Once again, Charlotte makes me think. This post didn’t quite go where I thought it was going to – but I’ll try to tie it in a little at the end.

I am a recovering perfectionist. I still fantasize occasionally what my life would have been like if I had shunned everything and decided to really try for elite gymnastics. I wonder if I would have given it another 6 months of 100 hour weeks at my last job, if I could have finally turned it around and got the support and recognition we needed and deserved. I wonder what fitnessy pursuits I could have undertaken in my 20s if I wouldn’t have been so anti-athletics and gained a billion lbs. I wonder what life would have been like if I really dedicated myself to pursuing the acting bug that really caught me in college instead of being scared of being another diet-pill-addicted waitress in LA looking for her big break for the rest of my life.
Don’t get me wrong, I love my life. Really. Sure, I could pick out 10 or 20 little things I’d like to change, but mostly it’s the lazy stuff like more money, less stress from stupid shit at work that could be avoided by communication, a maid, a butler, a helicopter, etc. I love that I have a stable job in an industry I love and I get to do amazing things like audition, cast, and then direct professional actors. I love the wonderful Zliten I ended up with and nothing in the world could make me happier. I am proud of taking this big lumpy lump of clay that was my body 2 years ago and molding it into a pretty darn nice sculpture (if I may say so myself), and it can do things like run races and lift heavy things and dance for 3 hours and keep up with anyone doing just about anything. I have a group of great friends who are a hell of a lot of fun. I have a house which I am still seeming to be able to pay mortgage, so that’ a bonus.
But, truth is, I am not a beautiful and unique snowflake. I guess I’m lucky enough to have a variety of hits on my name that are actually me. I’ve enjoyed some mild internet fame as Sapphyra the drunken barbarian being interviewed on gaming websites and participating in podcasts. The pinnacle of my fame was a for real magazine distributed nationwide in the millions interviewed me and did a 2 page spread on my 3 year old game – which is actually a miracle. However, I really had (have) this big huge desire to be famous in some way. I want to leave my mark on humanity, and I want people to know my name as being truly excellent as…something. This drive is what causes me to really dig into something I love and want to be good at, and can make me crazy because I WANT TO BE THE BEST AT IT.
Instead, I am not the best at anything. I never got past level 8 in gymnastics. I never even got to state in diving (argh, by one place, both years!) and didn’t get an athletic scholarship for college. I had mostly bit parts in college theatre and sometimes didn’t even get cast. I’m middle management instead of overlord of my own project. I don’t have the fanciest car, best decorated house, and I can’t make it to all the cool parties I see and want to attend because I really enjoy my sleep in my old age.
After many years in life of wishing I could be really, really good at something and berating myself if I couldn’t, I came to a realization. I found that to be the best in the world at one thing (or even attempt it), you have to also give up being even moderately good at mostly everything else. Elite gymnasts have no lives outside the gym. People who live and breathe their jobs usually end up burnt, unhealthy, and sometimes alone. If you want to be good at something, you have to work for it. Extraordinary results require extraordinary effort (or something like that), and effort = time. Time is something we have a finite amount of, even if we are, in fact, perfect.
In the wisdom the comes with old age (yes, I’m going to milk this until it gets old…like me…zing!), it is apparent that I can only control what I do with the 24 hours I get every day, and just about nothing else. If I want to become a better runner, guess what I need to spend some of those hours doing? If I want to sell jewelry on Etsy, guess what I need to spend my time doing? It’s certainly not watching Iron Chef and drooling.
I’ve already realized that if I am NOT something, there’s no use dwelling on it. Instead of saying that I’m a horrible person because I forgot to get my doctor visit in before 30 and I’m lazy and stupid and I’m now probably going to die because they didn’t catch a rare disease with no symptoms early enough (ok, now I AM starting to freak myself out so I should stop that…tee hee), it’s first on my list of things to do and I’ll get to it when I can. Same with running a 10k. Same with finishing 10 jewelery items and selling it on Etsy. I’d say same with getting myself some new clothes/workout clothes, but I really don’t seem to have ANY problems with that.
If more people could treat themselves like their friends treat you (or they should treat you if you have crappy friends), then we’d be much better off. Next time you start having perfectionist thoughts berating yourself for not being something you think you should be, start coming up with a plan to become it. You can’t change the past, so it’s useless to lament over things that are there and only there. Chances are, it will either seem silly once you start scheming about how to become an elite gymnast at the age of 30, or it will lead somewhere you never thought you could go. I’m still working on it, but I’m not perfect. And that’s becoming more and more ok with me.


ork for all the paperwork and documents I do that month, I can also tweak my workout/eating/plan so it doesn’t get stale. I kept with it for a few months and it seemed to work, while I also followed some programs online
in his life and thinks that the pickles and lettuce on his triple cheeseburger counts a serving of veggies. On the other hand, he is SO curious about how the other half lives (or 60% or whatever the overweight statistic is now in the US) that he is going to actually risk damage to his body and become what he is trying to prevent. Either way, he’s going to gain a different perspective and probably some stretch marks to boot.
I totally approve of today. I woke up this morning at around 8am, got a full home weights session done, ran a 5k around the neighborhood, and all before popping into the studio for work. After a quick session, I met Zliten for a yummy salad bar lunch (during which I treated myself to not only a slice of pizza but ice cream with caramel AND nuts) and now am back at work for a bit. After work, there will be out to dinner somewhere (haven’t decided where yet, maybe vietnamese-not-pho, maybe somewhere else), some intriguing presents in brown bags waiting for me to open.
The most challenging thing about weight loss is always finding the sweet spot. I have no problem taking a to-do checklist, and submitting myself to the process, and then when everything is done, I should have attained my goal. Right? Well, of course not. I’ve had weeks where I ate pizza, sat on the couch, and lost weight. I’ve had weeks where I busted my ass, ate really healthy, and gained weight. It’s not a process that always makes sense. In fact, it usually doesn’t make much sense.
At my minimum, I am going to be eating 1300 calories per day. If I eat only 1300 calories per day – or 9100 per week (highly unlikely), I can do my minimum workout – weights, yoga, and 3 days of cardio (one DDR day, one long run, and one 5k run). Each 100 calories I eat on top of that equals another 7 minutes of intense cardio (DDR, interval runs), or 14 minutes of mild cardio (walking, ice skating). So, at my normal consumption now, I’m going to add approximately 77 minutes to my cardio per week (which adds another day + a little more on another day, which is normal). If I go crazy on the wine, cake, or wine cake, I do not need to have any fear, regret, remorse, or guilt. I just need to move my ass for a little longer. If I don’t feel like moving my ass vigorously, we can just go take a nice long walk.