On being humbled (part 1: the rise)

I’ve been doing CrossFit for over eight years now. When I first started, I was a true beginner. Aside from running casually here and there and playing intramural soccer in college (remind me to tell you about how I got recruited by the Mathletes… a bunch of Math Grad students who basically just needed more girls on the field in order to play), I hadn’t done any true training regiment since I quit playing soccer after my sophomore year of high school. I started CrossFit when I was 23, so it had been a while since I’d done anything athletic.

One of the things I love about CrossFit is that no matter how long you have been doing it, there is always something to get better at. For the first year, I was still very much a beginner. There were so many new movements to learn and my fitness level was constantly improving. Year two I was learning a lot of the higher level skill movements - things like kipping pull-ups and toes-to-bar. It was towards the end of my second year of CrossFit that we opened our own gym. At the time I was just the girlfriend, so I was a part of starting the new gym, while not officially being a part of starting the new gym. I’d say year three is when I really started getting good - I could do almost all of the movements and was getting stronger. It was here that I think my pride really started setting in.

At a small gym, it’s not hard to be on top. Even someone with only a little bit of experience (oh say, two years?) can shine. Thus was my case. Other than my best friend who I had started CrossFit with and maybe one or two others, most of the members we had were beginners. It was basically a three way race for the top of the leaderboard. Isn’t it convenient that most competitions give all three top places a medal? I so easily fell into the pride trap. And let me tell you, I spent years tumbling to the bottom (think of Alice falling down the hole into Wonderland).

I spent years at the top of the leaderboard. At year four and a half, I quit my job and started coaching and working at the gym. Now I was really at the top of my kingdom - I was the fittest in the land, I had the honor and prestige of being a coach, and I was the owner’s wife. I felt real good about myself and all of my accomplishments. And I was prideful AF.

Now don’t get me wrong, I loved our members. I wanted to see every single one of them succeed - both in their fitness goals and life. I genuinely cared for them. But you can care about people and still be totally conceited. Mine was just a subtle, internal conceited. So subtle that I didn’t even realize how bad it was. Maybe those closest to me saw it, but I sure didn’t.

Anyways, my kingdom started to topple the day I got pregnant.

On brokenness and grace

We tested our one rep max front squat at the gym today and I lifted 185 lbs. For those of you who don’t live in CrossFit or lifting world, all that means is we did front squats out of the rack and kept adding weight until the bar was too heavy for us to squat it. I attempted 195 lb. twice and failed. In my notes, I wrote that 185# was a “Postpartum PR (personal record)” because that’s the most weight I have front squatted since I got pregnant with Ellie.

The thing is, that’s how life is for me in the gym now. There is what I could do before Ellie, and what I can do after having Ellie. Birthing Ellie (and really the nine months of pregnancy leading up to it) changed everything for me. For more than a year into my postpartum journey I felt like I was two different people - old Katrina and new Katrina. Old Katrina was stronger, faster, fitter than new Katrina. For so long, all I wanted to be was old Katrina.

How many of us have that one moment that changed everything? Maybe it was an accident or illness that changed us forever, the end of a relationship we never saw coming, a mistake we made that we would give anything to go back and change. Maybe it was even a good thing, like the birth of your precious child, but it still left you grieving the things you sacrificed in the process (like your body and fitness progress). It’s a moment that lives on in your head and your heart and you just can’t seem to let it go.

Here’s the thing, all of those things are real and raw and worth being upset about. It’s ok - actually it’s good - to grieve things that leave you feeling broken. But I’m learning that I don’t have to stay in that place of brokenness forever.

Broken is the exact word I have used to describe how I felt postpartum. My body felt broken. My self image felt broken. My hope felt broken. For months I fought so hard to get back to the place that I “used to be” in the gym, and in many ways, I’m still not there. Like today, for example, when I front squatted more weight than I had in three years, but less than my old one rep max.

With a lot of counseling and a lot of work to disconnect my self image from my performance in the gym (more on that later), I am learning to enjoy and appreciate where I am today. I don’t have to get back to the place I used to be in order to be satisfied. I can celebrate where I am today, knowing my past shaped me, but didn’t ruin me. I can let go of the drive to push, push, push until I reach what used to be and simply give myself grace to exist with joy and peace in the present.

I think what most of us need and want is grace. Grace for the mistakes, grace for the life changes, grace for the brokenness. Grace to forgive ourselves, grace to stop comparing ourselves, grace to let go. One definition of grace includes, “disposition to kindness”. I think most of us would benefit from being kinder toward ourselves.

