This week guys... This week has been a rough week, a fun week, but a rough one. I have ,been looking forward to this week for quite some time. It's the first week working with my new coach, John Harris, a man notorious for not only his own personal success in the bodybuilding industry, but for coaching other well known athletes as well. Even though I was slowly losing on my own, I wasn't positive that my diet was supporting my workout and conditioning. I was losing weight but also lean muscle mass and that body fat percentage wouldn't budge. Having John help me out with my diet is going to be key to my success. I trust him 100% to get me where I want to be, so I know the time, energy, and effort I put in will eventually yield the results I crave. So to say I was excited, is an understatement. But as I've learned with most self improvement and spiritual growth, the moment you decide to follow Christ or to do the right thing, or whatever that thing is that is going to propel you forward in life and in faith, the Devil attacks you with everything he has to knock you off your high horse and tempt you away from the path less taken. Whatever will discourage you or question God's ability to work this through you.
Day 2, I started coming down with a cold. My throat was itchy and post-nasal drip, the works.
The morning of Day 3, my 4 year old baby girl has an accident on our living room couch. Turns out, she had diarrhea, but no other symptoms. All through out that night, my poor girl was puking or pooping herself, so my already fatigued body was hitting it's limits. Add to that, my mother read one of my Instagram posts where I mentioned her opinion on my body building goals and she didn't take too kindly to it, so while I'm elbows deep in puke and poop, she's angrily texting me and hurt that I would post our private conversation. I should note: my mother is happy that I'm happy and doing her best to be supportive. She just doesn't get it and has a lot of contradicting ideas about what body building is. My post was intended to encourage other women to continue to pursue and follow their dreams despite what other people may think or say. I never thought it would hurt my mom by posting her opinion, but alas I am human and not perfect. So... here I am 2am holding my daughters hair back and hearing my phone vibrate and vibrate and vibrate, every "vvvvvv" like nails on a chalkboard, so I raise my closed, tired eyes to the sky and whisper, "enough. Please, Lord, I need you. I need a break." 10min later, Evalee is back in bed, my husband crawled in there with her to take care of her if she awoke again, and I got to crawl into a warm bed all to myself! Praise God! I turned my phone to silent and fell into the deepest sleep I've had all week.
Luckily, we kept Evalee home from school on Friday and the sickness let up. We had no issues all day and all night. Jerod even watched the kids when he got home from a long day at work, so I could keep to my training schedule and get to the gym to do both my weight training and cardio sessions. I started to feel better, then Saturday poured in, LITERALLY, raining all day long, Evalee's sickness came back (diarrhea again throughout the day), so we had to cancel all our weekend plans including Boo at the Zoo with friends and the women's group I lead each Sunday. I'm trying to see it all as a blessing. I was forced to truly rest today and spend some quality time with my kids, building tents, watching movies, and playing board games. We also took a family walk around the block tonight, put on our rain boots and splashed in some puddles. The best part, I made it through Hell Week and was able to stick to my diet and training routine 100%! Beat that Satan! If I can make it through all of this sickness and ugliness and still maintain my diet, training, motivation, and drive, then I can make it next week and the week after that and so on and on and on it goes. God has me. He'll carry me when my legs are like jello and I am physically, mentally, and emotionally drained. He will be my light in the darkness and keep me focused on that end goal. My baby sister, Annie, posted a verse from this poem at the beginning of the week and I do not believe in coincidences. I think I was meant to see it and you all are meant to read it as well. It was a poem that was written on a pretty beach picture that was framed and hung in the hallway of my childhood home from the time I was 4 to 15 years old. I remember it well.
Footprints in the Sand
One night I dreamed I was walking along the beach with the Lord. Many scenes from my life flashed across the sky.
In each scene I noticed footprints in the sand. Sometimes there were two sets of footprints, other times there was one only.
This bothered me because I noticed that during the low periods of my life, when I was suffering from anguish, sorrow or defeat, I could see only one set of footprints, so I said to the Lord,
“You promised me Lord, that if I followed you, you would walk with me always. But I have noticed that during the most trying periods of my life there has only been one set of footprints in the sand.
Why, when I needed you most, have you not been there for me?”
The Lord replied, “The years when you have seen only one set of footprints, my child, is when I carried you.”
Mary Stevenson, 1936