TGIF with Debb: One Note, One Win and One Annoying Sales Rep at a time!

Dear Diary,

John Grisham is already getting to me. Last week I talked about his idea of “one page a day” that he presented on the Mel Robbins Podcast.  He’s the writer of The Firm and A Time to Kill by the way.  His advice is simple.  Just write.  Every day.  No need to wait for the perfect time or for the perfect inspiration. For me, that means, no need to sit down once a week thinking, Okay Debb, what the hell are you going to write about this week?  Just write something.  One page.  One thought.  One little moment.  Every day.  So this week, I decided to try it. But, instead of sitting down every night to write a page, I started doing something a little simpler.  When something came up, when I had a thought, when something made me laugh, cry, swear, think or stop for a second like … this could be something good to write about in my blog this week, I’d grab my phone and pop it into my Notes app.  That's it.  No pressure to turn it into anything.  Just … Hey Debb, maybe this?  And guess what!  I have a LOT of notes!  Clearly, there’s a lot going on in this busy brain of mine, so here are a few of the thoughts that’ve been bouncing around in my head this week. 

The way I see other women is changing

I was at F45 this week doing a strength training workout and I looked over at a woman who was really strong.  Like … strong strong.  I had this little moment where I realized how different my internal dialogue is now.  Years ago, I would’ve probably looked at her and thought:  Must be nice.  Look at her body.  I wish I looked like that.  Why can't I be that strong?  She probably barely eats anything with that flat stomach of hers.  Insert eye roll here. Ya know … all the little ways we can turn someone else's strength into evidence that we're somehow not enough and they’re just so extreme.  But this time … I looked at her and honestly had this thought instead: Good for you!  You go, girl.  Seriously.  I was inspired.  I wasn't looking at her body and comparing it to mine.  I was looking at what was possible.  I know how much work goes into building a strong, functional body. I know that doesn't happen by accident.  So instead of making her strength mean something negative about me, I let it remind me:  I am getting stronger too. Honestly, that little shift in my self-talk feels like a pretty big deal.  I felt proud of my mind.  Sometimes the biggest changes aren't what we see with our eyes but what we hear in our own heads.

Okay … let's talk about the 10 pounds

I've officially lost 10 pounds since starting 75 Hard.  I'm on Day 32 of what I'm referring to as 75 Strong: My Way. I weighed myself on Day 30.  And honestly, I was shocked!  Not because I don't believe my body can lose weight.  I know how weight loss works.  I was shocked because of how my body is responding so well to what I'm doing every single day.  Moving twice a day.  Drinking a shit-ton of water.  Eating a really solid, healthy nutritional plan.  Tracking my macros to fuel my body with enough protein, carbs and fats.  Eating vegetables at every meal.  No alcohol.  Strength training.  Walking.  Hot yoga, Pilates and fusion classes.  Being intentional.  And most importantly … doing it consistently.  I'm not trying to starve myself.  I'm not doing some crazy diet.  I'm not living on lettuce and sadness.  I'm just taking care of myself and my body is responding.  That feels pretty damn good.  And yeah, I’m not gonna lie.  I'm excited about losing 10 pounds, but I'm even more excited about what the 10 pounds represents.  Consistency works.

And then there's Super Debbie

Okay … This one took me a little while to decide whether I wanted to share.  In the end, it was a why not.  So, here we go.  A few weeks ago, at our Annual All Staff Summit Meeting at Namaste North (where I teach yoga and Pilates), I received the MVP Award, (which I shared with another amazing colleague) and I also received the Puts People First Award.  These were voted on by my team and honestly …  I was humbled.  Very humbled.  My first instinct was actually not to share it here because I didn't want it to sound like Look at me! That's not my vibe.  But something happened that felt really different this time.  And that’s what I want to share.  I didn't push it away.  I didn't say:  Oh stop it.  I don't deserve that.  They probably just voted for me because… blah blah blah.  That’s how I usually think.  Instead, I left there and cried.  As usual, yes I know.  Emotional cancer Debb.  And I thought:  I'm really proud of myself.  And then I texted my husband, Rui.  He was at work.  I said:  “Guess who got two awards?”  His response.  “Of course, Super Debbie! Congratulations my love.  I’m so happy for you.”  He made up the nickname Super Debbie, when we were early into dating, by the way. 

