Fitness Ridge in pictures

The pictures really do tell the story.
I did things I didn't know my body could do.
I'm stronger than I realized.
I feel amazing.

 

And I love it.

Fearing "I Can" (Part 2)

I had no idea that was why I felt compelled to return to Fitness Ridge...
so that I could face that fact that I really was afraid of all the things I was actually capable of doing.
All the good that was ahead for me.
And the timing of the experience was made all the more powerful because of the good that had already presented itself just a couple of weeks prior to going (more to come).

What on earth would my life look like when I really lost all the weight I had wanted to shed?
What would my life feel like when I was really given all the things I've been praying for?
Who would I really be then?
And, more importantly, what more would He expect of me?
Was I up for it?
Was I really willing to adjust? Make room? Change?

The answer came on Thursday when it was time to revisit the infamous "stop sign" hike (read that post for hike description).

The beauty of the hike is that you are alone with your thoughts.
You set your own pace.
You decide how hard to push yourself.

And on Thursday, I decided to push myself hard.

I thought about all that had led me to that place and all that I had done in the previous 18 months.
I realized that I had been so caught up in my original "goal date" and so wrapped in the shame of not hitting it, that I had never really celebrated all that I had accomplished.
I felt sad about that.
I never once stopped. Not a single time. That was my rule.
I wasn't allowed to stop and I had to go as fast as I could.

As I was approaching the last stretch, I looked down at my watch and realized that if I could make it to the top in 2 minutes, I would shave FORTY MINUTES off my time from the last time I did it.
FORTY MINUTES.
You know where I'm going with this, right?
FORTY MINUTES in my 40th YEAR.
How appropriate would that be?

In that very moment, Hilary's "Past the Point" came on my iPod.
Oh, the timing...
And so I booked it.
I actually started running.
After walking an incline for 4+ miles,
After being seriously exhausted reflecting on the last 18 months.
After seriously considering the 6 months that lie ahead of me.

I ran right up to that stop sign with not a second to spare, without anyone seeing or being there to applaud.
It was just me.
I made my goal.
Forty minutes faster than 18 months prior.
And I cried like a baby.
The wailing kind of crying.

I had spent the last 18 months doing all the things I knew I couldn't do.
I hadn't been perfect but I have kept at it.
I had believed.
I had become an optimist.
I had asked for bread when I had previously been content with stones.
I had learned to trust and learned to love.
It's been a remarkably sweet and significant and sacred journey.

And, that morning, as I reached the top, reflecting on the past was only for a moment because in the moment I touched the sign, I realized the most important thing...

I was ready...so ready...to spend the next 6 months doing all the things I KNOW I can do.
I was ready.
I am ready.


I won't fear my "I Can" anymore.
I won't run from it.
I won't hide from it.
I won't shirk from it.

My playing small will not serve the world.
It will not serve me.
And it will not reflect my profoundly deep gratitude to a loving God who through His tender mercy and grace, takes our "I Can" and helps us become all He intends for us to be.

Am I really ready?
Oh, yeah.

I'm Ready.
So. Ready.

Fearing "I Can" (Part 1)

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. 

Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. 

It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. 

We ask ourselves, 

Who am I to be brilliant, 

gorgeous, 

talented, 

fabulous? 

Actually, who are you not to be? 

You are a child of God. 

Your playing small does not serve the world.

-Marianne Williamson

It had been 18 months.
I wasn't where I was "supposed" to be and, honestly, I've carried a bit of shame about that for the last year.
But...
I knew it was time to go back to where it all started.

If you go back to December 2010, you'll read a series of posts where I shared my experience at Fitness Ridge. Last week I returned to that amazing place for "round 2".

I left my life (well, most of it) for an entire week and took one of my dearest friends, DeAnn (SO proud of her!) to experience it for herself.
I knew I needed to reconnect and get a little kick in my pants.
But, I had no idea what was really in store for me.

And I hardly know where to begin to do it all justice.
But I want to try.

As soon as we drove up on Sunday afternoon, I was overcome with a feeling of anxiousness.
You know how there are certain events or time periods in your life where the farther away you get from them, the better they seem?
I had spent 18 months "romanticizing" the life-changing experience, kind of forgetting how ridiculously hard it had been.
But as I got out of my car, it all came back to me. I think I apologized to DeAnn almost immediately. There was no way I had adequately prepared her for what she was about to do.

I walked in and the trainer who changed my life last time was there waiting for me.
It was so good to see her and she was proud of how far I had come.
And was ready for me Monday afternoon in a personal training session I set up.

"So, tell me where your head is at?" she asked.
And I couldn't contain the tears.

The stirrings had started the night before and I had felt them all morning...on the hike...during the workout. I didn't know how to articulate what I was experiencing...until I started talking.

"When I was here last time, I was afraid of all the things I knew I couldn't do...but now...I think I'm afraid of all the things I know I can."

I don't know how to explain it and I don't expect it to make any sense but I knew that the life that I've known, even the "new one" of the previous 18 months, was comfortable and "good enough". It's a world I have understood and felt safe in. It's a world that didn't really need to change anymore.

Except that I still wanted it to change.

And I had the impression when I arrived on Sunday that the Lord was seriously ready to give me everything I've always wanted. I felt it all morning on Monday.
And it was almost too much.

Because that required me to ask myself one very important question:

Am I really ready?