Resurrection: A Difficult Year and the Return of FitMommas
The week of May 13 was a big one – family gatherings, Mother’s Day, the beginning of a summer”s worth of exterior home improvements, my Big Kid’s 6th birthday. I took that weekend to load up a few FitMommas posts so I could tackle that week’s to-dos, pre-posting up to Thursday, May 17th. That Thursday was the Big Kid’s birthday.
It is also the day that my dad died, at the age of 58 years old, of a massive heart attack. While he was working out.
Needless to say, his death came as a huge shock. One moment he was there, texting me “Happy Birthday” notes for my Big Kid and posting on my Facebook page. And then he was gone. For background purposes, my dad was diagnosed with Dilated Cardiomyopathy (enlarged heart) about 12 years ago. At the time, he was told that if he didn’t make drastic changes to his diet and lifestyle, he’d only live about eight more years. I guess I should be happy that, given he had changed very little about his lifestyle, he beat the odds. But over a decade had passed, and memories fade, and believe it or not, you forget that your loved one is living with a ticking time bomb in his chest. So the shock was as raw as if I’d always believed him to be perfectly healthy.
I hadn’t intended to stop posting altogether. I hadn’t intended to stop exercising. I’m intelligent enough to know better. But the fact is – my dad died while working out. I post daily Reasons to Workout for the mass population. Yes, I know that your chances of dying of an obesity-related disease by not exercising are far greater than dying while working out. Especially if you are an otherwise healthy adult with doctor’s approval. But that didn’t stop the massive mental block from settling in for me.
I can’t tell you what was so magical about this morning, especially since it was a particularly crappy night. The Beast woke up four times crying, my Big Kid woke up screaming from a nightmare, the Chiweeniehuahua left me three piles of mini-diarrhea. I’ve physically been up out of bed since 4:05 a.m., and believe I got a cumulative total of three hours of sleep. Amidst the chaos that is my life, I decided it was time. Time to bring back FitMommas – life goes on, and while I do not necessarily know the exact path that this FitMommas blog will take, I’m still committed to leading an overall fit and healthy lifestyle while trying to raise
little urchins children.
I’ve also learned a few things about myself, and life in general, in the past two months:
1. I’m crazy imperfect. I’m not a natural athlete, my natural inclination is not to workout but to sleep and lounge and read. I’d eat Ice Cream for breakfast, lunch, and dinner if I hadn’t recently found out I was allergic to dairy (No, seriously, I am not making that up. Either part.) I quite often do not practice what I preach.
2. I’m crazy weird and contradictory. I’m a shy leader. I’m self-conscious about beliefs that I hold true-to-heart. I like to curse like a sailor but shield my children from too much violence. I’m a Liberal Jesus Lover.
3. I’m unfocused, constantly waiting for the right thing to come along. I don’t know what I want to do when I grow up. Nothing I’ve done has truly made me happy, and I feel like my passion in life is just around the next corner. Wherever that corner is.
4. I’m afraid that people will find out about The Real Me if I show them how unfocused I am. And how imperfect I am. And how contradictory I can be. (See the above three points.)
5. Life is freakishly short. If I don’t move forward, I’m never going to find that corner. My dad only half-heartedly pursued what he really wanted in life, giving in to his fear (remember Point 4?) and falling back on the old “someday” excuse that we all give. His someday will never come. Mine could be gone tomorrow. What the hell am I waiting for?
So with that, FitMommas is back. Expect ramblings and chaos, with occasional splatterings of focus and well-constructed thought. Oh, and probably more cussing. I just realized that “Jack*ss” has been replaced by M*therF*cker as my new favorite curse word. Seriously. Say it out loud, with force. It feels good.
And hug your loved ones. Call your mom (and your dad.) Forgive. Love. And all that sh*t. Because it’s true.
In the words of the great poet, Dave Matthews, “I can’t believe that we would lie in graves, wondering if we had spent our living days well. I can’t believe that we would lie in graves, wondering what we might of been.”
And thanks, Dad. For everything, good and bad.