An Active Weekend

This weekend was absolutely wonderful. First, I got some major quality time with my boo, and second, I spent so much time being active.

The weather was absolutely beautiful, which after the winter we had (including a mid-April blizzard), was much appreciated. It was so warm and sunny that it was impossible to not be outside.

On Saturday, I woke up around 8:00 and decided to hit the gym while Jesus was still asleep.

Today was bench day. I started off with a warm-up: 10 reps at 45 pounds followed by 10 reps at 55 pounds. I then started building up: two sets of 5 reps at 65 pounds, two sets of 5 reps at 75 pounds, and three sets of 3 reps at 80 pounds. Pre-injury (and in my lifting heyday), 85 pounds was the maximum amount of weight I could lift without a spot. So, I am pretty darn proud of myself that I was able to lift what I did today. (Had I had a spot, I could've done more weight and more reps, but I wanted to be somewhat conservative.)

Muscle memory must be real. These pecs remembered what to do.

After that workout, I moved on to close-grip bench. While the movement is similar, the grip is way closer (duh) to the middle of the bar, which means that the triceps are really worked; therefore, the amount able to be lifted is much less. But, I lifted pretty much what I did before my lengthy break: five sets of 10 reps at 55 pounds.

Today, my muscles are feeling like they did something yesterday.

After my trek to LA Fitness, I headed down to Harriet Island Regional Park, a beautiful area that borders the Mississippi River about two minutes from our house. It's also my new favorite place to run/walk.

I love the Wabasha Bridge, and the blossoming trees were so beautiful.

Everything is finally green!

In my pre-injury days, I loved running; half marathons were my favorite. Unfortunately, I have not been able to get back into it too much yet. I want to change that, however, so I decided to try Couch to 5K. (While I can run/walk on my own for 30 minutes -- shoot, I used to run for a couple hours at a time -- I thought it might be helpful to have the verbal cues of when to run and when to walk.)

So yesterday, I did the second day of the first week of C25K, and it went super well. I ended up going about two miles.

Shortly after I got home (and inhaled a turkey sandwich), Jesus wanted to head out for some more outdoor fun. We prepped our bikes and hit the trails -- again, down by the river.

I can't even say it without thinking of this sketch.

It was great; we rode across the bluff overlooking the river, and then we headed down a crazy-huge hill by our house. (I was riding the brakes nearly the entire time -- and also dreading the climb back up.) Then we paused a few times in the park to check out the water, the scenery, etc. We even rode down to Raspberry Island, a spot of land smack-dab in the middle of the Mississippi.

Don't worry: my helmet was buckled when we were actually riding.

Then we decided to ride further and headed into Lilydale. When we were a couple miles into that jaunt, I noticed a sound coming from my tire. I thought that maybe something was just stuck in it, so I stopped, bent down, and attempted to remove whatever it was.

Well, nothing was stuck.

Instead, my tire was leaking air.

Ugh.

We stopped, pulled out the extra tube, patches, and bike tools -- and attempted to change this darn tire. Thankfully, cyclists are the nicest people on the planet, and every single person offered to help. After far-too-long, we had the tire replaced (and our kind helper was well on his way), and we were pumping it up.

Unsuccessfully.

We could not get the tire to hold air.

And then it started to rain.

Finally, we basically said screw this, and I started walking my bike home (and likely ruining my clips on the two-mile journey) while Jesus rode up ahead (taking a "short cut" that involved three massive massive hills) to get the car.

Then, my phone died.

So, I was by myself. In the woods. While it was raining. With no phone.

Have I mentioned that I've been obsessed with Criminal Minds and My Favorite Murder? Yeah. Not a good combination.

Eventually, at the bottom of the afore-mentioned hugest hill ever, Jesus (in the car) and I met.

I tried filling up the tire with my foot pump today, and I still couldn't get it to hold air. We took it to the bike shop, and while the tech initially thought I was just super dumb since the shop pump was working, realized that once he put so much air in, it all leaked right back out. Something was wrong with the valve stem, and they are replacing the tube as we speak.

While we didn't get to attempt a longer ride today, I instead went to Pilates and did a kick-butt class this morning. It was a class with one of my favorite instructors, and dang, she made me sweat profusely. All she has to do is verbally cue (or even physically adjust) minor tweaks in my form, and I want to die -- in the best way possible. It was a great stretch, and I know I'm going to be feeling it even more tomorrow.

Getting back in the saddle (quite literally, in fact) has done such wonders for me -- physically, yes, but even more so, emotionally. I am in a much better place than I was even two weeks ago, and I am so thankful for that.

Yay, endorphins!

Peace,

A Return to LA

While I wish this post was about a trip to Los Angeles, it's not; however, I am honestly nearly as excited as I would be about a trip to Cali.

In December 2015, I joined LA Fitness, as it was inexpensive and across the street from my apartment. I loved that place and was quite the gym rat, spending upwards of two hours there each day, skipping happy hour with colleagues to lift weights, making friends with other "regulars." I loved it so much, in fact, that I started working there part-time, simply to spend more time at the gym.

However, I ended up working much more than fit comfortably into my schedule, and I was therefore unable to workout as much as I liked. And, that whole ankle injury was quite a hindrance to my lifting regimen, too.

I stopped working at the gym this winter, and I never reactivated my membership. After all, I had found Pilates, and let's be real: I didn't want to have to pay the initiation fee again. But, I really, really missed lifting -- and I really, really wanted to get back into it.

Long story short, after talking to my former boss last week, I got my membership reinstated (free of charge), and I switched my club to one much closer to my house.

Today, I worked out at the gym for the first time in months.

And it felt incredible.

I started with my favorite -- deadlift. I was going to keep it fairly light (135 pounds), but on my second set, a woman approached and asked if she could alternate with me. That has never happened to me at the gym, and I was all about it. It was really nice having partner of sorts.

