Solcana blog

Last week a colleague snapped a full body picture of me. For the first time – in maybe my whole life – I didn’t hate it. I didn’t sit and scrutinize and identify all of my ‘trouble areas’ or better yet, delete the picture entirely. In fact, for the first time in my life I let it be seen.

I have always struggled with my perception of the way I look. This could be for many reasons, though I know for sure some of it has to do with the feedback I received as a kid, in my adolescent years, and even early adulthood. This is confusing because, growing up, I was always in the healthy range for my height. Yet I constantly felt like a giant blob. Sure, some of that is just puberty and hormones…it also has to do with all the times I heard disapproval about the way I looked from people that mattered to me. Disapproval that imprinted on my brain, of which I still hear running through my 37 year old mind on a nearly daily basis.

When I was 24, I was finally diagnosed with Graves’ Disease after a long battle of the unknown. It was great to finally be diagnosed after years of speculation – Multiple Sclerosis, Lupus, Rheumatoid Arthritis. My resting heart rate was 106 (normal is closer to 60, meaning my heart was not working efficiently). One of the symptoms of Graves’ is hyperthyroidism. For me, this meant I needed to sleep 16 hours a day, every day, because my entire body was working triple time in overdrive. Much of my hair fell out. I couldn’t wash my hair by myself in the shower because I couldn’t lift my arms that high – my joints were too swollen, inflamed, and retaining too much water. I lost all strength in my hands making it impossible to open a milk jug. I lost 30 lbs over the course of two months (of course which too many people complemented me on. Also runs through my head on a daily basis.) I was terribly sick. But, upon diagnosis, I chose a treatment plan. My thyroid stopped working completely soon after because of the radioactive iodine treatment I opted for, killing the organ completely and launching me to the opposite end of the spectrum: hypothyroidism. And, since thyroid plays such an essential role in metabolism, you guessed it…I suddenly no longer had one of those, either.

Fast forward through 13 years of high doses of thyroid hormone and an inactive metabolism and you had me before I started this relationship with Solcana CrossFit. By medical standards, I was a relatively healthy adult. My hair grew back, my joints eased up, my strength returned. But my weight had shot up and hovered within a +/- 3lb place for the last five years. I did not have a working metabolism and I didn’t know how to manage that.

It was depressing. I met with nutritionists. I tried Weight Watchers; a few times. I worked out pretty regularly – though by myself – for a lot of these years. Hell, I even ran a half marathon (very slowly, I mean, at one point in the race I looked to my left to see an elderly gentleman, walking, wearing jeans, and juggling. AND WE WERE GOING THE SAME SPEED). I did a lot of things not very well and without a lot of information, and I didn’t see many results. I would give up. Every time.

I felt ugly and weak and invisible and unworthy and so many other things that I know so many other people can relate to. I hated that. I hate that. I lived this life for thirteen years without letting anyone know it’s how I felt about myself. I played the game. I faked the life. It was exhausting and I was always tired.

Now at 20 weeks of CrossFit it’s less about the way I look and more about the way I feel. I am a strong woman, and I am only going to continue to get stronger. COME AT ME BRO. (but only if you’d like to take me out for a nice night on the town, I’m really not into fighting.)

I can’t stop thinking about how well the mission of Solcana really encompases the work that happens within it’s four walls. “The power to change. The strength to do it.” It’s the truth. We’ve all got it in us, we might just need help finding it. Last night is the perfect example as we did spear carries (literally a weighted barbell carried with one arm above your head like throwing a spear, walking one length of the gym), which was a new thing for me and it took me a while to get it. And, eventually, I couldn’t hold it anymore and just said, “I can’t.” Coach Jake smiled and looked at me and told me to try it with a kettlebell. I did. It worked. I didn’t give up. We just changed the game a little. Add that to the fact that last night I also actually did real pushups, six sets of three, before moving on to assisted pullups (still working on those!). The pushups didn’t look great, but you know what?! I did those biatches from the ground instead of elevated from a box (I had recently graduated down to the 20″ height). 20 weeks ago I could barely even do one on a box!  And bar-facing burpees? I still haven’t mastered them but the thing is that last night, I did them. They were terribly ugly but I DID THEM. It wasn’t that long ago that I could not even manage one, let alone multiple in an AMRAP (as many reps as possible) WOD (workout of the day). This is strength. This is me not giving up. This is me realizing I can do stuff that I never, ever thought I could. The power to change. The strength to do it.

I have always struggled with my perception of the way I look. I am continuing to work to change that and learning to celebrate my accomplishments with my friends who understand what those mean to and for me. I am proud of my achievements and milestones in the gym to date. I can see them, feel them, and measure them, which is an amazing concept for me considering how much time I spend in the subjective comedy world of judgement and comparison and competition. It’s a welcomed solace. I am proud of this 20 week journey to date. I am proud of the weights I can lift, the distance I can run, the muscle definition I’m starting to see in my arms and shoulders, the different way clothes are fitting me, the conscious food choices I’m making, and how my body is a machine and it is okay for me to take care of it and treat it with the love and respect it deserves.

I have always struggled with my perception of the way I look. But I can feel that struggle fading away. I have the power to change, and the strength to do it. We all do. Sometimes we just need a little help finding it.