morning when I get ready. So I'm glad to be back at it. Even working out 3 days a week makes me feel better about myself.
Going back felt great. I love walking back into the gym, having instructors say "There she is!" and recognizing that I've been missing. (And not judging me for it.) But there was one moment at the beginning of class where I was reminded why I work out. I was so flippin' jiggly... Like a bowl full of Jello or old Saint Nick.
The most devastating moment was when we dropped down for some mountain climbers and I could literally feel my exo-layers move up and down as I worked it. GROSS!
But guess what else? It helped me to push harder that whole class. It helped me push myself.
I've kind of come to a conclusion. The scale is not my friend. And not because I think I'm a fatty (even though I kind of do because food and I are frenimies).
It's not my friend because there is nothing that the scale can tell me that I don't already know about myself. I know that I need to lose a few pounds to be healthier. But my weight does not define who I am as person.
This is something that I often have to remind myself. And every man, woman and child should remind yourself. Be healthy. Eat well. Move your body. But do not let the outer you define the inner you.
You will be happier and more comfortable if you work out and eat healthier. I am living proof of that. But a few pounds extra does not an unhealthy person make. It does not an unkind person make. It does not a bad person make.
My completely unsolicited advice is to get to know your body. Look at yourself nakey before jumping in the show. Touch your belly, your arm fat, your butt, your thighs. Get to know the body that you have so that you can work towards the body that you want.
Ok, let me climb off my soap box and finish this blog post.
I'm a huge fan of this photo (which is not mine and has totally and completely been stolen off the interwebs)
There is no more proof than that for me to realize that there is nothing a scale can do for me.
I base my health by the tightness of my jeans. The fit of my clothes. The looseness of my clothing. The way certain shirts fit around my upper arms. How much my jeans leave little red lines on my tummy. If I have that annoying blub that bras sometimes sneak in just to keep you on your toes.
With one week of CKO and other work outs I can see changes in my body. Those changes may be entirely in my head, but that doesn't matter. Because I feel it and I dig it and I want more.
My scale is no longer a huge part of my life. It cannot tell me that I am b-e-a-utifal! Any why would I want something like that around?
And I am, you know. Beautiful. Even if my body jiggle jiggles during kickboxing class.
So I was nervous to go back because it has been nearly a full two weeks. Plus I was scared for my wee knuckles. But I bought some new gloves AT the CKO gym so I couldn't screw it up again. (This was my third try at buying gloves. The first time I just bought wraps thinking they were gloves and the 2nd time the gloves ate my hands) But these new ones are kind of awesome sauce so I'm a happy camper.
Anyway in the past 2 weeks I haven't kicked boxes, but I've done a few work outs here or there. But I definitely felt my body expanding. Clothes are a little tighter, things are a little wigglier and I'm not singing as many verses of "I Feel Pretty!" every morning when I get ready. So I'm glad to be back at it. Even working out 3 days a week makes me feel better about myself.
Going back felt great. I love walking back into the gym, having instructors say "There she is!" and recognizing that I've been missing. (And not judging me for it.) But there was one moment at the beginning of class where I was reminded why I work out. I was so flippin' jiggly... Like a bowl full of Jello or old Saint Nick.
The most devastating moment was when we dropped down for some mountain climbers and I could literally feel my exo-layers move up and down as I worked it. GROSS!
But guess what else? It helped me to push harder that whole class. It helped me push myself.
I've kind of come to a conclusion. The scale is not my friend. And not because I think I'm a fatty (even though I kind of do because food and I are frenimies).
It's not my friend because there is nothing that the scale can tell me that I don't already know about myself. I know that I need to lose a few pounds to be healthier. But my weight does not define who I am as person.
This is something that I often have to remind myself. And every man, woman and child should remind yourself. Be healthy. Eat well. Move your body. But do not let the outer you define the inner you.
You will be happier and more comfortable if you work out and eat healthier. I am living proof of that. But a few pounds extra does not an unhealthy person make. It does not an unkind person make. It does not a bad person make.
My completely unsolicited advice is to get to know your body. Look at yourself nakey before jumping in the show. Touch your belly, your arm fat, your butt, your thighs. Get to know the body that you have so that you can work towards the body that you want.
Ok, let me climb off my soap box and finish this blog post.
I'm a huge fan of this photo (which is not mine and has totally and completely been stolen off the interwebs)
There is no more proof than that for me to realize that there is nothing a scale can do for me.
I base my health by the tightness of my jeans. The fit of my clothes. The looseness of my clothing. The way certain shirts fit around my upper arms. How much my jeans leave little red lines on my tummy. If I have that annoying blub that bras sometimes sneak in just to keep you on your toes.
With one week of CKO and other work outs I can see changes in my body. Those changes may be entirely in my head, but that doesn't matter. Because I feel it and I dig it and I want more.
My scale is no longer a huge part of my life. It cannot tell me that I am b-e-a-utifal! Any why would I want something like that around?
And I am, you know. Beautiful. Even if my body jiggle jiggles during kickboxing class.
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