Be Smacked Upside the Head

On long car trips to see my orthodontist as a teenager, I got bored (yeah, the doc wasn’t local). My dad used to tell me a lengthy “joke.”

“A great rain came once to a small town and the rain poured up so high that the streets were flooded. After many hours of more torrential rains, the town was encouraged to desert their homes out of safety and get to higher, drier ground before all was lost. The townspeople began to pack up. Everyone. Except one stubborn old lady. She wasn’t going to move. The water came in her front door and her furniture began to float. Her neighbor came by in a canoe and peeked through her second floor bedroom window and begged her to get in the canoe and row to safety. She refused. The water rose. As the old woman crawled onto the roof of her house a helicopter began to hover above and extended a ladder for her to rise to safety. Again, she refused. After multiple attempts to save this poor, stubborn woman, the water rose higher and she drown.

At the heavenly pearly gates, this woman met St. Peter and was distraught. She was led into heaven and came into the presence of God, so upset for her tragic end. “How could you let me die like that? You didn’t warn us of the flood! You didn’t let me prepare! How could you have let this happen and not save me?” And God replies, “Lady, I sent a canoe and a freaking helicopter! What more did you need?”

Ha. Yep, that’s my Dad.

I do believe that the world does whisper to us at times. And sometimes it shouts. Then sometimes we get screams and freight trains. And if we still refuse to listen, or are too damn stubborn to listen, something can come at use like a Mack truck wrapped up in a F5 tornado. That’s what happened to me today.

2015 was filled with a lot of good things and a lot of not so good things. It was a year of ups and downs. I recovered from a near death bike accident. I started my own coaching business, Pure Bravery Multisport. I began my work as an Arbonne Independent Consultant and promoted twice. I finished my 2nd Ironman and got a personal record. I survived a mountain of medical bills. Lots of good stuff happened.

One thing that’s always been ongoing and my biggest nemesis is myself. I have a tremendous amount of head trash. I can be my own worst enemy. It’s not like I don’t know this, I really do recognize it. The problem is that even when I try to challenge my thoughts (because rationally I know I’m being ridiculous and counsel my patients to see the same), these negative patterns can become so “normal” that I don’t see how much the impact my daily life over and over again. My “normal” isn’t healthy.

So the biggest problem I had with 2015 is grief over what I lost on that day I crashed in Ironman Arizona 2014. I went into 2015 very sad and over the months of recovery that laid ahead of me I let myself go physically, mentally and emotionally. I missed workouts. I overslept. I made up excuses for a lot of things. I drank too much. I ate way too much. The very things I challenge my patience to change were the same things that kept me miserable.

So it all hit me today when a patient of mine was sitting in my office complaining to me about how she wasn’t allowed to run. She’s in recovery right now and isn’t cleared to run quite yet. For my patient, this is tragic and sad for her because years ago she was a professional athlete. Literally. She was on a professional team. She remembers those days with fondness and joy. That part of her life was behind her but the joy she felt in being that kind of athlete was missing. She hates not being able to run and do the exercise she loved. I know this is hard for her and I know she's making wise decisions in listening to us. I know she's sad and has mentioned how she used to be an AMAZING athlete.

BAM. There is was. Holy crap.

And it hit me…...it was the same things I spent 2015 telling myself….that same line, “I used to be an amazing athlete” was the same thing I had been telling myself since I woke up in that hospital over a year ago. At that time, I was in the best shape physically, mentally and emotionally I had ever been. I was ready to tackle Ironman Arizona with everything I had and I was so ready. And in a moment it was gone. And 2015 came on…..and I ate….and the pounds came on, the dark head trash rose. I felt handicapped. Everything was still different as I recovered I tried to get back into the rhythm of training I knew so well before but something wasn’t right and the harder it got the more I hated myself and the more I hated myself the more I found solace in crappy food, drink and isolation. The struggle was real and I became to loathe myself which led to more misery…...and a slower pace in every sport in which I had grown to excel.

And the head trash continued……”You used to run a 9:15 EASY pace and now you can’t even keep a 10:15 without being out of breath! Your swim times have gone down dramatically! You missed another workout because you drank too much last night, you frickin’ loser! More crappy food again, even though you have another long workout tomorrow and you’ve put on so much weight….what the hell is wrong with you? Shit Amy, if anyone knew this about you, you’d be done! What athlete would EVER want you! What patient would EVER want your counseling??? Don’t tell anyone you’re suffering or sad….be grateful you’re alive and shut up…..they all helped you financially, you know!!!!!. Nope, tell them you can’t go out, you’re too much for anyone right now. Avoid, avoid, avoid. Where did your joy go? You’re such a idiot. You know what to do and you don’t have the drive to do it! You’re pathetic.”

I was sitting there today watching a patient tell me her pain and it was the same pain I’d felt for the past year. Something was so challenged in my recovery efforts that I lost sight of the athlete I was and I truly believed that even though I lived, she died. I’d never get her back and so I threw in the towel. My own self esteem and belief in my abilities fell apart.  Keep in mind that while this all was happening internally, I did the best I could to keep up a good front for others. So fake. So stupid. So NOT the realness I preach.

So…..I’m tired of my own bullshit. I have to start believing and telling myself daily that NOT A SINGLE PART OF ME died that day. I’m still me. It’s all here. That killer athlete I was who is full of abundant thinking and powerful drive is still here. And she’ll rise to the surface again….maybe not overnight, maybe not in a month. Maybe it’ll be a while before she’s back in full swing, but if I nurture her and love her, she’ll find her voice again. And that athlete isn’t just an athlete….she’s a coach, and a damn good one. She’s a business entrepreneur and a damn good one.

As I sat with my patient today I realized that even with all she’s been through and all that has been taken from her with this eating disorder, she’s still a professional athlete. She’s still a major badass.  She’s a pretty amazing woman who just got off kilter for a while, and she’s finding her way back, slow as it might be, she still keeps stepping forward.

So…..turns out there’s no need for resurrection after all. I thought that big part of me I loved so much died that day. Turns out she didn’t die. I just have to let her comeback. And being as impatient as I am, I want it tomorrow. But the coach in me knows you can’t build an athlete overnight. It takes time, but it’s MY journey and MY goals.

And for now I’ll run the pace I need to run, no matter how “slow” my head trash thinks it is. I’ll nourish myself the way I need to because I’ve got goals. I’ll quit avoiding things that scare me or worry about what other people think. If that accident did teach me anything it’s to not wait…...life’s too short.

And we all have this crap. We all struggle. No matter our position in life, no matter our career or our status. We ALL have head trash. I just hope I learn to recognize that mine isn’t worth my attention anymore. And if I’m too real in this post for anyone to want me as a coach, therapist, partner or friend, then it’s ok. I’m tired of my bullshit.

And my patient will get to run again, I know this. She’s too stubborn to let her eating disorder take that away. She’ll struggle with her own head trash too, but she’ll get there. And I hope I'm there to see it.

Be Smacked Upside the Head. Be Brave.