I used to be a NPC/IFBB Fitness
Competitor, that is to say, I used to do really mean things to my
body all for the sake of getting a panel of judges to think that I
was more fit than the girl standing next to me. I have run miles on
a torn hamstring, performed one-armed push-ups on a torn rotator
cuff, denied myself water for days, carbs for weeks, taken diuretics
prescribed to someone else and number of other supplements, enhancers
and of course pain killers just to get though it all. I have gotten
up before dawn, and stayed up passed midnight just to train. I once
even had to pass through a sobriety check point on the way home from
the gym after a late training session; it must have been time for the
bars to close, the only bars I had seen that night had weights on
them and started at 45lbs. I have dieted to the point of loosing my
menstrual cycle (imagine my surprise when I found myself pregnant
during one such phase!) and then during the off season I bulked up,
just to diet down again.
I stopped competing, for obvious
reasons, when I was pregnant with my daughter and then for other
reasons after she was born. I have not “worked out” or “dieted”
in five years. I still eat pretty clean but I don't beat myself up
over ice cream. I practice yoga regularly and I run when I feel like
it, which isn't very often, I go on long bike rides with my husband
and short ones by myself. I don't think I can do a one-arm push up
anymore but I can do side crow. All and all I would say that I am
healthier now then I ever was as a spokes person for exercise and
nutrition.
So why can't I get over the guilt?
I hurt my foot showing off in a yoga
class about six or eight weeks ago. Feet and toe injuries are kinda
like rib injuries, you can't do anything for them but wait it out,
and as I discussed in an earlier post, patience is no friend of mine.
So the healing process is taking longer than it should. It feels
fine most of the time, but if I practice yoga it throbs for days,
running is out of the question and when I wore heels to a dress fancy
event the other day I almost died for fashion. And so, I have been
taking a needed/deserved break from anything that involves standing.
It's been two days... and I have enough guilt to start my own
religion.
Why do we do this to ourselves? Why do
we not take the care we deserve, the help we need, the rest we
require? To whose standard am I trying to live up to? There is no
panel of judges in my life. No point system, no list of required
skills I must perform in order to prove myself worthy. Julia Roberts
in the film adaptation of Liz Gilbert's book Eat, Pray, Love
said that she was thru with the guilt and she was just going to buy a
bigger pair of jeans! And as soon as my foot feels up to a walk
through the mall I just might have to do that! In the mean time, I
will have to make like a L’Oreal commercial and affirm that “I'm
worth it”.