I am convinced that at no point in life are we humans rigid and iron like. When we are at our best, or at our worst, we are still impressionable. We are always changing. This is what I like the most about being human, we are never the same. The person you are today is not the person you will become in 5 months, or years.

Our goals, ideals, beliefs, will change. Our entire personhood will adapt to what we choose to pursue.

While I sit here, I know that I am not the same as I was at 18, nor at 21, nor at 25. Thank the gods. And neither were you. Intrinsically, we know this. We know we will change. We know when we pick out partner, maybe your spouse, that over the duration of your relationship you both will change. But, in the same breath that we welcome change, growth, self-development, we somehow shut it out when it comes to our goals in the gym. Be it strength, speed, sport, whatever…we have this awful knack of getting ourselves pigeon-holed into one idea of what we should be, should do, or should like.

I will never discourage someone from running. I myself, laughably now, used to be a runner. I was fast. 6-minute mile, 13-minute two mile, and I loved sprints. Really, I fell in love with running in college. Part of it was the friend that I would run with (a speed demon who cleared an 11-minute 2-mile time…obviously the unit badass and she was admired by all) she encouraged (and bribed) me into these long runs with friendship and food (bagels to be exact). The other part of it was loving the fact that I could keep up with the boys, and every now and then dust them. In college, this was a new version of myself.

In high school, I was the band kid. Seriously.

Marching band, jazz band, wind ensemble, orchestra, all county, musical theater (mostly in the pit) etc. If it was music related, I was in it. But, my identity as an athlete evaporated when I decided to jump full into music with the hopes of going to college for music performance and education. When I got into Penn State (and their marching band program) I felt secured in my path. My identity as a musician felt a little more secure. I had somewhere to belong. But, the reality was I was a broke kid who couldn’t afford it. I had to shift gears. While I was upset at the time, it was the best thing I ever did for myself. I remember, in the midst of PT one morning, seeing a vaguely defined quad for the first time…and I lost my ever-loving mind. My poor roommate was made to look at it at least 15 times and had to deal with my bursting self-satisfaction that “I had muscle.” Luckily, we went to high school together so she didn’t kill me in the process of 0430 PT wake up times or when I would come back from the field and pass out on our floor from exhaustion.

 I lived for it.

And being good at it (with a 300+ PT score) brought me all the satisfaction I never knew I could bring myself. Physically, I found out that I could actually “go” and for the first time, I was considered athletic.

But, then my back broke, I spiraled, and my dream of commissioning into the Army washed down the drain.

At this point, that was the most athletic I had ever been.

And then it was gone.

I never saw myself as the athlete, that was a title I reserved for my sister (a D2 volleyball player who could have played D1) and my brothers. I was the self-proclaimed introvert, the nerd, the one who “mom’d.”

It wasn’t until after the back injury that I began to train (read: lift weights). Somewhere down the line I got sucked into the world of bodybuilding (I had no business being on stage at the time but, I’m glad I did it), and then from there I got into weightlifting, and at the heckling of another coach who claimed I “would never be strong” I jumped into powerlifting. Big ole pffffffftttt to you, dude.

If I were to write a letter to myself at 18, I don’t know that I would believe that I would have accomplished what I have. Not just the gym, but the industry I’m in. First off, my degree is in Anthropology and International Studies. I studied/study Arabic for fun, I’ve competed nationally in powerlifting and now I’m dabbling in BJJ. 18 year old Lauren would never believe that I would be openly challenge people, be outspoken, or be this dedicated about my goals, my opinions, and my values.

All of this to say, when you plot your goals for your aesthetic, your strength, how you want to look…understand that they will change. Like the seasons, what is ideal for you will shift. I wanted to be the skinny one (read: small, cute, popular, thigh gap with long pretty hair) and now…I want to be dynamic, witty, sassy, a powerhouse who can squat a house. I’m still the kind, inwardly shy, little self-conscious kid I was at 18. But now, I’m not afraid to be all of me. I embrace the change of goals and dreams, I learn as I go, I’m okay with fucking up here and there (not too often…I’m still type A), and I’m okay with doing things inspite of being scared.

So, embrace your current goals but know they may shift. And when they do…I hope you run headlong into the winds of change and jump when you have the chance.

