Om

Alright, don't get me wrong.... I love yoga and all but I CANNOT take "om"-ing. The spiritual connection is part of it, as is the meditation, the inner sense of self, and the "just be" stuff. I actually do buy into it and I do feel it - I meditate in the beginning and closing parts of yoga - I picture myself on top of a mountain that overlooks a beach and the ocean at sunrise, and I just sort of pretend I'm there and think about nothing but the peace of it. I am not opposed to trying some of the methodology to see if it works, and I do believe that parts of it do work for my own relaxation.

However, last night I tried out a class of Jivamukti at a studio in my new town and I was beside myself. The lecture about the yogi's natural inclination to vegetarianism and loving animals WHILE we were holding a head stand (for 5 minutes, mind you) was just too much for me. At a certain point, when the attempt at creating peace and relaxation for someone does the exact opposite, I think it has gone too far.

As a side note, not only did I go to Kroger immediately after class to pick up some fresh cut meat, but I'd also be willing to bet that I was the strongest person in that class. I'd like to thank all of the animals I've eaten for that.

I am used a very mainstream kind of power flow yoga (taught by a wonderful woman in Atlanta named Karen) with a touch of getting into the spiritual part/meditation. I am NOT used to a mini-sermon about the connection to the divine throughout the yoga class. I am sure that works for some people, but I was so uncomfortable. Secondly, the yoga positions were called out in their real names. We didn't go through "warrior 1," "warrior 2," "triangle pose," we went through "utthita trikonosana," etc. Yes, I had to look that up. I was two steps behind everyone because I didn't know what the heck I was supposed to do next whether or not I was capable of doing it.

In my opinion, there is a huge group of people who could be brought into the benefits and health of yoga if it wasn't always so granola. I certainly am one of them. Do I want to go back to that class? Yes and no. I loved it because I love yoga, but I don't want to go because I was uncomfortable. My husband FOR SURE would never make it through that class because we'd be kicked out the second he started laughing at the singing/om-ing with the accordion at the beginning of class. However, my husband DESPERATELY needs to improve his flexibility and stability, and I think yoga could be a solution for him... which brings me back to my point that there needs to be some type of middle-ground.

Are there classes out there for people who are not beginners, have probably intermediate-to-advanced level strength and flexibility, and who just don't want to sit there and listen to the mini-sermon about the divine while singing the "Jivamukti song" (as I'm calling it since I have no idea what was going on right then)?

Whole Life Challenge

I've sort of gotten back into working out. SORT OF. Work has been crushing me lately (new job + extra responsibility = working late) so I've been missing my 6:30PM CF class because frankly, I can't get there on time.

This past week consisted of doing the WOD at my house (thank goodness my husband was diligent in building his workout equipment collection and it's all in the garage) on Monday, taking Tuesday off because I didn't get home from work until almost 8, RUNNING (yes, running) on Wednesday as fast as I could for 15 minutes after a quick burpee and kbs warm up, Thursday off, Friday doing the FTC WOD in the garage (it kicked my butt), Saturday running again, and today - who knows at this point. I guess that is better than nothing, but I am remarkably weaker than I was back in May and June when I was so CF inspired.

I am doing two things to re-motivate myself. The first is a team CF competition in 2.5 weeks at CF Boro at Georgia Southern. I joined a team with a friend from work since he needed a 3rd girl to round out his co-ed team. The second is the Whole Life Challenge. I need to find a way to be more diligent, be held accountable, and to stay engaged and motivated. It's an 8 week deal and I'm trying to sucker other friends into doing it too so that I have more support. My gym members are joining too, so hopefully I can get some help from them too.

As a final note, garages are 10 degrees hotter than outdoor temperatures here in the summer in Savannah. Realistically, that makes for a TOUGH time doing WODs in the garage (I'm too shy to go out in my front yard and do them). It was 88 degrees outside when I did the WOD on Friday. The temp reading in the garage was 97. I mean, I at least deserve some props for sticking that one out.... right?

Still There

I'm still there. I'm still in the slump. And now I have excuses, which makes it even worse. Work has been crazy this week and so I was at work til 7 or later every night, making it impossible to get to even the last CF class of the night. This has NOT helped!

On only two occasions this week did I muster the energy and motivation to do a WOD on my own in my garage. I need to find a way to not punish myself mentally for this, either. I usually work out 4x a week. So... why not work out Thurs, Fri, Sat and Sun instead of M-Th? Maybe that will be my approach.

If I fail again, I will aim for waking up at 4:30am to get it in before work (but we all know THAT won't work, so it's a bit silly to even think about it). Seriously, who are those people who get up to do that? I'm not sure I would do that even if you paid me.

I'm fighting through this and trying to find new ways to get myself out the door again. Help!

Slump

I'm hoping that everyone goes through a period of time where their numbers haven't improved, burpees suck more than normal, suddenly skills have diminished or disappeared, and lying to yourself about the weight on the bar is the only way that you can actually lift it.  I'm in a 3 week slump. In fact, I haven't worked out in 8 days as of right now. I've tried googling "workout rut" to find inspiration and i really just end up wanting to smack the lady who is holding a plank and smiling, or that woman running carelessly through a field as if it is the greatest joy in her life. I'm currently disgusted by happy work out people. What is wrong with me!?!

Maybe it really is that i'm plateaued and not improving and subsequently discouraged. Maybe it's that I've made too many excuses for why I should take some time off. Maybe it's that my body has stopped changing even with diet alterations. Maybe it's that I have some underlying anxieties that need to be addressed. I seriously just don't know.

