Can you imagine the look on a caveman or woman’s face if they were to emerge from back then to now via the dressing room of a TJ Maxx? Or, better yet, Barney’s? Sure, the whole electricity thing would have them gobsmacked, in awe. Then they would settle their jittery gaze upon the racks and racks of clothing and think, Why? What do you do with all of this?
Oh, I’d reply, we buy it! Then we wear it. Usually. Sometimes it sits in our closet with the tags still on, unworn.
Closet?
Yea, that’s where we store our clothes.
Clothes? As in more than one piece? Do you not have water?
We do now! But who knows…we may run out. Yea, we clean our clothes. We also pay these guys called ‘dry cleaners’ insane amounts of cash to launder our clothes. I’m not even sure what they do to them. They may just spray them with some Lysol and throw a plastic baggie over them.
Don’t bother asking about plastic. It’s something we’re in the process of eliminating.
But why so MUCH?
Well, darling, to look good! To feel good! Clothes make the man, the woman. Yards of luxurious fabric or the softest tees and perfectly cut jeans…it’s our armor. Especially those Spanx. See, we don’t have to fend off wild beasts, or wildebeests even, so we basically pour it all into our clothing. The rest of our disposable income goes to our cars and coffee.
Cars?
Don’t worry about it. They’d freak you out too much.
Why cover up this amazing physique?
I stare at his and wonder that myself.
Ours aren’t that amazing. We don’t have to hunt and gather. We just go over there to the Safeway. It’s safe to get all the food you want, more than you need, and they even have this stuff they say is food, but it’s not really food. But it tastes amazing! See, we don’t eat to survive, we eat to feel good. And we clothe our bodies to look good.
But more often than not we feel crappy and look unfit. Being naked in public is terrifying to the average person.
At this point he walks back into the dressing room shaking his large head and vanishes, to my dismay.
Oh, his body!
Oh, our bodies. What we do to our beautiful, miraculous bodies.
In those frenzied, bleak hours post Pocket Call I was out of my body. Not in a soul-traveling way, but in a divide and conquer way. My primal instincts kicked in with the threat of natural selection, Charles Darwin’s theory that only the strong survive, weighing down on me. You are so impressed right now. Don’t be. I googled it. The theory expresses exactly how I felt. Threatened. My safety, security, under siege. I felt shot out of a canon right into a fun house, the hallways lined with plastered collages of happy family to fractured family to void. Milky, black, nothing.
I couldn’t conjure up a single image of what my future held when just hours prior it was a scrapbook already finished. This hall would have ended with me and The Genius, old and happy. Proud of making it through. In love. I truly believed we were going to mature as a couple, our first step the move away from the regional family nest.
But in an instant that reality changed forever. My adrenaline surged. Thoughts and emotions ran wild, illuminated by the flashing lights inside my skull, blaring hot like nightclub strobes. Every realization – he’s with another woman, we’re about to buy a house, he’s really lying to me, wow, how long has he been lying to me, who is this person…oh, my God, what has just happened, how am I going to navigate this – blinded me.
While my emotions and thoughts went haywire and skyward, my body worked hard to ground me. I became very aware of its strengths and weaknesses and instinctively knew I needed to make changes to fortify myself for battle. That’s what it felt like. Like I was about to go into battle. The most overwhelming fear I have ever experienced ripped through me.
If I wanted to survive I had to get strong. Physically, mentally and emotionally strong. But first and foremost, physically. The compulsion to train was undeniable. The very next day, after buying the house we were going to grow old in, I began training as if climbing Mt. Whitney was 8 weeks away (It was only a thought at the time.) and I hadn’t hiked farther than the mailbox. In reality I had done a little hiking, when I felt it wasn’t eating into my time with The Genius while he was home. And when he was on the road I was with the dudes exploring our new surroundings, casually enjoying our time together.
I did not make caring for my body a priority. I would ask The Genius to cover for me so I could work out. He’d say, Sure, give me a few hours. Which would turn into 8, and then dinner time would arrive. Workout shelved. It left me feeling like I was white noise. My body weakened, it’s health not a priority for either of us. My lower back ached. I had no energy. My needs were going unmet, so my appetite made up for that. Dinner became my intimate moment of the day. And without much energy, any working out I did was less athlete and more tourist.