Later that evening, when he got home, there he was, standing at the front door with a bouquet of red roses. I'm like, “What are these for?”  He says:  "For Super Debbie and her awards. You deserve my love.  I tell you all the time how amazing you are.  I’m not the only one who sees it.  See?”  More crying.  Obviously.  But what really got me was, for so long, I’ve been much more comfortable giving other people credit than accepting it for myself.  Sound familiar? People see me as Strong Debb.  Courageous Deb.  Funny Debb.  Leader Debb.  Confident Debb.  And yes …  it took me years to become that woman on the outside.  But on the inside, there’s always been that little voice asking: Can I actually pull this off? Who am I to think I can do this? Am I really as good at this as people think I am? Am I a good leader, or am I just really good at pretending I know what I’m doing?  Hello, imposter syndrome. Nice of you to show up… again. And I can honestly say that I can feel some of that melting away.  This challenge is doing way more than changing my physical habits.  It's building my internal confidence.  I'm starting to believe the woman other people have been seeing for years.  Maybe she is  Super Debbie.  Maybe it's time I stop arguing with her.  Maybe it’s time to stop arguing with your Super version, accept that this version of you exists, and start embracing all of who you are and all of the possibilities of who you can become.

One year smoke-free

While we're talking about things I'm proud of, October 4th marked one year since Rui and I quit smoking.  Yes.  Yoga Debb smoked cigarettes.  What?! Yep. I started when I was 15 because everyone else was doing it and obviously it was so cool inhaling dirty filth into your lungs and blowing it out.  Teenage Debb thought that was a solid life decision.  It became an on-and-off habit for years. I quit, started again, quit again … you know the drill.  I was off for a few years.  Then, the day my dad passed away, I bought a pack.  It was one of those nothing matters, who gives a shit moments.  Going back to an old friend for support kind of feeling. Instead of Rui judging me, he joined me.  We had both quit before, so we were basically two former smokers saying, “Well… fuck it.  We’ll just  have this pack and stop when it’s done.”  Eventually, though, we were hooked and knew we needed help.  So last October, we did laser therapy and haven't smoked since. The place actually called us this week to check in and ask how we were doing and to congratulate us!  Shout out to Ontario Laser Health Centre, 837A Penetanguishene Rd, Barrie. It made me realize:  Holy shit. We did it.  One year.  Another promise kept.  Another old version of me that doesn't get to run the show anymore.  To no longer have that monkey on my back.  I'm really proud of that.

100 classes, baby!

Since I seem to be on a roll collecting milestones this week (settle down Debb lol) ... I hit 100 classes at F45!  I’ve been going there for about 10 months, so 10 classes a month is pretty good, about 2-3 classes a week.  It’s cool to recognize our own accomplishments.  Not obsess over them or make them our identity.  But actually stop and say:  Hey. I did that.  Sometimes we are so busy looking at the next thing we need to accomplish that we forget to acknowledge what we've already done.  So here's to 100, and here's to whatever number comes next.

And then there was the shoe incident

After all these milestones, the universe decided my head was getting a little too big and it was time to bring me back down to reality. And not in some gentle, spiritual, ommm kind of way. I decided I needed new running/walking shoes because my old ones were no longer comfortable.  I walk into the store and this woman who works there immediately says:  “Hi! Can I help you with something?”  Me:  “Thanks, but not right now, I'm just looking, but I’ll let you know if I need a size.” Her:  “OKAY!!!”  Then she proceeds to follow me around like I'm about to steal a pair of Nike’s.  I'm looking at the prices.  $220.  $200.  $190.  $180.  I'm thinking definitely not.  I'm sorry, but my running shoe budget is somewhere around $85-$120 max if they’re really good shoes.  So I found a cute pair of New Balance for $110.  Perfect.  The lady is very close by, lurking over my shoulder, so I ask for an 8½.  She says:  “Oh, is that your size?”  Uh …  duh.  Yeah?  Usually 8 to 8½.  Apparently this was not good enough information because she says, “follow me.” 

