Thursday, November 13, 2014

Things I Learned From Nevada Fitness Club, Part Three: I Got Moves

Saturday night, November 8, was the annual Vernon County Cancer Relief fundraiser. This is a fun event, but for members of the board it's a night of tightly-executed moves to ensure things go without a (huge) hitch.

This year, I was put in charge of rounding the waiters up and making sure everyone got plates of food. Not as easy as one might think, in spite of the fact that most of the waiters were seasoned veterans at this event. So that happened, and then the usual whirlwind of the plate-clearing and auction, counting the waiters' tip money to see who won, etc.

But this was no run-of-the-mill fundraiser. There were a few loose-cannon situations that, when brought together, caused what I have learned in nine months of Nevada Fitness Club training to save my ass.

Loose Cannon Situation Number One: The Band

We had trotted out the same basic format for easily the last several years of this fundraiser, because it essentially worked. However, with some fresh new ideas in our new board members, a round of brainstorming was set off in one of our meetings that led to the booking of a band, Sober as a Judge, for this year's event.

These guys? Seriously pretty awesome. Do yourself a favor and look them up. They blew the roof off of that place. Kick-ass, for real. But, more importantly to this story, they started the ball of this whole thing rolling.

Loose Cannon Situation Number Two: Childhood friend Misty Caldwell

Misty had not been to one of these events before, but was there repping the amazing woman her mother had been before stupid cancer took her from us way, way too soon. Misty is no stranger to shaking her ass on the dance floor, and as the night went on and the drinks flowed, and the music continued to be righteous, she got out there.

Loose Cannon Situation Number Three: The New Waiter

We had a maverick this year in new waiter Corey Johnson. Mr. Johnson came to win, and said as much to me when I introduced myself to him in the beginning-of-the-night waiter roundup. This guy? Crazy as hell, and super effective. He won, just as he promised he would, and then decided that it was time to celebrate on the dance floor.

These three ingredients mixed together led to a moment of horror when Misty pulled me out onto the dance floor shortly after the winner of the waiter tip-off was announced. Waiter champion Johnson was in a mood to celebrate, and his dancing was very high energy.

Cue the horror music, because I was stone. cold. sober.

I'm not much on dancing when I'm sober. When I've been drinking, oh my gosh, call Star Search, because I will pop and lock myself to champion status...in my mind.

I probably look more like this, though.


But let me say again, this time I was sober. And when I'm sober I pretty much know I suck. I had to think fast, and act faster.
Cue: Nevada Fitness Club.

My advantage was that everyone else had been drinking, and therefore didn't care at all. So I basically did a fit club routine. A little up-center-back-center, a little hop-hop-squat, a little up-and-over, a little one-two-three-four-five-six-seven-eight, and - BAM! - I'd incorporated T25, Combat Cardio, Insanity, AND Asylum.

It got me through without incident, anyway.

And I forgot about the whole thing, until a couple days later at work when our marketing director called me about one of my cases. Before she hung up, she said, "Oh, by the way...you're quite a dancer! I tried to video you, but it was too dark. You've got some moves!"

Later that day, her boss stopped in and said, "I hear you're quite a dancer!"

I demurred, of course, but on the inside, I turned to the hidden camera and said, "Thanks, Nevada Fitness Club!" *winky face*

My point is, you should come work out.

It totally saved my ass.

Monday, November 10, 2014

A Job for Future Jen...

I like to jokingly say that my biggest strength is that I'm fully aware of my weaknesses.

It's kind of true, by the way. I mean, I have other strengths, like I can read fast, and sometimes I think of the right thing to say at the right time. But more often I think of the wrong thing to say. Like the time the customer at the theater complimented my scarf. What I fully INTENDED to come out of my mouth were words along the lines of, "Thank you, scarves are so easy! You just throw them on and BAM! It looks like you tried."

What came out of my mouth instead was, "Thanks! I like to tie things around my neck."

That customer has avoided me ever since. I'm not even kidding. He comes to the movies kind of a lot, and every time, wide circle around me.

