Show Up
My inspirational bullshit that I thought others might want to hear
I was on a run recently and this overwhelming feeling swept over me. I was struggling, my heart rate high even though my pace was slow. The heat was oppressive. I propped my hands on my knees, sucked in air and I wondered why do any of this? What is the benefit of doing something this hard? I could be at home, dry and comfortable. I drank some water. I walked, fighting a ball of emotion at the back of my throat. I was so tired. The thing that hurt so much was the lack of energy. It didn’t matter how much I slept or what I ate. If I worked out in the morning or the afternoon, I was tired.
**
This time last year I was contemplating a half marathon. This time last year I was steadily increasing my running mileage. This time last year I was lifting as heavy as I ever have. This time last year I was healthy.
Today my body is attacking itself and the immunosuppressants I take confuse everything else. Now I get mixed signals and I can’t show up like I did last year.
**
I tell my kid all the time to listen to his body. Now I hear it, in different iterations. Do what you can. As tolerated. As long as you’re improving.
The thing is, if I waited for the perfect moment I would never work out. So I still showed up and modified as needed.
I’m here, I’m doing it, keep going were my mantras when I had to decrease weight or cut mileage or drop reps or add assistance. It didn’t change the hurt I felt at the feeling of losing the fitness I had worked so hard for over the past nine years. Nine years of squats and pull-ups and pushups and rows. Nine years of sweat and showing up.
There are things I refuse to give up. For example, black eye liner and the side part. Reading and green tea with mint. I refuse to give this up too, even if it looks different.
Workouts used to be fun and energetic. Now…I sweat and gasp and fail.
All summer I worked out by myself, mostly because I was at the gym at odd times due to changes in my schedule. I was glad for it. To hide the sweat, tears, and struggles. I was showing up for myself and that was enough. Then, on this run, cheeks pale despite the heat, I wondered what if someone else needed to hear this? To hear the story of someone who keeps showing up for themself even when it’s hard?
I kind of hate writing inspirational shit. I don’t want to, girl, go-wash-your-face into doing something or douse you in cold soup made from dusty copies of Chicken Noodle Soup for The Soul. We are all here doing the best that we can. In the long run I know these workouts will help me, especially since my meds can cause osteoporosis (lift weights, ladies!), liver damage, suppress my immune system and a whole host of things I try not to think about.
Maybe this is an act of faith - in myself - to keep showing up. Faith, for me, is hard. Why believe in anything when you can believe in nothing? But where does faith begin but with myself? I hope you keep showing up for yourself on those hard days.
I’m not sharing to shame anyone into moving more. Maybe you show up for yourself in other ways- making the doctor’s appointment that you’ve put off or speaking up in that situation you would normally be quiet, or making the art that thrills but scares you.
Just show up, if anything, for yourself. I know you can.