Redefining Some Things

One of my best friends has been dealing with an obscure form of cancer for over 10 years now. She and I have had many conversations about it, and recently she sent me an interesting article about the Linguistics of Cancer. That article got me thinking about a lot of things in my own life, and I've come to some significant conclusions.

Most of my life, my body description has ranged from "chubby" to "significantly overweight." There have been only a few brief periods of "only a little chubby." NEVER, EVER have I described myself as having a "normal" body size.

Much of my time and energy is spent focusing on what I need to change--how my stomach is too squishy, my arms too flabby, my thighs too jiggly, how I ate too much for dinner, had a second bite of cupcake when I shouldn't have, didn't get up to exercise, wish that I had gone for a walk last night (despite the heat, humidity, and swarms of mosquitoes). I make excuse after excuse, and then mentally berate myself for not being stronger, for falling short in so many physical areas. When I step on the scale, instead of rejoicing over the 2 lbs lost since last week, I only see the 50 more lbs I want to lose, and silently slap myself thinking, "if I hadn't had ANY cookies this week, and had stayed away from the bacon all together, maybe I would have lost THREE lbs instead of just TWO."

Seriously, people. What the hell is wrong with me?!?!

I am CHUBBY. It's true. That is a word that can be used to honestly describe my body.

But you know what else I am?

I am: a good friend, loyal, patient, funny, adventurous, loving, a seeker of knowledge, a leader, a teacher, strong, faithful, a baker of delicious chocolate-chip cookies, a traveler, a researcher. I am a daughter, an aunt, a sister, a friend. I love to laugh, loud and often. I enjoy helping people, whether that be providing a meal, donating money to a cause, buying a gift, meeting a friend for lunch, lending a listening ear or a shoulder to cry on. I live life to the fullest, always looking for ways to learn, grow, and improve myself. I enjoy photography, cooking, reading, and planning trips to see the world. I chat with friends, old and new, over the phone, over dinner, over pedicures. I am thinking about going back to school, my job, my future career. I research and explore options fully before making decisions. I am strong-willed, stubborn, a fiercely loyal friend, a champion of those I care about. I am smart, enjoy being intellectually challenged, like lifting weights, love my CrossFit family. I also like to try new foods, cook, bake sweets, and generally enjoy life.

And yes, I am CHUBBY.

But why in the world am I letting ONE SMALL characteristic of myself overshadow the MANY, MANY other things that make me who I am???

Let me tell you something. My nieces and nephews, whom I love more than anything else in this world...well, they don't seem to care whether I'm chubby or not. They didn't love me any more when I was less chubby, and they sure don't love me any less now that my waistline has expanded. To them, I am simply Aunt Anela, a favorite.

My friends haven't stopped hanging out with me just because my pants size is larger than it used to be.

No one at works seems to think me any less capable of teaching now that my chin has a chin of its own. Parents haven't complained about their child's CHUBBY teacher. My performance reviews have all been excellent, despite the weight I have gained.

The summer camp that I'm working for had no problems hiring my CHUBBY self. They haven't seemed to mind my jiggly arms, or the cellulite on my legs. My CHUBBINESS has in no way impacted my ability to be a confident Camp Director, a coach to my staff, a liaison to Rice University, and a face that parents trust to take care of their children.

My dear friend and I have talked a lot about her cancer, how it's something she has and deals with, but it's also not her defining characteristic, and she refuses to let it take over who she is as a person.

I am here to do the same with my own struggle, being CHUBBY. Yes, I am CHUBBY. It's true. I deal with it the best I can, always fighting to be healthy and work to overcome this obstacle in my life.

But I am SO MUCH MORE than just CHUBBY. That is such a tiny part of what makes me uniquely Anela.

Another good friend of mine introduced me to the WYCWYC movement--doing What You Can, When You Can.

I LOVE IT!  WYCWYC!

Right now, I am working crazy, long, intense hours at a summer camp. I am living at Rice University during the week and eating in their cafeteria. My time is not really my own. I am running a camp with 72 kids a week and 12 staff members under me. Frankly, life is not about ME right now, it's about my job. So, while I can certainly make healthier choices in the cafeteria, I am limited as to the foods I have access to, and the time I have to workout. My focus for the next few weeks, until camp is over, is on doing my job well, NOT on worrying about my CHUBBINESS.

And you know what? That's okay.

