I Love the Smell of Camphor in the Morning

So, I’m 41-years-old.

I’ve heard that 40 is the new 30, and I guess mentally that is probably correct. However, I still have a 40+ year old body; one that I abused in my childhood thru early 20’s when I was dancing. (Did you know I was once, ages ago, a professional dancer?)

So here I am, 41-years-old, pushing my body to produce the results I know I can achieve… and my body is pissed about it. Right now I’m experiencing every ache and pain this vessel can throw at me. My foot hurts badly enough that it’s painful getting out of bed, my thighs aches after Spinning, and my knees hurt from riding my bike.

Every night I find myself lubing up with balms, and using all manner of pain relieving patches. Seriously, if they made a suit out of Tiger Balm patches, I’d buy three. Many of these salves for aches and pains contain camphor, which smells DELIGHTFUL, is soothing, and cooling. I’ve just discovered that this delightful substance comes from a tree, which hails from Asia. SIGN ME UP. I want exclusive, on-demand access to this glorious tree and its menthol-ly goodness.

According to the webpage, http://besttreestoplant.com/trimming-trees/the-camphor-tree/, the camphor tree is the official city tree of Hiroshima, Japan. After the city was destroyed at the end of WWII, this fast-growing tree helped bring the city back to life.

IF THIS ISN'T A METAPHOR FOR MY LIFE, I DON'T KNOW WHAT IS. 

Whether I'm biking, lifting, swimming, weeding, or just walking, the sweet camphor tree (in a roundabout way) is bringing me back to life; helping me to recover for the next workout, and the next adventure. I love the smell of camphor, because it means I've done my best during the day, and pushed myself to a new level of fitness. Therefore, I embrace the aches and the pains, and the lovely smell of healing, because it means I'm changing, and coming back to life. 

By the way, I do have a birthday coming up. (Hint, hint.)

This Ain't for Sissies

It’s turning out to be a rough week for me. Perhaps I’m tired, maybe I’ve been pushing myself too hard, or maybe it’s because the 11^th of May is my mother’s birthday, and I miss her deeply and terribly. Maybe it’s because Mother’s Day is on the 14^th, and I just want to pull the covers up over my head.

Seems like it doesn’t take much to push me off-kilter. And damn if I’m not the most insecure person… that when I’m in one of these “moods,” I start to question myself, my friends, and my purpose. So I start to take drastic measures. I start trying to correct the things that are wrong, even though nothing is really WRONG. I turn into a blithering idiot and a big sissy.

I fabricate, I deprecate, I abdicate.

So this time around, rather than hiding in my room, eating a ton of fattening goodies, and drinking lots of beer, I’m changing it up. I’ve been riding my bike. Weeding hops. Taking walks. Eating LESS. The weird thing is, I still feel like I’m hiding, because I’m following relatively solitary pursuits. The difference it, being alone on my bike doesn’t make me feel like a jerk. Walking through the woods on my own doesn’t allow me to eat four donuts, and weeding in the quiet whisper of tall grass, and the rustle of hops doesn’t feel BAD. I’m alone, but it feels GOOD that I’m blessed to be so.

Please don’t get me wrong, or misunderstand – I still love my son, and love spending time with him. We still watch FaceOff on SyFy, go to movies, and even exercise together. We are still a team… but sometimes you don’t need a team to get shit done. Sometimes, when you’re having a rough time, and are trying to avoid pitfalls, you just need to man up on your own. 

I don't really know what else I can say right now, other than to assure you all that I'm holding firm. I've lost weight, and I feel too good to screw up again. I have inspiration and determination like never before. I'm holding firm. I may be holding firm by the fingertips, but that's OK. 

F#@k Quitting

The title of this post is a direct quote from my sister, when we were discussing a day when I was under my calorie total, but I had eaten a bunch of crap. Not fast food crap, but gummy bears, chips, no lunch, and a thrown-together meal of cereal and an apple. It was just one of those days when I didn't prepare the night before, and was too tired / lazy / whatever, to make an effort in the morning. Here is part of our conversation (and I hope my sis isn't mad that I'm sharing):

My sister is my partner in crime, and my support in the journey to weight loss. We are both active on My Fitness Pal, we encourage each other, and we push each other to reach our highest potential. Even when I told her I was going to Spinning on Saturday, and she told me I was crazy, she still texted me later to find out how it went. I also have three very dear friends who I see every week (and sometimes every day) that ride with me, lift with me, and walk with me. I have another friend who messages me all the time, to keep track of my cycling goals and to cheer me on. 

I am very, very lucky.

I think today, if you don't take anything else from this post, you will at least remember how hard it is to lose weight on your own. Remember, always, how hard it is to work out on your own. Remember, today, that quitting is easy when you have no one to whom you are accountable. 

Find a friend. Get a buddy. Pick a partner. 

Whatever you do, don't go it alone, and don't quit. Cause quitting is easy when you're alone. And if you need a friend, buddy, partner in crime, please give me a ring, cause you can never have too many of each.

#fuckquitting