I watched the Games last night on tv and talked to Heidi on the phone for an hour (she's a stuntwoman in NYC and a CF coach as well), got really revved up and convinced myself that I was going to do a quick HBBS strength set followed by a 15 min AMRAP as soon as I woke up this morning.... but all it took was a little rain, the comfort of my bed and accessibility of my remote to convince me that a better way to wake up was watching terrible movies. I keep excusing it by looking in the mirror and thinking "eh, I can still see my abs, i'm good" and by doing an occasional handstand against the wall next to the tv during a commercial break. This has to end. I have promised myself that I will work out tomorrow after work, and at least every day until my sister gets here on Thursday.

How do I break out of this rut? Do I need to set a new goal? Do I need to do a competition and get my ass handed to me again? I can tell my emotional health is very directly related to my physical health, so that seems to be falling apart as well. Help!

The Iron - Henry Rollins

I read this and it gave me chills....

The Iron
Henry Rollins
(I snagged this from here: http://www.oldtimestrongman.com/strength-articles/iron-henry-rollins)

I believe that the definition of definition is reinvention. To not be like your parents. To not be like your friends. To be yourself.

Completely.

When I was young I had no sense of myself. All I was, was a product of all the fear and humiliation I suffered. Fear of my parents. The humiliation of teachers calling me "garbage can" and telling me I'd be mowing lawns for a living. And the very real terror of my fellow students. I was threatened and beaten up for the color of my skin and my size. I was skinny and clumsy, and when others would tease me I didn't run home crying, wondering why.

I knew all too well. I was there to be antagonized. In sports I was laughed at. A spaz. I was pretty good at boxing but only because the rage that filled my every waking moment made me wild and unpredictable. I fought with some strange fury. The other boys thought I was crazy.

I hated myself all the time.

As stupid at it seems now, I wanted to talk like them, dress like them, carry myself with the ease of knowing that I wasn't going to get pounded in the hallway between classes. Years passed and I learned to keep it all inside. I only talked to a few boys in my grade. Other losers. Some of them are to this day the greatest people I have ever known. Hang out with a guy who has had his head flushed down a toilet a few times, treat him with respect, and you'll find a faithful friend forever. But even with friends, school sucked. Teachers gave me hard time. I didn't think much of them either.

Then came Mr. Pepperman, my advisor. He was a powerfully built Vietnam veteran, and he was scary. No one ever talked out of turn in his class. Once one kid did and Mr. P. lifted him off the ground and pinned him to the blackboard. Mr. P. could see that I was in bad shape, and one Friday in October he asked me if I had ever worked out with weights. I told him no.

He told me that I was going to take some of the money that I had saved and buy a hundred-pound set of weights at Sears. As I left his office, I started to think of things I would say to him on Monday when he asked about the weights that I was not going to buy. Still, it made me feel special. My father never really got that close to caring. On Saturday I bought the weights, but I couldn't even drag them to my mom's car. An attendant laughed at me as he put them on a dolly.

Monday came and I was called into Mr. P.'s office after school. He said that he was going to show me how to work out. He was going to put me on a program and start hitting me in the solar plexus in the hallway when I wasn't looking. When I could take the punch we would know that we were getting somewhere. At no time was I to look at myself in the mirror or tell anyone at school what I was doing. In the gym he showed me ten basic exercises. I paid more attention than I ever did in any of my classes. I didn't want to blow it. I went home that night and started right in.

Weeks passed, and every once in a while Mr. P. would give me a shot and drop me in the hallway, sending my books flying. The other students didn't know what to think. More weeks passed, and I was steadily adding new weights to the bar. I could sense the power inside my body growing. I could feel it.

Right before Christmas break I was walking to class, and from out of nowhere Mr. Pepperman appeared and gave me a shot in the chest. I laughed and kept going. He said I could look at myself now. I got home and ran to the bathroom and pulled off my shirt. I saw a body, not just the shell that housed my stomach and my heart. My biceps bulged. My chest had definition. I felt strong. It was the first time I can remember having a sense of myself. I had done something and no one could ever take it away. You couldn't say s--t to me.

It took me years to fully appreciate the value of the lessons I have learned from the Iron. I used to think that it was my adversary, that I was trying to lift that which does not want to be lifted. I was wrong. When the Iron doesn't want to come off the mat, it's the kindest thing it can do for you. If it flew up and went through the ceiling, it wouldn't teach you anything. That's the way the Iron talks to you. It tells you that the material you work with is that which you will come to resemble. That which you work against will always work against you.

It wasn't until my late twenties that I learned that by working out I had given myself a great gift. I learned that nothing good comes without work and a certain amount of pain. When I finish a set that leaves me shaking, I know more about myself. When something gets bad, I know it can't be as bad as that workout.

I used to fight the pain, but recently this became clear to me: pain is not my enemy; it is my call to greatness. But when dealing with the Iron, one must be careful to interpret the pain correctly. Most injuries involving the Iron come from ego. I once spent a few weeks lifting weight that my body wasn't ready for and spent a few months not picking up anything heavier than a fork. Try to lift what you're not prepared to and the Iron will teach you a little lesson in restraint and self-control.

I have never met a truly strong person who didn't have self-respect. I think a lot of inwardly and outwardly directed contempt passes itself off as self-respect: the idea of raising yourself by stepping on someone's shoulders instead of doing it yourself. When I see guys working out for cosmetic reasons, I see vanity exposing them in the worst way, as cartoon characters, billboards for imbalance and insecurity. Strength reveals itself through character. It is the difference between bouncers who get off strong-arming people and Mr.Pepperman.

Muscle mass does not always equal strength. Strength is kindness and sensitivity. Strength is understanding that your power is both physical and emotional. That it comes from the body and the mind. And the heart.

Yukio Mishima said that he could not entertain the idea of romance if he was not strong. Romance is such a strong and overwhelming passion, a weakened body cannot sustain it for long. I have some of my most romantic thoughts when I am with the Iron. Once I was in love with a woman. I thought about her the most when the pain from a workout was racing through my body.