She directs my feet onto a scanner and all of a sudden this machine starts talking.  I'm standing there thinking …  What the fuck is happening?  It sounded like the Great and Powerful Oz speaking to me VERY loudly saying, “Your left foot is bigger than your right!!”  Okay.  “You have wide feet!!”  Okay.  “You have flat feet!!”  Okay, we're really getting personal now are we?  “Your feet are wider than the average foot.”  There’s a massive screen with a diagram of my wide/flat feet.  I'm standing there like …can you please just grab me a size 8 ½  of these fucking shoes?  😂  There's a couple really close to me, watching and clearly giggling.  So I giggle back and naturally I say:  “Hey, in case you wanted to know.  That should make you feel really great about your feet.”  They laughed out loud.  The woman then starts telling me I might need a different shoe.  Maybe I need more arch support.  Maybe I need orthotics.  Maybe these won't be comfortable.  Maybe she can check the clearance section because I told her my budget, so she’s clearly calling me a cheapass.  Maybe this.  Maybe that.  I'm thinking:  Maybe just get me the 8 ½!  She finally does.  I try them on and guess what?  They fit perfectly.  They're comfortable.  They feel great.  They look cute.  She looks down at them.  Looks up at me.  Looks down at the shoes again.  Touches my toes and scratches her chin saying, “with your width and flatness, I really don’t know.”  I finally said:  “I'll take them!” She looked surprised.  Like, read the room lady! Isn't your job to sell shoes? Sometimes you just have to know when to stop listening and trust yourself.  Which, actually, is a pretty good life lesson. Typically, I would've left. Customer service (and awareness) is huge! But I liked the shoes. They looked good on my wide flat feet.

Maybe that's the real theme this week

Trust yourself.  Listen to yourself. Notice yourself. Get curious. And stop turning every little thing into proof that something is wrong with you.  Or your feet.  The woman at F45 isn't proof that I'm not strong enough.  She's proof of what's possible.  The 10 pounds isn't proof that I finally have value.  It's proof that my body responds when I consistently take care of it.  The awards aren't proof that I'm suddenly worthy.  They're reminders to receive the good things that other people see in us.  The 100 F45 classes aren't proof that I'm better than anyone who’s done less than 100 classes.  They're proof that I showed up.  And the shoes.  Well …  proof that sometimes you just need to shut the fuck up, try the damn shoes on and see if they fit.  Okay, maybe that last one is just about shoes, but you get my point.

One note at a time

So I think I’ll continue with the John Grisham thing.  Collecting the moments as they happen.  One note.  One thought.  One observation.  One story.  One day at a time.  Connecting the dots. Maybe that's life too.  We don't always see the big picture while we're living it.  We just keep collecting moments.  A workout.  A conversation.  A hard day.  A good meal.  A walk.  A compliment.  An act of kindness from your husband.  A pair of shoes.  A number on the scale.  A moment where you catch yourself thinking differently than you used to.  And then one day you look back and realize:  Oh.  Something changed.  Not all at once.  Just … one little thing at a time.  Maybe that's what I'm learning through all of this.  

I don't need to become someone else.  I don't need to be perfect.  I don't need to follow someone else's rules.  I just need to keep showing up as me.  The curious me.  The strong me.  The emotional me.  The funny me.  The woman who swears on her blog.  And in her head.  The woman who is learning to trust herself.  The woman who is finally learning to accept a compliment without explaining it away.  The woman who is becoming more and more comfortable saying:  Yep. I did that.  And maybe…  Yep. I'm pretty damn proud of myself.  

So here's to Day 32.  Here's to 10 pounds.  Here's to 100 classes.  Here's to one year smoke-free.  Here's to red roses.  Here's to strong women cheering for strong women.  Shout out to my ladies sharing this 75 Hard Challenge with me!  Sharing daily messages.  Sharing daily inspiration.  Sharing recipes.  Sharing hard moments.  Sharing motivation.  Sharing love.  Sharing life!  If you’d like to join, you can do that whenever!  Some of us are on day 8, some are on day 14, maybe you can be on Day 1 tomorrow.  Or maybe Monday is a better day to start. Enjoy your pumpkin pie!

Here’s to collecting the little moments and connecting the dots.

Move your body. Drink your water. Observe your inner voice.

It truly is the most important voice in your life.

It deserves attention.

As do you!

Keep going. Keep growing. Keep being.

TGIF ... until next Friday!

Truth.

Growth.

Inspiration.

Fun.

Building strength, mindset, and real-life consistency… one breath at a time. :)

💜 Yoga Debb