I had every intention of starting off the month of August with a bang. My workouts were planned, my meals were prepped for the week … everything was good to go, but …

I used to be the type of person that always wanted to start on the 1st of the month or the beginning of the week. However, after some time of really incorporating fitness and healthy living into my overall lifestyle, I realized that it doesn’t matter what the day/date is — just start. There are always going to be obstacles and things that come up. No matter how perfect your plan is, life happens — and you just need to be able to move on.

That being said, some days are tougher than others, and sometimes, no matter how good your intentions are — things just fall to pieces.

I started off my week well. Since I train hard for pretty much the whole week, I decided to keep Mondays as my one full rest day. I also decided that I would do a 24 hour fast of just water/coconut water on the first Monday of each month as a kind of refreshing detox. I had a long list of errands to tackle and I was super pleased that I could tick all of them off my list. Then, there was my doctor’s appointment. I had been waiting since March 2016 to see a specialist about my uterine fibroids and discuss treatment options because the pain has been getting worse each month. I wasn’t looking forward to the appointment, but I was happy that I’d finally get to speak to someone who could hopefully give me some advice — and some hope. How wrong I was! The details of my experience are up on my Health History page (most recent updates are at the bottom of the page). To cut a long story short, I wasn’t given any new information or any hope. The person I saw was not a specialist. My condition is bad. I wasn’t given any proper treatment options – just a bunch of painkillers and a ‘promise’ of we’ll look into it and see what can be done.

I was so upset. I felt hopeless – like there was no getting out of this. Like I was going to have to suffer through this forever. It was very depressing.

That feeling of hopelessness stayed with me for a few days. I couldn’t shake it. I kept trying to talk myself out of it, telling myself, ‘It’s ok. I just have to keep working on improving my health regardless of my condition. I just have to do the best I can. Any positive thing I do for my health is good for me in the long-run.’

However, to be honest, I was tired of hearing my own pleading voice. I was tired of trying to put on a brave face. I have had this same conversation with myself over and over again … It never gets easier. I feel like I’m sinking in a pile of quicksand and I’m almost all the way under. I can’t find a firm footing. I am struggling to keep my head above the sand.

It is hard to stay positive when all I feel is the pain and all I see is this massive fibroid filled belly in front of me. Even though I’m in pain, I try my best to avoid pain killers. Besides, the physical pain is nothing compared to the emotional wear and tear that I go through each month. I try to put on a brave face and just get on with my day, get on with my training. I try to bite my tongue when I feel like I’m about to give an excuse for why I’m not moving as well as I should when I’m in the CrossFit Box or the jiu-jitsu mats. I don’t want to be limited or defined by my condition — but I tell you, it’s not easy. It’s not easy at all.

So, after skipping yet another workout and spending pretty much all day moping around the house, I decided enough. ENOUGH. Yes, it all sucks. It sucks today and it will suck tomorrow and it will suck for who knows how long, but I have to push through. I HAVE TO. I had a few days to be sullen and cranky.

The pity party is over. It’s time to get back to work.

Pity1