Everything in me wanted her. So much so that sex was only a fraction of my total desire. It was the single most intense love I have ever felt, but she lived far away and I didn't see her very often. Working out was a healthy way of dealing with the loneliness. To this day, when I work out I usually listen to ballads.

I prefer to work out alone.

It enables me to concentrate on the lessons that the Iron has for me. Learning about what you're made of is always time well spent, and I have found no better teacher. The Iron had taught me how to live. Life is capable of driving you out of your mind. The way it all comes down these days, it's some kind of miracle if you're not insane. People have become separated from their bodies. They are no longer whole.

I see them move from their offices to their cars and on to their suburban homes. They stress out constantly, they lose sleep, they eat badly. And they behave badly. Their egos run wild; they become motivated by that which will eventually give them a massive stroke. They need the Iron Mind.

Through the years, I have combined meditation, action, and the Iron into a single strength. I believe that when the body is strong, the mind thinks strong thoughts. Time spent away from the Iron makes my mind degenerate. I wallow in a thick depression. My body shuts down my mind.

The Iron is the best antidepressant I have ever found. There is no better way to fight weakness than with strength. Once the mind and body have been awakened to their true potential, it's impossible to turn back.

The Iron never lies to you. You can walk outside and listen to all kinds of talk, get told that you're a god or a total bastard. The Iron will always kick you the real deal. The Iron is the great reference point, the all-knowing perspective giver. Always there like a beacon in the pitch black. I have found the Iron to be my greatest friend. It never freaks out on me, never runs. Friends may come and go. But two hundred pounds is always two hundred pounds.

This article originally appeared in Details Magazine

Zarkana

The incredible physical feats of those in Cirque shows blows my mind. I have a new appreciation for HSPU. Watching Zarkana was like going to a CF competition; it showed me how much potential the human body has and showed me how much further I can go. Between the acrobatics, strength, flexibility, coordination, and stamina of those performers at Zarkana, I was having a hard time convincing myself it was NOT a good idea to go home and try some of those things! On top of that, the music was amazing. I highly recommend it, although I was told it is not the best show in Vegas. That was news to me!

I also had a great time at CF Apollo and got my collectible tshirt. However, I have to say that South Georgia 100 degree weather is way worse than Las Vegas 100 degree weather. There is no "wall of heat" there, it is just hot. Here.... whew. Totally different kind of hot. However, hot is hot, but the WOD wasn't bad (in my opinion).

Viva Las Vegas

I just checked into my flight tomorrow. I'm headed to Vegas for the first time... meeting some good friends out there, checking out the Hoover Dam, Mt. Charleston, the Strip, a Cirque show, and of course talking CrossFit.  

 

I'm excited to check out a great box as well - CF Apollo.

Wish me luck on my first trip to the desert (my business trip to Yakima doesn't count). I hope I run into Garth Brooks.

Paddling Furiously

This weekend, Dan sent me a quick blurb about a guy in his company who saved many of his brothers lives through his actions. Because of this, I have been thinking long and hard about heroes - especially unsung heroes.

 

This week's Hero of the Battle of RC-East is U.S. Army Private 1st Class
Wallace Santos, of Bravo Company, 3rd Battalion, 7th Infantry Regiment,
4th Brigade, 3rd Infantry Division. While on patrol in eastern Logar
Province, Santos' platoon was ambushed. The heavy volume of RPG and PKM
fire pinned his squad behind a dirt berm. The platoon sergeant attempted
several times to make his way to the machine gun team at the front of
the formation to assist with movement to a position to return fire at
the enemy, however, he was unable to move due to the accuracy and volume
of enemy fire. Santos, realizing the dire situation he and his platoon
were in, immediately stood up and began to fire his M249 at the enemy
position with a cyclic rate of fire. His suppression caught the enemy
off guard and allowed his team leader to rotate up and engage with his
M320 and rifle. The machine gun team was able to get into the fight and
shoot several bursts, which caused the enemy to break contact. His quick
and decisive actions undoubtedly saved the lives of his comrades.

The longer I thought about it, the more I realized that heroes are typically average people who act extraordinarily in extreme circumstances - not that "superhero" perception I'd been tossing around before. However, I realize that a lot of normal people act extraordinarily all the time because their personal situation warrants it.

As I look around at so many people being cool, calm, collected and then look closer at their circumstances, I have to say that I do not give people the credit they deserve. Whenever I think of them, I think of the visual of the duck: smooth on the surface but paddling furiously underneath the water.

All the guys in B Co, 3-7... heroes. They are seeing and doing so much, they are putting themselves out there and giving it their all, they are always in danger. Four of them already have PHs, all of them are standing by one another, carrying on, and completing the missions in front of them without pause because that's what they were tasked to do - and want to do - no matter how hard it is. The ability to go for such a long period of time while maintaining such focus in variable and questionable circumstances is amazing to me. They are out there to keep those of us here safe, and for those people there who are relying on their success for even the smallest semblance of the safety we have here in the US. Prior to a previous deployment, I asked my husband if he would still do this if he knew he wasn't going to come back - if he would be willing to leave his life, his wife, his family, his future behind knowing he'd die. His answer was something like this: "I would rather stand up for my country, do what she asks, give my all, do what is right, defend those who can't defend themselves, and give it all than sit here and watch someone else do it for me...knowing I could have and I should have."

I couldn't argue with that.

Although very different from the tales of battle, I heard stories this weekend from one of my very best friends and gained insight into his father's strength, bravery, and persistence; he did everything possible in the toughest of circumstances, gave up everything and risked even more for his child, and raised a son who looks up to his dad more than anyone else. JT's dad is a hero for sure.