Sometimes the best way for us to accept grace is by receiving it from someone else. Someone who sees what happened, who knows the decisions we’ve made, and who tells us we are loved anyways. There is healing in that - in being accepted and loved and given grace from someone who knows not just our best moments, but also our worst. And the best place to receive this grace is from our loving Father.

He sees, He knows, He says, “I love you anyway.” He died on the cross so that His grace can cover our sin and guilt and shame and brokenness. His grace never runs out. His grace is sufficient. And His grace is a gift He offers to you today.

If you are struggling to let go of something from your past, I feel your pain. But my hope is that you could feel the peace, joy, and freedom that I am now experiencing as I learn to give myself grace and to accept grace from the Lord. There is hope and there is freedom and there is more than enough grace to go around.

On living for the applause

“I live for the applause, applause, applause. I live for the applause-plause, live for the applause-plause…” (thank you Lady Gaga)

I’ve already mentioned that I’m a recovering people pleaser. I say recovering because I believe the words we speak over ourselves matter and I am working hard with my therapist to change the narrative in my head and what I believe about myself. We are still trying to uncover the root of my people pleasing tendencies, but I’ve learned quite a few things in the process.

I’ve resented my propensity for people pleasing for years. I literally don’t want to be a people pleaser. But when you’ve been living a certain way all your life (or at least as long as you can remember) it’s nearly impossible to just stop. Part of me writing blogs is to challenge those tendencies by opening myself up to the possibility of rejection. Because we all know that where blogs live, there always seem to be at least a few trolls… And as silly as it sounds, the negative comment of an internet troll terrifies me.

After a session with my therapist this past July I wrote the following in the notes section of my phone:

“When you are a people pleaser, you live for the approval of others. When you live for the applause, you feel empty when there’s silence. When you look for your value to be affirmed by others, you feel a lack of self-worth when they aren’t affirming you. What’s worse, when they give you negative feedback you feel attacked.”

For those of you who are blessed and highly favored by the Lord and don’t struggle with people pleasing, let me explain a few things to you. We want you to like us. We want you to like us so much that we will do what we think you want us to do in order to get you to like us. We will also keep our own thoughts, desires, concerns, and opinions to ourselves in order to avoid even the inkling of conflict or disagreement (or maybe this part is my enneagram nine coming out?). It’s not that we don’t want to be known or that we want to be dishonest about who we are and what we think. It’s more that we would rather be a chameleon that everyone finds agreeable than a lizard that speaks their mind. We will only show you the sides of us that we think you will accept, hiding the pieces of ourselves that seem a potential for rejection.

I’ve watched this play out in many areas of my life. I’ve watched my relationships with others suffer because I avoided tough conversations for fear of conflict and rejection. I’ve experienced the frustration of wanting to be simultaneously mircro-managed and trusted to make my own decisions at work - micro-managed so that my boss would be pleased with every detail of my work, but also trusted to make my own decisions because I’m a capable adult human being. I’ve noticed it in the fact that even telling people where I want to go to lunch sometimes feels like an act of courage. Like, wut. That’s ridiculous. But it’s also true.

Social media is also a great example of people pleasing gone wild in my life. Did you know that when you receive a like or comment, your brain gets a hit of dopamine? Dopamine is the neurotransmitter that causes pleasure, motivation, and satisfaction in the brain (and the people who created social media know this by the way). Have you ever posted something and then incessantly checked your account for hours afterwards, riding the tidal waves of momentary satisfaction - one like and comment at a time - followed by the crashing of the wave when the likes and comments die off? I have. Every. Damn. Time. Like I said, I post - I mean live - for the applause-plause.

So, what to do about all of this? It’s depressing really, when you think about it. Living your life repressing all the intricacies of who you are in order to be accepted. It’s sad because you’re never truly fully known. And because there are people who would love to know you - the real you - and would accept the real you with open arms. But you are too scared to open yourself up to the potential of rejection, too scared to be vulnerable, to allow yourself to be fully known and fully loved. Sometimes I wonder how well some of my best friends even know me. Have I hidden too much of myself from even them? And if you want to go down a whole other rabbit trail (I won’t, for the sake of time) I often struggle with even knowing what I want, think, and desire because I’ve spent so much time mirroring those things of others that I’ve lost touch with my own.

Here’s what I’ve learned: People pleasing is like trying to satisfy a deep thirst by drinking from a water gun. And I mean the crappy dollar store ones that leak out of both ends. The approval of others is fleeting and satisfies for only a moment. But there is a better way.