Those hours in the gym post Pocket Call saved me. I hadn’t worked out in a gym for years, preferring outdoor hikes to the fluorescent lights and the smell of fermenting body odor common in most health clubs. Each afternoon, with dudes in tow, I would head to the gym and pound that treadmill like I was running from a newly discovered arachnid – a cross between a tarantula and Pteradactyl.
They eat people, not flies.
For the first few weeks I was running from something, becoming a little stronger with each outing. I didn’t expect the fallout from the Pocket Call to get in line behind working out, but that’s exactly what happened. My body seized the top spot on my very short list of priorities:
Get physically strong.
Protect my heart.
Love the dudes.
That’s it. Those were my priorities. Crises sure have a way of simplifying things. While my feet racked up the miles, my mind processed what was going down around me.
Okay, I’m in a new place. I know basically no one. The dudes just started school.
Like wind-whipped pages of a newspaper, these images flew through my brain.
We just bought a house. The Genius is on another continent, I think, telling me there’s no one else in his life but me. That when he’s not with me he’s with no one. That he loves me. Yea, right. I have two months to figure this out. I have a choice. I can wait for his return and follow his lead or I can chart my own course beginning right this very minute.
I chose me.
At that moment I stopped running from something and started running to something.
(Full disclosure: I don’t actually run. Even when I do run, it’s really not running, it’s comedy. My treadmill workout was 4.0-4.2 MPH and a 6-9% incline for one hour, then 90 minutes, then two hours. Yep. 2. 5 days a week. Worth every sweaty minute of it. By the end of the first month I was addicted to the endorphins, salivating on my drive to the gym at the thought of witnessing my body rip through a workout with vigor.)
The desire to sit down and enjoy a meal was right up there with the desire to grow my armpit hair and pierce my nipples. I was not interested in savoring food. The crisis of the Pocket Call did not shut down my appetite, but it focused my cravings on those foods that would fuel me and leave me feeling light. Foods I could eat on the run.
I recall distinctly needing to feel as if I could spring up at any moment and flee.
I made the conscious choice to eat clean. If it didn’t grow from the earth, walk on the land or swim in the sea, I didn’t eat it. I didn’t want to eat it. Food prep went out the window. The closest I’d get to creating a meal was scrubbing a carrot or sauteing some spinach. Three steps was one too many. I ate a taco once and became confused and overwhelmed by all the ingredients. Eating one thing at a time – a carrot, an apple, a chicken breast, beets – was all my mind could handle. Nothing came out of a box or a bag.
Food was crucial as fuel, but meaningless in all other ways.
Bite, crunch, stare into space while my mind tried to fix the problem and my heart ached.
By the time The Genius arrived home, tail between his legs, I had shed 15 pounds at least. My back no longer hurt in the morning, I wanted to be IT in freeze tag, and time at the beach wasn’t spent sitting on a chair and gazing at the sea but seeing how far we could walk and climb and romp.
The workouts and new way of eating were not consciously designed to create a body that would attract The Genius, or anyone for that matter. My primal self chose that way of living in order to be physically strong enough to endure the emotional battles ahead. One part of self compensates for another. My body stepped up, big time.
It became the source of my personal power.
Ultimately, my new warrior physique saved me. To feel my body become strong, healthy and capable at a time when every other part of me was wrecked, was an inspiration. A life preserver in the middle of an ocean of despair. By the time The Genius returned I had transformed from pudgy Mom of two young boys to a fearless spirit, legs strong, core alive, ready to protect her fortress.
Kiss my taut ass. (Sorry, Mom.)
I recognized then the importance of a strong body. As a species it’s been a requirement for survival. Until now. Now we torture it to see whether or not it can survive. Just a few months prior to the Pocket Call I remember being in our bedroom with The Genius, frustrated by our lack of intimacy, and crying out, I hate my body!
Man, that cuts to the core to see those words and know they came out of my mouth. I told my own body, the unique, wondrous figure that carries my spirit through this 3D world, that I hated it. I allowed his insults and wandering eyes and hands – your boobs aren’t firm enough, she’s just a friend – to define me. I allowed that. The Genius did nothing other than speak his mind. Show his true colors. But I allowed it to define how I felt about myself. He didn’t love me, so neither did I.