Driving around RH, I see tons of ladies with their "Army Wife" sticker on their car, 2 kids in the back seat, and the look of exhaustion on their face. Their husbands are gone, just like mine. They deal with sickness, death, fear, stress, and all of the difficulties of life alone... and make it seem effortless. They are heroes too.

And all of these people.... they do not ask for credit, they do not "toot their own horn," they do not see themselves as any different or any better than anyone else. Their selflessness and perseverance affect those around them so greatly that there is no way they shouldn't be seen as superhuman. After all, our lives aren't changed for the better by mediocre people.

I'm not sure what this has to do with CrossFit or working out. Actually, it has nothing to do with it, but it was on my heart because I have recently been amazed by the strength and courage and fortitude of so many people in my life...I had to share it.

After Two Weeks

After two weeks of time off, I was fortunate enough to be able to rejoin my old box and complete the CFEC Assault Course. I suckered Hannah into doing it as my partner (after all, it was time for pay back for #4#), and had a great time completing the WOD that Chris and Jason designed to mimic a military mission. It just seemed appropriate for me to do it since Dan is in Afghanistan doing missions all the time - I wanted to honor him by completing it. It took us almost 2 hours, but I am proud of us for pushing through and doing the RX weights. (Thanks to Hannah for the photo mash-up after we finished)

Two notable things:
1. After contemplating injury vs soreness, I got a medical opinion. We have been doing a lot of heavy overhead lifts at FTC for the past few weeks (lots of C&J and snatches), and I had developed tendonitis (an overuse injury). I took the advice I was given, which was 2 weeks off, lots of ice, some stretching, occasional NSAIDs, and will power to not do anything stupid. Most of that was easy (minus the "don't do anything stupid" part), and since I had my heart set on the Assault Course, I figured it'd be worth it to wait in order to have the chance of completing it. Clearly it was, I am on cloud 9 after finishing without any pain or any reminder of the tendonitis that I'd developed. Lesson learned: listen to my body, and keep my ego out of it.

2. Long workouts require different nutrition intake than short WODs. I didn't eat enough before the WOD, and I didn't eat enough during the WOD. I could feel myself wilting even though I was taking in plenty of water. The unfortunate thing is that once you realize that you are hungry, it is too late. Three-quarters of the way through, I asked Hannah if she had any food. Fortunately for me, she did, I ate, and felt like superwoman afterwards. Once that nutrition kicked in, I could have kept on going - lifting, pulling, jumping, climbing. Without it, I could hardly lift a 45# KB. Lesson learned: give my body what it needs to do what I'm asking - - PLAN.

I am very grateful to Chris and Jason for allowing us to drop in and do the CFEC assault course. Since I am done without any pain (with the exception of very minor soreness since I am sure I lost a little bit in these 2 weeks of beer drinking and couch sitting), I am raring to go and have found the motivation I had lost due to the discouragement of poor performance during the tendonitis. It has brought new motivation and excitement. I can't wait to get back into FTC this week and start pushing through again.

My Castle

I saw this and absolutely loved it.

Where Are You Going?

The other day, I got a phone call from an old friend. We talked about times past, but the number one thing I noticed was that he was constantly talking about the person he used to be - - the "badass" things he'd done, the successes he had - - and it occurred to me that he was still living in that time. As I thought about it more, I realized that one of the best ways to hold yourself back is to keep looking behind you. Where is he now? What is he proud of now? What is he working toward every day? The answer (in my opinion, not his) is nothing.

In training and in life, it is imperative that we live in the present and look toward the future. For me, it will ensure that I can get out of bed each day. And, if you know me, you know that recently that has been difficult for me. What am I looking forward to today? What am I working toward for tomorrow? What am I doing to prepare myself right now for what is down the road?

I was so sad for my friend. To be honest, I don't care who you WERE a few years ago. I don't care if you were a professional athlete 5 years ago. I don't care if you were a SEAL 5 years ago. I don't care if you used to have your own business but it shut down and now you're just trying to "figure out what's next." Frankly, no one is impressed by the person who reveals to her friends that she was homecoming queen in 1999. Sure, the past is formative, but it is not wholly definitive. Forward motion is determined by your current and present movement, not by the journey that has already transpired.

Back to my preliminary thoughts regarding the present and how this mindset of living in the present and looking toward the future is relevant to my daily trip to the box. I can translate this into training goals:

Goal:
1. DL: 220, BS: 150, BP: 110, SN: 85, PC: 115
2. 16.5% body fat (translation: 6 pack abs)
3. 5:50 mile
4. 12 dead hang PU
5. 3 unbroken MU

Work Input:
1. Work out 4+x/week
2. Focused nutrition and protein intake
3. 7-8 hrs sleep/night
4. Consistent schedule
5. 96 oz water/day

It takes small steps and a focused mind. Everyone should be looking forward, not behind. To me, there is little that is more sad than being proud of who you USED to be. It is so important to look in the mirror and be proud of who is looking back at that moment. To succeed in training or in life, you have to know where you are and where you want to go. Otherwise you'll keep spinning your wheels like my old friend trying to figure out how he ended up where he is, but so proud of where he used to be. Move forward. And remember: Proper Preparation Prevents Poor Performance.

Changed

I went to Kroger last night to pick up my groceries after my WOD. In the beer aisle (of all aisles), I was stopped by a 47 year old man who asked me how he knew me. My answer, point blank, was "you don't." He tried figuring it out for a bit, continuing to be unsuccessful in his guesses, and the conversation took a turn to what I do for a living, what I do for exercise, what I do for fun, education, hobbies, etc. I guess my "resume" of activities isn't terrible, and he filled me in on his (he was a Marine who worked Presidential guard duty for Reagan and Bush, who was now divorced, alone, and overweight).

