I don’t know who this is. She is too cute to be me or SHM, but she reps the concept well.

Anyone who knows me well knows that every once in a while, Self-Hate Mary (SHM) makes an occasional appearance, oozing sarcasm, playing depressing Counting Crows songs on repeat, and devouring chocolate, cheese and wine (not at the same time). Not to be confused with “Scary Mary,” the boss who thinks her employees actually laugh at her jokes because she is funny and not because they have to, SHM completely disregards my usual awesomeness and reminds me of my every imperfection. Contract drama and angsty employees at work, repeated injuries, bad eating habits and resulting weight gain, messy house, never enough time to get things done, always  letting everyone down. She is merciless.

Motivational lyrics by Counting Crows, a SHM favorite

I usually find a way to I kick her to the curb and move on, but not without some wailing, gnashing of teeth, and in depth heart-to-hearts with my husband and savior, St. Thomas of Peoria/aka CrossFit Gary/aka Mr T/aka TFC/aka the most interesting man in the world.

Our talks usually go something like this:

SHM: Blah, blah, blah. I suck. No one appreciates me. I’m fat and I suck.
St. Thomas: You’re amazing. You can do anything you set your mind to. You should do ______________.
SHM: You don’t get it. Blah, blah, I suck, no one cares, I can’t do anything right. I shoulda, coulda, blah, blah, blah.
St. Thomas: You should do _______________. Just make the decision to do it.
SHM: It’s not that easy. Why are you arguing with me? Blah, blah, blah. I suck.
St. Thomas: Is this is one of those conversations where I am supposed to listen to you whine and NOT provide solutions?

So… the bitch is back this week and she has been telling me that I am not working hard enough, I’ll never get over my injuries, I’m getting fatter and weaker, I’m old, I fed my children PopTarts 20 years ago thereby stunting their physical and intellectual growth, I don’t call my mother enough (sometimes she’s actually right). The other night St. Thomas and I had a rare moment alone while we were driving to dinner. The focus of our conversation was on my struggles to take better care of myself.

SHM: I know what I am supposed to do: eat better, cook at home, take my fish oil and supplements, get to the gym more, wear my knee brace, wear my night guard, take an anti-inflammatory, sleep got better, etc. I just hate having to do all of these things that are now required to maintain my health. Ain’t nobody got time for that.
St. Thomas: You just don’t like being told what’s good for you, and you only like to see immediate results.

I can’t even.  Hasn’t this man learned anything in 30 years?

So, we went to Chuy’s Tex Mex and made delicious but less than optimal food choices. As he flagged the waitress down to pay the bill, I pulled out my phone and hammered out a couple of moves in “Words with Friends.” He rolled his eyes at me. He is serious gamer, one who thinks his gaming habits (late at night in the dark with a laptop with Sharknado playing in the background while ignoring any surrounding life forms) are more socially acceptable than my rookie habits (in broad daylight on an iPhone while ignoring any surrounding life forms). I cursed my opponent who just ruined my winning streak. St. Thomas could barely conceal his contempt. On the way out the restaurant, he had an epiphany.

St. Thomas: You know, maybe you should treat your life like you do that game.

Say what? Instantly I knew what he meant. I love my game. In fact, I am obsessed. I started playing a few years ago, but the fixation grew deeper a few months ago when I finally downloaded a some updates and realized I could track my stats. I saw my performance compared to my regular playing partners. To my surprise and horror, I was unbelievably mediocre! I had the exact same number of wins and losses. Before WWF Stats Awareness Day, I played lackadaisically—with no vision. After that day, my life changed. Now, every move matters. I play often and I try to maximize every move. I monitor my performance every day. Slowly but surely, my wins have surpassed my losses. Sure, I have a lot of mediocrity to overcome—I was 750 games in when I started paying attention and I had some bad habits to break. My goal is to win twice as much as I lose, and that’s going to take some commitment. Because I play at least an hour a day, I know I will get there. Now I have awareness, a goal, and the drive to succeed. Some days I will make bad choices, other days I will kill it. Some days I may not have time, but I always come back with a vengeance. One recent evening, my peace-loving non-competitive daughter, disturbed by my evil cackles as I stomped on a “friend” by playing a 95 point word, declared me “sick.” I don’t care. I am a Word Warrior.

It’s taken me months to get my wins to surpass my losses by 20 games.

St. Thomas of Peoria was actually right! You don’t have to be a genius to see how beautiful his analogy is on so many levels. If I spend as much time on my health as I do my game, I will become more badass! If I put as much time into each life decision as I do into the letters I play, I will suck less! If I track my numbers by logging and monitoring my weight, food intake and exercise, I will have a better sense when I am “winning.” If I involve friends, I will be more likely to stay on track and succeed. If I take some time off, I can always come back and start over. More importantly, if I make decisions when I am drunk or tired, I will live to regret it! When it comes down to it, the real fun is in the playing and not the winning, right? Life is not a destination, it’s a journey, right? Well, no. Actually, winning is pretty great, whether it’s at WWF or my health.

St. Thomas IS a genius, but he didn’t invent this gaming concept. There are a lot of life hacks and apps out there on the Interwebs to help me gamify the challenges in my life. Recently on a lazy Saturday afternoon when we were binge-watching some TED Talks on Netflix we came across one by Jane McGonigal about the importance of gaming. She says that gaming actually builds mental and emotional resilience and “provide the perfect platform for mastering life-changing attention skills.” Her book, Super Better is number one on my list of books to download and never finish. I need all the help and tools I can get my hands on if I am going to keep SHM at bay.

And so I begin… formulating a plan to reprioritize and gamify my well-being. Surely I can incorporate my love of shopping into this venture. I KNOW there are some new products I can buy to get this party started (a new high-tech scale, a Fit Bit, some new CrossFit Nano 5.0s maybe?).

I am off to a good start. I already have a great trainer, a supportive family and CrossFit community, and my own personal saint for daily consultations. I will always be on the lookout for a quick fix. I will continue to rage against aging and people telling me what to do. Every time I grab my phone to squeeze in another WWF move, I will remember my real life opponent and how I won’t let her get the best of me. My skirmishes with SHM will not disappear forever; after all, she is an integral part of my psyche. Self-Hate Mary makes me a stronger person, an understanding boss, and a compassionate coach. But maybe now, SHM can actually be my friend–one who challenges me and makes me a better me, even if I have to kick her butt from time to time.