In sarcasm, salt, and honey,

LP

Not going to lie, this started as your typical, and over-done, “finding the motivation to start” piece. But, halfway through an Attack on Titan binge and paragraph four I realized that isn’t what I wanted to talk about.

Let’s face it, and we’re about to have a gigantic come to *insert whatever deity you pray to here* moment. The Fitness Industry is a mess. It’s a swamp of fatphobic, ableist, racist, bigoted, and transphobic ideas who have found a haven in the realm of social media and abs. Yes, Ainsley your abs are nice. I also saw your post fat-shaming people while then prescribing a diet that isn’t suitable for a child so you can make money. So, let’s start to unpack the numerous red flags that are currently running rampant on the phone in your hand so you can make safe, educated, and productive decisions for yourself.

Fitness and athleticism do not have a look. Sure, abs are in. But guess what, there are Olympians who are classified as Super Heavy Weights…and guess what, they are undoubtably more fit than 99.9% of us. Fat isn’t a death sentence, Fat doesn’t mean unathletic, Fat is nothing but that…fat. Big whoop. However, if you’re having a visceral reaction to that statement you have some fatphobic biases to work on. And no, that’s not me passing judgement. Fatphobic practices (coupled with misogyny and racism) lead to the misdiagnoses and death of thousands.  And before you come to me with the cries of “but their healthhhhhhh” their health is none of your business. None. N O N E. That’s between them and their doctor.

Most Fad diets don’t work. Why? They’re not meant to. When you look at marketing practices (meso and macro cycles) you’ll see a diet propagate for all seasons: “Get summer ready” “Lose 10-lbs before *holiday*” etc., etc., bloody etc. You get the point. Fad diets don’t work for multiple reasons, a large chunk of this is a lack of education. Point systems, elimination diets, Keto, work by mostly eliminating calories and setting you *the dieter* in a caloric deficit. How does this happen? Doesn’t the magic of Keto just magically burn fat? Erm…Not quite. You see, diets (or weight/fat loss) work by reducing the calories you’re consuming. Keto eliminates carbs (yes, the Krebs cycle works and ketosis is a thing but it’s not magic and mostly makes freshman Biology students cry), points assign value to certain foods and you are then given a limit to stay within (this is no different than counting calories…you’re still counting and tracking something), and the cycle continues. Your “cheat day” is likely kicking you out of your actual deficit and you’re not fully working on your goals.

Sure, I started with some pretty heavy hitting topics but if you’re reading this you’re likely able to think for yourself and deduct that some research is needed to figure out what your goals are, why they’re important, and what needs to happen to make them happen. Seriously, WHY DO YOU WANT TO ACOMPLISH X. Why do you want to lose 10 lbs? Now, before you attempt to burn me down for daring to interrupt your internal critic think about it. What is your reason? Do you think you’ll be happier? Will losing weight help you feel validated? Important? Needed and or wanted? If you refer back to my last blog post you’ll see that we discussed cellulite and how a magazine threw women into a tangent over their cellulite and “how to get rid of it.” But prior to that, it wasn’t really a social issue. The point here is that our ideas (of both our self and others) are not isolated thoughts that have come out of nowhere. Most of these opinions are driven by social interactions, learned experiences, and through a process of internal dialogue that often begets cognitive dissonance we form our opinions on x topic.

So, how do we unpack our biases and go after our goals at the same time?

• Recognize that your goals are valid but ask why it’s important to you. Is your goal performance based? Health Based? Aesthetic based? What is your motive behind it? What drives you to pursue it?
• Understand that your perception of other people is really a perception of yourself. What you can’t *stand* about someone you don’t know might just be a projection of something you fear or resent. Try to break that down. Why do resent fat people? And why are you so quick to covet the bikini competitor as a pinnacle of health all while they’re on SARMS, ANAVAR, and other PED’s to maintain their look year round.
• Once you’ve broken down what you want, why you want it, and how you’re going to get it ask yourself how you’re going to go after these goals in a safe way.
  • For the love of whomever you pray to STOP WITH THE FAT BURNERS, THE WAIST TRAINERS, AND THE DETOX TEAS PLEASE. These are all a waste of money.