There will be times when I am more able to focus on fighting the CHUBS, and there will be other times when something else will take center stage for me. And I need to be okay with that.

I don't want to focus all of my time and energy and effort on eliminating the CHUBS at the EXPENSE of all those other characteristics that define me!

I am Anela. And I am SO MUCH MORE than just CHUBBY.

In the Eye of the Beholder

So, I've pretty much felt uncomfortable in my own skin for as long as I can remember. I have always been tall. I mean, freakishly tall. And I grew early. I can remember my parents taking me to the doctor because they were worried that something was wrong with me. My first military ID card (issued when I was 10 years old) said I was 5'8. In fifth grade, I was taller than everyone in the school, including all the teachers, except for one sixth grade boy--Joey Wall. I was 6' by the time I was in eighth grade, and grew another inch sometime after that.

On top of that, I was painfully shy. It mortified me to have people stare at me, point, whisper (folks, I'm tall, not deaf), call me the "Jolly Green Giant," and ask, "How's the weather up there?" To have complete strangers come up to me in stores and ask, in awed tones, "Just how tall ARE you???"

As if I were a freak.

As if I AM a freak.

Present tense.

It still happens.

I still get the stares, the whispers. The weirdos in stores who ask me how tall I am.

So, yeah. To say I'm uncomfortable in my own body would be an understatement. And, as if that's not enough, I am one of the few who was born tall and NOT SKINNY. No super modeling for me. No, I think the part-Hawaiian in me really comes out in my body type. I'm solid. I easily put on muscle. If I were a guy, I'd have been a great defensive lineman. Somehow, that body type, my body type, is not admired so much on a woman.

In other words, I've spent all of my life feeling uncomfortable and ashamed of my body, painfully aware of how different I am from what a woman is supposed to be--small. Delicate. Skinny. Sexy.

Consequently, I've spent most of my life searching for the CURE, the way to make myself all of those things that I'm not. Thin. Lithe. Beautiful. Constantly berating myself for not being smaller, faster, lighter.

Always comparing my shortcomings to everyone else.  Her thighs jiggle less than mine. She has smaller arms than I do. Look at how fast she can run. Her butt has more lift. She doesn't get winded as easily as I do.

However, over the past year and a half, I've started to see things differently. My CrossFit journey has helped me to appreciate being STRONG and FIT more than being SKINNY. I am working hard to love and appreciate my body for what it IS, and to stop lamenting what it is NOT.

But it's not easy.

I've got 36 years of media-indoctrination constantly screaming at me, telling me what a woman SHOULD look like, reminding me that I am nothing but a FREAK who is too big to ever have a place on their beauty scale.

Now, I wish I could say that I've had an epiphany and have come to perfectly love and accept my body.

Ha.

But I have had a few breakthroughs.

Last week at CrossFit we were doing strict press and I got a 1 rep PR of 100#.  I was PUMPED!

Then, as I glanced around the room, it occurred to me that I have spent my whole life looking at things from only one angle. I'v been comparing myself to others, lamenting how, no matter how hard I train, I will NEVER be able to run an 8 minute mile (seriously, though, my body just isn't built like that), or be able to do body-weight movements with lightning speed, like some.

And then I realized it.

There are some girls who will NEVER be able to lift 100# over their head in strict press! Because their bodies just aren't built for it.

Wait, WHAT?

You mean, this large-barge body of mine could actually be...a...gasp...ADVANTAGE for some things?!?

Mind...blown!

Here I had been comparing myself to others, when they very well could be comparing themselves to me!

That's when I had my BGO (brilliant glimpse of the obvious). Sometimes, being bigger and taller IS an advantage.

I can lift weights. Heavy weights. I can throw a wall ball without really wondering if it will reach high enough to hit the mark--of course it will. The mark is only a little above where my hands can stretch to on the wall. I can row 500m in under 2 minutes. Not Olympic worthy, but not too shabby.

Now, one BGO compared to 36 years of media indoctrination means that I am FAR from conquering this issue. Everyday it is a struggle to accept and love my body for what it IS, and stop wishing for what it is NOT.

But I am determined to keep fighting.

Fighting to drown out the media. Fighting to let go of unrealistic expectations. Fighting to embrace what IS.

Fighting to be comfortable in my own skin.

One day at a time...

If The Sock Fits...

So, today marks a first for me. In a year and a half of going to CrossFit, this is the first time I have ever attended workouts THREE DAYS IN A ROW!!!

