"Steal my Sunshine" by Len

 

This video brings me baaaaack.  Such a dumb song, but how many songs have the word "sun" in it?  Plus, I'm being unabashedly ironic.  This will be my last post about the "Sun's out, Gun's out" challenge.  It wasn't as challenging as it was presumed to be.  In that I didn't step up to the challenge as much as I wanted to.  I did frequent the box more, and I have consistently cooked good food for the week, saving treats for the weekend.  I'll skip the food pictures, this time, too.

As it draws to an end, I have to reflect on why I was interested in the challenge at all.  Or why I am even at this box at all.

In the past few months, I have felt this incredible weight lift off of me, and it continually dissipates.  I had no idea how BIG this pressure was that I put on myself for the dumbest things.  For not being already perfect.  (I won't go into how I discovered this except to say it happened in a Target parking lot and I screamed at my sister about snow).  I spent a long time, 26 years too long, imagining that I was reaching for this unattainable goal, and that the only reason I wasn't reaching it was that I simply was not doing enough or trying hard enough or that I simply was not good enough.  As you may have surmised, this lead to a lot of guilt and sadness.  Guilt and sadness that became a norm for me.  Guilt and sadness that I had no idea I carried.  Guilt and sadness that I tried to consume.  Guilt and sadness that I tried to account for.  Guild and sadness that kept me shut off from being my true self and giving relationships 110%.  Guilt and sadness that motivated me to lash out at loved ones for not fitting into the "perfect" squares I had dissected everything in my life into.  My health was no exception.  I have been overweight most of my life.  I was born at freaking 9lbs5oz.  Big baby.  In some crazy, delusional, sounds like a teenager, gotta get out of my head, way, I thought I deserved being overweight, or rather staying overweight.  I didn't imagine that I deserved happiness until I was happy with my body.  I volleyed between tricking myself into thinking that I accepted myself the way I was and not being able to look in the mirror without crying or being embarrassed.  That's fucking stupid.  Which I knew, but made myself the exception for some reason.

I have a wonderful family, but being the 3rd and youngest (by 7 years) daughter of immigrant parents, body image just didn't come up a lot.  At least not in a positive way.  It's part of the Hong Kong culture to comment on other people's bodies and weight.  Me, being very much internally American, was very sensitive to this.  I didn't grow up with the tough skin that my parents had.  Where they give zero fucks what other people think of what they look like, it dictated a lot of opinions about myself.  There is so much more I could go into, but suffice it to say, I am finally growing up (or at least starting to) at the ripe old age of 26 and almost 11 months.  The older I become, the more I realize I do not know, the more I find out about myself and the world around me, and I am not so staunchly set in my ways.

Even though I feel freer now, and I am embracing aspects of myself I didn't know I should be proud of, I still have to talk myself into being nice to myself, quite often, actually.  It was SO ingrained in me, that it is taking a lot of rebuilding and kind words to myself to reach true happiness.  And I am also consciously reminding myself that it is a journey to happiness.  I kept waiting to just achieve happiness or health and then go on about my life.  False.  There will always be an insecurity or slip-up, but that's okay.  Accepting that is part of the journey, too.  It is so nice to laugh authentically, make comments without constantly censoring myself and editing my speech, to stick to my opinions, and to act confidently.

My doing Crossfit is so interrelated to this journey of self-discovery and acceptance.  There is no way around it.  Sure, there are other methods or instigators, but I truly believe it would have taken a lot longer to get there without Crossfit.  In a certain, cheesy way, Crossfit has saved me.  I repeat, Crossfit has saved me.  At a time, in which, I didn't even know I was drowning.  Crossfit was there for me.  Which leads me to celebrate my Crossfit-a-versary.

(yeah, I am not the kind of girl who wears makeup to the gym on a Saturday morning or wipes the sweat away; putting it all out there!)

Last weekend, on the Saturday before Memorial Day 2014, I completed a Hero WOD.  Well, half of one.  It was Murph.  I did half (800m run, 50 pull ups, 100 push ups, 150 squats, 800m run).  One year ago, I did this workout as my first ever true, Crossfit workout.  In 2013, it took me 50:00, and this year it took me 35:44.  I still did banded pull ups (last year, they were ring rows), but I didn't feel like I was going to die when I finished this year.  I think I will make this a tradition.  There are still a lot of goals I want to reach (I just found a list I made in January, that said I wanted to get double unders, toes to bar, and handstands...ha!  Might be wishful thinking, although the double unders are riiiiight there), but I have never done something for a whole year to benefit my health or to make a positive change in my life (except for schooling, which is finite).  I freaking love Crossfit, and in particular, I love my box, my coaches, and my fellow athletes (did I just call myself an athlete?  17 year old Angie on the bowling team and student council would be shocked).  I have truly dedicated and supportive members at my box.  I don't care if I've said it 100x, I'll say it 1000x more.  The affection I have for the positivity and self-love I feel within the walls of Crossfit Cornerstone can never be praised or appreciated enough. 

In this past year, I've grown muscles in my body that I didn't know I had.  I've gotten looks and comments from family members and friends seeing how my demeanor and my body have changed for the better.  I have become a friendlier, more outgoing person.  I do not hide from myself or others like I did in other gym settings.  I am more secure as a person, and feel less defensive.  I challenge myself every class I go to, to push a little harder under the guidance of my coaches and my instincts.  I climbed a rope (from laying on the ground).  I can walk up walls.  I've gotten my first sport related injuries (mostly bruises and scars).  I've been the slowest in class.  I've been the second to slowest in the class.  I've lifted heavier than half of the women at the box that day.  I've lifted way less than I could.  I've fallen on my ass.  I've dropped barbells on my head.  I've hit myself in the chest with a barbell.  I've fallen to my knees.  I've vomited after workouts.  I've stopped using an inhaler post-workouts.  I've had sweat dripping into my eyes.  I pushed a freaking truck!  And I've asked for help and advice, earnestly.  And this is just the beginning of the rest of my life!  I can't wait to see what it holds, and I am excited to meet and re-meet this Angie that is constantly growing, changing, and improving.