The pandemic crushed me. Gyms closed. The world stopped. It was my time. My time to get back to fitness, to get healthy, to stop dedicating every waking minute of my life to helping others.
But I didn't.
I spent almost every single day answering emails and questions about when we would open. I talked to the owner off the ledge. I worked around billing, supported members, wrote workouts and rearranged a gym when I shouldn't have been lifting a thing.
Wait, what? What do I mean by getting back to fitness?
A few years ago I got hurt in a race. Pretty bad. My back and shoulders took the worst of it. I wondered for a while if I would be able to walk normally every again. I kept that fear to myself. I wondered for a few months if I would end up in a wheelchair. Again, keeping that to myself but people could see it. I started rapidly gaining weight. My daily cardio disappeared in exchange for extra sleep. Then the worst of the depression set in. She was gone.
The girl I worked 10 years to get. The girl with endless energy and ambition and GOALS. The girl who was goals. Clothes don't fit. Workouts don't exist. I don't recognize myself and I'm still in pain 50% of the day. Sometimes it is impossible to walk 50ft. If I am having a good day I can walk a mile. So 60ish pounds heavier, older and broken. That's where I was and still am.
September rolls through after spending 6 months in quarantine. 6 months I should have spent focused on me.Mind you I can't workout but spent 6 hours one day moving commercial gym equipment for FREE. Yes UNPAID. I was told "unemployment was taking care of me" The progress with my back I had made was now gone. I was right where I had been months previously. Could barely move. The pain debilitating.
Anyway, We get the ok to reopen. It was a struggle. People were scared, cancellations were heavy and I was angry. So angry. People were being absolutely horrid. Yelling about the mask, the policies, the cleaning and then BAM. The owner tells me he is selling to corporate. I panicked. My whole life would be gone. 9 years of my blood , sweat and tears just gone...Yet ,I was told they want to keep me and a little ray of glistening hope came through. Negotiations quickly went south with the ending number still a significant pay cut so I didn't accept. I could make more money delivering pizza.
So here I am. Jobless. Overweight. Out of Shape. Sad and Angry.
I gave my life to that company. My whole life. I missed band concerts, award ceremonies, birthdays, speaking engagements. I worked more than I was paid. I put MY goals on the back burner to help everyone around me. I went to work sick, I fell on ice and said I was fine, I missed rides and I took SO MUCH SHIT from people. Let's recap:
"Aren't you embarrassed to be seen in spandex" Erica D ( I was a size 5)
"I would never want to look like you. You have too much muscle" Leslie ( 19.4% body fat)
"You look so swollen all the time, are you gaining wieght" Marcie (I hadn't slept in months due to my daughter running away)
"Man, everytime I see you, you have food" Rich H (I was eating an apple at 1pm because I hadn't ate all day)
"Are you sure your back pain isn't emotional?" Local Chiropractor (I had literally just been ran over by another racer on a steep single track decent)
The list goes on...and on.
And now here we are. Daily getting requests for diet help, cycling help, workout help. All of them expecting it for free and Im right back to fat girl mentality. What is that?
Fat Girl Mentality is when you agree to do everything and help everyone because you are so goddamn scared someone is going to talk shit about you behind your back. You are a mega people pleaser. A yes Man. A fucking pussy.
So its time to start fresh. To try to find that badass at 42. To let go of allll the bullshit and I need a place to vent. This is my place. I don't need anyone to "get it" I just need to write it out and let it go.
I have a plan. I hope it works.
PS:If you continually use people in any capacity then FUCK YOU. We have all had enough of it.