In the next piece I’ll be covering where the obsession of thinness and how it interject with race but for now, let me know what you think, what you may have struggled with while reading this, and remember everyone, E V E R Y O N E, has a place in the gym. Be kind.

Signing Off,

              LP

When looking at the ideological and generational gap between Boomers and Millennial’s we can see huge shifts in what was sought after, especially in women (womxn): The shift in aesthetic from Twiggy to Meg Thee Stallion; the longing for thinness v “thick” (we can have an entirely different conversation about the appropriation of AAVE (thicc), Hip Hop, and Black culture for pop culture consumption), familial ideological shifts, and how we define success. Now, I could write an entire PhD thesis on this topic however, I wanted to highlight 1968, Vogue, and the creation (yes, creation) of the word Cellulite and its entrance into mainstream lexicon. Why? Because it’s 2020 and women are still caught up in the ploy of cellulite.

              First, let’s define what cellulite is: “deposits of subcutaneous fat within fibrous connective tissue (as in the thighs, hips, and buttocks) that give a puckered and dimpled appearance to the skin surface.”  Thank you, Websters Dictionary. Interestingly enough, this word didn’t exist until 1968 and there is no documentation of cellulite as a social phenomenon until then. Taking us back to that blasted year, in April 1968, Vogue became the first English-language periodical to print the term “cellulite,” engendering both a new word and a fashionable new way for American women to hate their bodies. Since we’ve just passed the 52nd anniversary of this massive editorial gaffe, we’re going to have a quick trip down this cursed memory lane to tell the tale of how cellulite came to be the engineered nightmare that it is. And this nightmare, of course, starts in France (Kelsey Miller did an amazing write up of this in Refinery 29 so, I am quoting her work below):

In 1873, doctors Émile Littré and Charles-Philippe Robin included the word “cellulite” in the 12th edition of the Dictionnaire de Médecine. This was the first-known use of the term, according to Professor Rossella Ghigi, whose thesis on the history of cellulite is arguably the most in-depth resource ever written on the subject. The crucial point, however, is that the original (and accurate) definition of cellulite had nothing to do with dimples or fat. Rather, it was a general term applied to cells or tissues in a state of inflammation or infection. It was closely related to cellulitis, a diagnosis still used today (which also has nothing to do with bumpy buttocks), and was primarily used when referring to pelvic infections.

Do you see where I bolded out the text? Do ya? Cause…the OG definition of cellulite has nothing, zero, zilch to do with our twisted connotation of cellulite today. Now, I would LOVE (and I mean L O V E) to delve into the details of how WWII, the military industrial complex, and the shifting dynamics of our nations workforce (ie., women in factories, working outside of the home, etc) all played a role in the change of social (and bodily) norms for women. To save you the dissertation, the culmination of these things led to a shift of what was deemed ‘desirable’ and thus, the days of body fat being tied to prosperity and social standing were gone. In fact, we (I) could argue that the epicenter of lipophobia (fatphobia) was born out of this era.

              So, let’s answer the questions that most women have about cellulite:

• Why does cellulite seem to be more prevalent in (cis)women then (cis)men?

Well, because it is. Although men experience cellulite much less frequently, at least 10 percent of them have it, too. “Men have fibrous bands that run more parallel with the skin surface,” says Lisa Donofrio, M.D., a board-certified dermatologist and Associate Clinical Professor at the Yale University School of Medicine. “Women have bands that run perpendicular, thus causing the telltale dimpling.”

• Can you “cure” cellulite?

No.  The prevalence of visible cellulite on a body is entirely up to genetics. Companies that have     marketed their products as a “cure” have been successfully sued.

1. There is nothing to cure.
2. Cellulite is not a disease.
3. There is nothing to cure.

• Can you reduce the appearance of cellulite?

In some cases, you can reduce the appearance of cellulite by decreasing body fat and increasing your lean body mass (also known as body recomposition). But, like all good things, this is not a quick process and is greatly dependent upon your individual genetic make-up.

To conclude, of all the things in the world that we can (and should) worry about, cellulite is not one of them. Having cellulite just makes your human. It doesn’t make you less worthy of love, of affection, and if someone has something negative to say about how your body shows up in this world…send them my way.