As he continued talking, I could tell he was sad, so I tried to reassure him of my favorite thing: if you want to make a change in your life you just have to start with one thing. I also gave him dating advice: don't date. Find something you love and do that and you will inevitably meet someone who is not looking for love, but looking to fulfill their passions. That leads to things in common, friendship, and potentially love. People fail at finding love because they look too hard for it and try to force it, not because they are incapable of it.

By the end of the conversation (which lasted probably 20 minutes), he told me that God put me into his life to help him open new doors. He told me that the 20 minute conversation changed his life, and he thanked me excessively.

It got me to thinking: who/what in my life has opened a new door or changed my thinking? This is important to acknowledge because I believe it has happened a few times and has altered the course of my life by changing the way I make decisions. My education has changed my life. My work in Asia has changed my life. CrossFit has changed my life. My friends have changed my life. Dan has changed my life. Even disappointment and failure and heartbreak have changed my life.

This train of thought led me to another VERY important conclusion: in order to continue to live happily, I have to continue to grow. In order to grow, I HAVE to allow new doors to be opened and I HAVE to change my thinking. To live life is to be changed. And although that guy in Kroger may truly believe I changed his life, I'm pretty sure his graciousness has changed my thinking... and that's the start to a brand new beginning.

Congrats to Danj

Congrats to Dan for taking command of B Co, 3-7 IN last week!

CFEC Assault Course

THIS.



I did half of it this past Friday when Jason and Chris were nice enough to let me drop in at CFEC. Anyone want to partner up and do the full version with June 29 when I go up to Atlanta for the weekend (assuming Jason will give me the green light on it)? Please? I expect it to take me around 1:40-ish.

Nutrition Hurdles

One of the biggest pieces of training is nutrition. I have been an athlete since I was a kid (quite literally, my first 5k was when I was 6 years old), and until one month ago, I didn't even pay attention to nutrition.

New aspects of any training regime are often the most challenging, but this time, it is by far the MOST challenging part of my routine. Point blank, I suck at nutrition, but I am working on it. This whole "nutrition" kick started for me sometime around the end of March/early April. When Hannah and I signed up for #4#, I wanted to make sure that I actually weighed in at the correct weight (if I weighed in heavier, I'd have to lift more - and who wants to do that?!) so I began to pay attention. During this time, I was training harder, and reading about how to eat as an athlete. I kept stumbling across this CrossFit "pyramid" and the base of it was nutrition. I'd heard it, I just hadn't really bought into it, nor had I really been coached on it extensively. It can be mentioned and drilled into my head, but until it is written on the white board, it seemed like an afterthought and a fleeting conversation topic that I'd go back to later.

I've always been a complete creature of habit: I wake up at the same time, eat the same things, drive the same route, etc This applies to my life as well as to my training, obviously. And, as I've said before, if I want something to be different I have to start doing something differently; this time it is eating.

After a lot of research about paleo, I've decided paleo isn't necessarily for me at this point in my life, but I am focusing more on the "zone diet," which is a 40-30-30-esque protein/carb/fat balance diet. (http://library.crossfit.com/free/pdf/cfjissue21_May04.pdf). The zone diet is a pain in the rear at first, you actually have to weigh your food. I bought a $19.99 food scale at Bed Bath and Beyond, but I've learned that you actually really only have to weight your food for about 2 weeks until you can pretty accurately eye-ball it. This diet works well for me since I have absolutely no issue eating the same thing all the time.

The first thing I learned from weighing my food was that I WAS NOT EATING ENOUGH. At first, I thought it was ridiculous that I couldn't be eating enough considering most 20-something females are going out of their way not to eat "too much." I was a little paranoid about it at first because regardless of how much I train or how much I read, I still fear "extra weight." Could I trust the numbers and the math and the science (this question is being asked by an engineer....)?

As always (when it comes to quantitative or scientific proof), the answer is "yes."

Suddenly in mid-May, my 1rm's went up for EVERY one of my lifts. I started doing full WODs with a weight that I had maxed on it April. I did the MU. I mentioned this to my coach, and he asked what changed. Honestly, until about a week ago, I didn't know... and I told him that at the time.

This week it dawned on me - it's because I'm eating more and I'm eating better. When I told him, he laughed at me and said "well yeah, if you want to lift more, you have to eat more." Although not surprising logic, it was to me until now. In fact, I can recall doing workouts with my stomach growling. Now, I go all day without a single rumble thanks to the alterations in my diet.

As a final note, I'd like to say that I abhor eating. However, let me quickly elaborate. I do not hate the act of eating something awesome, but I hate thinking about what to eat, planning what to eat, preparing my food, eating it alone, and cleaning it up. This whole nutrition thing is not only a planning process, but it is a chore. However, as I look at the building blocks of strength, stamina, and health, I realize that nutrition is the foundation. That damn pyramid is right. I just needed some proof, and now I feel like I'm on track to adding this piece to my puzzle so that I can continue building.

Nutrition. What a pain. But definitely something to keep watching.

Now I just need to get my body fat measured (accurately) and see if I can make changes to my composition based solely on my eating habits.

Soreness versus Injury

I probably ask this question too many times, but how do you tell the difference between muscle fatigue/sorness and the initial onset of an injury?

Sure, I have been sore before - countless times, but over the past few weeks I have been experiencing some spasming, "hollowness," and tightness along my left shoulder blade, over my back, down my bicep, and even in my forearms and fingers. As I felt my back tonight, I could feel a huge knot that would actually pull on my forearms when I pressed down on it. I realize everything is connected, so it makes sense, but is this sensation the beginning of an injury? Is it just that I need a massage? Is it just that I need a rest day? Is it something to ignore and push through? Admittedly, it is negatively affecting my performance.