Can you blame him? I can't. And it's even worse when I see him and I have a damn scarf on again.

What was I even talking about? OH! Weaknesses.

So, one of my biggest weaknesses, if not THE biggest, is that I'm super, super impulsive. Like, in sometimes dangerous ways, but more often, in completely mind-numbingly stupid ways. Like the time I was a Verizon customer for six hours before realizing they have no signal in Sheldon. Or the time(s) that I ate an entire pound of chocolate in something like 30 minutes. Or the large pizzas.

All the times I spent a lot of money that really would have been better served not being spent, but the sale ended TODAY, or it could be COMBINED with a sale, or something.

When people muse about how many of us live in the past, or live in the future, and how few of us fully embrace the present, well, I kind of don't understand that.

I am a fully-in-the-present kinda girl. All the time. I seize moments on the reg. Or procrastinate on the reg. And every time I recognize that I'm making poor decisions (and I always do when it's happening, because, like I said, it's my biggest strength), I think to myself, that sounds like a problem for Future Jen.

Future Jen hates Present Jen. But then again, Future Jen is by that point Present Jen, and Present Jen is Past Jen, and it's all a little confusing, but the end result is that I'm often filled with regret, and whatever food I can't stop eating at the time.

And, even worse, people can rarely talk me out of my poor decision. My sister, bless her heart, tries all the time. She knows how I'll feel afterward, so she acts as my own little Jiminy Cricket. And even though it almost never, ever works, she just keeps plugging away.

But, again, this is something that I struggle with. I don't dwell on the past, and I don't worry a lot about the future. I basically just try to completely embrace this moment. Yes, this one. Right here.

This past Saturday night, Vernon County Cancer Relief had their annual fundraiser at the Eagles lodge. I love this organization, because I know for a fact that 100 percent of the money raised goes to benefit local cancer patients and families. That's pretty sweet, and a lot of people have benefited from those donations since the organization was founded in 1987.

We generally have a couple of speakers at our benefits, and this year my amazing childhood friend Misty Caldwell Shepherd was one.

Misty had this really, really cool mom. She was peppy and cute and happy all the time, just this petite little woman with enough life in her for someone twice her size at least.

Susie was just always happy. I never saw her mad, although I'm sure it happened. And she was so young and vibrant.

That's why it just absolutely sucked when she found out she had cancer the summer before last and only lived months after that.

The thing about Susie was that she seized every moment. She urged people to live life to the fullest, and she was the embodiment of that. She overcame great obstacles, and she just kept smiling.

We could all stand to be a little more like that. I see that spirit in her daughters, and I know that she will live on in all of the people she touched. And I don't ever, ever think that she had one wasted moment. She was fully present in every one of her days, and if that wasn't true, she sure had us fooled.

And that, THAT is what we should all strive to be. Live every moment, even the ones where you're super full and miserable from eating all the time, even the ones where your heart is absolutely shattered and you don't know how you're going to get through this moment, there's no way, it's too much...

you just gotta OWN those moments.

Because we're beautifully, brokenly, absolutely alive.

So I'm proud to live a life like Susie Caldwell, and be fully present every day. And I know I'm not the only one to take that lesson from her example. I'm going to seize this moment. And then I'm going to seize another.

Although I do need to work on my impulsivity.



Monday, November 3, 2014

Anchor, Man!

As we hit the month in which we declare our gratitude, I can't help but think back over my 2014.

It's been what I would call a series of...shifts.

A couple were good, like hitting Nevada Fitness Club and sticking with it, or starting to take fish oil when I realized my cholesterol rivaled that of a chronic smoker twice my size.

A couple were bad, and made a mockery of who I thought I was. My identity, or what I had considered it to be, took two major hits, pop pop!, one after the other. When I regained figurative consciousness, I realized that I was suddenly, to put it in terms a Cubs fan might understand, in a rebuilding period. Everything I thought I was, everything I planned to do, all of it was...just gone.

It was weird as hell.

