This is becoming one of my favorite blogs. Its yet another example of the mindset that crossfitters tend to have. My mindset seems to be directly tied into my hip and hasn't been so great lately either. I am working to be grateful for my injury because this is my great struggle right now. Not cancer, addiction, job loss or a failed marriage or relationship (as has been the case with WAY too many of my friends lately....seriously. I'm starting to think I am bad luck...run away from me oh-partnered people). So in the effort to keep my head on straight and because the bad-ass Mel from theclothesmakethegirl.com did this I thought it might be a good idea for me too.
Five things you love about yourself: I am a fighter. I have fought for every damn thing I have. My education (that a learning disability and screwball attitude did not predict), my peaceful life, my relationships, my career... I don't give up. In fact, I'm a little like a terrier with a ball. I try to always do the right thing. Sometimes it sucks and makes me feel like a tool. It is difficult to blaze me and not get verbally knocked on your ass. I'm not impressed by material shit.
Five things your body can do. Even in the state my hip is in.... I can walk. I can see. I can work. I can hear. I can think with a clear head....which means I'm not an addict, I'm not crazy, and I make fair decisions.
Five things for which you’re grateful. That my devastating trouble right now is just my hip. I have the means to see the single best orthopedic surgeon specializing in hips in the United States. He fixed Alex Rodriguez's hip. I have plenty of good food to eat and options around food (many folks don't have the option to go paleo). My dogs. They make my life happier every day. My small blood family and my larger chosen family.
Five things that make you happy you’re alive. Jeans Spring flowers Loud music Coffee Sunshine
Five people (or pets) who you love. Hank Aaron, Buster Dogless, Walter Payton The boy Wonder Mom and Dad Staci and Jenny Al and Ari The Pats
Some of these came very easy. The things I love about myself was difficult. So was the 'things my body can do.' It was difficult to NOT write: pullups, pushups, run 5 miles, etc. But when I look at the things that are left...really these are the most important.
Its no secret that I have a close relationship with a wonderful mother. I could write several books about the strength and beauty that she brought to both my childhood and to my every day now. But when my dear friend, Chuck (who I consider a brother not of biology but of chance and blessing) asked for touching mom stories the wheels began to turn in my noggin. Chuck is a fitness trainer and gym owner. Really, he is so much more than this, but this description will have to suffice for now as this is a story for him rather than about him. Because he of his occupation, because of our history together, and because his call was directed in large part to the members of his gym, I began to think of my own mom and how she shaped my healthy lifestyle.
Food is a big part of any home. It is a huge part of economically fragile families. When ends are low and there isn't a lot to share, food becomes a way to show love. My extended family, dysfunctional as it is, shows love with food. While I was (and still am) estranged from my extended family, I did maintain a relationship with my mom's paternal grandparents. At their home, pie was cut in quarters and cookies given by the stack. They lived in a triple (a triplex) in a neighborhood in Columbus that makes people's eyebrows raise when mentioned and is on the news daily for shootings. But these folks gave endlessly and selflessly. From them, my mom learned a love of food and so did I.
Times were not always easy financially in my family. We lived for a time in a camp trailer, and then a mobile home, and finally a large and lovely house in a 'good school district.' This was an investment my folks made for our future and they barely had money for furniture. As lovely as my mom made it look, I imagine that my friends would be surprised to know that it was all second hand. There wasn't much money for much besides necessities in my house. My parents bought used cars, fixed them at home, and drove them until the wheels fell off. They bought me a new outfit or two for school (new clothes were years apart for my parents). I babysat and had 2 jobs through high school so from 7th grade on, I bought most of my own clothes. I paid my own way when I went out with friends. Things were tight, but we were all working to get ahead. My dad made me pay the bills for him when I was in high school so that I'd know just how far money didn't stretch.
But one place where we splurged was food.
I was not raised with a mom who was constantly dieting. Obviously none of us ever wanted to be overweight. However, a Beyonce' body was much more desirable than an emaciated model body in my home. My mom, however, was always concerned with how healthy her family was. She kept a careful eye on what current theory was. Despite the extra cost, we ate low fat everything we could get our hands on, we only drank diet pop, wheat bread instead of white, not much red meat, turkey bacon instead of pork, juice available by the gallon (real juice not Sunny Delight). Before bottled water, she insisted we all drank water...and lots of it. She insisted on a hot breakfast every morning and for years I had to choke down oatmeal (not instant) with fruit and nuts before going to school. She insisted on fruits and vegetables. I remember one of the worst whippings I ever got being over my refusal to eat asparagus casserole. I literally ran away from it and hid behind the couch. Clearly I lost my damn mind. I got the wooden spoon over that one (oh get over it 'time out' parents.... I come from junkies and criminals and I grew up to be a doctor...clearly she got something right). There were discussions in my house about how unhealthy we would be if we ate like my extended family (cake for breakfast and no veggies at dinner).
My mom also taught me to share. She stood at the counter each night cutting me up carrots, filling my water bottle, and making me lean turkey sandwiches for lunch. Knowing one of my friends didn't have a mom who would do this...she packed HUGE lunches telling me, “now if you want to share with so-and-so you can.” She taught me about pride as well. She could have (and would have) packed two lunches. But that makes things obvious, doesn't it? Sharing, on the other hand, is just...sharing.
As I got older, I took responsibility for my own health. I became a vegetarian for many years and she supported this. I was an on and off gym rat, power walker, and eventually runner. My mom power walked with me, took interest in my running and at almost 60 goes to yoga with me every week. Later, when I began crossfit and went paleo she listened and learned and cut most refined sugar, many potatoes and much (not all) bread. She comments on my muscles and has encouraged me endlessly through this recent devastating hip injury. Now, I fix her paleo recipes and she calls me to find out how I make roasted asparagus. She has cut out all the 'low fat' foods and eats avocado with abandon. A friend recently moved a piece of furniture with her and told me, “now I know who you get your muscles from, Roo.”
Like my mom, I still show love with food. Its common for me to meet you at an event with paleo muffins, or some other treat. I have people over for dinner regularly . Nothing is fancy but there is plenty and your welcome to any of it. I may send you home with leftovers. Its old school, but its me. And I learned it from her. Just like I learned to eat asparagus. And I can do it these days without the wooden spoon....
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