I never completely stopped working out while married, but physical exertion to the degree necessary to replicate the benefits of hunting, foraging, farming, fighting for survival wasn’t a goal. Not until my emotional survival felt threatened. Duplicating that effort resulted in a strong and balanced body which helped to settle my emotions and leave me confident that I would flourish, not whither and hide.
The foods I ate and the exercise I relished proved to my body that I did love it, even though emotionally I was still not there. That’s all it needed to feel. Loved. My 3D body, the source of my personal power on this planet, needed to feel loved in order for me to fall in love with myself. I couldn’t love just parts of me, I needed to love all of me, beginning with my body.
My need to survive has been replaced with a desire to thrive. The daily workouts have slacked off to 3-4 times a week. That’s maintenance. I’m not here to simply preserve my form. That seems like a missed opportunity. I’ve got one shot with this body.
I want to let it be the star of this show. My spirit will always live on, but this physique has its moment right here, right now. It’s time to let her rip.
Who’s with me?
Love yourself,
Cleo
The dress is the result of Julie’s creativity and your words and spirit. HGM morsels of wisdom preserved in wax the color of blood. And love. Thank you, Julie. Thank you, kittens.
I’m WITH you. Always have been since you appeared on my radar at the perfect time last summer.
Last Saturday I started a running class and will train 4x a week for a 10K , then 1/2 marathon. Tonight is my second run. Was I a runner prior? NO. Same story as your relate here. I COULD have been that runner, had the body type, but didn’t put care of myself first then. Now I can, and I do. There is no try.
Someone told me recently my inspirational posts they saw had impeccable timing. I loved that. I will say again here Cleo. Your words have impeccable timing and your reflections seem to be the chorus of every woman here.
This is now a blog of empowerment, not of betrayal. The catalyst of betrayal has taken its necessary back seat, now its ugliness just a gentle reminder for strong change.
Sending you love for I know you love yourself. Me too.
M,
“This is now a blog of empowerment, not of betrayal.” Yes! Perfecting the physical, embracing the magical, believing in my ability to create exactly what I need in order to live joyfully, with abundance.
Tonight I will spend an hour in the pool, regardless of the plummeting mercury, and an hour on the elliptical trainer. Writing this post last evening and this morning helped to shake out some useless matter that clouded my sight, making my priorities unclear.
I struggle with timing. Never feeling like I’m doing things fast enough, with enough urgency. I wonder if I’m channeling all that we need at the perfect pace.
A transition is taking place, M. It’s up to me to insure it realizes its full potential. So glad you are WITH me! Thank you for taking the time to comment.
Love yourself,
Cleo
ANOTHER THING the Genius was keeping you from doing – focusing some time and effort on staying in shape, which isn’t about vanity, BTW. I assume you are in your 40s and this is the age where some people become sedentary and fat, and others push against the urge to “rest” and keep their bodies functioning. Believe me, what you do every single day today will make your 50s better, and everything you do in your 50s will make your 60s better, and on and on. Bodies need more and more help staying fit. I am not talking about washboard abs and perfect butts. I am talking about flexibility, strength, lowering the likelihood of injury, maintaining bone density, maintaining lung function.
Since age 45, I have had significant health issues which have brought these issues to the forefront. Every single day I try, try, try to push ahead, stay active, work out inside or outside, go to conditioning PT, etc. It’s an uphill battle for me due to lots of health problems. But for those who are merely dealing with aging, the important thing is to KEEP MOVING. It doesn’t have to be marathons or ocean swims (though kudos to you!), just literally, keeping moving. You describe your “running” as being funny to look at – well, who cares, you are moving, and that’s the point.
The pocket call would take 15 lbs off of any woman. My ex-husband’s infidelity came after a year of fever and weight loss of about 20 lbs – due to illness – however, I still managed to drop another 10 lbs right away. Just be glad you aren’t the type to eat when under duress…Keep up the good work, my friend!
C,
Thank you, C. 2013 is the year I become a mountaineer!