Stay healthy ya’ll,

Your Friendly Neighborhood Soldierfit

With everyone posting their success stories with #Reboot, I wanted to share the inspiration for the entire program. While many of you know, I ruptured L4/L5/S1 in 2013 during a training exercise. My entire life shifted with that injury. My career aspirations, my goals, my mobility, and at 21 I found myself needing help to get dressed, put my shoes on, and navigate my life with chronic pain.

A surgeon from Johns Hopkins refused to operate on me. The distinct memory of an almost emaciated version of myself sitting on the table is etched behind my eyelids. I can feel all of the pain, the fear, and the oncoming wave of nausea that would slam me like a Monday night WWE when the doctor tells me that an operation would likely fail and end up with me being in a wheelchair. At that point, there was no hope. I was medically discharged from the Army, and I was devastated.

The memory, or thought, of the fight back is one that I purposely ignore. The feelings of anguish, depression, and hollowness are still fresh; everything the 21-year-old version of myself felt I can still feel. It took two, almost three, years to regain my mobility and it took another three years to finally be pain-free from the initial rupture.

Today I stumbled across a video of me first learning how to snatch.

It.

Is.

Ugly.

But even though I had just avoided, narrowly, decapitating myself in the process, a Cheshire cat sized smile splits across my face once I stood up. I DID it! How fucking cool?!  Do you know how proud I am of that? Not just the snatch, but all the shit I waded through to get here? If that little, scared-shitless, but slightly optimistic 21-year-old hadn’t shown up I wouldn’t be here. This job, this program, this life wouldn’t fucking have happened. And I am so grateful.

The photo below is of me post-rupture to now. Know that I post it with trepidation, because this is a project that I developed (along side Danny) with all my damn soul. I wanted this program to be a #Reboot. I wanted people to be able to have the tools to crawl, and fight, their way out of the darkness. The programming is meant to push you, the stipulations are meant to set new parameters for your life, the coaching is there to guide you in your emotional, mental, and physical endeavors. It will take all of you. It will require you to call yourself out on your bullshit and it will require you to step into the next version of yourself.

It was never about weightloss.

It was about rebirth.

It was about forging new paths.

I truly believe that my current situation is the result of luck, hardheadedness, and putting my head down when shit was heavy. Back then, there was no other option for me. I HAD to succeed. And I want that for you too (without the injury and heartache of course). If you’re interested in seeing what we developed, my link is below:

https://soldierfitreboot.com/optin34735052?affiliate_id=2340390

              After finishing up with two virtual PT sessions this morning, I happened to stumble across a video of me first learning how to snatch from five years ago. It. Is. Ugly. But even though I narrowly avoided decapitating myself in the process, a Cheshire cat sized smile splits across my face once I stood up. I DID it! How fucking cool?! Way to go baby Lauren; the future Lauren is proud of you for showing up and giving it a go (because I wouldn’t be here, where I’m at now, if you (I) hadn’t).

              How often do we look back and give ourselves credit? How often do we take a second to reassess and realize that while we might feel like we’re drowning right now, we’re better for the struggle? Right now, the world is upended in panic. Financial panic, emotional panic, mental panic and familial panic…it’s a fucking lot. But for a good chunk of us, this isn’t the worst thing we’ve been through (and if it is, welcome to the fuckin’ club). Sure, I’m stressed the hell out about finances (“how the fuck is rent getting paid” is a common theme in my brain) but I can walk this year, I can get myself up stairs without assistance, and a slew of other shit that I couldn’t do 6 years ago. Now, that is not discounting my (or your) current fears, apprehension, or panic. This is just a moment of gratitude for my brain allowing me to be present in the small, joyful things right now.

              So, I’m going to ride this rare wave of so-called “Feel Good” and continue on with gratitude: my coffee was spot on, my clients killed it this week, I finally got a roommate (blessings be), and despite all the moments that have added up to this morning’s little spurt of happiness, last night, I got low. I went to bed sad, disheartened, and I definitely cried myself to sleep. So, let me reiterate this for anyone struggling… it is o-fucking-kay to struggle, to cry, to rage and to find moments of quietness that allow you to come back to yourself. If it’s a facemask and bubble bath, screaming, singing something that shakes your very soul and rips through the fibers of emotional shield you tried to carefully to put up…whatever it is. I am imploring you to do something for you today, like I have before.

