Strength training

My butt hurts.

I think this is a good thing, since I'm about 10 pounds up still after having babies. I'm trying this circuit training thing. I've never done it before; I've always just started at the first weight machine at the gym and gone down the line. But this is sort of empowering. Yesterday, I bumped all my weight up and went from two sets of everything to three. I came home pretty sure I couldn't get my coat off by myself, but strangely, my mind was ready to conquer the world. That's what counts, right?

I worked out six days out of seven last week. Yeah! It's interesting to find how this affects my struggle. Part of depression is that you feel completely defeated. When I'm pumping twenty pounds worth of dumbbells over my head in a shoulder press (which I couldn't get over my ears last week), I feel strong. I feel like I can do anything. One of these days, you're going to see this petite little blonde jump up from the bench and growl at herself in the mirror like a football player. Just sayin.

Prayer hasn't gone as well, unfortunately. I had a bit of a crisis with my devotional book last week. Some of the saints did some horrible things prior to becoming saint-like, and it's killing my attempt to protect my currently delicate mind from frightening images. How do you reconcile that? These things trying to get to you...through your moment of meditation? Oh come on! It's totally defeating.

I'm a little bewildered, honestly. I've found that within a week of me pinpointing exactly what I need to avoid, all those things are pressing on me, and in my faith, of all places. There's Haiti--everyone's talking about it, including my priest, who in his homily began mentioning such horrifying things that I actually ran for the door, sat outside, and cried by myself because really? I can't even get away from this stuff at church? My husband gently encouraged me to practice a prayer the Orthodox use often, the Jesus prayer (Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, the sinner). It's taught that if we are too weak even to pray that one line, it's helpful just to mutter, "Jesus, mercy! Jesus, mercy!" I think, sometimes, I might go with the latter. Sometimes I don't understand why God would do what He does. But I'll do what I can. I want to be faithful.

Perhaps it's like my workout, a little bit. Last week I couldn't get ten pound weights over my ears, but this week, I can. The only way I was able to get there was to go back, every day, and push those weights up, even though the pain was excruciating. This week, I'm fighting back tears and the fear of complete insanity while listening to stories of those suffering in Haiti, and maybe next week, I can endure information and pictures forced upon me with a little less fear of insanity, and maybe minus the tears. Because the fact is, horrifying things happen, and I'm going to know about it. I can't escape the world. Something is going to leak in, no matter how hard I try to avoid it. It's probably just better to exercise my muscles. Yes, I'll avoid what I can in order to give my injured mind some rest, but I can't let the opportunity to get stronger pass me by. I can't let it get me.

Oh, Jesus, mercy. Sometimes I feel so weak.