MY BOGGY BLOG: find your way through the murk

Leaping over Mental Hurdles

Today I did something that I've been afraid of for awhile--- I took an exercise class at the YWCA where I work out. I know, it sounds like such a small thing... it's just a class, nothiing bad will happen, people are friendly, you can always stand in the back. But for me, along with other things in my life, it had become a Big Deal just to think about taking an exericse class. Taking a writing class? No problem, I could do that without giving it a thought. But any new physical challenge becomes a giant roaring monster in my head that keeps me quaking in my running shoes, and I have to really work up to getting past those monsters.

Back when I was more of a regular size, I didn't have such fears. But after having kids and going through serious depression in my 30's, I gained a lot of weight, and my world and my body-confidence shrunk smaller and smaller. At my highest, I weighed almost 350 lbs. I became more like a disabled person-- just walking 2 blocks was excruciating for me; I had terrible back and knee pain, and that made me want to do less and less. When I found out I had degenerative arthritis in my knees, I thought I was doomed. Physically, I was very limited in what I could do. But just tryiing to be a Really Big Person in the world also sapped any confidence I had as I tried to get through everyday life. Clothes shopping was awful, and I felt successful if I found something that just fit and didn't even hope to find clothes I really liked. Going out, I had to mentally assess every situation for what potential problems I might encounter-- were there only plastic lawn chairs to sit on at an outdoor cafe? Would I break or fit into whatever chairs there were? Could I fit into the airplane seat or movie theater seat? (I am pear-shaped with a big a**, so often I wouldn't fit at all comfortably.) Booths? Walking through a crowded room?

Every year I had to go to some volunteer training at the Minneapolis Institute of Arts, which has several long staircases. As the docents led our group through the museum on tours that would take us on several different floors, I would try to discretely approach the docent to let her know that I had bad knees and needed to use the elevator. It was always slightly humiliating, but the long stairs would leave me breathless and panting and my knees would hurt a lot. And while everyone else would take the little canvas gallery stools to sit on during the tour, I didn't bother, saying I "preferred to stand." (Yeah, right.)

I'm very glad to say that I have managed to turn things around for myself now, more than I ever thought I would. I have had slow weight loss of over 60 lbs, I worked with several physical therapists over the years and now I know what exercises to do to keep my knees and back strong, and I mostly have NO pain, which to me is a miracle! I started working out a lot, and I've jumped over several major physical hurdles--- I got a physical trainer, I started to run (never thought I'd be able to do it), I set myself a challenge of running a 5K and did that last summer. I face my demons all the time--- yes, before almost every run I have a little mental panic attack, just a small one, but my mind freaks out and starts on a mantra of "what if..." "What if I can't do it, what if it's too hard, what if..." I just have to push myself beyond it.

And so, I had many what ifs about exercise classes, too, that kept me from even trying. But now that I have a really open schedule and only one kid to get to school, i knew that I really didn't have any more excuses. And there are a lot of classes at the Y and I want more variety in my workouts. So today, deep breath, I went over mid-day to the Chisel Express class. Would it be too hard? Would I feel stupid for not knowing what was going on? What if I couldn't do what the teacher said? What if I was too fat for the exercises?

But there was another new person there and the teacher was nice and with all the exericse I've done, I did just fine. It was challenging but I kept up. And now I feel good, physically and mentally.

Another demon slayed. There will be more, but I think I can overpower them, eventually.

10 Years of Salads

Late in the afternoon on Thursday, I picked up my cloth bag and walked over to the Blue Moon Cafe, 3 blocks away, the drop off/pick up spot for our CSA. (For those who don't know, CSA stands for Community Supported Agriculture, and it involves people signing up with farms for weekly deliveries of produce. You pay up front for the season and get great veggies; it's a way to support farms and local agriculture.) It's a weekly ritual I look forward to... beginning in mid-May through the end of September. It's a little like getting a surprise package every week: we never know what we'll get in our bag, except that it will fall into the vegetable category.

Our CSA is Salad Days, a small organic farm in Milaca, Minnesota, farmed by two fabulous women, Nett and Tam. They focus on providing organic salad veggies, which is a bit different than a lot of CSAs, which provide big boxes of produce. I chose Salad Days because they advertised at the Blue Moon, which I frequent, they drop off at the Blue Moon, which is ultra convenient for me, and they were less expensive and more manageable than the other CSAs. I didn't want huge boxes of produce when I'm still working at convincing my whole family that veggies are essential and delicious, and I was intimidated by stories I'd heard of people getting 5 cabbages at a time. I just couldn't deal with that. Besides, the other CSAs really were almost twice as much as Salad Days.

What I didn't know then was that Nett and Tam offer another perk that other CSAs don't--- they don't just drop the salad bags at some location for other people to pick up when they can. They have 3 drop off spots, and they stay at each for a window of time, personally handing out the bags to customers (with a newsletter), and welcoming people to sit and chat if they have time. As I've gotten to know Nett and Tam over the years, I've taken advantage of this as often as I can--- they are fun and it's a good break in my day, some social time: they know me and I know them. And I get to hear first hand about the farm.

Much to my surprise, when I showed up on Thursday, my farmers were grinning at me and ponted to a gift bag sitting on the bench. It had a little note tacked to the bag, like a mini-award certificate, congratulating our family on 10 years of membership. Inside the bag was a gift of a beautiful wooden bowl that Tam had made from an ash tree that had to come down in their yard. She makes these beautiful wooden bowls in the winter, their off-season (Nett is an artist, too, making paintings). I was thrilled and touched!

But 10 years? Wow, it was so hard to believe. 10 years ago, I had two 8 year olds and a 3 year old (they remembered how we had to keep an eye on younger son when the kids came with for pick-up, to make sure he wouldn't run in the street). I was 34... and it was all I could do to scrape up the money for the CSA. But it was important so I made the investment. And I've never regretted it. I've learned so much from both of them, about food and organics and the interconnected web that makes stuff grow.

I'm so pleased about this wooden bowl, this badge of honor. It sits on my counter now, and I fill it with (what else) veggies! Here's to good food and good health!