Wahoo!

I usually space my CrossFit workouts throughout the week, generally going Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. A few weeks ago, I decided that I wanted to supplement my workouts and get back into running on non-CrossFit days. I've been having a lot of issues with my left knee and foot, so I wanted to slowly ease back into things. Day after day I would tell myself tomorrow, you're going to get up at 5 am and start walking/jogging. And...day after day, I came up with an excuse not to go.

Ugh.  I can be my own worst enemy sometimes!

So, I was talking to Coach Pete about it, and he recommended that I go unlimited a our CrossFit box--meaning up my membership so I can attend as many classes as I want to each week (I was just going three times/week). At first I was hesitant. In addition to being more money, I just wasn't sure that my body was ready to handle more CrossFit classes!

But Pete had a good point. He said that by working out more at CrossFit, not only would I have a coach who could help me and push me when necessary, but I would have the support of the whole CF community behind me.

I thought about it and decided that Pete was right. So I took the plunge and upgraded my membership.

Today is only Wednesday, and I've already gone to CrossFit THREE TIMES this week!!!

Monday and today were traditional CrossFit WODS, and yesterday I went to the Olympic Lifting Class (Oly Lifting), so I can start working more on my form.

And...guess what.

I plan to go to Oly Lifting again tomorrow, and finish out my week with another traditional CrossFit WOD on Friday.

Eeeeee!

Now, here is the crazy part. I'm doing the Winter Nutrition Challenge, so I'm eating super clean and fueling my body with all the great nutrients that it needs to build muscle and burn fat.  I know this might sound dramatic, but I swear to you, I can actually FEEL MYSELF GETTING STRONGER!

Everyday.

I think I'll wear my BEAST MODE socks tomorrow, because, well, if the sock fits...

Challenge...Accepted

A few weeks ago at CrossFit they started advertising the Winter Nutrition Challenge. Now, I've done CrossFit nutrition challenges before and they are HARD! Seriously! You can actually eat a ton of food, but that food is mostly veggies, a little fruit, some lean meat, and a tiny bit of fat (avocado, coconut oil or almonds). NO sugar, NO carbs, NO legumes, NO sugar, NO dairy, and did I mention, NO sugar???

Anyhow, at first I was thinking NO WAY was I going to PAY someone else to torture me like that.

But it kept coming back to me that I needed to do this challenge. To show my support and solidarity for my CrossFit peeps, to reset my own eating (which has been a STRUGGLE for the past few months), and to prove...well...that I can step up to a Challenge.

So, here I am.

Day 1.

I spent time over the weekend prepping and planning for this. I have 5 salads prepped, ground turkey, chicken, and frozen steam-able bags of broccoli and green beans. I've got Brussell's Sprouts, onions and sweet potatoes ready to roast tonight, and I plan to stop by HEB tonight or tomorrow and grab some shrimp to cook up. I have planned carefully for this week, and after allowing myself one last hurrah of eating this weekend (hellooooo---Super Bowl Party), I am ready for this.

I'm sure I'll be whining and crying about how hard it is in a few days. Detox is a b!tch! Especially for a sugar-addict like me. But it's time to push my body to the next level.

Challenge...accepted!

How Not To Be An Ostrich

About a month ago I finally decided that I needed help (my brothers have been saying this for years, I know). I wanted to get rid of those pesky Extra Pounds (EPs) that I had picked up over the summer. However, despite my best efforts to cook at home and exercise regularly at CrossFit, the stubborn EPs just weren't getting the hint. So, I decided I needed some professional help, and started working with Stephanie, one of my awesome CrossFit Coaches who is also a Nutrition Coach with Strength of Body and Mind. 

When we first met, mid-September, Steph took my weight and measurements and determined the Macros that she wanted me to follow. Each day, I'm supposed to eat exactly the same number of calories consisting of a specific number of grams of Fats, Protein and Carbohydrates.  She encouraged me to use My Fitness Pal to track these things, an app I promptly installed on my phone and iPad.  

Honestly, those first two weeks I was really swamped and didn't take the time to try and figure out how to use My Fitness Pal, or really, how to follow the Macros she had assigned me. And, shockingly (sarcasm), the scale showed no signs of moving. Finally, enough was enough. I sat down, Googled "Macros," started watching YouTube videos, visiting different blogs and websites, and finally started to wrap my mind around what this whole "Macros" thing was all about.  

Here's where things got interesting.

