Day 1: Weight Lifting to Compete

Last night I spent 3 and a half hours in a gym with 5 people practicing for an Olympic weight lifting competition in 8 days.


It was challenging because I knew that I needed to learn, but I needed to be humble enough to accept that I had enough knowledge to be dangerous.


I started weight lifting in the gym to get healthy, to look like Ronda Rousey, to finally feel good in my own body.


I never felt good in my own body, since I can remember realizing I was overweight. This happened at a very young age and was only perpetuated by my parents and family. Interestingly enough, I never felt social pressure to conform to a specific body type. Some I think was cultural, in the South it is more important to eat and be a family at dinner time. Some might have been because I got good grades, I did not need to excel in a sport. I know a lot of my personal block was that I was still loved, and I was accepted regardless of how much I weighed.


For a while, I was very scared of whether or not losing weight would make me in to the type of person I assumed pretty, skinny girls all were - bratty, stupid, and frankly, at a risk for sexual predators.


Now, that took a very long time to come to terms with, and I'm still struggling with this fear of becoming "too good". Even though my entire brain is screaming at me to be perfect.


I lost weight to gain acceptance in college. I lost weight to gain acceptance of patients. All of these were perceived issues. I felt that I was not accepted unless I ate salads with the crew (not an entirely bad, awful thing, since I didn't realize eating healthy was the norm). I felt that I needed to be skinny so that my patients would take me seriously when I discussed Diabetes with them (perhaps because my mother never did, and she would flip to my diet when I spoke about hers).


But when I finally gained the momentum and the power and the self-love, it was because I felt awful in my body and I wanted to be able to do fun things. I wanted to be able to zip line and rock climb and do functional things with my body that I was always so scared of even trying (or being barred from trying due to weight limits). I wanted to be active for me.


So I started boxing, trying to kill 2 stones with 1 exercise program, trying to decrease my anxiety and fear and aggression through a bag. Which worked for a while mentally, but I was not losing weight because I was still drinking like a horse.


So then I started weight lifting, and took an interpersonal bet with my new trainer that I could go 3 months without a drop of alcohol.


That was hard. That was awful. I went all in - changed my diet, changed my exercise, changed my lifestyle. I went out, but ate to make up for the fact that I couldn't drink.


But I changed, and I changed drastically enough to make it worth it.


I have had 6 complete servings of alcohol since January 2015 - 5 during a concert that April, and 1 on my 25th birthday in September.


Both times I regretted the decision. Both times I decided to reserve alcohol for real celebrations.


But since September, I have not found a good enough reason to participate. I don't drink at weddings, before social events, or at family parties.


I am better for it. But that doesn't mean you have to.


I started weighing food and eating real food, rice, broccoli, and turkey became lunch. A protein pancake in the morning. 2 shakes. And some kind of dinner. 1200 calories I was making work, but the added protein was all I really needed.


Then I dropped weight and I needed a new goal. It clicked when 3 people within a few days said I looked like Ronda.


Well dang, then I'm done.


So then I switched and trained for aesthetics to compete in a body building competition. That lasted about a year. It was fun, but there were injuries and vacations and ill-food choices that made the goal seem unobtainable. Maybe it was also a mind block on being in school and trying to focus 110% on too many things at once.


But I got bored. Boredom is my biggest weakness. I have no patience. I have the aggression and the motivation, but it wanes when I'm asked to focus and I feel the focus floating everywhere.


So I asked my trainer to teach me Olympic lifts like he had gone to get coaching on himself. It looked like fun. Crossfit looked like fun. Being in a team, something I had never thought I was good at, was something I was now interested in. I love training by myself, but in lifts, your team cannot lift for you. They can push you and motivate you and be present, but your results are not affected by their results. You're all their to do the best you can do. Enticing.


But my trainer felt like I needed to learn from El Maestro.


So last night I met at the gym and warmed up. A little later, watching people and their warm ups. I watched them lift and go up in weights, with my little tiny bar staring me in the face.


We worked on snatches, which I was nervous to even show him what I could do.


And when he felt comfortable, we moved to clean jerks.


And then he felt really comfortable, and we added 10 pounds - it felt like nothing, but I could finally see where my trainer was getting his system.


It was just the confidence I needed. We tried a few squats for form evaluation, then moved on to kettle bell box squats for inner-thigh strength build up.


Then I cooled down (what?!) by doing the back hyperextensions and abs, as well as resistance band stretches and foam rolling. Because my right hip has been giving me troubles, I iced while I ate my last meal.


And I still haven't really processed "being on the team" and defending weight lifting (however I have always defended anyone doing anything for their health that doesn't hurt someone else). It's interesting because I don't want to lose my strength, so I will continue with my strength and conditioning trainer. But I want to learn a new skill so I'm going to a lift trainer.


It solidifies, along with a few other new things in my life, that I want to help people. This world is too much fun for me. Sure, I love being a nurse, but I want nursing to be my side job.


What if I got a nutrition certification and personal training maybe, and absolutely crushed life with my trainer? Is that what I want? Would anyone listen to me without abs?


Let me tell you something about me, if you haven't figured it out from this post. I am 100% psychopath. I want it all, and I have been told all my life I can get it all.


I need blinders. That's a personal thing. Perhaps my next goal is a pros and cons list for every life path I could take. And the risks and benefits of not doing what I want.


Because I really don't know what I want.