Monday, May 28, 2018

What I learned waking up at 4am.

Ok, it wasn’t exactly 4am and it wasn’t exactly awake, but by 4:30am I had my running shoes on and I was out the door.
This is me running.. at 4:30am
I warmed up with 200 skips, a block of walking lunges and 2 blocks of side shuffles. Then I ran. I ran in intervals, walk/jog/run. I did this until my legs burned and my throat was sore. Sadly it was only 28 minutes before I called game on the work out and when home to stretch.

Now interestingly enough, during my cool down I was light-headed and dizzy; completely uncomfortable. I thought this was a mistake and I would never do it again BUT once I was showered, dressed and moving around I started to appreciate the time I had.

This was the first weekday morning in years that I didn’t rush, I had time to hear all about Thomas’s dreams, I had time to eat MY breakfast. I even had time to read with the boys before loading up. 
There was nothing frantic or stressful. There was no anxiety, because we had time.

It was also nice to see Richard in the morning; to get a proper send-off and a nice hug. It’s amazing how that can help.

Today feels different.

Tuesday, April 3, 2018

Another 'New' Plan

skipping is the new running

I made a new plan, I feel reluctant to even share it as I always seem to have ‘a new plan’.

I like to over think things and complicate my existence (I’m working on it)... I was Isa Cleansing, Intermittent Fasting, Calorie Counting, Strength Training and hydrating, while training with the Couch 2 5K app. It’s a lot... and misguided.  

It was a plan for failure.

I can’t, I take failure so personally and so deeply it kills all my motivation.

First; I need a real goal (Yea, I want to lose 75 pounds and have a 6 pack, but baby steps team).
Second; I need a timeline (a short one, I’m like a dog and I ge—squirrel!)
Third; I need a reward (yes, I am a 5 year old who works for cookies).

GOAL: Be comfortable in my swimwear.
TIMELINE: 3 weeks
REWARD: Cuba with my girlfriends (which is happening even if I miss the Goal, but what a motivator).

Three weeks is manageable because it all fits on to a one page excel; easy to carry with me, easy to post on the fridge. This magical excel (yes, the one I bragged to Richard about and then forgot to take WITH me), has all of my meals and snacks, fasting windows and my workout (See? It is magic).
It’s only day two(*day one was a disaster), but I’m still with it.

I also issued a challenge to my Apple Watch friends (who are just as competitive as I am) to fill the rings EVERYDAY for the next 17 days.

So here we go again.

This was today's workout that was supposed to
be yesterdays workout**
*Because you know you want to know why: I set my alarm, laid out my clothes and prepped my shoes. I went to bed early and woke up every hour until 2am checking the time so I didn’t miss my alarm. I didn’t. I woke up, turned it off and went back to sleep. Hmpf. The real frustration this wasn’t out of laziness (maybe 5%) this was out of belief I had already run. (right?) I had a beautiful dream that I woke up, had an amazing run around downtown SC, I felt great. I came home, Richard had made me a tea and with time to spare I curled up in bed to relax before my morning chaos started (ie. The boys).  This didn’t happen, but when my alarm went off I was sure it had, so I went back to sleep. Feck. Then I had to skip my lunch weight routine/plan because sweet Thomas needed me and then after the boys went to bed all geared up I bragged to Richard about my plan and then left it on the desk and went to the gym with NO plan. I ran (with my app) for 3k and then I randomly picked up weights and grunted. Hmpf. I put in all the effort yesterday and it wasn’t my day.

** Try it for a prize!

Wednesday, January 31, 2018


I want to be better – a better me, a better mother, a better friend. Be Better has always been my motto. I like that open ended drive to growth. Apparently that is all that is wrong with my mental state.

In the past 12 months I have taken notice of my slipping mental state. I notice my anxiety around the everyday. I notice my aversion to germs and touching. I notice my sour state. Things that always seemed to be manageable stopped being manageable. I started to notice how much my ‘craziness’ was affecting my day to day adventures.

Being aware is a gift; aware there is a problem, aware that it is affecting me and those close to me, aware that there is help available to me.

It is my ability to be aware that allows me to find help.

That is strength, even if I doubt typing that. It doesn’t feel strong to admit to a weakness. It doesn’t feel strong to ask for help, but it is.

So in September I went to someone to talk about all of it, its taboo and I hid it from my friends. I attended sessions with a psychotherapist, calling them ‘Book Club’. Book Club taught me about myself, that I was naturally hard on myself and that I was doing ok. I still don’t believe it.

My mind is divided, the logical rational Melanie that knows things are good, I am ok-- and the paranoid little girl that reminds me constantly of what I am doing wrong or what could go wrong. This alone has prevented freedom and spontaneity, adding stress to my relationships.  

They argue. Some days logic wins, most days it doesn’t.

This constant dialogue fills my head 24 hours a day, leaving no time to live in the moment, no time to enjoy and plenty of anxiety to fill the gaps.

I thought ignorance was bliss; I ignored signs and tried to fix it myself, with a deep seeded fear in losing my mind. 

Now, why am I writing this post? Better, why am I finally sharing this post? It feels like the right day, when everyone is a little softer. A little more understanding.

My name is Melanie and I have high-functioning OCD.