Boot Camp Here I Come!

The words “Boot Camp” bring up visions of new recruits for the military crawling under and over, between, around and through every obstacle known to man as well as a few others thrown in for surprise!  So why in the world would I even consider subjecting my body to anything remotely related to a boot camp?  Isn’t that what separates the ‘men from the boys’ so to speak?

These were my thoughts whenever my 32 year old daughter Rebekah would mention how much she was enjoying Renton Results Boot Camp. Doing something like that was the farthest from my mind in June when she started training there. In fact I was finding myself becoming a bit resentful of her success and her excitement in reaching goals she had almost given up on. It didn’t help that I was in the midst of adding another 10 pounds to my already "fluffy" girth. It didn’t help that I had decided I was going to try to be happy fat! I didn’t want to hear it—not that she was lecturing me or even indicating I needed to go with her. In fact she continued to encourage me that I was beautiful and helped me accentuate the positives--- [Should I say the pluses? As in plus size?  J] with my wardrobe.

However, seemingly hopeless situations demand drastic action. So I arrived at a day the very end of August when I told Rebekah, “I think I’d like to try your boot camp.”  The next time she would be going was Wednesday, September 1, 2010. So I tagged along. I could go for a week to see if it was something that would work for me. No money lost if it didn’t!

It soon became apparent that I was the oldest one there. Not only was I twice as old as my 32 year old daughter, there were those who were  5 to 10 years younger than her! I was so grateful to see another lady probably 10 to 15 years my junior! She probably does not know to this day how encouraging she was to me!  I really need to let her know!

So let the action begin----did I just say that???? Warm ups were first:  5 exercises of 50 seconds each with 10 second breaks. After the first one I was out of breath. By the fifth one I was dripping wet from sweat and wondering “what in the world have I gotten myself into!!??”  The trainers watched me like a hawk. They weren’t going to have a “senior citizen” mess herself up on their watch!  I can’t even remember the intervals we did that day. I do remember it was hard! I was exhausted part way through. For a brief second I considered escaping to the bathroom, but on second thought decided that I’d have to come back out sooner or later. Plus, I’d probably have someone banging on the door to see if I was O.K. 

Rebekah was so much encouragement telling me “Do as much as you can, Mom. If you can’t do it, just hold a plank.”  HOLD A PLANK????? You gotta be kidding! I can’t even hold one for more than a few seconds and it’s a plank from the knees at that! I was to be “plank queen” for quite a few weeks to come! I finished out the boot camp that Wednesday and Rebekah was ecstatic. “You made it through the entire time!” she commended me. My reply? “I didn’t know I had any other option!”  Rebekah informed me after the fact that she had seen new people quit half way through and sit at the side curled up hugging their knees! I’m very glad I didn’t know that before hand!

My introduction to boot camp left me exhausted, but wanting more. My body was aching, but it was a good kind of ache!  Like muscles waking up from a long sleep. I came back without Rebekah on Friday and again on Saturday. Saturday was a killer work out for me!  I was so glad it hadn’t been the first one or I might not have come back!  That same week they announced a Back to School Weight Loss Challenge to begin on the 12^th of September. Was I in the right place at the right time?  So what did I decide? I’ll be back in a few days to share the amazing journey I embarked upon at Renton Results Boot Camp!  Thanks for visiting with this "Babyboomergrandma".  And until next time, may God richly bless your life.

“A slap in the face?”

I felt like I had just been slapped in the face. It was 1994 ---17 years ago. I was enjoying reading a self-improvement book called “Telling Yourself the Truth” by William Backus. I arrived at a chapter toward the end of the book which began meddling with my mind. This was a chapter that would forever change my outlook and approach to life.

Up to this point in my life, I had always prided myself in a job well done, going the extra mile or two, making the best better, and doing a job no one could do any better. I had the latest organizing, self-help, and improvement books.  If my husband had an idea, I would always see the big picture and the potential pitfalls. I liked to call It being practical, being realistic. However, I think there’s another name for it, being pessimistic, critical spirit, always seeing the cup half empty---focusing on the failure factor potential rather than celebrating success. After all, I had to balance out his ‘pie in the sky’ faith filled ‘unrealistic’ cup half full approach to life. Someone had to keep his feet on the ground!  Yes, he is a very patient man!

Not only did I have to do my best, I wanted my daughters to do their best as well. They were the dread of other girls at the county fair. If they got their garments, cooking projects, or other entries past me, they were assured of having a top place and usually a championship rating. What a tremendous amount of pressure my expectations put on them. I see this looking back though at the time it was not a conscious motive I recognized.

So back to this book. What I had prized so highly—being a perfectionist, doing a perfect job, saying the perfect thing, being a perfect family, was suddenly under attack! Perfectionism is an admirable character quality isn’t it?  It seems that the author of this book was saying otherwise!  Perfectionism had a lot of negative aspects to it. You mean that all my life what I thought was exemplary was in fact a very negative character flaw? Talk about knock me off my feet! 

