Week 4 - what strong feels like
Today is the new moon, the transition into Aries season, and for somebody who will use any excuse as a reason to obsess about the moon, I wandered back through my journal to find what I had written for the last new moon. I love to look at how far I’ve come, and make intentions for the month that lies ahead.
I wrote one line last month, which would have been right around the time I started working out and taking my fitness seriously, where I said I wanted to move my body, to redefine what strong looks and feels like.
It’s been 4 weeks now. They say within 4 weeks you see it, that a habit has been established. It’s been 4 weeks of daily movement, doing everything from long walks to lifting weights to pilates class. And you can see it. I look stronger, I’ve gained muscle, the amount of weight I’m able to lift has gone up, the distance I’m able to walk has gotten longer.
But more important than that is what I’ve felt shift in me in this last month of moving my body with the intention of building strength.
My body knows what it’s doing. She is so wise, so resilient. I have the odd moment where being sore from a workout still reminds me of being sick, but for the most part my body is sore, and I notice it.
Hello body. You worked really hard. We can do hard things. I got you. We’ve got this
I have plans in place, should I begin to spiral into anxiety, and I’ve been using them less and less as I grow trust with my body more and more.
I’ve noticed that I’ve adopted a more playful attitude when it comes to fitness. I’m going to play around and try things, and if it sounds fun I’ll do it but if it doesn’t I’ll pass. I have friends who are serious athletes, who will train their bodies to the point of exhaustion and push themselves to do things that to me sound like misery. And it’s fun for them.
I have a discussion with my friend all the time who trains like this, and I come back to the point of I don’t need to train to prove to myself what my body is capable of. I know what she’s capable of. She’s a badass. I know what I survived, I know what I can do. I’m just here to have a good time
And here’s another thing - how I speak to and about myself has changed. It’s come from making an effort and being conscious about the words used, but also surrounding myself with people who speak about their bodies in ways that I want to speak about mine.
Good job body! You’re so amazing! Why am I so incredible? There’s literally nothing I can’t do. I’m so good at this.
I say it out loud, and often. And now it’s gotten to the point where I 100% believe it. My body is freaking amazing. There’s nothing I can’t do.
I’m here to have a good time. I’m alive, damn it, and I don’t know why or how some days but I am, and I’m sure as hell not going to sit around and take pills and bitch about the healthcare system and die. If you’re not having fun, what’s the freaking point?
It doesn’t mean I never push myself. If I didn’t, I never would have stepped foot in a gym in the first place. But it does mean I’m not going to lift heavy weights on a day when my body really wants a yoga class, or a long walk. It means I’m always checking in with my body, speaking kindly to myself, moving from a place of self love rather than trying to get something.
Strength has taken root in me, and it’s not about how much I can lift. It’s how much am I enjoying this life? How resilient am I? How embodied am I? How many chances am I taking, how much fun am I having, how am I changing how I speak to myself, how am I creating the conditions to thrive?
