Yourfreindlyneighbor

Day One Hello, beautiful people! Sore. I can't even believe it. I'm sore, and my workout from yesterday was nothing compared to what they used to be. Now, I'm not unbelievably sore, but sore enough that the feeling is uncomfortable. When did I ever get so weak? Also, I keep looking at a few protruding places on my body (the result of unnoticed weight gain) , thinking, "Whoa, how long as that roll been there?" It's kind of a wake up call. Today was just sort of rough, ever have one of those days when you don't know where your life is heading, or if you're doing the right thing? Well I had that sort of day today, and the sensation of weakness that is creeping up in my body just added to it. There's something about lifting and running and swimming that is so good, and so real, that I can't be away from it for too long without missing it sorely (pun not intended). And there's something about the day after, when your arms and legs feel sort of weak and tired and sore, when you know you did something the day before, and even if it wasn't much. It was something. When you feel discouraged, just do something, anything is better than nothing. Sometimes I just have to keep reminding myself of that. Today was a boring day- totally foggy and rainy- and I had classes all day so I didn't work out at all at the gym. I spent the day stretching out and trying to focus on appreciating this body of mine which I have ignored for the past few months. I focused mostly on hip flexibility (for splits) and headstands. Rough days should always end with good stretches. Goodnight, you beautiful people, whoever you are... Stretch (about 15 minutes twice a day) V stretch Lunge stretch A bunch of other stretches I don't know the names for that are basically variations of the two mentioned above (ten minutes on these stretches) downward dog headstand (with wall support)

The Day of Zero So first, I'd like to introduce myself. Hi! I'm Maria, your friendly neighbor. I have a great number of interests, but number one right now is getting my body to a happier, healthier place. I'm not worried about how I look (and neither should you, because you're all beautiful people) but am more so concerned with how I feel. And right now, today, I feel pretty week. I took a break from lifting, running, and eating right about a month ago and today, my body just spoke to me and said, "Maria, stop what you're doing. Take me for a jog." So after this post, that's exactly what I'm going to do. My goals? Well for one thing I'd just like to be strong, more flexible, and faster. What's today? March 2nd? Okay, well let's say that in a month I'd like to be feeling better. I plan on spending fifteen minutes before bed and when I wake up stretching, and I plan on lifting four times a week. I'm not really big on cardio, but I do want to start running in order to get back into shape for my true love- swimming. But we'll worry about that later. A little about me- I'm about tennish or fifteen pounds heavier than I'd like to be- 156 lbs and 5'3, down from a 167 (which is not a significant amount of weight loss for me because those pounds come off and on easily). But I'm not really all that worried about weight at all- on the contrary, I'm headed back to the gym because I don't feel that well anymore, and I want to get better. If you want to stick around to watch and cheer and talk, or you have any advice, let me know. I'd love to hear it. Tonight's Workout Dumb bell Bench Press (15 lbs. <sigh> got to start somewhere I guess) 8 reps 3 sets Bent Over Dumbbell Row (20 lbs) 8*3 Shoulder Press (15) 8*3 Lying Tricept extension (15 lbs) 8*3 Dumbbell Curl (20) 8*3 Tonight's Stretch Seated Trapezius Stretch 30 secs. each side 2 times Shoulder Stretch 30 sec each side twice Tricept Stretch 30 sec. each side twice Tip and Tuck 1 minute twice

I never would have imagined that this was possible. My first week eating Paleo style was more difficult than anything I'd ever done before. Never in my entire life, had I ever realized that sugar, breads, even coffee could be such addictions. They had a hold on me tighter than deaths grip. At 19 years of age, I was unhappy, and very aware of how unhappy I was. It wasn't just the reflection in the mirror that bothered me (though bad body image certainly had taken its toll), but it was more my everyday experiences with my body that plagued me. I have always enjoyed volunteering, and laborious work was what I loved most. I fell in love with Habitat for Humanity, but was soon made very aware that my body was hindering my performance, and consequently I was often looked over for some of the harder jobs. These more difficult tasks, often requiring heavy lifting, were offered to the boys who were bigger and stronger. My struggle with my body wasn't so much that I was overweight. More than that, I hated the fact that I was weak. I spent most of my time my senior year of high school trying to "get skinny" because for some ridiculous reason, I was under the impression that the words "skinny" and "in-shape" were synonymous. They aren't. And even when I did lose weight, I couldn't keep it off. My closet became a whirl of skirts and pants that never seemed to fit. They seemed to be too big and too small all at once as my weight fluctuated. I ate less and less and less, worked out more and more and more, and still could hardly seem to get my life together. This went on until one day, on a habitat build, I stood on a roof, nailing plywood onto rafters, my feet shoved between trusts, and my body struggling to find it's balance. The men on the roof were knocking these nails into the wood in just one or two strikes. It took me anywhere from five to ten hammer blows to get one little nail into the wood. I made a deal with myself, "No more getting skinny to fit into tiny dresses. No more being hungry. I don't care about being little anymore. I don't care if my arms get big as long as I can wield a hammer as well as any of these men. As long as I can carry my own weight, as long as I can take care of myself." I am on the road to that place now. My first week of Paleo was hard, I won't lie. I kept thinking I was going to die, and wondered how anyone could live like this. (Dramatic, I know) The second week, I just focused on going from meal to meal, and I began to enjoy cooking for myself again. By the third week, I had lost enough weight that all of my clothes fit me, and finally my cravings started to subside. By week four, I was down 12 ish pounds, and had lost a few inches in my waist and hips. Being a bit more light weight, I became more energized, and actually wanted to work out for the first time ever. I had my brother take me to a gym and show me how to dead lift. I LOVED IT. Even though I was totally intimidated by the thin women on the treadmill staring at me intensely, and the big old boys on the weight floor who were all lifting weights that were twice my entire body weight, I was deeply comforted by my brother's calm encouragement. I remember during our first work out, I was in the middle of doing 60 lunges after having lifted weights and having done like a million squats, and I got into the 40's when one of my legs gave up on me. Embarrassed, I turned to my brother and said, "I can't. I'm not going to make it. I just can't." He calmly responded, "You can. Don't think about how many reps you have left. Just think about the next one. You got this." I did it. I made it even though I was absolutely sure that it was going to be impossible for me to finish that workout. These days, I keep thinking about how I wasn't strong enough to knock those nails into place on that Habitat Build. When times get rough, I feel like those nails. I feel like someone is beating down on my head when people discourage my dietary/ lifestyle transformations, but I let them bear down because they are beating me into a new life, and the harder the blow, the deeper I drive into this change. I am never going back.