Survival of the Fittest
I'm not going to lie. The last three months I spent before coming to jail were extremely debaucherous. I had finally accepted I was going, and I had ingrained the belief in myself that I would make it a productive, transformative time that was an essential part of my journey, but until then, I decided I was going to whoop it up. I will not get into too many of the details, but let's just say I didn't really spend much time at the gym. Now, as I was reading this to some of my fellow inmates they jokingly rolled their eyes because I am pretty tiny now, but just because I wasn't overweight doesn't mean that I was healthy then. I have always been relatively smaller, but after those last three months, my body needed a break. The holiday season didn't help either. I wouldn't go as far as saying I let myself go, but I also didn't really try to look after myself.
My family has always been really health conscious. I have my mother to thank for that. Growing up, I was always enrolled in some sort of athletic program or member of various sports teams, and always drooled over what other kids had like “Lunchables” and “Passion Flakies” because my lunch usually consisted of natural peanut butter on whole wheat bread, with a “Fruit-to-Go” for dessert. Other kids never wanted to trade snacks with me, go figure. As an adult, I have kept up my healthy eating habits - not so much on my drinking habits - so was a bit anxious about coming to jail until I heard how the food plans were structured. I was also initially nervous about the exercise opportunities, but soon was confident that I wouldn't go stir crazy after I read about the recreational facility at Grand Valley. I knew that this journey was going to help me take back control of my health in three ways, I would: (1) say goodbye to all the calories from cocktails, (2) repair the emotional concussion that cocaine use had caused, and (3) finally put my exercise plan into effect by committing to a solid routine. I was definitely feeling like a sluggish, bloated beluga whale the day I surrendered. I didn't want to just lose the vodka pouch that had attached itself to my stomach, but I was determined to build muscle, tone, and get used to regular eating and more normalized sleeping habits. I had lost so many productive work days by being tired and/or hungover, and I was irritable more often than normal. My plan was to make prison a purposeful experience and embrace the detox. No cell phones, booze, cigarettes, or drugs. It was time to divorce myself from my unhealthy relationship with substances; I was single and ready to mingle with sobriety! Going into prison with this predetermined mindset was a significant contributor to making the most of the experience.
I spent the first ten days of my sentence in Vanier Centre for Women, a provincial correctional facility. It was pretty horrific, but I had been there before - when I first got arrested - so I knew what to expect: very limited exercise, previously frozen and processed food served on trays and poor sleep; the lights never went off, even at night. Nothing I couldn't handle for ten days. We got 15 minutes of outdoor exercise or "yard" time per day. The yard was about 50 ft x 50 ft, and everyone just walked in circles like zombies in oversized prison coats. When we weren't locked down, which was rare, we were able to walk around our cell block, which was pretty small too. On my first day I started doing plyometric workouts in my cell. Because I have always exercised, I knew how to put a basic workout together. My "celly" (i.e. cell-mate) was on methadone - a substitute to help with withdrawal symptoms for heroin users - and always sleeping, so she didn't mind. I was also lucky to get to share the small space with a friendly and quiet woman. She could have been a raging lunatic, or my mother’s worst nightmare, a sexual predator looking for their next conquest (she watched too many prison themed TV shows, LOL).
We got all of our meals on trays, and I usually just ate the meat and vegetables. I tended to avoid the FOUR SLICES OF BREAD served with every meal. I also stuck with water, and usually traded my sugary juice crystals for meat or fruit chunks. Juice crystals were a hot item! A lot of people didn't eat their vegetables, so I often got double or triple servings. I used my knowledge of healthy eating habits to my advantage. I was in no position to recommend what to eat to others, that would have definitely annoyed the hell out of people anyways. Survival of the fittest!
When I moved to the federal institution medium security unit after those dreary ten days, I found the food system to be structured completely differently. Instead of receiving food trays with rotating weekly varieties like I did in provincial, inmates cooked all their own food. We were supplied with a weekly budget, and each inmate got to spend $38.01/week. We chose from roughly 440 items, and then we prepared all of our own meals. The houses are equipped with a kitchen which has all the typical appliances. The budget has a variety of food choices covering all food groups, and even has decent vegetarian, vegan, and gluten free options. I tried to order some gluten free items once and got yelled at by the kitchen manager because I didn't have a medical requirement. The library also has an array of cookbooks that provided inspiration and direction for the less experienced cooks (aka, me). The budget really stressed me out the first few weeks and I even went to see the psychologist to help me. It's not that I didn't know what to eat because I definitely did, it's just that I had no idea how to spread out the $38.01 over everything I needed. In real life, I would spend that on an ahi tuna salad and some truffle fries. How the hell was I going to take what I usually spent on one meal and spread that amount over the course of the week?