It turns out, that all those healthy meals I had been preparing at home had calories. Lots of calories. They weren't all bad calories. But my Jennie O 93% Lean Ground turkey (6 oz) was 255 calories. Put that together with some chopped black olives (3 TB), black beans (1/2 C), spinach (2 C), cucumber (1 C), tomato (1 Roma), bell pepper (1), egg whites (1 C), feta cheese (1 oz), and vinegar (2 TB) and olive oil (1 TB) and you have a super healthy lunch.  But add those things together and we are talking an 821 calorie salad! 

WHOA!

That's a LOT of calories!!!

The protein shake that I drink with my breakfast (not as a meal replacement), is 230 calories.  Plus my egg whites, oatmeal, sliced almonds, and fruit.  

YIKES!  

I quickly realized that while Steph had given me what seemed like a LOT of calories in my allotted daily Macros, those calories spent themselves mighty quickly, even when I was preparing healthy, nutritious foods.

It occurred to me that I had been living my life like an ostrich--with my head buried in the sand.  I knew that I was eating healthy foods, for the most part, so I didn't really pay attention to portions, and when I had a treat, I just figured that my healthy eating was balancing it out.  

WRONG.

Even healthy foods have calories.  Often, more than you think (protein).  

Initially, I think I suspected that things were not adding up, as I wasn't losing those pesky Extra Pounds that I wanted to get rid of. But for a while, I just didn't want to face the music. Somehow I thought it was better just not knowing the details.  

I don't know why I'm afraid of the details sometimes. Why I fear the very answers that I am looking for. I think it's part of human nature, or at least part of Anela nature, to want to ignore things, because facing the facts means changing our behaviors, and sometimes, I'm just lazy. Tired. Busy. Full of excuses. Sometimes, I just don't want to change.  

But here's the thing.  My mom used to post inspirational quotes on our back door when I was a teenager.  She probably thought we never paid attention, but I remember them.  All of them.  One of them said this: 

If you always do what you've always done, then you'll always get what you've always gotten.

Bam!

If I continued to hide, afraid to find out what I was really eating, then I would keep gaining weight, and continue to be frustrated and unhappy with myself.  

So, I decided to SUCK IT UP, BUTTERCUP (my new motto, by the way), and finally start recording every single thing that I ate (using My Fitness Pal).  

I haven't been perfect at keeping track of things, but I've done a thousand percent better these past few weeks than I did those first two.  

And I've discovered a little secret.  

You can plug your food in a day or two AHEAD OF TIME and play around with different options until you find what is going to best fit your Macros (and your tastes, for that matter).

GAME CHANGER!!!

I'm kind of obsessive about it now, actually.  I'm secretly a data nerd (in addition to being nerdy about all kinds of other things), and have found that I LOVE plugging in my food and trying to get as close to my Macros as possible without going over my numbers. Also, I now meticulously check food labels to try and get as much bang as possible for my calorie "buck."  I looked at at least a dozen different brands of Greek Yogurt before I settled on the HEB brand 100 calorie cups, because they have 0 Fat, 10 Carbs and 13 Protein (you'd be surprised at how much the Fat, Carbs and Protein varied for different brands). Since I have a hard time fulfilling my daily Protein Macros, I try to find things that are high in Protein and have little or no Fat and Carbs, like HEB Greek Yogurt and egg whites.  

Oh man.  Egg whites are my new best friend.  I eat them in oatmeal, salads, veggie stir frys, and sometimes just by themselves with a little salsa on top. Mmmmmm. Yummy. So much Protein, NO Fat, and a tiny amount of Carbs. If I could buy stock in egg whites, I would.  

Anyhow, I feel empowered now, knowing exactly what I am eating and where all of my calories come from. And honestly, it does make it easier for me to resist temptations. I can better plan for things like going out to dinner with friends. I make better choices (got the Turkey Burger the other night at Carl's Junior because it had 490 calories compared to the 880 calories in the Guacamole Bacon Burger that I really wanted to get). I can have that Fun sized packet of M&Ms, as long as I plan for it and reserve 3 grams of Fat and 10 grams of Carbs in my daily Macros.  

Now that my head isn't buried in the sand anymore, I've seen some other things as well. Like the numbers on the scale, finally starting to go down.