              I’m hoping that when we look back this COVID era will be a moment that we’re grateful that we showed up, that we survived, that we walked through this time period with grace, grit, and patience. While we might feel like the image below, I’m holding steadfast to the idea that “it can’t be like this forever.”

              So, what were those moments for you? The moments where you were sure you wouldn’t survive but did. The lesson that almost killed you, but now you can think of it with appreciation.  If you got through those moments, how do you see yourself at the end of COVID? Where will you be?

(Now, a note: I am well aware that this is an incredibly privileged piece of word-vomit. Domestics are up, there are people stuck at home in un-safe environments, and the world literally feels like it’s burning. I’ve provided links below for hotlines that you can call, unfortunately that is all I can do from afar. But, there are people here who care, love, and want to help.

Links:

Text HOME to 741741 to reach a Crisis Counselor

https://www.crisistextline.org/text-us/?msclkid=c5bf2879163b1f7779c776e0c57479c8

https://www.crisistextline.org/topics/suicide/?msclkid=bc49bfdf561c1b030ddde14685b1ddb6

Welp, the inevitable finally happened (albeit, a bit late). If you’re stressing the hell out about what you’re going to do I’ve pulled some resources for you (meaning, the links are at the bottom of the page so you can easily get to them).

Positives? Well, for one, staying ya ass at home will hopefully flatten the curve, shorten the time you are locked inside with people you hopefully like, tolerate, or love, AND it will decrease the spread of the virus. While Maryland has seemingly been on top of this, the rest of the nation has not. To this list we can add: not dying, breathing well and unassisted, increased rest, and snacks. Snacks are always a positive.

Negatives? Well, for a good chunk of the country we are living paycheck-to-paycheck. So, when you hoarder wannabe’s decide to clear Giant out of soap, TP, and protein sources you are flashing your socio-economic privilege and leaving those who are not as blessed with nothing. This population includes those on WIC, the elderly, single-parents, etc. Because let’s face it, financial literacy and wealth isn’t something that everyone has access to.

Now, because this apparently needs to be said, you do not have to be productive right now. There is not a ‘right’ way to survive a pandemic, especially with children or elderly people relying on you for survival. That means: the laundry piling up will not kill you, the kids watching TV more than normal isn’t going to melt their brains, and if you feed them ice cream for breakfast- so be it. Now, this is not me saying that you need to throw your routine to the birds. Personally, I find a routine helpful right now. It gives me some semblance of normalcy so I’m not sitting in my house, alone with Boots the cat, anxious about “what the fuck am I going to do?!?” I’m still getting up at 6 am. Why? I find the morning significantly less stressful than the evenings and I know that by sundown I’m fried and in-need of time to shut my brain off. Getting up at 6 am allows me to train my clients remotely, enjoy my coffee, actually read like the adult I should be, workout, all before I jump into my actual job. This, for me, is super important. I need to start my day by pouring into myself (and checking-in with myself) before I can pour into my staff, my members, manage the Around the Barracks FaceBook group, check-in on the app and the members, write new programming, write a blog post, come up with content, AND consistently be ready to pivot at the drop of a hat because this is a pandemic and shit happens.

No matter how you choose to navigate your space right now, I hope you find some time to give yourself attention, re-center, and be able to have a conversation with yourself that you really are doing your best. We all are. I would encourage you to find ways to virtually connect with people. I personally have a “coffee-date” with friends every morning to check-in and have some actual conversation. This for me, keeps me from feeling disconnected. What you need right now isn’t selfish, it’s survival.

            So, with that being said I’m going to let you get back to your life (and please, shut off the news and close down IG and FB for an hour. Give yourself a social media break). A synopsis of the announcement is below.

Signed,

Your Friendly Neighborhood Soldierfit Who REALLY Can’t Wait To See You All On The Turf

https://www.wbaltv.com/article/coronavirus-pandemic-maryland-stay-home-directive/31977340?fbclid=IwAR2T6xteKVjn_Y2sEt–g4DRJxLzdIReA0HqgBJVBszWorpCtM8XSHt_ZFk#

If you’re like me and the news / media spin of the coronavirus has your head spinning and anxiety spiking, I feel you. It’s 10:41 pm, 5-hours and 41 minutes after all gyms were forced to shut down, and I still feel sick to my stomach.