To sum it up, I found out that even with its positive qualities, perfectionism had become a performance prison for me with no possibility of parole for good behavior, because no amount of ‘good behavior’ nothing I could do would ever be enough to convince me, the perfectionist, of my intrinsic value as a person.” I derived my value not from who I am in Christ, but what I could do. I felt valued because I made my husband’s suits. I felt valued because I could organize my home, have it squeaky clean, teach my daughters, and organize anything from girls club to work parties at church or dinner parties at home.  

It was a great day when it dawned on me that my husband’s unconditional love was based on who I am, not what I could do for him.  I am glad to say that over the years I have changed my self-talk!  I have come to accept the fact that I am perfect in God’s eyes and that’s what counts!  I am a former perfectionist, living by grace in the freedom I have in Christ Jesus, living in faith and letting go of my perfectionist expectations of self and others.

The emotional, spiritual and mental implications are obvious, but what does this have to do with being physically fit?  There are at least two perfectionist attitudes that have sabotaged my weight loss.  If I didn’t follow my food plan perfectly I was afraid I’d loose control completely and get fat.  If I didn’t exercise every day, I felt I might quit altogether.  So how did I learn to deal with this? We shall see. Thanks for visiting with this "Babyboomergrandma". 

And until next time, may God richly bless your life.

First born type A girl marries baby of the family boy!

May 29^th, 2011 will mark 40 years since I married the love of my life.  I have actually known my husband for 45 years.  While in my second year of college,  my roommate and I wanted to come to the ‘big city’ for spring break. So we set out in my only transportation---my parents olive green 1950's something Chevy station wagon loaned to me for travel to school. We stayed at the YMCA in Seattle. Coming from Elma via Aberdeen, this was a big adventure!  My sister knew a couple of guys in Seattle who would show us the town. They picked us up from the Y and took us to dinner at a restaurant called Gasperetti’s.  The weather was nice and after dinner we drove down along lake Washington for an evening walk along the lake. This was the spring of 1966 just before I was to graduate from Grays Harbor Community College.

As I walked along the lake with Richard, one of the young men, he started talking to me about my spiritual life. His questions were very pointed and uncomfortable. I had been brought up in church; Sang in the choir, attended and taught Sunday School, went forward at age 12,  got baptized and joined the church. I did everything my parents expected, trying to set a good example for my four younger siblings. That is, until I went away to college. I had gone through a year of full blown rebellion. If my parents had taught me something, I did the opposite. So as he brought up these questions I had no ‘goody-two-shoes’ story to tell him. I knew I was doing wrong, going against what I had been taught and what was smart and right for my life!

It was during this time as a 19 year old that I committed my life to Christ.  I got into a church that would encourage my new life in Christ. Richard was also an encouragement to me. He would write letters that were like the Bible---scripture after scripture that helped me along on this adventure.   So it was hard not to be focused on him as well. He was encouraging, positive, handsome, friendly, ……But he was also wise!  He left for Jamaica June of that same year, not knowing if he would ever return. 

The saying “Distance makes the heart grow fonder” certainly played out in our relationship. His goal was that I be dependent on the Lord and my relationship with the Lord, not with some man—namely himself! He also had to have the assurance that I was God’s choice for him.  Being a new believer, I had no clue about how to figure out such an important decision.  I checked the mail box often. In those days it took a good three weeks for mail to travel from Washington State to Jamaica!   It seemed like three months!  The day I got the letter that he was heading back to the states was a day of delight for me.  He drove non-stop from Miami through LA up the coast to Seattle. Made a quick stop in Seattle and then continued on North to Bellingham, where I was in school.  

Over the next 4 ½ years, our relationship was on again, off again as I went through the process of maturing in Christ. I graduated and went on to teach school. Sometimes we went to church together, sometimes separately. One thing he told me at the beginning was that he would never marry me without my parent’s permission.  At the time, I made some comment to the effect that if that’s the case, we would never be getting married!  However, over the next 4 years my parents came to love my handsome, dark complexioned husband-to-be!  It was with genuine love and joy that they granted him permission to marry me. That was definitely a ‘God thing’!  

Walking down the aisle weighing
145pounds with my dad

We were married 5 weeks after his proposal. He was hoping for 3 days, but I told him I hadn’t waited for 5 years to get married tomorrow. While continuing to teach, plan my wedding, sew my wedding dress, flower girls and bride’s maid dresses, etc I was prepared by that  5th week. Part of the side ‘benefit’ of all the hustle and bustle was losing 15# without even trying. I was just too busy and too excited to eat!  Therefore, I walked down the aisle at my lowest ever adult weight. 145 pounds! 

Though that is my lightest weight, it was not a very ‘fit’ weight. I never exercised. I didn’t even know what exercise was other than high school and college P.E classes. I’m sure that being on my feet and ‘running’ all day as a teacher gave a certain level of fitness!  Plus I had youth on my side!

So began the new life of a ‘4^th generation first born type-A’ woman to her -baby boy of the family’ husband! Fortunately, he had the maturity of age and God given patience and grace to  love unconditionally this up-tight lady!

Thanks for visiting with this "Babyboomergrandma". My journey continues.  And until next time, may God richly bless your life.