Victorious or Beaten - I'll take both

I remember at the end of February last year posting about feeling like I was in a fog.

And even though I was exercising and losing weight and feeling amazing - that fog was there.

I wasn't myself.

Well, I take that back.  I was me.  Just a less happy version of me.

I'm amazed at how amazing and awful I felt at the same time.

I was out of shape and overweight and that was visible.  Anyone could see it.  My efforts to take over that area of my life and make it new were visible.  I shared those efforts here, with you.  On Facebook.  On Twitter.  In person.

I'm not going to make light of my weight loss journey.  That was a huge battle.

For me, though.  It's the internal battles that are most difficult.  Those are the ones I don't talk as much about.

And there has been battle after battle waging.

And I've lost.

I've lost.

The end of summer was rough.  I was my strongest physically, yet my weakest emotionally.  I started taking an anti-depressant at the recommendation of my counselor.

I knew what was causing my depression.  And it wasn't something meds could fix.

I took them for a month and then quit.  (not recommended by my counselor or doctor)  This may not have been my wisest decision seeing how I got pretty down and out once I hurt my ankle and couldn't bike or gym.  But I've been fine without them.

Things have changed since I hurt my ankle.  Not just physically but emotionally.  Good stuff.  Hard stuff.  Heart stuff.

Since October I've had my good and bad days.  Many, many bad days.  Pity parties.  Anger.  Depression.  Anxiety.  (for me those two go hand in hand) The list could go on and on.  But in the last few weeks, I guess at the beginning of the year when I decided to no longer live wired for regret, I've felt happier.  Content. In love with life again.  With my life.  It's been slow but steady.  And lately I've found myself with happier days than depressed days.  It feels good.  I feel good.

Yesterday I got on my road bike for my first serious ride since October 1.  I rode 16.5 miles to the gym.  Did an hour of yoga and rode 16.5 miles home with a head wind.  I felt strong.  Physically.  And emotionally.

I've said 2011 was awesome for me, and it was.  But 2011 was rough for me, too.  I can't re-do it.  I wouldn't want to, though.  Every trial I'm faced with, whether I come out victorious or beaten down, I learn something.

And I'm learning God's grace is amazing.

So freaking amazing.

Some Like it Hot...We, However...Do Not

Amber and I decided to be even more ridiculous than our normal ridiculous.

I read on Kelsey's blog about "hot yoga" and mentioned it to Amber, who had apparently heard of it already.

Our gym doesn't offer it so Amber Googled and found a place about 40 minutes away that offered it.  15 bucks and we could drop in for 90 minutes of 105 degree heat at 40% humidity.

Yes, we paid for torture.

But let's back up.  First we had to get there.

Here's a little bit of our FB convo:

Her: Do you know where we're going tonight?  I didn't google that part.

Me: Yes, I know where we're going.  One of us has to...

Her: I'll be beauty this time.  You be brains.

And so I get to her house ridiculously early {and I understand that when I post about Amber the word 'ridiculous' comes up a lot but that's really the only way to describe us.} I get there early because that's how we roll.  I'm thankful for a friend who not only gets my need to be early but has that same need herself.

Newbies to the class are to arrive 20 minutes early.

Like we wouldn't already.  But whatever.

I couldn't find a sports bra at home so I had to borrow hers and thankfully it was a really cute one.  I say thankfully because...well, you'll find out later in the post.

Isn't she so pretty?  I think she's beautiful.

We're driving.  Talking.  Laughing.  We're just a good time.

It's getting time to take exits and I tell her to "get in front of that white car and merge over that way."

She replies with some catty remark about which one of us is driving or whatever.

Let's pause to talk about Amber's driving skills.  They could be better.  She knows it and so does everyone else.  But her car is way cuter than  mine so I like her to drive.

Back to the story.

She's now gotten in front of that white car like I told her to and then all of a sudden she starts taking the exit toward the mall.  She knows that the road we're supposed to be on is off the same road as the mall but what she apparently wasn't realizing is that that road doesn't go through and it would have taken us ten times as long to get there that way.

I'm telling her hello, don't go that way and she says this: "You don't know how to be brains, you only know how to be bossy."

Pfft.

It's a little habit of a firstborn.  Oops?

I get us there (of course) and we're 40 minutes early (of course).  There's a bar down the road and we're both getting a little nervous that we're considering just hitting The Keg instead of The Class.  I have a Twitter friend who lives not too far away and I'm sure he wouldn't have minded a bit had we shown up in our spandex glory.

We sign in.  Pay our money.  Go into the restroom/locker room deal and as we see the other women, we're beginning to feel a little over dressed in all our clothes.  Some are wearing just sports bra and shorty short shorts.

Then we enter the room that is so freaking hot I sweat just by entering.  Amber made the joke that apparently the air conditioning was broken and maybe we should let them know.  {she's really funny.}

There's about 25 of us in there.  Some men.  In Speedo(ish) attire even.  Yes.  Hot, sweaty, old, wrinkly men in Speedos.  Be jealous.

The instructor gets up on this platform to start class, and, get this - says, "I'd just like us all to welcome Amber and Sarah to class tonight."

Yeah, she called us out in front of everyone and we totally wanted to hide under our yoga mats.

15 minutes into the poses and I'm sweating profusely.

30 minutes into the class Amber leaves so she can vomit.

No, I'm not even a little kidding.

I sat down for about 5 minutes to get my head together and my breathing calmed down.

She came back to class and somehow we made it through the next hour.  We aren't quite sure how.

The sweat.  Oh, the sweat.  It wasn't just dripping down my body but pouring out of every part of me.  And, I admit, I wound up taking off my shirt during class and just wearing my sports bra.  I have stretch marks, love handles and a vertical 6-7" scar on my belly I wanted to show off...  My shirt was a mess, Amber's cutie sports bra she loaned me wound up bleeding all over my white tank top.  So, I stripped 'er off.

And this is us after class.  The class that we somehow survived.

Uh huh.  That's us.  What you don't see in this picture - and lucky you - is the woman who is standing right next to Amber who took off her pants and had her sweaty, naked butt right in our faces.  We were dying.  Dying.  She had to have seen that we were taking pictures, why in the world would she do that?!

Anyway.  We not only survived class, we survived that lady's behind in our faces.

I think we'll go back.  Some year.

Just not this one.