im beginning to lean toward changing this blog or just starting a new one focused at health and wellness. Though going through grief opened up this new love of helping others, taking care of myself, and trying different avenues of fitness. I don’t think I’m an expert by any means. I think I have more to contribute to an arena like that than continuing the course of this blog.
ive been asked several times if I want to do a figure transformation and possible do a figure competition. I’ve said no, but I also like stretching my body and pushing it to places and levels it’s never gone before. As I’ve continued with circuits, and boot camp style workouts I’m beginning to think I can achieve that physique that is so elusive. I dropped 50lbs after George passed away, maybe I’ll look to drop my body composition to less than 12% fat. Still humming and hawing but beginning to lean tilt toward possibly trying.
For the past month I’ve been having a difficult time falling asleep without using melatonin or other sleep supplements. So as I type this I’m laying in bed at 1a waiting for them to kick in. I’m sure I’ll be extremely tired and irritable tomorrow. Coffee will be my savior, and I shall drink several cups guaranteed.
Today I was invited to try a new gym in Montgomery and see if I like the boot camp style. I’ve done boot camp classes before but this one was a bit different and was mentally very tough and the workout varied. So it wasn’t as aggravating as other boot camp style workouts I’ve done in the past. I was asked if I’d like to teach one a week at a super early time slot. It’s under consideration. I have to say, I love love love teaching and coaching fitness. It truly is my calling and seeing how hard people work and get the results they’re looking for swell my heart.
But that’s not the point of this post. The workout was tough and many times I wanted to stop but kept pushing through. I did the workout with my new assistant coach, and she too was feeling beaten down by the exercises. But we both sweated our butts off and we completed it. She mentioned how she was impressed how quickly I got through it and would complete an exercise and move on to the next station. I was impressed with her resilience and ability to adjust, and not quit. I loved that actually, she just didn’t quit until she finished. I think my players will really admire that about her too because this day and age it’s rare to have. But I sat and thought about her words and my mind set during the work out.
the physical pain of any workout can never match the emotional pain I’ve been through. I don’t focus on how bad I hurt during an exercise, I just look forward to when it will be done. Sort of like grief, I always wanted the next day to come hoping it would be better. With working out, I will never skip a rep or compromise my form, because it will be over and I control it. With losing George, I was out of control. Losing him has continued to fuel me and has forced a different midset as I venture into every day life. Part of my every day is exercise and fitness. He’s shaped my work ethic and how I approach it. He’s like my motor. It’s pretty cool when you sit down and really think about it.
On Friday I got dolled up and headed out. I grabbed a purse that I don’t use tremendously often but I did year ago when I first got it. My sister gifted me a George Gina and Lucy purse in 2009 and I remember being so excited for it. I would carry that thing everywhere. George would comment about how it’s in my favorite color purple.
Before I headed out, I checked all the pockets to see if there’s any old receipts or trash. There were some old coffee and metro receipts, and I think one movie ticket. But then I dug deeper into the front pocket and pulled out a buckeye. Hard little round nugget with a darkened slit that looks like an eye. I remember walking past Rockefellars grave in the Cleveland cemetery and George picking up the buckeye. He handed it to me, grinning, and reminding me how the nut looks like a bucks eye. I dropped it in my purse to remember our trip to his hometown of Bay Village, just outside Cleveland.
Today I found a towel I used when we lived together in Jersey City. I pushed my face into it and it smelled like George. His scent stung in my nostrils and my heart swelled. But then it cracked like a glass in boiling water. It was too much.
I’m my harshest critic. I over analyze how I react, how I look, my behavior, everything. I’m unforgiving to myself when I know I’ve made a mistake, and this summer I feel like I’ve made several. But my counselor tells me I can’t be so hard on myself. I need to learn to be gentle. Understand that mistakes are all a part of living and growing. I like to think I have high expectations, but then the question came of are they high or unrealistic?
It’s hot here in Alabama. Almost unbearable. I take a shower and go outside and begin sweating almost immediately. It’s that time of year when Im trapped inside and I feel like a slug. Last year when I moved to Bama at this time I could barely run a mile in this humidity. The heat was oppressive and I felt terrible about my fitness level and then I started thinking all my hard work was unraveling. Turned out it is really hard to run in humidity. But those feelings are creeping back even though I know it’s just humidity getting to me. But I’ve started adopting other indoor forms of fitness and I’m feeling pretty good. Fitness certainly helps balance my emotions, and gives me a feeling of worth. It’s my thing and I’m good at it and I love the results. So lately I’ve been doing the stair stepper, lifting 2-3 times a week and I recently started doing the kettlebell AMPD classes I was certified for back in April.
Im not comfortable with the Kettlebell AMPD structure, but im having a lot of fun learning and getting better at it. It’s a format very different from teaching indoor cycling, but I feel like it’s making me more aware, focused and a better instructor. Being uncomfortable is forcing me to change and become innovative. And I like it. I love how I feel when I figure out a good routine. I’m proud when I complete a good run through. Im also learning more about sculpting and how to target big muscle groups. It’s really fun for me to be learning. And I feel it’s permeating to other parts of my livelihood. Work has been more enjoyable, and I feel like I’ve found a groove. I’m happier as of lately and not feeling so bogged down like I was in the beginning of summer. I’m piecing myself back together and I’m thankful for the support I’ve had. I think the changes in my routine in the gym has contributed to my mood as well. The grief tore me down for a bit, but I kept pressing on and found clearer skies. I just need to be gentle to myself and remind myself how far I’ve come. I also can’t wait for October weather to get here.