Why? I’m worried about my staff, how they’ll get paid, how their families are doing, how are they dealing with this emotionally, mentally, and physically? I’m wondering how the hell I’m going to handle 2-weeks off (for the love of whatever is actually in charge of this floating rock in space, please do not make it more than that), and how the hell I’m going to pay bills. Bottom line, it’s the same concern that everyone else has.  

So, check-in with me: how are you doing? How are you holding up, truly (don’t give me the bs answer you give your mom when she calls but you know damn-well that the pantry is empty)? How are the people in your life? Are they checking-in? Do you feel supported? Are you practicing boundaries and taking care of your emotional energy during this time?

It is so easy to nurse away the fear and anxiety in our day-to-day lives. We can bury ourselves in work, partners, or become so emotionally closed-off that we lack depth. This is not the time to fall into old patterns of coping. Despite how horrendously scary this time is, you have just that – time. Time to spend on you. What emotional tasks have you put off catering to ‘productivity?’ Have you neglected a loved one? Have you refused to speak your truth because ‘the timing wasn’t right?’ How have you failed to show up for yourself in your life?

Don’t rush to answer those questions. Maybe it’s incredibly apparent. Maybe you need to sit with it. Either way, we are in a shitty predicament where we have nothing but time; now we must cleanse the wounds you’ve failed to deal with…cause, whichever band-aid method you’ve chosen doesn’t cut it. My band-aide of choice? Productivity. I am the capitalist system’s dream child. I love to be ‘productive’ and stay busy.  And would you look at that, what don’t I have access to right now? The gym and my job. Fuck.

Here’s the thing, as painful as it is to deal with our shit, maybe this is the perfect call out. We’ve been forced to standstill, and now you need to look at your life and own up for your shit. No, you weren’t too busy with work to talk to your wife, you didn’t want to. Your kid isn’t a shit, you just haven’t shown up for them in their day-to-day because ‘work.’ With the guise of ‘busy’ ripped off capitalist mantle we are now forced to look at our lives differently.

Aside from the questions poised above, which I truly hope you take the time to answer, how are you going to show up for yourself in this down-time? How are you going to show up for those you love? I don’t have any answers. Really. I can only help ya’ll by providing workouts and some tips to staying sane. I’m a conduit for stress-relief, of sorts. I wish I could be helpful, guys Truly. The last thing I have to say is that when your anxiety spikes and you feel like it is going to crash into you like gigantic, life-crushing, wave…remember that your thoughts are not always reality. Your inner voice isn’t God, and quite frankly our inner voice needs to shut the hell up most days. Your feelings, your fear, your anxiety is valid…but this is systemic. These feelings are not sitting squarely on your shoulders, this is not a burden for you alone. When you start to feel like drowning is inevitable, reach out. If nothing else, I’m here and can chat you out of the deep end (I’d offer coffee but social distancing…).

Try to remember: You are seen. You are valid. You are doing a great job.

(parents, please don’t stress out about the kids right now. There is no ‘right’ way to parent in a pandemic. Don’t stress screen time, or snack choice, parent with grace [for yourself]. The kids are fine.)

Signing off,

Your Friendly Neighborhood Soldierfit

I think we tend to shut ourselves down.

Have you ever had an idea that really made you excited? An idea that ignited a glimmer of hope only to have it fanned away by self-doubt or the shadow of doubt from others?

In the day and age of social media, and instant gratification, it’s hard to not feel bombarded by the success of others.

Your favorite Instagram personality is uploading photos of their latest trip to Ibiza, showcasing their amazing physique, while their model-esq partner looks like they were carved by Michelangelo himself. Meanwhile, you *I* am three coffee-cups (because what responsible adult uses a bowl) deep into pint of ice cream you told yourself you weren’t going to eat.

What we need to get better at is recognizing: that someone else’s success doesn’t mean you’re *I’m* a failure.

Maybe you chose to go to college, maybe you didn’t, maybe you decided to cover yourself in gorgeous art mimicking the ceilings of the Sistine Chapel (this is what I tell my parents about my tattoos. Can you imagine an Italian Father buying this? Yeah, neither can I. But I digress…). The point is, no matter what you choose to do, or not do, has absolutely zero to do with your self-worth.

