Wednesday, January 27, 2010

Puttin' the "dis" in "discipline"

Snacking for Haiti.  I'm burning in hell...fire up the hibachi, boys!

We had a bake sale at work and all the proceeds will be going to help our devasted brothers and sisters currently living in hell.  I don't know the final figure, but I'm sure we did quite well.

And I helped.  Alot.

*sigh* One step forward, a Billy Cyrus "Achy-Breaky" line dance worth of steps back.  You know what my Waterloo is?  Anything dessert-like that ends in "ies": brownies, pecan sandies, cookies, candies, creme caramelies (That's not a word. ed.  It is in my world...)

But I was doing it for a good cause!  But, but...yeah, I coulda just forked over the dough and have done with it, but seriously you know how I feel about cup-cakes and if you don't it goes like this: a cake, in a cup, too small for sharing.  What's not to love?

Ah, but I was a good blob - I walked home from work and broke a sweat.  Got the workout togs on and walked s'more, and now I'm in the process of catching my breath.  And I hated every minute of it.  Sometimes when I work out, I get to that good spot when the heat is on, I'm pumpin' away and it feels gooooooood.  But this was a punishment workout.  Not the same vibe-age at all.  Every stride up the hill, I had this wee little voice saying,"That'll learn ya."  It reminded me of a documentary I watched the other day. 

During the Black Plague in the 1300's (just stick with me here), a group of fellas in Germany, poor monks mostly, had decided that this horrible sickness was due to God being angry - something God frequently was during the Middle Ages by all accounts.  In order to atone for their sins, and whatever else God may have had issue with, they decided to mimic Christ's punishing walk on the Via Delorosa on his way to Calvary.  And soooo....

They carried large wooden crosses and whipped themselves to bloody, pulpy messes.  And as Christ died for all of our sins, according to well-known and oft misinterpreted texts, so they would take on all the suffering of western Europe so God would lift the horrible plague.  So there they would go, from town to town, whippin' and bleedin' and pleadin' to God.  I swear, it was like a tour (big classic rock DJ voice) "Live for 2 weeks only, straight from the pits of Dusseldorf, on a mission to make you..FEEL...BAD and SAVE...YOUR...SOOOOOOOULS!!...The FLAGELLANTS!"

So rather than praying with their brethren, administering to the sick in their final agonizing hours, or any number of acts of comfort they could have done, they instead beat the bejeebus outta themselves. They'd beat themselves into a frenzy, proclaiming their guilt over and over again with there insane eyes raised to heaven.  Or merely clouds.  And to no avail.  The plague literally ate a third of the total population of Europe in the following year and a half.

So where am I going with this?  Guilt. Guilt is a powerful feeling and super-sucks as a motivator.  It's a cheat.  You are not doing the right thing for the right reason, you are doing it for the wrong reason and that, in a way, is a lie.  Lying to yourself.  "I will dispel all the bad, all my gluttony, in an orgy of workouts and physical punishment."  The bad has not been dispelled - the cookies aren't at fault (blameless cookies...good name for a band.  Beats the hell outta The Flagellants...no pun intended...).  No, the fault lies in me thinking "One won't hurt".  And it doesn't.  It's the 9 following that will ultimately "hurt".  And so, while stuffing my face, I think, "I'll work out later" and that gives me carte blanche to gourge, and then I feel guilty for doing so, and WHEEEE!! You must be this high to ride this ride.  Around and around and around...

Yes, I got the workout in, yay me, discipline thy name is Lili.

Blech.

The head space was all wrong and don't kid yourself-this journey requires some clean and open head space.  If you miss a workout because you are sick, don't kill yourself over it.  You're sick, fercryinoutloud!  Be easy on yourself, but be honest.  I wasn't honest and so the discipline of today was kinda sham.  And it got in the way of actually enjoying the exertion.  Crap. No fun.  But, like everything else I've encountered, I learn something from it. 

Do this because it does, ultimately, feel good.  And it does get better.  Don't beat yourself up-look at the bigger picture. You.  And you're working to one day be the smaller picture.  And at least you're working.  And this job has the best benefits ever.

LiliLaLarge

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