I know a well that never runs dry. His name is Jesus. John 4:13-14 say, “Jesus answered, ‘Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks the water I give them will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give them will become in them a spring of water welling up to eternal life.’” Jesus is the answer to satisfying this thirst - this longing - inside of me to be loved and accepted. And not as the person I think people will accept, but as my true self.

I said it was like drinking water from a water gun, but really it’s more like drinking vinegar when you need water - it’s not even the same thing. The momentary applause of others are not of the same substance as the love and acceptance of our Heavenly Father.

We are all created with a longing and desire to be loved and accepted. And our human nature tells us that the way to satisfy those desires is with the approval of others. But the only place to find true satisfaction - satisfaction that doesn’t come and go with the changing tides of others opinions of us - is in the love and acceptance from our loving Father. He created us with this longing and made it so that only He could satisfy it, not so that He could control us, but so we could know Him too.

He is constant, stable, unchanging. His love and acceptance don’t change based on our behavior. He doesn’t bless us for being good or punish us when we fail. He is the rock that we can stand on, the anchor in the storm, the only true place of security in an ever-changing world. I think a lot of my desire for acceptance boils down to me looking for security, and that’s why I only share the things that feel “safe”. When my security rests in the capable hands of my Father, I no longer need the applause of others to hold me up.

He loves us simply because we are His, like a parent loves their child, like I love Ellie. I’ve never felt a love like the love I have for her. It’s consuming and unending and it exists simply because she is mine. I loved her before she breathed her first breathe outside of my womb and I love her on the good days and the bad. I do everything I can to try to let her know she is loved and accepted and safe and secure. And as she grows, so does my understanding of the love that our Father has for us.

So, next Wednesday I’ll head to my therapist’s office for my appointment and we will continue digging deeper until we reach the root of my people pleasing tendencies. And once we find it, you better believe we’ll be uprooting it, setting it ablaze in an extraordinary display of triumph, and I’ll write a blog all about it so you too can share in our victory. And then I’ll turn my phone off for the rest of the day so that I’m not tempted to check the likes and comments because I will no longer be needing those things to feel loved and accepted. :)

On body image

I’m insecure. Maybe you already know this, and I just think I hide it better than I do. But if you were to take a deep dive into my psyche, most days I’m really just an insecure little girl.

Working in the fitness industry is a blessing. An overall healthy lifestyle and taking care of your body is just part of the gig. It feels good to know that you’re taking care of yourself - we all know that we should be working out regularly, after all. And if we’re not, we feel guilty deep down inside. But even good things can have bad side effects. One of them is the unfortunate comparison trap. I suppose not everyone falls into it, but I definitely did.

Everyone looks up to someone. Everyone aspires to be like somebody else. And as ridiculous as it sounds when I say it out loud, the mirror I’ve been comparing myself to is that of the professional CrossFit athlete.

I would really love to have an eight pack year round (shoot, I’d even take a six pack), perfectly matching sports bras and shorts, nutrition on point, and the confidence of a champion. Never mind the fact that they workout 3+ times a day, are sponsored by clothing companies that send them perfectly fitting outfits straight to their doorstep, have a whole team of dietitians working with them plus meal prep services providing them with delicious AND nutritious food, and have worked their asses off for years to gain their confidence.

I think I’ve come to terms with the fact that my postpartum body just isn’t going to have an eight pack. I get most of my workout clothes at TJMaxx because #budget, but one day NoBull is going to call me up (I just know it). The nutrition piece is a tossup for me. I’ve been on that merry-go-round for years and at this point I really don’t have the energy or desire to do what it takes to look how I want. The confidence bit is at an interesting place for me right now. I’m working with a therapist and it’s been doing wonders for my self-image. But it’s definitely still a work in progress. I think really what I’m saying is: I’d like to be a stay at home mom, who looks like a professional athlete, but eats like a seventh grader, and has the confidence of a two year old. Oh and I only want to workout 5 times a week… I’m not interested in two-a-days (or three, or four).

I’m making a joke of it, but I’m also dead serious. How often do we compare ourselves to others? Why do we set such high expectations for ourselves to reach completely unrealistic standards, or else we’ll never be happy? Why do we expect the same results that someone else is seeing, when they are living an entirely different life? And why aren’t we satisfied with what is right in front of us - both our bodies and the much more important things like enjoying life with the people we care about.

I’m honestly tired of fighting with my body. I laugh (slow fade into a cry) when I think about how I used to be insecure about the rocking bod I had before pregnancy reshaped it. I’ve spent more than enough time hating what I see in the mirror. I’m tired of trying on and taking back off clothes that used to fit - still don’t fit - hopefully will fit again one day. I hate how self-conscious I was in a bathing suit on a trip we took this past weekend to Florida. But I can feel things shifting in the background of my mind, and I’m trying to lean into it.