Over the weekend, I finally picked up a book that my friend Johanna loaned me roughly two months ago and started reading. It's called "It's Kind of a Funny Story" by Ned Vizzini, and is about a 15-year-old kid who spends five days in a psychiatric facility. I'm drawn to these types of stories, because I spent seven days in a similar facility when I was a teenager, and for the same reason as the protagonist...depression.

This book was pretty true to my own experience. These places are made up of an interesting collection of personalities, and the real lessons aren't always learned in therapy.

About two-thirds through the book, the main character, Craig, is talking to his therapist, Dr. Minerva. She asks him what his anchors are, what calms him when things around him are anything but. He muses out loud that maybe his friends, or this girl he just met. She stops him, and reminds him that people, and their personalities, are fluid. They're ever-changing. People cannot be anchors, Craig. What else?, she asked him.

I've been thinking about Dr. Minerva's words a lot, because I have been guilty of considering people my anchors. And I have lost those anchors. I know music is one. I know writing is one. But when I returned to Fit Club tonight after a week-long absence, I realized that I felt like I was back home. Better yet, we were doing my FAVORITE workout, Combat. If you have any kind of personal El Guapo in your life, do a Combat workout.

Punching the crap out of your invisible enemy is very therapeutic.

But the best part, the most amazing part, of the workout tonight was that when I walked in, my dad was there waiting for me.

I have a really great dad, and I had a really great childhood. Part of my kid identity was following my dad around softball parks and basketball courts until I was old enough to play. He, and my other dad, Leon, were my coaches, and I was secure in the knowledge that I could count on them for anything.

Practice really kind of sucked.

Running really, REALLY sucked.

Don't even get me started on line drills.

But I was secure in who I was on the court or on the field. I had a role. I knew what I had to do.

Sports, and exercise, were my anchors.

To walk in tonight and see my dad meant everything. Suddenly it was 1992 again, and we were in that same gym, doing aerobics with Sherry Bickel to stay in cardio-shape in between weight workouts.

And I realized that I'm starting to get my identity back. I have my anchors again.

What are your anchors? What are the things that calm you, the things that focus you, the things that bring you back to that happy place in your soul? What makes you feel like you felt when you were a child and everything was an adventure?

Find it. Find it, and get back to it.

Sunday, November 2, 2014

postsecret

My sister is a big PostSecret fan. She remembers to check it every Sunday, and will occasionally text me, telling me to read them all and guess which one made her think of me, or guess which one made her cry?

She's a soft touch. Don't let that resting bitch face fool you.

And I have often wondered, over the years, what my secret would be. What is the darkest thing in my soul, the thing I dare not tell anyone?

And how would I phrase it when I don't even know what words exactly to assign to it?

So yeah, I don't have much of one. There is nothing so bad in my life that I haven't shared it with at least one other person.

But there are some that provoke such deep and instant emotion within me that I have to wonder...

Is it possible that I have a secret so deep that I don't even know it?

My marriage is ending. It's ending, and it's a slow-motion train wreck, or a car crash, ithurtspleasemakeitneverhavehappened, and I have known it was ending for over a year, more like, wow, 18 months, and I didn't want it to, I wanted to hang on so tight, I wanted to never let go, I wanted to hold on to my marriage like a kid holds on to a new puppy or kitten.

But squeezing that tightly can cause whatever you're holding onto to die.

The other thing with my marriage was that almost everyone I knew saw the writing on the wall from the beginning. Everyone but me.

Who am I kidding? I saw it. I knew. I knew when I was 18 years old and he called me out of nowhere, told me to come over without any underwear on, and we had sex for about 10 seconds while he looked out the window to make sure his girlfriend wasn't coming home for lunch. With their baby.

I knew it when he told me they broke up, and then my doorbell rang one day and I answered it to find her, her sister, and her cousin standing there staring at me.

I knew it when he called me when I was engaged, then when I was married. One or two or several times a year, every year. Always to ask if I would meet him on some road to have sex.

I knew it when I finally acquiesced, 11 years later, and had an affair while my husband sat, stoned and watching porn, in his man cave.