Random

After four pregnancies and ending with twins, baby weight is a real thing. In my head I can bound up my stairs two at a time but when I try, my legs laugh at me. Or if I am chasing Olivia, she can actually outrun me because my body just won’t move quickly enough. It would be nice to be more fit. To be able to hop up on a curb just using leg muscle and not have to throw all my weight so momentum carries me.

After Teresa, I decided to really get serious about losing some weight. I got a personal trainer, started going to cardio classes, started a 10K training program and started working out on my own at home. This was my inner dialogue one night when I didn’t want to do anything:

“Damn. I missed the Piloxing class I wanted to go to tonight. Ugh. I just wanted someone to make me work hard, now I have to make myself work hard.

It’s the thought that counts. I wanted to work out but I guess not.

No, I have to work out. I skipped it yesterday. I can’t skip two days in a row.

Nah. I don’t want to. I already worked out one day this week. That’s better than the week before. Baby steps. You can’t go from zero to hero in a week.

Just get some exercise clothes on. Just do that.

Eh.

Ok, just get up off the sofa and start walking up the stairs, then you can decide.

The workout clothes I like isn’t clean. This is a sign. I shouldn’t work out.

Just put on some clothes.

Ok, I’ll just lift weights for 15 minutes. I don’t really need to get dressed for that.

Vanessa, just get dressed!

Ok, fine. *gets dressed*

Crap, isn’t it cold outside? I’m wearing shorts and a short-sleeve top. I should change.

I don’t want to change. I just won’t workout.

Vanessa, just get downstairs!

Ok, I’ll just do some planks or something.

No, get out the door. Run.

It’s 50 degrees out! I’m not going to run in these clothes.

Just get out the door!

Ok, just around the block.

Shit, it’s cold. Run faster. Get this over with faster.

Ok, this feels good, just to the pool and back.

*runs a mile* Well, my heart rate is up, I should do something else to keep burning the calories. I’ll just work arms.

*arms done* Ok, I’ll workout just until 8:15 and then I’ll stop.

*got some core exercises in and started legs* Well, I’m almost done with the whole workout, I might as well keep going. But I’ll definitely stop at 8:30.”

And then I finished a whole workout.

I’m feeling pretty darn proud of myself even if my inner dialogue was tortured and pathetic throughout the whole night. Thank you, War of Art. The whole time I kept thinking. This is resistance. This is resistance. This is resistance. I have to fight it.

It helps for me to remember back then, even when I was more fit, even when I weighed less, even when I had developed a workout routine I loved, it was still really hard to make myself workout. I still had to work past my tiredness and my desire to remain sedentary. I still had to ignore everything in my mind telling me I shouldn’t: too cold, too hot, too late, I’m too full, I’m too tired, my knees don’t feel the best, my stomach kinda hurts, it’s been a hard day. My excuses never go away, I just have to push past them.

[Also, please excuse that I thought running in 50 degree weather was too cold. Remember, we’re Texans.]

This weekend we had a friend and her son over for dinner. As I worked on a curry veggie soup, she rolled out naan and cooked it in a skillet. The kids all ran around together. Brandon’s mom was in town and she sat at the island chatting with us as we cooked. So did Brandon as he kept an eye on the kiddos. It was a perfect multigenerational, multi-family scene. Then we all sat down to a nice relaxed dinner and conversation. It was soooo nice (despite Lina not eating one bite and Teresa’s bowl ending up on the floor). But later when I was reflecting on the evening, what made it so nice was the feeling that we each, each family, needed the other. I made one thing, she made the other. She asked us for advice and we asked her for advice.

So often, especially after being married with kids, we feel like we have to put the perfect face on when we go out. Even with our friends. And so many times we feel like we’re in this alone, we can’t ask for help because we don’t want to impose on anyone.

But it feels so good to genuinely be of use to another person. We babysat for half an hour for a friend who lives down the street. It was only thirty minutes but she thanked us profusely. It was so great that we could be of service. That someone trusted us enough to think we could help.

Sometimes I see people struggling (and maybe they don’t even realize they’re struggling, maybe they think this is just how life is) and I want so badly to beg them to let us help. Or maybe I can’t help and all I can do is sit there and drink a glass of wine with them while they vent. But I like wine and I like listening. Not because I want to save them. Not because I think I know so much better than them. Not because I think they can’t figure it out. But because I love them and want to be part of their life. What I could offer might just help the tiniest bit but I have found that most times people just need one break, one little moment of relief, one word and everything falls into place. But we have to be open to it for it to do any good.

It reminds me of this scene in the West Wing where Leo helps out Josh:

This guy’s walking down the street when he falls in a hole. The walls are so steep he can’t get out. A doctor passes by and the guy shouts up, ‘Hey you. Can you help me out?’ The doctor writes a prescription, throws it down in the hole and moves on. Then a priest comes along and the guy shouts up, ‘Father, I’m down in this hole can you help me out?’ The priest writes out a prayer, throws it down in the hole and moves on. Then a friend walks by, ‘Hey, Joe, it’s me can you help me out?’ And the friend jumps in the hole. Our guy says, ‘Are you stupid? Now we’re both down here.’ The friend says, ‘Yeah, but I’ve been down here before and I know the way out.’

Maybe people see us and think the same thing. I’m as guilty as the next person of not wanting to reach out when we are struggling. Usually when we’re struggling, we close up, take ourselves out of the world and buckle down trying to work our way through on our own. How silly. God gave us each other for a reason. Not just to hear about the highlights of each other’s life but to be there for all of it. For the not-so-hard-but-still-a-trial stuff, for the messy stuff, for the gut-wrenchingly difficult stuff. When we feel like we need to pull back from friends, that’s probably the time that we need to lean in to them.

But what I think made this evening so great was that real community doesn’t just take turns saving one another (although if it happens like that its totally fine) but rather walks alongside each other and works through things together. I hadn’t finished cooking the soup when they got here and she hadn’t finished the naan at home so she brought over the dough. And we finished the meal together. That’s what friends are for. That’s what community is for.