I think a lot of athletes struggle with this, especially when they are pushing toward the next level as I am. When is enough enough? When do you stop? It is not just a physical battle but a mental one as well. How do I keep this from discouraging me or getting in my head? This is drastically affecting my focus.

Always telling others to take a day off when something doesn't feel right, I feel like the biggest hypocrite in the world right now as I debate packing my bag for my WOD tomorrow. I don't want to let my 1 hour per day of working my butt off slip away tomorrow. I look forward to that one hour. But is pride standing in my way? Fear? Lack of knowledge?

How do you tell the difference between soreness and injury?

Superheroes

Last night I watched Hancock for the first time. If you haven't seen it, it is yet another superhero movie with Will Smith and Charlize Theron. As the hero theme unfolded, I found it seriously motivating yet somehow disheartening. I think we all want to be heroes - we want to be the person who went above and beyond who made a different and whose efforts were recognized and appreciated. Straight up, we all want to be a badass...but at the end of the movie, HOW do we get to be the kind of badass we dream about?

I have been giving this a lot of thought because I think I struggle with this constantly. I have a tendency to surround myself with people who are extraordinary in the things they do. I married a special ops guy from West Point, my friends have masters degrees and PhD's in all kinds of engineering  - working on stuff they can't even tell me about, others are Olympic Trials qualifiers, former professional and collegiate athletes, and others are quite literally some of the best performers or givers in their industries, communities, churches, and relationships. Everyone excels. So what is that thing inside of me that makes me look at someone and deem them a hero - and what is that thing inside of me that would make me feel that way about myself?

If you have ideas, I'd love to hear them. I don't think many of us perceive ourselves correctly or in the same light that others see us - whether good or bad. What makes a hero? How do we get there on a personal level? How do we make ourselves feel like we've accomplished the impossible? My only guess is achieving a goal, and then the next... doing what we could not do before. I think I dream too much of being better than I am that I forget to celebrate and refine the me that's in this moment.

And on that note, you should watch this (it's less than two minutes long):

http://www.youtube.com/embed/S8qyrPErF9Q

Competitions

The CrossFit Regional competitions have been going on for the past few weeks. I have been doing my best to catch a few events online during the live broadcasts from time to time, and if I said I was intimidated, it would be the most drastic understatement you have heard all day. It reminds me of my first day in the box back in October, when all I could think was that I was in way over my head. Nonetheless, time goes on, and we all improve.

I think the best way to judge progress and become newly motivated is to challenge myself. Frankly, if I don't set myself up for failure from time to time, I never get any better because I never figure out where I lack. Therefore, a few months ago when my friend Hannah decided she wanted to compete in a Pound for Pound competition (scaled to percentage of body weight, not just a scaled/unscaled weight for everyone), I decided to join her. Hannah has been doing CF for 3.5 years, so I was pretty intimidated to be her teammate - I didn't want to let her down. But I also wanted to do something that challenged me.

The competition changed me. For a few weeks prior, I started watching what I was eating (as in, I tried my best to cut down on the fried comfort foods and beer), I tried sleeping better, I got one-on-one training and tried to be a good student (to my coach) so that I could become a more efficient athlete, and I tried to visualize my WODs before I did them. Then the day came to make the drive to Montgomery. Hannah and I jumped in the truck, bags packed full of protein bars, coconut water, speed ropes, athletic tape, ibuprofen, and at least 10 changes of clothes, put on some Macklemore and Ludacris, and got pumped up.

The WODs were tough. When we finished the first one (which I have decided was the hardest 12 min AMRAP of my life), I wasn't sure if my hamstrings were going to permit me to do anything else that day, and the thought of having another WOD in 45 minutes scared me to death. However, I was so pleased with our performance. I couldn't have pushed harder, I couldn't have gone faster. I left it all on the field (as you can see in the photo). The feeling of knowing that there is nothing I'd have done better and there was no way I could have given more was quite fulfilling.

The second WOD was a 1rm weighted pull up (25.5 # for me, which was a PR considering I'm 110 pounds), Hannah did a 1rm ground to overhead on an axel bar, and then we did a 3 min row for average watts. My coach had me do that earlier that week, and I crushed my average from that attempt. Again, I walked away completely pumped, knowing I had gotten better and that I'd  left it all out there.

The third WOD was the most intimidating WOD for me. My coach and I had worked on it earlier in the week with less weight, and it destroyed me. I was scared I'd have to rely too heavily on Hannah. But... I could hear my coach's voice in my head - "open your hips," "straight up," "turn your wrists forward," "fix that back." I'm not really sure what got into me, but it all worked, and I felt like a rock star on that WOD. In fact, when we got done, I was nearly glowing because I was so excited about our performance.

And then we did something stupid.... we looked at the standings.

As it turns out, there were only four all-female teams, so we were thrown in with the men and co-ed teams. That changes the game. A lot. Hannah and I had no trouble finding our names. We were at the very bottom, battling for last with the other 3 women's teams.

There was a 4th WOD, but at that point it was irrelevant. After being so proud of our performances, finding out that we were last was devastating. I have to admit, though, that it almost didn't matter to me because I was so proud of how hard I had worked, how much improvement I had seen in such a short period of time - and proud that we didn't wuss out and compete in the intermediate division instead of the advanced division. But... we were at the bottom. The very very bottom.

I think that whole experience was incredibly important. It taught me some great things that I will constantly carry with me, and that I remind myself while watching Regionals. I'll list a few. There are plenty more...

