I threw three-quarters of the paperwork out, easily and unemotively turfing it and keeping just a small handful of things for snapshot of workplaces in the 90's kind of purposes. It bore little significance to me now. So much so, for I had been so proud of it all once, that I had to step back and be gently with myself as I took stock of what had transpired in all the years in between then and now.
There were many times as I stood there sorting my office life where I recalled that forward-thinking Me as she slipped the documents into the archive file. She had put them there even as her belly expanded with who was to become our girl, Ellanor. She was expecting that one day, her son or daughter would like to know what his or her mother had been doing prior to becoming their mother.
Today, none of that seems to matter. The praise and achievements of a string of jobs that served only to pay off the mortgage - even though I put my heart and soul loyally into every workplace that hired me - are of no importance now.
It struck me deeply that I used to rate so highly my work-a-day jobs that, really, were soul-less. Why is it that I kept a succession of performance reviews with their studiously signed and counter-signed cover pages as evidence of having done anything worthy of this world, when I have been berating myself for the state of my body that has cleverly borne two live children and kept recovering through the loss of twelve others?
I didn't mean to write a post. This was meant to be a vlog only. I'll shuddup now. Here, watch me bare more honestly than I planned
Ok. Things I didn't say...:
• Firstly, I forgot to go back to my train of thought after Pepper kindly interrupted! Suffice to say, I realised that it was a conscious choice I had to make - to stop blaming my body gaining increasing amounts of weight seemingly unstoppable weight, stop blaming the pregnancies for affecting the hormones and making me a chemical jumble of a mess, stop blaming the IVF for setting up my already overloaded system, stop blaming every other external factor.... and stop blaming ME, possibly most importantly, for the decisions I was blindly, unconsciously making. Without that first step of ridding the blame, I couldn't have spurred myself into action.
• I have lost over 10kg so far in 2011 (I haven't stopped counting yet!). Although I have been told a lot in my life that I am "lucky" because I have no one problem area, it also means I have work to do everywhere! But it's true that whilst I may gain weight everywhere, I also tone everywhere evenly. Which is a blessing. So sometimes it's hard for anyone other than me to see I've gained or lost weight - a bonus, you might think, unless you're the one in a too-heavy body;
• No longer is it an effort to: climb out of bed, walk up a few stairs, get down on the floor to play with my child, squat to look in a low cupboard (my legs would cramp and ache within 30 seconds, so poor was my muscle "tone");
• After just seven weeks on this fitness program, my mindset is... well, set! It has been an emotional wasteland, that void between my head, heart and mouth (rather, willpower) - the realisation I had during this vlog (that I had given up) has really struck me.
• Plié (or sumo) squats with an upright row thrown in holding hand weights = killer! Ditto to a raised lunge (with front foot on a step). But these two techniques in particular, for me, feel oh so good. It feels so powerful knowing my thigh and glute muscles are working hard to raise and lower my upper body.
• I am feeling the familiar heady rush of adrenaline that I used to crave in the years when I went diligently to the gym and had a personal trainer. I had all but convinced myself in recent years that I didn't miss The Burn of working muscle and was too far gone to ever experience again. Amazing stuff when I know that just two months ago, I couldn't get off my couch without a LOT of effort and not a little bit of audible grunt to boot.
• No small thanks to Michelle Bridges' 12 week body transformation for the kickstart to my return to fitness.