:-)

Counting the Costs

I have had a lot of leisure time this summer to reflect on my life--what's going well, and what needs to be re-shaped. It's been a great summer, filled with thousands of miles on the road, visits to family and friends, cruising with Disney to the Bahamas, and, much to my chagrin, picking up some unwanted stowaways--several Extra Pounds (EPs) that seem to have attached themselves to my stomach, butt and thighs.

Really, what did I expect. 

I went from a spring of working out at CrossFit 3 times/week and cooking mostly at home (a diet rich in veggies and lean meat, fruit and nuts, with only an occasional indulgence of M&Ms or ice cream), to eating out every day on the road and not exercising at all.

Sometimes, I'm a bit delusional.  

I get the idea in my silly little head that one of these days, magically, my body and metabolism are going to POOF! shift and I'm going to suddenly be able to eat whatever I want without gaining any weight or losing any muscle.

Ha.

In my dreams.

I am not Rich Froning.  

I need to face the facts.  

I will ALWAYS, EVERY SINGLE DAY have to monitor each morsel of food that passes through my lips.    

That is never, EVER going to change.

Pardon me while I sit here and pout a little bit. Shake my fist at the sky and ask, "Why, God?  Why will it always have to be so hard for me?" Cry over the M&Ms that I love so much. Mourn for all the Sonic Milkshakes that I will not get to consume. Throw myself on the floor in a tantrum over the Gummy Bears and Cinnamon cake at Sprouts that I will have to ignore every time I go shopping.

It sucks.

Let me just take a moment to own the fact that it really, really sucks.  

A lot.

I love food. I don't just eat to live. I live to eat. Food has always brought me immense joy. It's a huge part of my identity, of who I am.  

But...there is a cost for my indulgence.  

Eating whatever I want, whenever I want, will result in a body that I am not willing to live with. Already, these EPs that I've picked up over the past two months are costing me way too much--clothes that don't fit comfortably, slower WOD times, more pressure on my joints, and, most upsetting, the erosion of my self-confidence.  

As much as I love food, it's time for me to face the music: I CANNOT afford these EPs.  In any way.

Financially--I don't have the money to run out and buy a whole new wardrobe because my clothes are too small.

Physically--I can seriously FEEL how much more my body is having to work to carry around these extra EPs. My CF times are slower. Everything is harder. My joints hurt more. No bueno.

Emotionally--I hate how carrying these EPs around is making me less sure of myself.  I am more shy, and less inclined to be social. All because I don't like the way that I look.  

Mentally--Carrying around these EPs makes me dread working out, because I know it's going to be challenging. Which, along with my eroded self-confidence, means I'm not pushing myself as hard when I do exercise. 

So...it's time to pay the Piper. I had my fun. A summer of indulging, of not thinking about what I was eating.

The cost now is that I have to be super conscious of every single bite of food that goes in my mouth. No more "moderation." Nope, the price of my indulgence is that I have to be super strict about my diet, and exercise more than ever in order to lose these pesky EPs.  

I will do it.

I have to.

But the cost...

Next time I see a bag of M&Ms, or drive by Sonic, I need to remember that right now, these treats are out of my caloric price range, and that the cost, the EPs, simply aren't worth it.  

CrossFit Prayer

CrossFit Prayer

By Anela Wenger

Now I lay me down to CrossFit,

I pray the Lord I just won’t quit.

If I should fail to get a PR,

I pray at least to lift the bar,

And thrust and jerk and clean and press,

And kettle bell swing ‘til I’m a mess. 

Then jump up on a 20” box,

Show off my knee-high Rx socks.

And do a snatch or two at least,

Hear my coach yell “you’re a BEAST!”

Now 80 wall balls, squats, pull-ups,

Clock is ticking—time’s almost up.

Let’s do a TABATA, some double-unders,

Who made this workout—Satan? I wonder.

I think it just can’t get any more “fun,”

Then Coach says, “rest” on a half-mile run.

My legs are Jell-O, my arms are on fire,

Could the step onto the curb be any higher?

My body wants to take a nap,

But I just want to finish this AMRAP!

At last, there’s a beep; it’s over now,

I’m still alive—but not sure how.

Collapsed onto a stinky mat,

I leave some sweat marks where I sat.

Now, awful as that hour was,

My brain gets warped and full of fuzz.

For with the “good nights” and “later, bro,”

I suddenly shout out, “See you tomorrow!”

Now I lay me down to WOD,

And pray it doesn’t kill my bod.

If I should die before I wake,

That’s one less rep I’ll have to make.