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Operation Move

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personal

When it’s time to stop saying nothing

OperationMove · May 12, 2017 · Leave a Comment

A long while ago, towards the end of my blogging life I just posted photos. It seemed like there was more truth in an image, because words could be interpreted every which-way and end up so far from where you intended them to. But an image, was pure in a final kind of way.

I still do that. Post pictures without words. It’s true because it’s enigmatic and without meaning and it can be interpreted in a million different ways but those interpretations never change the original creative work, it just stands as it is.

Sometimes when you have everything to say, it’s easy to say nothing. And after awhile it becomes impossible to say anything at all. I’ve been talking plenty on the podcast, but I haven’t really written anything in awhile.

Some people will remember this, but back in 2012 I had a severe clinical depressive episode that bordered on psychosis. I don’t really remember much about it, but I do remember not sleeping, like ever. I could sleep for maybe only five minutes at a time and even that was more like dozing than actual sleep. It’s hard to explain what a month of that will do to you.

The brain is broken, and it can’t fix itself. It knows enough to try, but it’s broken so there’s a never-ending loop. A friend of mine on Twitter said to me ‘just daydream’ when I couldn’t sleep. And I did, and it made it easier. And sometimes still when I stare back into the old abyss, I drift still to cope.

I would like to tell the story that it goes away and it never comes back and it makes you stronger somehow, but it doesn’t really it just sensitises you to how vulnerable you are at any given moment. How easy it is to find yourself somewhere that you can’t come back from. And how sometimes it’s easier to be alone with your disease than not.

I haven’t been back there since, but I now know I could and sometimes you feel the edges of it, creeping in. And I’ve felt the edges. And then I’ve been good. And then I’ve touched the edges again.

And I don’t write anything about that for two reasons. One because it’s my normal. And two, because I like the version of myself where I’m a positive person and a person who just gets things done that need to get done a whole lot better. But the not writing it, leaves me with nothing to say about anything else. I get stuck pretty easily there.

Sometimes it’s hard to know where I end and Operation Move begins. And sometimes I find myself holding back for fear of polluting it with my own many imperfections. Which sounds silly, but it’s my nature. To protect things that matter at all costs, even if that cost is a little bit of myself along the way.

I worry about how my current weight loss reflects on the values of body positivity.

I worry when I’m going for an aggressive time goal, if I’m sacrificing inclusion.

I worry that I’m just not good enough to do it justice.

One thing I know for sure though is that fear is okay, but paralysis never did anyone any favours. And being disappointing is still better than being nothing.

Would you keep going if you were never going to improve?

Zoey · February 15, 2017 · Leave a Comment

You know that thing that they say? “You get out what you put in”? Well it’s true, and I’ve said it plenty of times myself, but like most things it’s also not true as well. Have you heard about fitness non-responders? Well it turns out some people are ‘high responders’, some people are ‘moderate responders’ and some people are so called ‘non-responders’. All that means is that if you apply a fitness stimulus (running, biking, rowing or whatever is your exercise of choice) the fitness adaptations people will make will vary greatly. Have you ever noticed how that mate of yours who you started running with got a whole lot faster, a whole lot quicker and wondered why? They are probably a high responder. The idea of the non-responder is something that has been a bit controversial, because logically it just doesn’t seem possible that there is absolutely no change. And a recent study suggests that they aren’t non-responders they just have to work harder than everyone else.

That’s something I know a bit about. I’ve suspected with running I tend to be a bit of a low responder. It takes big hikes in volume and intensity before I see improvements. And because I’m hypermobile, I’ve known that getting stronger is a whole lot harder. Hypermobility isn’t nearly as fun as it sounds and it doesn’t mean you (necessarily) have super stretchy muscles either. What it means is that muscles are tight and ligaments are lax. As a result, movement mechanics are usually not great and it’s really hard to get into stable positioning. So you fatigue more, gaining strength is harder and improvements happen but it’s at snails pace.

And sometimes you know something because you just accept it, but then when it’s spelled out to you it kind of takes you by surprise anyway. I was listening to a podcast with a strength and conditioning coach the other day and he was mentioning things that are almost impossible to deal with in terms of improvements and one of them was hypermobility. It’s not fixable. You don’t really improve. It’s super challenging and any improvements that you do have are hard won and slow. His example was a client of his he had coached for three years and she had maybe added 20kg to her deadlift in those three years. Which sounded pretty familiar. Reality can be a slap in the face like that.

After I was done feeling sorry for myself, it got me to thinking though – if I knew I was never going to improve would I do anything differently? Or if I could improve, but it would take more time and more work would it still be worth it? Is it frustrating to feel like a lost cause? Of course it is. But that’s just where the story starts.

One month later

Zoey · August 28, 2015 · Leave a Comment

long-run-skeleton-trees

So it’s been just about a month now since I’ve been doing this on my own. You think relationships won’t change, but of course they do. Whether you are ready for them to do that or not. I’ve worried over more things (and more people) than I ever have before. I’ve worried over how I spend my time. I’ve worried over if people are getting enough of what they need. I’ve worried over how to be a coach, a marketer, a strategist and an accountant. And in the end I just kind of winged it to see what would work and what wouldn’t.

I’ve looked with sadness over the instagram feed, which is just me. And I’ve looked with pride where something I’ve done has connected with the community. I tried (badly) to balance marathon training and everything else and I’m counting down the weeks until my running commitment is just a little bit less.

I corrected myself every second sentence where I went to write ‘we’ and I had to change it to ‘I’.

I rediscovered a love of Twitter. I found my camera again too.

I accepted that some relationships couldn’t be saved and some new one’s could be made. I found the weight of responsibility was more of a privilege, than a burden.

I made mistakes and then I corrected course.

My passion is empowerment through movement. If I keep focused on that, everything else will fall into place.

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