With love, I disagree about The Genius keeping me from taking care of my body. Only I am the one who makes that decision. I allowed it to happen. Sure, being married to a supportive person who shared my interest in climbing and hiking would have rocked, but I screwed that up. This is my body and I am responsible for its health and well-being.
Lesson learned! THIS class I DO NOT need to repeat!
Take exceptional care of yourself, C. May 2013 lead you to great health and happiness.
Love yourself,
Cleo
I am so with you Cleo. I responded in the same way after my “pocket call” That is one thing that has really made me identify with you, the need for physical activity and the need to be in nature. I find hiking and snowboarding to be most therapeutic for me. Also, I love and have recently stole your closing line (by stole I simply mean, writing it on my calender and saying it to friends) “Love Yourself” Thanks again. You rock! 2 weeks from now is my one year anniversary. I am spending it on a beach vacation with my “little dude” and my dad and sister in Hawaii. Very much looking forward to embracing it and being strong.
H,
Steal away, m’lady. But in its place could you leave a little of your balance and dexterity so that I, too, may snowboard? I would LOVE to sail down a mountain all fearless and stuff. The last time I did that I ran smack into the lodge. Which is why I now begin in the lodge and remain in the lodge.
Oh, you are going to have such a memorable time! How perfect. A vision quest of sorts – without the lack of comfort. I am so happy for you and grateful that your family is celebrating with you. Thank you for being here and don’t forget to look for the magic! Hawaii is sure to be full of it!
Love yourself,
Cleo
I’ve had lots of reminders from everything in my life-angels, owls, quotes that come at the perfect time, manifestations of perfect houses- to tell me and my intuition that I am now moving at the RIGHT pace, at the RIGHT time, with the RIGHT people. I trust this fully and now not only let it come, but help DIRECT it. Everything in my new life is supporting that. Your words are part of that too. Your timing is perfect.
Your channeling for you and on behalf of the kittens is part of this magical chorus. The transition- THE SHIFT-is happening. Thank you!
M,
From the s…tuff is happening to The Shift is happening! Bring it, baby. We’re ready, able and optimistic. Eyes wide open looking for magic everywhere.
Thank you, M.
Love yourself,
Cleo
Hello from Vancouver, Cleo!
Your post really resonated with me. I’ve never understood why we’re so hell-bent on thinking of the mind, spirit and body as separate entities: the health, the very existence, of any one of those depends on the others. I’ve found that consistent and varied physical activity has been an integral part of my mental health regimen these last few years and your site has been a new and necessary component of it since Lainey mentioned it in her blog.
Maria
P.S. In regards to the “taught” ass kissing you referred to, did you mean “taut ass” or is there some new posterior education I haven’t heard of?
M,
Thank you so much for taking the time to comment and for your grammar assistance! Hilarious. I’ll be changing taught to taut post haste.
I just wrapped an hour in the pool and an hour on the elliptical and feel as though I could keep going! Keeping the body fit is the cornerstone of a joyful life. It’s essential. I read something the other day that is worth sharing: If you don’t have time for working out, you best make time for getting sick.
Love that gorgeous Lainey. And while I have not yet been to Vancouver, I already love it! I plan on visiting your stunning city soon.
So grateful you are here, M. Keep an eye on my wild word swapping!
Love yourself,
Cleo
Who’s Lainey? Sounds like I’m missing a blog I should be reading! Thanks.
Phyllis
P,
Lainey…beautiful Lainey.http://www.laineygossip.com She is brilliant. And funny!