1. The most important competition is the one with myself inside of my head.
2. There is always room for improvement.
3. There is always someone better, faster, stronger, and more committed.
4. Failure is relative, as is success.
5. Learn from my mistakes.
6. Ask myself: "If I could do this all over again and do it differently, what would I change?"
7. Fall down, get back up.
8. Ask more questions.

I mentioned that it changed me - that is very true. I've kept up the "diet" and switched to as many whole foods as possible throughout the day. I've asked for help from my coach a lot more. I've watched the girls who are better and studied what they are doing and working on my weaknesses. I've decided that being comfortable with the level that I am at is not an option. I've started researching more, and last but certainly not least, I've gained an immense amount of respect for those who are at the top of this sport - moreso than I could have ever imagined.

Competition can either discourage you or push you. I need a swift kick in the ass every now and then. Hopefully I'll get another one soon.

Afghanistan Run

I told my husband (Dan) about my attempt to write a blog that ties my CrossFitting, thoughts, goals, and life together to show the triumphs, struggles, and stagnations. He was quite supportive, and he took a few minutes to compose an entry for me. I hope you enjoy it - straight from Afghanistan about 60 miles SW of Kabul.

Work can be tough. It can drone on an on with meetings to attend, deadlines to meet, and bosses to please.  It wears us down, sometimes both physically and mentally, no matter how much we love our jobs and coworkers.

 

Eastern Afghanistan is tough too. The altitude itself, almost 7,000 above sea level, can take a toll on ones lungs.  The air is dry and so is the ground, which means that the rain turns every inch of ground into mud.  That is, the ground that is not already covered by craggy rocks. The land is actually fairly flat, except where hills and mountains jut up out of nowhere with steep slopes.

 

Combining work and Afghanistan is even tougher.  Here work is seven days a week and "home" is nothing more than a 8x8 plywood room (if you're lucky).  Despite many people's belief that the war is over, the reality on the ground is that the enemy is still present.  We have to work seven days a week, because that's what the enemy works.  You are always subject to being woke in the middle of the night, having to work till the small hours of the morning to prepare for the next day, or having to detour a route because of indirect fire or IEDs. Nothing ever goes as planned.

 

It's easy to make excuses here. "Personal time" is never quite what it is in the states.  Your family isn't around.   There are no comfy couches to stretch out on. There are no cold beers to drink.  It's easy to feel a little down.

 

With all this, workouts can be tough too.  The gym is always the same people and eventually having the gym as your only personal time can get to be a little depressing.  Add in the hours spent walking the hills in body armor, helmet, and weapon and you start to come up with yet another excuse as to why you shouldn't have to put in a full effort.  After all, isn't this what I trained for?  Wasn't walking the ground and fighting the war WHY we work so hard?

 

In ways, it is.  The stakes are higher, but this is now my event, just like hockey, baseball, and lacrosse were in a former light.  All my life my workouts have been about training for the next event.  Sometimes I was "bulking up" (relative term for my body type for a military school or an athletic season.  Other times I was working towards a running, biking, or triathlon race.  It's easy to just take it easy once you're finally done "training."

 

Today I broke through all this garbage on my run.  Actually it was my second run. I ended the first run and felt a little bit of energy so I practiced a few core lifts. I left the gym feeling tired, but wondering why I felt so mentally weak. 

 

For me, I then chose to run again.  Running is in my family's blood.  We all do it. It's my favorite exercise even though I know it's the area of my training which needs the least actual repetition.  But the lesson learned on this run was not about running, it was about the mind.

 

I picked a steep hill on the base, the only steep hill, that goes up to a guard tower overlooking the land to the west. I started with one sprint and came back down unsatisfied.  It was at that point where I realized I needed to push harder.  This wasn't about running, or entertainment, or personal time, or training.  This was about giving everything I had NOW.  This was TODAY'S chance to achieve my best.

 

I climbed the hill four more times, each time wheezing at the top as if I couldn't breathe normally if my life depended on it. I literally gave it everything I have.

 

It made me feel good, to give everything I have.  It was painful and rejuvenating in a way that we sometimes forget.  i trained for TODAY.  I set aside the soreness, the rest plan, the excuses, the possibility of tomorrow's pain, and everything else. I literally give it everything.

 

 

 

 

 

Small Goals

This week I did my first ring muscle up. I made that a goal a long time ago, prior to Dan's deployment. I haven't worked on it much, but I decided to give it a try this week... I'm quite pleased.

Aside from the muscle-up, the past few weeks have been extremely emotionally trying for me. I am not an openly emotional person, so to admit that and to feel it so strongly really tells me something about how I am feeling. I've moved to a new place, started a new job, found a new box, left my friends, and taken on this new chapter alone. However, the motivator that keeps running back into my head when things seem amiss is my desire to stay focused and push forward. Laser focused...and pushing with the force of trying to get a damn prowler to slide across the concrete.

What do I want? What do I need to get that? To be honest, I have flip-flopped between feeling focused and on track, and lost and confused. This translates directly into how I view my mental health in regards to my training, but it is all amplified right now by the change in my life. But training, as a result, has become the one thing that I can rely on and focus on.

Training is full of ups and downs. I went through a period of time where I had the same 1RM's for 5 weeks. FIVE weeks. It even got to the point where I was sucking it on every workout, and was discouraged and tried convincing myself that taking time off was the only solution. Sure, a rest day (or two) here and there were acceptable, but I'm talking 2-3 weeks of rest that I was desperately fighting off. But... being alone DOES have its perks... and one of those is the desire to not be alone....thus my regular drive to the box. The one thing I learned during this period of time was that I don't need to judge myself day-to-day based on a long-term goal. I need to set the goal, the action plan, and the small marks along the way to mark my progress. If I had done that when ridiculing myself for not maxing one week to the next, I would have noticed that I wasn't using a band for pull ups on any WOD anymore, and that I had bumped up my KBS weight on WODs from 26# to 35#. However, I was too blind to celebrate that and became discouraged.

