You remember when I did 1,500 push-ups in June? Well, having that goal, writing it on the wall, committing to a partner was really helpful.
I wanted to work on a new challenge in July: pull-ups. Coach Phil (who will be moving over to CrossFit RTP in October—yay for him! wah for me!) convinced me that, as sexy as 1,500-whatevers-in-a-month sounds, it’s just not the best way to get results. He recommended volume training: specifically, up to five reps on the minute for twenty minutes, twice a week, alternating pull-ups and chin-ups.
I harassed a bunch of other people into doing “Pull-Up Club” with me and even started a Facebook page so we could track our progress together. And for the most part, it’s been really good.
Now I can’t do unassisted pull-ups, which means I have to tie gigantoid rubber bands to the pull-up bar and put one foot inside to support some (read: a lot) of my weight. When I started at CrossFit last year, I was using the black band, the hugest, thickest one. It’s so thick that I couldn’t even get into it myself. I’d have to have one of the coaches pull it down so I could shove my foot in the loop. The other day, my sister-wife and I tried the black band just for shits and giggles, and—no joke—I felt like I was in one of those Johnny Jump-ups you put babies in. I worried I might shoot through the roof.
So good, yeah, I’ve worked my way down the bands for the past year, and during this month went from green and skinny purple, to green, to blue and skinny purple, to (today) blue. I’m not even close to doing an unassisted pull-up, but I’ve made progress, and I’m going to continue with the volume training until I do. I guess.
All this to say, you know, I’m proud of myself for the work I’ve done, and I know shit doesn’t change overnight and the food craziness is what’s in the way, but I saw a photo of myself from the gym this morning, and it made me want to jump off a bridge. The other day, one of my friends mentioned my upper body—just a throw-away remark, but clearly contrasting it with my lower body—and I laughed, which is what I do, because it’s comical, really. There’s something very carnival fun house about the area from my waist to my knees.
But I just hate it. I hate my body.
And I know I should STFU because, unlike Aaron, I have one that works.
And I know this is when people tell me don’t say that, don’t think that, you’re beautiful, look what you’ve accomplished.
But I’m telling you, don’t do it. Don’t tell me that. There’s nothing you can say that will make me not hate my body today.
I have decided that what you see is not what we see…so while I completely understand what you are saying, and how you feel, I will say that when we say don’t say that cause you’re beautiful it is because we see what you can not. At least I hope so cause I feel the same way
It’s good to read this and see myself from another perspective. A few weeks ago I decided I wanted to get heavier. Really I wanted to get stronger. Well, really, really I wanted to lift heavier things but to do that I need to get stronger and I thought a shortcut to that was to get heavier. So I started drinking more whole milk and eating more calories.
The good news is that it worked. I’ve put on 4-6 pounds. The bad news is that I can’t emotionally handle being any fatter than I was a month ago. Every morning when I walk into the bathroom I check out my body. One of the things I like about crossfit is that it steadily made that morning ritual less painful. But not this last week. Even though I’m doing it on purpose I’m still not able to accept it when I look in a mirror.
Wish I had some wisdom to impart but right now its just sympathy. The first step is honesty and thanks to you I’m getting there.
Thank you, Lindsay and Jonathan, for being thoughtful and truthful and eloquent.
Bah. Even the greatest brain surgeon in the world can’t perform brain surgery on him or herself. There are somethings that you just have to let other people do for you – like scratch your back, perform brain surgery, and see you in a way that isn’t clouded by your own lifetime’s worth of baggage.
Hate your body all you want, but that don’t make it hateful; it just makes you a horrible judge of things you have to look in the mirror to perceive.
So what do you do when you realize you’re a horrible judge of what’s awesome about you? Rely on others, of course. It’s a trust exercise. Like when Stevie Wonder trusts that whomever laid out his clothes isn’t fucking with him…
Amy, I’ve scolded you for this post privately, so I won’t do it again here.
JJ, increased calorie consumption should be a means to an end, not an end in itself. ONLY if you’re on a very aggressive and specific strength program should you even consider a dirty bulk. And then, only when you’re having trouble recovering should you resort to milk & cookies.
Yes, getting bigger is one way to lift heavier things, but that growth should be driven by your program, not your diet and should show up mostly in your ass and legs, not your tum tum.
Dan. You. All up in my business with your wisdom. I still hate my body, but I’ll concede that there are others in the world (including you), granted they are few, that are not totally repulsed by it.
I appreciate your honestly with this post Amy. And I won’t blow sunshine. Albeit. Me think. We all have similar thoughts and feelings more often then we are willing to admit. :) Courtney E
I love that you are honest about it.
honesty.
spell check is not my strong suit.
i guarantee that almost all women feel the same way about their bodies. i have days where i’m okay with my body, but those days aren’t all that often. i used to hate my legs, i mean *really* hate my legs. they’re short, stocky, and no matter what i do i always seem to have some sort of cellulite. (i blame all three on my german ancestry .) when i was 21 years old a guy (my boyfriend) told me that when a girl stands with her feet together, her legs should have a space between the thighs, a space right below the knees, and a space in between the ankles. i was very thin when it told me that, and still no space between the thighs. after that lovely conversation, the hatred i had for my legs increased sevenfold. i still don’t care for my legs, but through crossfit and maturity i’ve learned to appreciate them. i try to think about how they benefit me instead of how much i’d like to change them. some days are better than others, but i’ve come a long way from where i used to be.
laura just shared this with me. you should read this. great article.
http://startingstrength.co?m/articles/training_perspe?ctive_gillian.pdf
snap. i just checked the link and it’s not working. go to my page and click on the link she left me under my last status update about dropping weight for the oly meet.
Ashley, I want to kick your ex-boyfriend in the teeth.
Yeah, I wonder who taught your boyfriend what girls’ legs “should” look like, Ashley.
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