Who cares? Let me say it again, louder for the people in the back: Who FREAKING cares? We’ve all heard the, “no one else is paying as much attention to you as you are - they are too busy thinking about themselves” thing before. But let’s be honest, it’s true. Also, again, who freaking cares?

Suppose the beautiful skinny girl at the pool (that I was simultaneously admiring and hating - insert face palm emoji) saw me and thought, “Wow. She shouldn’t be wearing that. I’d be so embarrassed if that was me…” One, I don’t know you, Judy, and I’ll never see you again and therefore I don’t give a shit what you think about me. Two, I am married (J’s the only person I’m here to impress) and had a baby (who is the greatest joy of my life) AND found the confidence (read “am working on finding”) to wear this to the pool. So thank you for your judgement stranger, but my life is so full of things that matter WAY more than impressing you. Lastly, as my friend Ashton says, “Your body is the least interesting thing about you.” There is SO much more to me than this shell I am living in. So judge me if you must, but you have no clue how effing beautiful I am on the inside (insert Lizzo attitude and z pattern snaps).

Like I said, I can feel things slowly shifting in my mind. I am still very much so struggling with my body image and self-confidence and expectations and just plain accepting myself for what I am and where I am in the whole process. But I am starting to understand on a deeper level that my happiness and confidence don’t have to be tied to my body. I don’t have to look a certain way in order to respect myself or enjoy the things going on around me. I can focus on how I feel - physically and emotionally - rather than how I look. I can stop missing out on all of the beautiful moments with the people I love every single day because of my own insecurity.

I was writing down some blog ideas on the flight home from Florida and had a moment of deep realization. A lot of times when I write it’s just working through my thoughts and feelings, but every once in a while I write something that almost feels holy. I typed this into the notes section of my phone and sat there for a moment:

If God created me and said, “it is good”, how arrogant of me to say, “not good enough”. If God loves me just as I am, how disrespectful of me to reject who I am. If God desires me, how blind of me to desire to be someone else.

Ouch. If the God of the universe who formed my innermost parts created me this way, and he never makes mistakes, whyyyyy would I think I know better? Why would I think my plan or vision for my body is better? Why would I fight, critique, loathe, and hide how He made me?

I’ve still got a long ways to go. But I’m starting to slowly embrace the concept that the shape of my body doesn’t determine my social value. I’m working on embracing my body right where I am with kindness, instead of critique. I’m also working on focusing on how I feel rather than how I look. Ultimately I’m trying to be thankful for all that I have, rather than thinking about what I’m not. I’m still insecure, but a little less so than a few weeks ago, so I’ll take that as a win. :)

On blogging

Ah, where to start?… As our good friend Julie Andrews once said, “Let’s start at the very beginning, a very good place to start.”

I’ve thought about starting a blog for years. But back in the 2010s there was a surge where everyone and their mom was starting a blog and so I obviously didn’t want to jump on that bandwagon. For whatever reason, I don’t like following trends, even though I’m a recovering people pleaser who has spent the past 31 years of my life trying to gain people’s acceptance. If someone had asked me to start a blog, I probably definitely might would have - just so they wouldn’t be upset… But since everyone was doing it and no one asked me to, I didn’t want to be like all those silly people who started blogs.

Here I am, probably 10 years later, finally starting a blog. Insert face palm emoji.

I like to write. Writing is one of my main ways of processing things, particularly overwhelming things, in my life. I start most days with a cup of coffee (with creamer, obviously), my Bible, and my journal. Most mornings I write a letter of sorts to the Lord. Sometimes it feels like I’m having a conversation with Him, but usually it’s just me processing through something that happened the day before or something that I’m thinking about for the upcoming day. It’s where I try to get ahold of my overwhelm, where I untangle my emotions, and where I express my gratitude for all of the good things He has placed in my life.

I also like to share. Not necessarily my ice cream, but my struggles. One positive thing that social media has shown me (I have a love/hate relationship with sm like everyone else but FOMO keeps me coming back…) is that when we share something vulnerable, it simultaneously helps us and other people. When people respond kindly to our vulnerability, it affirms us. And when we share our vulnerabilities with others, it can help both of us feel less alone and give them the courage to share their own struggles. We are all fighting our own demons, but I think often we are fighting similar ones. And it’s always easier when you don’t have to fight alone.

So here I am, starting a blog. One, so I can process all the things in my life. And two, so that maybe something I’m learning along the way will help you too. I hope you find my blog posts funny, relatable, and encouraging. I hope they make you feel less alone.