Productivity does not equal value, ever.

Ever.

Read that three-million more times until your reptilian brain accepts it as truth.

You, as you are now, are valuable beyond measure. And I WANT to hear about your accomplishments, I want to share in that joy. Shit, you know how motivating that is when I see someone on top of the world, feeling fulfilled by themselves?!? SO SO SO MOTIVATING. It’s not “too much” (also, let’s stop saying this, there is no such thing as ‘too much’ joy. Just like there is no such thing as ‘too many cookies’).

So, while this is a shorter excerpt, I wanted to take a moment to implore you to revel in your accomplishments. Did you allow yourself to love? To open up? Did you manage to secure an awesome job? Or decide to leave your 9-5 to pursue your passion? Tell me, I want to know (even you presume it’s “small.” I promise you, a win is a win).

                 Nothing you experience is new to humankind. Every ounce of emotion has been felt, every pang of fear has been dealt with, and amazingly enough, we have survived it in some capacity. In the day and age of social media, it can be easy to get caught up in the lives of the Instagram couple who takes endless vacations with a picturesque life. Or, you follow these amazing people who seem to share their highs and lows effortlessly (and painlessly). Despite the monumental amount of resources we have available to us, we still need one thing: Connection. 

We all have struggles, but our stories give space to those who might be struggling with trials and tribulations we have already trekked against. Our story could prepare them. However, in true Lauren fashion, in the middle of typing this out, I realized I haven’t been forthcoming with my own story. Truthfully, it’s painful. I am an expert at deflecting emotion while wielding productivity like a shield. This week, however, I had that shield ripped off and I have been staring at this screen for the last 6-hours trying to navigate how to share this. 

Earlier this month I got to see someone whom I haven’t seen in five years. To paint the picture of why this was so mind-blowing for me, the last time I saw this individual I weighed 118lbs, was less than a year off a fully ruptured L4/L5/S1 and was regularly struggling to stand and walk. When they walked in memories of them having to carry me up-stairs and pick me out of my car when I was too numb to move crashed into me like a wave. Without skipping a beat, we picked up with the general small talk, but I was left reeling. 

                 For some, perceived tragedy gets etched into their eyelids, a visceral photo that they can never escape. It affects and shapes their actions: how they move, what they do, how they relate. How they operate now shifts to reflect, or project, pain.  

The morning I ruptured my back (L4/L5, L5/S1) I was doing sprints and 100 meters into the first lane I collapsed. All I knew was I was in tremendous pain, breathing hurt like hell, and I couldn’t get off the track. 

              I would later be medically disqualified from my commission. While that sounds cut and dry, the devastation was the appetizer to the aftermath I ended up having to swallow. Walking was difficult, I could barely get my socks on, and the career I had worked so hard to cultivate washed down the drain with a single letter from a surgeon. I was crushed. My recovery was sprinkled with attempts at reclaiming my identity: there was a bodybuilding show, three jobs (one in which I was fired from), and the introduction to powerlifting. The last one saved me. While this paragraph may paint a picture of a short stint of injury and rehab this endeavor was five years in the making. At one point a surgeon refused to operate on me because it “will end up with you being wheelchair-bound.” At 21, my world felt like it was collapsing in.

                 Now, I wouldn’t wish that pit of pain on anyone, and nothing about my recovery process was easy, but that rupture led me to a sport that would change and challenge my mindset, a career that I am blessed to be a part of, the ability to compete at a national level in powerlifting, etc. My world (at the time) shattered, but standing back, the scarred pieces of the puzzle look better than I could have ever imagined. I don’t let myself think about what happened, or how, because I haven’t done the emotional work to unpack the feelings of worthlessness and self-loathing I buried when I was trying to survive. I don’t believe I’ve done anything amazing, truly. Somedays I simply existed, and at that moment that was a serious win. If nothing else, I’m fucking lucky. If one person hadn’t been there when I was putting this puzzle back together, I may not have made it. The friend who didn’t let me feel ashamed about getting carried up the stairs, the battles (“battle buddies” for the civies) who helped me put on my shoes in the winter, the physical therapist who took the time to explain that pain was psychosomatic and I could live without pain, the coaches and mentors who worked with me to move my broken body in a way that could be meaningful for me… all of it changed my life.  