Love yourself,
Cleo
This post could not have come at a more perfect time for me. I’m sure I’m not the only one who feels this way either. Once upon a time I cherished my physical being, nourished it well, rested it, challenged it and was pleased with the result. It performed well, responding with gusto to anything I requested of it from running to skiing to cycling, swimming, roller skating on a Saturday night, or whatever kind of activity needed doing be it for recreation or any other reason (cleaning out the attic, trimming the apple tree, turning the garden over, …). Then as life and all its anxieties and challenges slowly smothered me I put my own physical and mental health on the back burner. And slowly, sadly, the fire died. It has been years since I paid much attention to what I was allowing myself to feed on (not only physically but also mentally) and, truth be told, even cared beyond a passing interest. I had a career, a family to raise, a Type-A demanding (cheating) husband to keep happy (right! as if). Then, one day standing in the kitchen, the very same thing happened to me – I had a crying meltdown and actually said out loud that I hated my body. I let things get to such a critical point, the brink of my own personal crisis, and this shocked me into action. It was time to stoke that fire, to pull myself up by my own boot straps and love myself again. My body, my strengths both mental and physical are worth nourishing with the very best I can give myself. Last Friday I took my very first yoga class. Afterward I was overwhelmed with a wave of emotion that came crashing over me like the ocean, unstoppable and powerful. I felt regret for having let myself go, relief at being able to recognize my own worth once again, empowerment, an incredible connection between my mind and body I had never experienced before. I let the wave wash over me, let the energy go, cried it out and stood up taller and straighter than I had in years. I have been to a yoga class every day since then, determined to reach my peak physical performance once again. Not perfection, not physical beauty (those years are long gone) but my same familiar strong, confident, healthy self. Cleo, you have been an inspiration to me and your blog has challenged me to think beyond my own familiar comfort zone and to trust myself again. Thank you, from my heart. I honor your soul with mine. Namaste.
L,
Thank you for taking the time to comment. I am so grateful that you shared your experience. We hear so much talk about taking care of our bodies, but for many the desire to remain fit isn’t the right catalyst for behavior change. For people like you, I sense that the realization that our souls need to be in a healthy body for us to be able to achieve what we aim to achieve here on the planet seems to make more sense. You recognize that you are an integrated being. And now you honor that magical gift.
Go with me on this one…Our bodies have committed to do a lot of heavy lifting here for our souls. When we fall and hurt ourselves it’s the body that has to handle the pain and then heal. It’s the body that has to work all night to digest and purge and realign. It’s the body that carries our spirit through our journey on this planet. It’s agreed, joyfully, to take on that role.
So you can imagine how pissed it gets if it also has to deal with listening to us berate it, telling it hat we hate it! I’m sad that I made that choice. My body has been nothing but brave my whole life. My choices have not honored that bravery and loyalty.
My body is not the one that chooses to scarf down a bunch of processed junk and blow off workouts because The Real Housewives is on TV. It would rather do yoga – a practice that aligns the spirit/soul and body. You pleased both, hence the tears of joy. I’ve experienced those very same tears. It’s a beautiful feeling.
We can’t just love parts of ourselves. Loving our selves requires loving the whole package. Loving the whole package means that we make choices that demonstrate our love of our selves. Thank you for helping me to work through this most important issue. I need to continuously remind myself to make the choices that support my boundaries, needs and love for myself. I am SO grateful you are here doing it with me!
Love yourself,
Cleo
Cleo, I’m with you!
I am SO not a runner. But it is one of my goals this year – and that it is to run 5k without stopping to catch my breath. Coincidentally, my separation needed me to move to a new apartment and it just so happens that there’s a perfect park across the street – the perfect place to start running. I’ve started and it’s tough. But I’ll get there!
Thanks for the motivation
J,
Make sure you run on those toes! At least that’s what the experts say. Prevents injury. And it makes me look like a 5’9″ flipper footed fairy with rocks in her pants. I am unwilling to put any of the general public through such an experience as to see me run. Unless my bum is on fire.
Oh, wait…stop, drop and roll. I have GOT to get that right.
Love yourself,
Cleo
Oh I’m with you, girlfriend! Time to love this body — the body we Western women, if not women everywhere, are trained from adolescence to criticize and despise — and give it what it needs! (Though dark chocolate still definitely qualifies as a “need”!)
Rock on –
Phyllis
P,
My new love, homemade kettle corn. Followed by an hour hard in the pool! But only because I love both. And me.
Love yourself,
Cleo
Is there somewhere we can see a close-up of the dress?
S,
Yes, and you must. I will work on getting a close up image on the site in the next few days. It’s awesome.
Love yourself,
Cleo
L,
Welcome to Marin! I am so excited for the journey that awaits you. This is a magical place. As one kitten said, God made the world for everyone. He made Marin for himself. I’m grateful daily for being here.
Thank you for your kind words. And for taking the time to comment. Stay close and get on Mt. Tam!
Love yourself,
Cleo