Set goals, and understand that there will be set backs. If there is one thing that has become crystal clear to me in the past few weeks, it is that the road to the achievement of any goal is not a smooth, fast, or easy road. For me, at times, it has become difficult to see that road at all. I can't even enumerate how many times this week I have wanted to say "I can't" or "this is too hard." Truthfully, I completely feel that way in those moments. Having to talk myself into wanting the things I've started chasing after is extremely disheartening. But taking a few steps back, looking at the big picture... this WILL NOT be easy, this WILL NOT be fun all of the time, this WILL NOT have immediate rewards, and this WILL inevitably make me break. But the breaking points will be bumps along the road, and the journey will take time. That is why in life, and in training, setting small goals, taking small steps forward, and rejoicing the triumphs of that journey (not just the completion) is completely critical to the experience itself.

So today, amdist the loneliness, confusion, and sadness that I have felt perpetually with all of these changes, I have decided to celebrate, even if it was just a Muscle Up.

Beginnings

I have been doing CrossFit since October 17, 2012.

In the past 7 months, I have learned a lot about my body, how it reacts, how it changes, how it doesn't change, and what I want it to do. CrossFit has been a great solution for me at his junction in my life. I am a former long course triathlete who tore her meniscus rounding third and heading for home in a beer league softball game in 2011. After a surgery, multiple months of PT, and new diagnosis, my non-dissolvable sutcher has started to make its way out of my remaning meniscus, causing erosion and swelling in my joint. I am destined for a knee replacement before I turn 40. And so, I have bid farewell to my long rides from Atlanta to Alabama and back on my bike, my countless hours pounding hot Georgia pavement in mid-July in my size 6.5 Mizunos, reduced my training time by 75% and improved the way I feel, operate, train, and look.

CrossFit has changed my mind, my opinions, and my approach to traditional training routines. I will never tout it as the solution to everything. I do not believe that, nor do I preach it. In fact, every time I get on my bike to ride for 90 minutes, my legs burn and I'm completely smoked (and I find myself singing Alicia Keyes "Girl On Fire" song and changing the words to "my legs are on fire..."). My friends call me a "closet CrossFitter" because I don't talk about it a whole lot with people who don't do it, but it is changing me, and I want to talk about it with people who want to hear about it. I think the most important thing is that people find an exercise routine that works for them: whether it is raquetball, zumba, yoga, flag football, or excessively long bike rides. An active life is all I care about for anyone, but for me, my current solution is CrossFit. I want to share my journey.

When I started, I did it because I needed to commit to exercise again. In July 2012, I crashed my time trial bike at 24mph into a retaining wall and broke my collarbone. I was unable to do anything for 2 months, and once I was cleared again, I ran into more knee issues and got discouraged. My husband insisted I do ANYTHING, and then reminded me that CrossFit existed. I am notoriously a cheap ass, and my husband mentioned that if I had to pay for something, then I'd likely commit to it for fear of losing my money. He was right.

The first day, I walked into CrossFit East Cobb and was scared to death. A month earlier, I couldn't lift my arm above my head, and since, my muscle atrophy was so bad that watching some of those girls lift over a hundred pounds and do pull ups intimidated me to no end. However, the number one thing that I kept reminding myself was that I wanted to change, and to change, I have to start doing something differently. Plus, this wasn't a competition with those girls, this was a competition with myself. Lindsay vs. Lindsay. Day 1 was discouraging, so I decided that I would start tracking how much I was lifting so that I could see progress.

Here are my first week's numbers:
Dead Lift: 95#
Back Squat: 85#
Bench Press: 65#
Power Clean: 55#
Shoulder Press: 45#
Squat Snatch: 25#
Pull ups: 0
Dips: 0

I can remember wanting to throw up. I can also remember looking at some of the other girls and thinking "wow I want to be like them." Secretly competitive, I was constantly shown that I had a long way to go, and I finally decided that was perfectly ok. But, the question started to become "where exactly am I going with this?"

This brings me to another point that I am sure I will begin to talk about as I continue to blog. What are my goals? At first, my goal was to do a pull up. I can cross that off the list. Done. I can do seven dead hang pull ups now. Then it was to be able to do kipping pull ups. Done. Then it was to do an Rx workout. Done. A few times over, in fact. I've set small goals for myself along the way. Admittedly I get so discouraged when I don't hit those goals, but I keep aiming for them. I will write more later on the whole topic of goal setting and why it is important. I am not one to set a goal and take no action - and I think it's important to share with others how to reach goals, not just set them. Stay tuned.

The final thing I'd like to talk about is comeraderie. My husband is in the Army and tells me I will never understand the bond and the brotherhood. Whereas I do believe that, I think the closest thing I've experienced is cheering hard and being supported by my friends at my gym. I met two great girls at my gym, Andrea and Sarah, who would ALWAYS cheer for me, push me, encourage me, and give me a nice shove across the shoulder and say "awesome job, that sucked!" I recently left my gym because I moved four hours away. I didn't have it in me to tell anyone but one person that it was my last day in the box. When I finished the WOD, I had to just leave. I couldn't turn around. I am not one to cry, but there was a huge lump in my throat. I had to get in my car and just drive off... I felt like I had just left my family behind.

I'm sure I will write a lot about each of these things as I continue to blog about my fitness journey. But signing off here, I want to do a comparative to my first week's numbers for you - as proof that it does take time, but it DOES happen - and clearly I still have a long way to go.

Dead Lift: 200#
Back Squat: 135#
Bench Press: 95#
Power Clean: 105#
Shoulder Press: 70#
Squat Snatch: 75#
Pull ups: 7
Dips: 11