Hitting the gym

We are finally done having children. I have had 6 pregnancies-- 7 if you count the chemical pregnancy. Two of them were multiple pregnancies-- a set of identical twins that are now 7 years old and a set of triplets that we lost in pregnancy {would be 5 years old now}. I also lost a singleton in pregnancy {would be almost 11 years old now now}. I have 5 living children and 4 in heaven-- 9 total. I had retained placenta and hemorrhaged 2 weeks after giving birth to baby #5. I spent most of my last pregnancy on bedrest or "taking it easy," from 27 weeks on to when I delivered her. After she was born I battled post-partum complications and spent a lot of time taking it easy then. My post-partum complications were surgically repaired 7 months after baby #5 was born and required a partial hysterectomy.

I have birthed and breastfed {for various amounts of time} 5 children. I have had 3 D&Cs. My body might no longer be needed for growth, life, and sustenance of my children, but it did not feel like my body anymore. I wanted my body back. I wanted to feel like me. By the time I was 9-months post-partum from delivering my last baby, I finally had the all clear from my surgeons and doctors to resume normal life. I was ready.

After spending so much time doing as little as possible, I had lost a lot of muscle, most noticeably in my back and legs. I felt soft everywhere. I decided the best plan from about 9-months post-partum to 12-months post-partum would be to focus on walking, spending more time being active, and stretching. When my daughter hit a year old {3 months after I had recovered from surgery} I did my physical therapy exercises for my back every day and I did a combination of yoga and Pilates. I continued this until she was about 16-months {7 months after I had recovered from surgery} and then I started focusing on building my core along with my yoga and Pilates exercises and stretching. By the time my daughter was 18-months old {which was 11 months from having my surgery and 9 months since I recovered from it} I decided I was physically ready and comfortable with my fitness level to hit the gym at the level I wanted to.

I started going to the gym 3-5 days a week in January, working out at home when I wasn't able to make it to the gym. I get asked a lot if I have a planned rest day. The short answer is no. The long answer would be that with 5 kids and a husband on submarines, my schedule can be unpredictable. I try to take advantage of any time I have to work out because life happens and often interrupts my gym plans. If I have actually been able to work out for all 7 days of the week, then yes, I might take a day off. But life pops up when I least expect it and sometimes I am unable to work out like I want to and had planned on.

When I first started going to the gym, I didn't feel comfortable figuring out equipment I wasn't familiar with. I stuck to things I was good at: running, yoga, Pilates, and circuits. I built off of that and started exploring gym equipment that I watched other people use. I started keeping an eye on people at the gym who had bodies like what I was trying to sculpt. I noticed where they worked out and how they worked out and then I would try what they were doing. I Googled and YouTubed how to work machines and asked the gym employees. I had a couple ridiculous encounters with gym equipment, but I pushed through.

It took some time, but I fell into a routine and started anticipating my gym time. I liked the routine. I liked my locker. I liked dropping the kids off in child watch with their adorable little backpacks. I liked the moment when I put my headphones in and turned on my playlist. I liked my spot where I would do my warm up stretches. I liked the moment I hit my stride in my run. It became my time.

I took ownership of my gym time. This was something that I was doing for me, away from my husband, away from my kids. This was a part of me that I had with no one else. I could lay out my own goals and I could achieve them on my own without relying on anyone else. I watched work out videos and bookmarked exercises. I planned out what I would do that day at the gym and what part of my body I would be working on. I set how many miles I would run that day and the pace. I stuck to it. I tailored my diet. I increased my water intake. I made healthy choices to support my training.

Something amazing happened. I started hitting my goals and making more goals. It felt like this one area of my life was completely mine and that I was succeeding in it. Every time I did something that was hard for me or every time I pushed through and checked off another goal or every time I hung on and completed the workout even when I thought I couldn't, it felt like a win. It shifted my thinking. I started thinking: I can and I will. And then I did. I have told myself this over and over again the past couple months. I started applying this outside the gym. Take a deep breath. Step back and assess what I need to do. Then roll up my sleeves, plant my feet, and get the job done. I felt stronger, not just physically but mentally.

Then I had a major setback. A whole bunch of huge stresses hit me all at once. My marriage is on the rocks. We are selling a house, buying a house, moving across country. We have the Navy schedule on top of our marriage issues. It felt like everything I had built crumpled underneath me. Instead of focused workouts, I started panicking at the gym: running until my legs cramped and couldn't go anymore, pushing myself too hard without taking care of all the areas of my life {nutrition and hydration}. I wasn't doing the gym for me. I was doing the gym because I was angry. After having a really bad work out, I realized I needed to step back and center myself again.

I took care of myself: nutrition, hydration, sleep. I plugged into different supports at my gym: classes; talking to people and building emotional support; adjusting our family gym schedule and routine so it supported things I wanted to do and not just the kids, forcing me to carve out time where I could. No more. I took my gym time back, away from it being only an outlet for my frustrations. I made it about me again, my time. My goals. My victories that have nothing to do with anyone else in my life.

When the stress deepened and my life got busier, I decided to hire a personal trainer to help me focus myself even more at the gym. Now I see him 3 times a week and I still run 5 days a week. My goal is running 7 days a week, but life is busy with 5 kids. Since seeing a personal trainer and making this time a priority for me-- even in the mayhem of moving and marriage and parenting-- I have noticed that I take myself much more seriously. I make sure I am getting proper nutrition and sleep. I make sure my time is a priority on our family calendar. I make sure that our schedule supports my goals. It seems like such a small and easy thing, but being the primary caregiver for 5 children is busy and often it is easy to let my priorities take a backseat to the immediate tasks at hand in their lives.

Most importantly of all, I feel like myself. I don't feel like I'm drowning with everything going on around me. I feel like Kimber. I feel like a person with rights and equality and goals. I feel like I am capable and strong. I feel like I step back, tell myself I can and I will and then I do. I feel I have learned through my training that I am stronger than I think. I am determined. I have stamina and endurance. I can break down the big challenges into smaller pieces that I can manage. Then I am able to plant my feet and get to work and push through, when it is hard and when I am questioning if I can keep going. I do. And then I come through more confident.

It's been hard to find the bright side to the last couple years. This past year of physically getting in shape has given me so much perspective on everything I've been through and I have found this physical training is helping me even more mentally than I had planned. I am excited on personal training days, when I know he is going to push me harder than I think I'm capable of. I get what I like to call a "gym high" after I complete a grueling session when I did not quit. I've learned through this fitness journey that I have the ability to set a goal and keep taking steps towards it, even if they are small steps, even if my goal feels unreachable at times, I don't stop. I find a way. I find a path, even if it isn't the path I thought I would take.

Gym time hasn't given me my body back from pregnancies. Gym time has given me myself back.