I am all up in the exercise scene lately. Just click here, here, or here. Seriously, my relationship with kettlebells is deep and ever-evolving. But there’s something else that exists with this new lifestyle I’m living. Truthfully, it’s a longtime struggle. And it’s one of those situations where knowledge isn’t enough. This evolution isn’t solely physical. It’s mental, emotional, and in the spirit of being transparent, somewhat spiritual.
Food has been my downfall. What I eat, how I eat, and when I eat is something I’ve battled with and lost on numerous occasions. Why? Short term mindset. I was using food as an excuse or motivator for how I look. Rarely, if ever, did I link food to how I feel.
I’ve definitely done my fair share of fad diets and programs. Some worked while others failed. But all of these attempts, albeit successful or not, were tied to extreme efforts. Nothing was sustainable. And in my ten plus years of trying to get myself healthy, I’ve never thought about the long term function of food.
Enter FitFabMoms. In the spirit of fika, I was gifted some quality conversation before a meal plan was presented. It started with a food diary but it soon became a confessional of sorts. And while I was bearing my soul, my trainer and dietician were listening and creating something special. My meal plan is a result of an evolutionary exchange. There’s a focus on fulfillment while reiterating feelings.
Am I happy? When was I hungry? Did the snack satisfy me? These simple questions guide me through workouts, daily duties, professional commitments, and personal obligations or outings. This mindset gets me far from the trap of timing. I’m no longer trying to lose ten pounds in a week while starving myself. Instead, I’m fiercely focused on talking about and responding to what I need to feel good.
I don’t have all the answers about food. But what I’m learning and loving is that the conversation begins with a question. I’m consuming comfort and gaining confidence. This happiness is the most delicious thing I’ve tasted in a long time.
“Most people want to be circled by safety, not by the unexpected. The unexpected can take you out. But the unexpected can also take you over and change your life. Put a heart in your body where a stone used to be.” ―
Allow me to be vague but vehement about faith. Today I stumbled upon a situation where I felt compelled to be vulnerable. It’s always in these moments where I feel most exposed but excited. Because when my faith is on the table and I believe in something or someone, I’m awakened. Be warned because I’m about to ramble.
It feels like it’s not popular to talk about God these days. In fact, someone reading this right now might already think differently or dismissively because of the topic. In a world where everything and everyone self-promotes and is overexposed, religion feels like the exception.
I’m no expert on the subject. I curse, gossip, and sin. The cursing is especially problematic during a workout. I love a good expletive mid-plank. I’m keeping it real and owning every f-bomb. And I don’t know what the ideal version of a believer looks like, but I embrace imperfection and explore the cracks and crevices of the tough talks within faith. Even in a faith community, there are differences and dialogues that get uncomfortable. In my humble opinion, a good faith-based community allows for this with one single rule in place, respect.
Today I melted down at church. I legitimately couldn’t stop crying in large part to a faith-related topic that consumed me. I’m overly emotional so I don’t think the average person would be reduced to tears. But I faced an urge to gut check beliefs and decisions directly related to faith. It’s weird how the unexpected sweeps in and changes everything.
Here’s the thought that had me rushing to the car for Kleenex. Maybe it’s not popular to talk about God because many of us, especially believers, forget to include Him in the conversation.
The above was unexpected. Sometimes I’m surprised by the volume of thinking and feeling that’s done in a day. The revelations are endless. Okay, I’m done rambling. Off to watch some questionable television and see what kind of moral conflict I can overthink and channel into some short stories.