How I’m seeking refuge in self-care while maintaining my fitness regimen, activist work and personal work without guilt.
On Friday, my therapist loaded me with homework: Choose a day to be versus do. This was inspired by my obsession with writing out lists and decorating my workspace and entire home with post it notes filled with tasks in every room. Admittedly I’ve grown mildly addicted to writing out my workout routines on neon 5X7 Post It Notes, meticulously scribing out a well-blended strength, calisthenics and cardiovascular routine. This act serves as one of many ways of how I’ve been keeping my mind occupied while coping with the harsh realities of several burning fires throughout 2020. Obviously, Rona trickled her ass onto Luther Vandross’ remixed 2020 but so many other negative things followed suit. After feeling invigorated about Stacey Abrams’ nomination for the Nobel Peace Prize, I felt numb after reading about a Black 9-year-old Black girl that was assaulted with mace by the Rochester Police Department because they found her to be uncooperative. Without going into graphic detail, I am sick and tired of reading comments from people that justify heinous crimes, particularly ones done on Black, Brown and Indigenous folks. This level of hurt and rage frequently crosses into my fitness routines and at times, heightens me to such a degree that I don’t feel safe going for a run or leisurely riding my bike outside. Conversely, I’ve thrown myself into mini strength work and cross training exercise regimens and feel guilt when I cannot knock them out. If there’s ever a day that my workload is on overkill, I criticize my lack of time management to essentially do it all. Acknowledging this harsh self-assessment with the help of a therapist, I am using this month to find my balance to be passionate about everything with room to recover and welcome spontaneity.
Restructure your outlook of what "outside" looks like and maybe we can start having some fun again.
Some of the quarantine memes are funny and restrictions definitely suck but did the outdoors really close? Perhaps the rules just changed a bit. If you're not living near Central Park, Union Square or Prospect Park in New York City, your playgrounds are possibly chained up. In my neighborhood, the NYC Parks Department took an extra measure by removing the basketball hoop across from my home several weeks ago. But let's be frank for a few minutes: If you're living in the United States, the outside never closed but it's doing a great job limiting our options on how we play on our free times, particularly in the fitness community. It might be safe to say that you're tired of this quarantine life because it's been at least six weeks. We've groaned, threw tantrums, experienced depression and mourned the loss of loved ones and things -- but when are we going to go back outside and possibly do something else?
Some of your fitspos may not be as inspiring if they elected to be fully transparent about their reasons for movement during a pandemic.
Every morning for 34 days, I woke up and made up my bed. The sheets aren't always perfectly tucked into the corners and the pillows are unkempt. Despite the imperfections, my bed is always made before I brush my teeth, use the bathroom or turn off the lamp in my son's bedroom. COVID-19 stripped practically every norm that's in my routine and I've been trying to make peace with the obtrusive disruption placed in all of our lives.
Living in the heart of New York City doesn't make it easy for me to be an adventurer at this moment. I've followed indoor training plans from my coach and at times, deviate to create my own workouts. Many watched and gave me endless kudos. "Great work." "Powerhouse." "Outstanding." "Incredible work ethic." I've heard every compliment extended under the sun and at times, they're accompanied with questions or those seeking guidance on how I power through. I kindly remind people to do what they can and not to compare their motion to their counterparts, including me. It's hard to dissect my logic but your admiration might be of someone openly grieving and on auto pilot-- actually I am one of those people.
Latoya Shauntay Snell
For my pretentious ass bio, check out the about me page but for anyone interested in who I really am, make me a good meal at your house and I'll tell you a dope ass story.
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