                 It’s important to share the journey. People need to know that the façade or presentation of the ‘now’ isn’t what it seems. I had someone tell me that they “wanted to look like me” and no shit 5-seconds afterward a man walked into my workplace that had seen me at my worst, had picked me up off the floor of his house because I couldn’t get myself up, and was now seeing me in my best. I am overwhelmed writing this, the gravity of that struggle is often lost on me because I bury myself under the guise of productivity. So, before I sign off this rambling mess; you are so worthy. Of love, of kindness, of validation…regardless of how you look, present, or live. And if no one has told you recently, I am telling you now. 

                 Sharing your story permits people to struggle, to grieve, to fight. Sharing your story reminds us that we’re connected: in the struggle, in the joy, and in every step of our life we are surrounded by those who can lift us up. If you have no one, my doors are always open. 

“We Rise By Lifting Others” – Robert Ingersoll

Day One? Or One Day?

Yes, I know it seems like this should probably wait for some cyclical holiday signaling renewal and fresh starts but waiting for some signal to ‘go’ makes as much sense as waiting to start on conquering your goals. This isn’t going to be a long-drawn out conversation, because truthfully, you’ve read this a hundred times, heard some variation of this from 190 friends, and ignored this from your parents 9,999 times. This isn’t a new conversation, but if you’re reading this, you’re probably looking for some form of intrinsic motivation.

So, how do you take the first step? Well, deciding is a good place to start but the hardest step is acting upon it. What is your plan of action?

              When setting your goals for the next phase here are some tips to keep in mind:

1. Make sure your goals are SMART (Smart, Measurable, Attainable, Reasonable, and Time-bound).
2. Support is imperative. When you set out to change x, y, and z you’re going to run into speed bumps. Having a solid support system in your corner is vital to your long-term success.
3. Set mini goals to keep you on track (this week you’ll walk 1 mile a day, you’ll eat a vegetable at every meal, you’ll swap out 5 of your 10 cups of coffee for an actual glass of water.

See? Amazing hunny. Look at you! Changing your habits, one day at a time! This is a huge issue in most goal setting processes. People look 10 years down the road and forget that “it’s not the mountain that’ll get you, it’s the pebble in your shoe.”

Meaning?

 You must address yourself right where you’re at in this present moment. Look at the variables that you have complete control over; sleep, water intake, stress levels, your food (yes, you can control this), and your activity levels. Read that again. Did I mention anything about exercise? No. Exercise is important but if you’re not drinking adequate amounts of water, sleeping more than 4 hours a night, and you’re the walking personification of Mt. Vesuvius, you’ve got to deal with yourself first.

Unfortunately, there is truth in “you can’t outrun a bad diet.” But really it should read as “you can’t outrun a bad diet, poor sleep patterns, dehydration, chronic stress, and mounting self-imposed pressure.”

The trick to success? Start with one thing (side bar: if you haven’t read the Compound Effect, I highly suggest you do.) and do it every day. Maybe you and your partner decide to walk one mile every evening instead of practicing your favorite pastime of deep couch sitting while zoning out watching late night TV. Over the course of a year, give or take a few days off, you will have walked 350 miles. That will put a huge dent in your goal of weight-loss, raising activity levels, and spending quality time with the love of your life. Is walking one mile an evening manageable? Yes. Is it Attainable? Yes. Is it time-bound? Yes. Is it realistic? Yes.

Now, let’s extrapolate that to other realms of your life. Maybe a month into your one mile a day journey you add in the goal of cutting back on some dietary excess. You decide that you’re going to cook at home 4x a week. In addition to saving money from eating out, you’ve also cut back on unnecessary calories (FYI the FDA only requires restaurants/labels to be within 25% of the actual nutrient content of their menu – so, have fun doing the math on that one), add that to your daily walk and all of a sudden you’ve taken your self from a caloric surplus to a deficit. All while managing the smaller pieces of the puzzle!

Whatever your goal is: get started today. People will plan for ‘tomorrow’, ‘Monday’, or “One Day” but the issue is, if you’re constantly waiting on “one day” you’ll never actually move.

Signing off,

Your Friendly Neighborhood Soldierfit