Today is George’s birthday. I’m feeling his absence a lot today. There’s this hollowness inside me I can’t fill. It’s almost like his death is very real today, which is odd because I know he’s not coming back. But I can’t explain it. I feel very off and sad. This morning I watched a video we had made when we used to blog, and it made me so happy to hear his voice, and see him smile. But then it’s gone. I have to search for it if I want to hear it. I allowed my mind to float back in time to when we grabbed a cab to his birthday party in K-town. We had just started dating and it was carefree, wonderful, and fleeting. I was embarrassed by the age difference, but I couldn’t get enough of him. I miss his sense of humor, I miss his lightheartedness, I miss his laughter, I miss his sense of calmness through all the chaos. I miss him so much. But I’m so thankful I got to be with him.
“The interval between the decay of the old and the formation and establishment of the new constitutes a period of transition which must always necessarily be one of uncertainty, confusion, error, and wild and fierce fanaticism.”
College summer recruiting is a necessary evil of my job. I shouldn’t call it an evil, but a necessary means to success. Watch, evaluate, contact potential student athletes and draw them to be interested in your school and grasp the vision you’re trying to establish and create with the program. I’ve spent thousands of hours doing this with sometimes great results and other years flipping over every rock possible. The summers I spent going to tournaments, camps, writing emails until 2 in the morning, the moment George passed away it filled me with so much regret. Hours spent chasing players and not spending with him. Unfocused while we’re together because I’m texting and writing recruits. It filled me with regret for so long, but this summer recruiting has been reinvented. It’s been fun for me!
Almost every weekend I’m traveling to attend showcases and I’m really enjoying the process. It’s been a great distraction for me and I’ve been enjoying meeting new people and interacting with the players. I’m helping growing the sport in Alabama and it’s very fulfilling. I’m happy. I feel like myself again. Rain or shine, it’s good to be looking forward to what I do best. And im so excited for what’s around the corner with my program and my career.
“To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable.”
I got back from New Orleans this evening and this Memorial Day weekend has been nothing short of fantastic. I feel relieved, relaxed and most importantly happy. I had a great time with my friends. And of course when I reconnect I tend to think about those people who have come into my life. All the laughs, experiences shared and how people grow together and separately.
I also think about all the men and women where this holiday weekend is very somber and painful. This post doesn’t really have a lot of point to it, I kind of have been contemplating the reoccurrences of emotional hurt. I went to the WW2 museum in New Orleans and they have telegrams posted to family and spouses saying their sons are missing and cannot be located. It made me feel for those who ventured off to defend their country never to return again. I also ached for the loved ones who received those telegrams. To love someone so much where you feel invisible can also break you down to nothingness. Makes you appreciate the people who impact your life momentarily or those who are in it for the long haul.
“The loneliest moment in someone’s life is when they are watching their whole world fall apart, and all they can do is stare blankly.”
Im spending this Memorial Day weekend in New Orleans. I wrote my graduate school thesis on The Battle of New Orelans so it’s great to be back here 8 years later. I still love reciting the history and folklore of this city. I got to reunite with my HS friends and again wonderful to know how much love and support I have all around. And it makes me appreciate the journey in a weird way.
my friends here are married and they are HS sweethearts. They’ve been together now for 9 years and we were talking about how they’ve grown together as a couple. From braces to wedding bands, and they still appreciate and respect each other deeply. Coincidently this interesting article came out in the NYT which I wanted to post. Im curious for people’s thoughts on it. It’s very pessimistic but having friends be married and then soon divorced I don’t think it’s tremendously off the mark.
“Life is short, live it. Love is rare, grab it. Anger is bad, dump it. Fear is awful, face it. Memories are sweet, cherish it.”
I’m looking at old photos from the past couple years and I’m certainly a survivor. My journey has included a lot of experiences and meeting new people, and I wouldn’t trade it. The road in front of me is clear skies and rocky terrain, but you know what, when Im told I can’t do it and I’m not strong enough, those words echo and transform into coal to move this engine. What happens to coal under extreme amounts of pressure? That’s right. Feed me more doubt, I’ll show you what I can do.
Can you imagine having someone love you so much that even after 2 and a half years they still write about how much they love you? To leave this earth with so much love to carry you on? The love I shared with George propelled me to become a better person. I can confidently say I am more social now than I was when he was alive. I say hello to my neighbors, to strangers, just because a friendly gesture might change their entire day. Just like when people show kindness to me it makes my day that much better. I shouldn’t be ashamed of my grief. But I am.
Grief is love turned inside out. I feel ashamed and weak but I love George. I lost my love once and I recently lost another through an ended relationship, so I can’t help but sit here and be reminded of losing him. I close my eyes and I can see his jaundiced face, but I also try to remember his rosy cheeks and bright blue eyes. His big grin, and his wrinkled forehead, and perfectly shaped eyebrows which I was so envious of. But I remember how he treated me, his words, his touch, and how happy I was with him. I love him so much and my grief is proportioned to how deep the love ran. So much so I continue to write about him, talk about what a wonderful man he was and how he impacted my life. If only we can all be so lucky.
I’ve taken giant leaps forward, but lately I have been taking steps back. But I’m still looking in the direction I want to go. I want to be back on track and continuing to flourish and achieve. I also know people care about me and having me not be my “normal” self is hard to watch. Creates discomfort because I’m not the cheery Julia I usually am. But I come back, I’ve been stringing together lots of happy moments in the day. But I need to grieve. My world became too heavy and I crumbled under the pressure. I fell but I will put one foot forward to get back up again. And because I’ve done this once before I will get back quicker.
I feel weak, but I am not weak. Grief is not a weakness. It’s human nature. If I could suppress this overwhelming feeling of loss, what would separate me from an animal or a machine? I’ll never stop loving him, and he’ll always have a presence in my life. And if carrying that love is frowned upon, then I don’t know. He changed my life. And he still does. If only we all can be so lucky to leave this earth knowing someone loves us immeasurably.