Right now, I want to quit.

But not the gym!

That is like a new love affair

Almost…

Don’t want to believe I’ve found somewhere I can show up as I am – old, fat, weak, wobbly

People are friendly and encouraging

I want to do the work, as much as i can.

Still new and awkward

Not totally comfortable

Feel silly

That I didn’t do it earlier…

And also feels like a risk that turned out to be a win

The time the money the prioritisation of my need and desire.

This is all a little romantic (limerance – it will wear off for sure)

And I do feel very optimistic that it’s a good fit

So why do I want to quit my other work

Because it’s the other end of the scale for me

Mental. uncertain. Unstructured.  Minimal feedback or encouragement.  Or even company.  And ongoing.

I can make the contact hours but I struggle with the homework.

So if the gym is a winning risk and my other work often feels like losing again and again.

No wonder I want to quit!  Losing is not fun.  It’s lonely and demoralising.

But in my grandfather’s immortal words

Winners laugh, losers please themselves.

Now, when I feel like a loser, I know I’ll be back at the gym soon – because that’s what pleases me.  Where effort is repaid by progress.  Not necessarily linear, but measurable.

So it’s a place to go, for now at least, the uplifts me.   Not exactly when I’m there, but the idea of it.  And the reality is manageable.

Turns out that resistance training is a critical component of menopausal weight management, so lucky I enjoy it, and another reason to go.  Not good enough alone for me, but certainly strong affirmation of serious self care.

I was thinking about this because it’s hard to impossible to take risks when you can’t afford to lose.

What makes losing an option is having people, practices and resources available to hold and encourage you in those low and painful moments.  (Like real learning, real losing hurts)

Essentially, care.    Health, education, wellbeing supports for when you – dare I say it – tire of failing forward.

To recover and regroup outside the arena so you can return for another round, however that might look.

I have been quite emotional about this today.

Crying because I denied myself this kindness for so long!!!!

But I could only cry with relief at its return.

Not sure if that counts as happy tears, but facilitated by naming what was missing…

Having a place to go where I’m probably the worst and still made welcome and actively encouraged when I dare to show up. (Which will be regularly)

There’s something here too about what keeps us going forward – fear of feeling like a loser, rather than laughing any outcome off like a winner.  (double or nothing anybody?)  

I wonder sometimes about the value of “feeling your feelings” but I think this is it.  When I dare to feel my feelings, then I can choose how to respond to situations and ideas that trigger them.

I’m here to help you find your meaningful recovery space beyond the to do list.