After a few weeks passed, so did the anxiety. I got a few of the girls in my house to help me, and implemented the suggestions from the counselor. Nearing the end of my sentence, I actually had food left over from the week before! I have also learned to cook classic suzy homemaker meals like roasts and casseroles. What a turnaround! At least now I am not completely useless in the kitchen. Home economics grade = A+. OK that's a lie maybe B+.
Even though there was a slight delay in getting a balanced nutrition plan under control, I was able to start my exercise plan right away. Grand Valley had a full size gymnasium, workout machines, homemade free weights - empty detergent bottles filled with salt - and a TV for fitness videos. They had volleyball on Wednesday nights, but most of the time people didn't take it very seriously and just hit or kicked the ball in sporadic directions, while casually strolling off the court without notice. Every morning there was a group of girls that did the fitness videos together, and anyone could join. I usually did some running on the treadmill every other day, and created basketball focused workouts. Unfortunately, I strained my shoulder working out, and had to go see the physiotherapist. Turned out he was super good looking so it wasn’t that unfortunate after all, and I ended up “having shoulder pain” more regularly. I also liked doing the group classes because the other girls kept everyone motivated, and it was at the same time every day. Inmates also use the outdoor track to walk around in their free time (and talk shit, LOL); one loop is 400m, so you could get a decent amount of exercise within the free time allotted.
Four months later, I moved to the minimum security unit. Here almost everything was considerably downsized. The whole complex only housed 35 women, and the space available to exercise was scaled back...a lot. The "gym" consisted of one treadmill, one elliptical, a bike, a rower and a stepper, and these were in the same room as the library. As you can imagine, there was always bickering between the librarians and the gym go-ers, especially around the music volume. The identity of the genius who put the library and the gym in the same room remains unknown. Thankfully there was another room with mats, weights, a small trampoline and a TV for video workouts. No one really did the video workouts. Hilariously, they used the TV to watch movies instead. Unfortunately, both rooms were not air-conditioned, so during the summer it felt more like a hot yoga studio, while free space in the much cooler and more spacious basement sat unused.
Needless to say, after 10 months, I feel great. l have definitely lost the vodka pouch, and have been doing so much running I got shin splints and had to take a break. I get up at around 8 am every day, which is an hour or two earlier than I would have a year ago, and I sleep like a baby. Now that I feel the benefits of a steady routine, I know how important it is to maintain them in the community. Prison served as a microcosm of the outside world, and nearly all the tactics I used I will continue to use in my daily life. To summarize, I have added a small list of how I stayed motivated and active:
Spend less time planning your workout and more time doing: Just force yourself out the door. Try the group classes first. If you are nervous about being in a group setting, the video workouts are good too.
Put on workout clothes and shoes: Just like getting in your pajamas signals your brain to get tired, putting on workout clothes does the opposite. It’s an easy first step to accomplish. Plus you just begin to feel guilty lying in bed with an Adidas track suit on.
Ask a friend: I had two friends that were personal trainers mail me in workouts every so often. This kept my individual workouts unique and made me use different muscle groups. There was also a woman inside who was a personal trainer who did individual sessions, free of charge.
Utilize workouts in magazines for inspiration: The prison library had subscriptions to countless women's magazines. Head to the health section and you will always find quick 10-15 minute workouts there.
Hang out with like minded people, duh: There are so many different groups of people in prison, spend more time with the ones that regularly exercise. In my experience, people that workout are usually welcoming to other people that workout, so just get out there.
Stop accepting baked goods: When I wrote this an inmate had dropped me off two pieces of cake. It was 10:15 am...a very kind and thoughtful gesture but that amount of sugar that early in the morning is definitely not a good start to the day. A ton of people bake in prison, which is why many people end up gaining weight rather than losing it. Say no to daily baked good deliveries, or accept it and secretly give it to someone else who will enjoy it more.