Social Media…Farewell???

I am old.

Well, not really that old, but old enough to remember the days when I didn’t have a cell phone attached to my hand. If I wanted to talk to friends at night I had to sit with my coiled-wire Snoopy phone to my ear. I memorized the numbers of my closest pals because I dialed those digits so often, and even now I can still recall pressing the familiar “455” in order to speak with my best Pearl City pals.

Now I have an iPhone, albeit a beaten up iPhone 5, but it’s still a smart phone that enables me to contact friends from around the globe through my Facebook app. This same phone has it set so that I don’t need to memorize numbers to talk with people–all I need to do is press their name on my contact list. With this great technology, and it is pretty remarkable because I can now Google map how to get to a certain location without the stress of unfurling and refolding a paper map, is the sad fact that I can use my phone for good (checking movie times online instantaneously) but also easily get caught up with social media and all the distractions it brings.

For the past week, well, almost a week, I have refrained from posting videos of me squatting, benching, or deadlifting because I noticed that those activities were starting to define who I am. Namely, I didn’t (and still don’t) want my identity to be “that small girl that lifts a lot of weights.” Instead of immediately putting up a shot of my legs flexing when I pulled sumo or my triceps bulging as I attempted a bench PR, I have instead been putting up images on IG that show what I believe to be important–my family and God.

The first day I decided to refrain from showing the social media world my training for that day, I felt a bit off. Normally after I was done with lifting, I’d collapse in a sweaty heap on the floor, pick a video that I had of me lifting, add a quirky or cute caption, and then press share. But now, without having that normalized action in the cards, what would I do? I started to stretch more, which was nice, but then I just ended up going home early. And WOW. What a difference that made. I didn’t realize that I spent so long lounging in a sweaty heap, oggling over IG and FB. It was then that God spoke to me: Limit your phone usage. Don’t go online so much. Use your time to devote to me and your family.

At first I thought refraining from opening up my IG app would be a piece of cake, but then my lazy quiet time before bed hit, the time I normally would turn to social media to unwind. And I had to put my phone aside. Let me tell you, it was a challenge. I’m a bit ashamed to admit it, but there are many times at night, when I’m so mentally and physically drained that I would veg out scrolling through Stefi Cohen’s videos rather than play cars with Shogun. Or I could not move myself from the supine position on the living room carpet to play Shopkins with Misha, and instead chose to read up on Powerlifting Women on Facebook. It’s a sad tale, when the people I care most about, my children and husband, took a backseat to checking my online accounts.

So what did I do when faced that challenge? I hid my phone. Yes, you read that right. I put it out of view, still plugged in and charging to the wall outlet so my morning alarm would ring, but nowhere in immediate hand range. Keeping that device out of sight made it so that I was fully engaged with my children, whether it be rolling on the ground and tickling my daughter or putting together number and letter puzzles with the little boy. And what happened if the phone was in reach and I checked the screen to see my notifications? I immediately opened up my Bible app, and turned to a verse that I was meditating on that day.

It’s amazing that the longer I have been away from social media, the more I don’t really miss it. I am beginning to realize that I am not a person cut for moderation, whether it be with my phone, exercise, food, or, well, life. When I was in the throes of anorexia, I would either eat only a Subway sandwich a day and that was it, or if I ate more than that (oh, the horror!) I would end up drinking only diet soda and munching on carrots the following day to balance out the calories. One mile running was never enough–it was either 10 miles or nothing. In that same way, I can’t merely state that I’ll check my Facebook “just for a little bit.” I have to either set a time restriction for myself or not go on at all.

Similarly, my mind becomes very caught up in the images I see on social media. I admire women like Morghan King and Stefi Cohen, gals that are my height (yes, five feet and one inch tall!) and can lift way more than twice their body weight. But in reality, that will never be me. I’m learning to accept that fact, that God didn’t make me to deadlift over 400 pounds. And that’s ok. In my quest to rediscover who I am in Christ, Jesus has shown me that those females I loved watching on IG and FB are NOT me. Yes, I can have lifting goals. Yes, I can hit the platform because it’s fun to load up a barbell and see what I can do. But I’m not going to break world records because that is not the plan God would have for me. He designed me for something more, and although I’m not quite sure even what that looks like, I do know that my hope and identity is not in how much weight I can squat, bench, or deadlift. This revelation doesn’t mean I will stop going to the gym, but I am now training for a different purpose. I used to want to be Morghan or Stefi. I wanted to earn titles and accolades, to be first place in everything that I did. But those medals, they are not the reason I was placed on this earth.

One example of this is my recent decision to make a concerted effort to get up in weight. My RP coach wants me at least 107-109 pounds. My husband thinks 115 pounds is more reasonable. When those two first approached me about being those numbers, to be honest, I initially balked. Why? Because I could compete in the 97 pound weight class and qualify for a national competition. Given the numbers required to qualify, I could easily hit that now. But for what? Aren’t I in this sport to challenge myself? To see myself grow as an athlete and individual? Isn’t part of the draw to powerlifting putting in hard work in order to show that perseverence is a key to success? Shouldn’t I want to test myself and go beyond my comfort level? If so, then staying at 102 pounds would be ridiculous. I need to gain weight in order to actually do some “hard work” on the platform.

And so I am at the place now where I am eating to be heavier–107, 109, 110, 115 pounds–because I know that that additional weight makes me stronger physically as well as mentally and spiritually. I can’t engage in the sport of powerlifting whole-heartedly if I am not at a weight that allows me to push myself and see what physical strength God has blessed me with. Similarly, I am also going to continue to refrain from looking at my Facebook and Instagram for extreme amounts of time, save for a random five minutes or so while lying in bed before falling asleep. And while I do miss seeing hilarious memes and reading even more hilarious threads, I am enjoying the moments I actually get to spend with my family. God is showing me more about Him in the weight gain and social media restriction process, and it leaves me in awe at how He has been able to use scripture to do so (more about that in a later post). But for now, I think I’ve spent enough time on technology. It’s time to put away the device, play with my kids, and live life.

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