I ended up doing three sets of five at 135 pounds, and then we started increasing: one set at 145 pounds, two sets at 155 pounds, and then a set of three at 165 pounds and 175 pounds.

I. Was. Pooped.

And it felt incredible.

Then I moved onto the leg press, where I did two sets of ten at 298 pounds and three sets of ten at 388 pounds. When I stood up to add the plates between sets two and three, my quads definitely let me know that they were being worked. I almost had to take a lengthier break just to get them to stop firing.

But I pushed on.

Finally, I did five sets of ten good mornings with a 30-pound barbell on my shoulders. That is one of my favorite lifts: it feels fairly easy, but it works those hammies and glutes like you wouldn't believe.

Just being in the gym -- lifting, sweating, working hard -- worked wonders for my self-esteem, for my mental health. I already can't wait to go back.

That being said, here's my workout plan for this week:

Monday: Pilates
Tuesday: Deadlift + Leg Press + Good Morning
Wednesday: Pilates
Thursday: Pilates + Walk/Run
Friday: Bench + Close-Grip Bench + Shoulders
Saturday: Squats + Lunges
Sunday: Pilates + Walk/Run

I'm excited to talk more about the walking/running I have planned, but friends, it was a hard day of lifting, and I'm pooped. So, stay tuned. :)

Peace,

A New Beginning

This is not my first blog. Hello, The Swallow Flies. It's not even my second blog. Ms. Bollinger's Global Classroom, I'm looking at you.

But sometimes, a girl just needs a fresh start, a literal blank page.

Last week, I needed a break from life, and I went home -- to Omaha, to my parents. On my drive home, I often get emotional, and I'm not entirely sure why. This trip was no different, and I became teary-eyed many times on my trek.

Life has been hard lately.

This is another "I'm not really quite sure why" situation.

After all, I am in the most wonderful relationship with a man who believes in me, cheers for me, supports me, listens to me cry, deals with my crazy, encourages me, and I could go on and on. As my mom has said, I've sure "kissed a lot of frogs," but I have finally found The One. And we are doing so, so well.

And my family is the absolute best in the universe. My parents are my biggest cheerleaders, and my brother and sister (and their significant others) are some of my greatest friends. And my nephews could not be more amazing. (Plus, let's not forget that I have the best kitties in the universe.)

I am also doing some really cool things professionally: I am traveling to Colombia this summer as part of my Teachers for Global Classrooms fellowship, my partner and I are taking students to Peru next summer, and I was selected as one of two teachers from across the district to serve on the committee that is creating new equity training.

Finally, I found a fitness routine that I can do, that makes me feel good, and in which I excel. And with it, I also found an incredible community of women, people of all ages and walks of life whom I look forward to seeing at every class.

Yet, I just haven't been feeling emotionally wonderful lately. Despite constantly reminding myself of the aforementioned amazingness that is my life, I have been really, really down. Mental health is real, y'all.

There are a number of factors at play in my less-than-stellar psyche.

First, for reasons I will refrain from mentioning in a public blog, work has been challenging lately. Quite honestly, this has been the most difficult year-and-a-half of my professional life. I have always had a very difficult time compartmentalizing work and personal, so the frustrations and stresses that I have at school are carrying over into every facet of my life.

Additionally, I had the most amazing friend group in Iowa, and leaving them was really, really hard. I knew that things would change when I left, but I was unprepared for how much, and that has been a tough pill to swallow.

Finally, my self-esteem has been in the toilet the last year or so. Due to my ankle injury -- and subsequent six months on-and-off in a boot, physical therapy, steroid injections, and surgery -- I have been unable to exercise like I want. My favorite activities -- running and power-lifting -- have been a no-go for the last 18 months, and the lack of fitness has taken a toll on my body. I went from being in the best physical shape of my life to being in the worst. While I truly do not care about the number on the scale, I do care about feeling good in my skin, about feeling good in (and being able to fit into) my clothes. Despite all of the affirmations I receive from those closest to me, my inner thoughts get the best of me, and I just do not feel good right now.

I'm attempting to track macros, thinking that this is the best option for me. I've done a few rounds of Whole 30, and while that was awesome the first go-around (aside from that whole allergy thing), it just isn't a realistic lifestyle for me: I want to be able to eat oatmeal and drink a glass of wine.

I started with Avatar Nutrition two months ago. And while I kicked butt the two weeks prior to spring break, I have not been able to get back on track with 100% compliance. As I was talking it out during my last therapy session walk around the lake with my mom, I came to the conclusion that I need a space to write about my struggles and successes and feel accountability.

I also need that space (this space) -- to just write -- in order to keep my sanity.

I love writing. I loved blogging. And I'm excited to get back to it.

[Side note: As far as mental health goes, I was on drugs in college: Lexapro and Wellbutrin. While I'm pretty sure I could benefit from pharmaceuticals right now, I also hated how I felt on them, so that is not something I'm considering again at this point. I have also seen three therapists in my life: the first I did not care for, the second I loved (and had to leave when I moved from Des Moines), and the third was okay (and really, really essential due to some significant life events). I like therapy, but I want to try a few more things on my own before I go back. And let's be real: I don't like the bill that comes along with therapy; our country needs to revisit how we feel about -- and fund -- mental health.]

I can't promise how often I will blog -- while I thrive on organization and list-making, committing to a blogging schedule will undoubtedly give me unnecessary anxiety, so I am just going to go with the flow and blog when I feel it's necessary.

And, it's highly unlikely that anyone will be reading this initial post for quite a while: in fact, when I told my mom that I was considering blogging again, I also told her that I needed to be in a much better place mentally before I let anyone else in on the hot mess that is my brain. :)

Thanks for following my journey, friends.

Peace,