LoLo

This weight loss journey has been long and daunting. It has also been exhilarating and life changing. It’s the hardest thing I have ever done but also the best. I, I, I, me, my. Words I use a lot, especially when I am blogging. Crossfit is a huge part of my journey but Crossfit is not about me and I. It’s about we, us, partner, family and team. I write about the stories of my journey but I am not on the journey alone. I have many friends who are in the midst of their own quests, whether they just started running to show their daughters that they can achieve anything they put their mind to or training to qualify for the Crossfit Regionals or making this the year they truly become that endurance athlete they have always dreamed of, they all have such inspiring stories. I am grateful that my journey has crossed paths with so many others, but I am truly fortunate to be a part of someone else’s. 

Five thirty a.m. is dark and miserable, in the winter it is raw. Getting out of bed before the sun comes up is difficult but getting up so early to exercise is simply miserable. Knowing I have a partner who is going to meet me at the box each morning makes all of this bearable. Lauren and I have a pact, we will push each other to lift a weight heavier than we think we can, use a heavier kettlebell or make sure that the other doesn’t stop running when we are tired. Supporting and competing with each other comes naturally for us because we have similar goals and similar struggles.  We lift close to the same amount of weight and we both run as slow as hell…but we push each other to be better and make sure the other never quits.

I remember when Lauren first started Crossfit. She would put some weight on the bar, far too light for her, searching for her 1 rep max of a movement. She would giggle and say, "that was good enough; I’m not as strong as you.” It would make me crazy because she wasn’t lifting nearly as much as she could have. After constant harassing and bullying from me she has started to lift heavier, probably to just shut me up.

Tuesday the workout was “The Chief.” Max rounds in 3 minutes of 3 power cleans at 95 lbs for women, 6 push-ups and 9 squats. Rest 1 minute and repeat for a total of 5 cycles. We put a few plates on the bar to start to build up to the 95 lbs before beginning. The 95 lbs felt heavy but was doable during the warm-up. I think the clean is one of the more difficult movements for me. I have a very hard time lifting it quickly and then landing under the bar to lift it. I started the WOD with 95lbs and struggled. I kept dropping the weight. I wasn’t able to get a second round of power cleans done before the 3 minutes were up. During my pushups and squats our coach lowered my weights to a manageable (barely) 85lbs. I was frustrated and disappointed with myself.

As I was struggling with my weights I glanced over at Lauren. She was doing the 95 lb power cleans. They were heavy and they were hard for her. But she didn’t give up. With every clean she was pushing herself to the limit mentally and physically, giving it everything she had. Her face was red and the sweat was starting to drip from her forehead. I am sure her arms felt like they were going to fall off and her legs felt like they were going to buckle every time she lifted the bar but it didn’t stop her. I wanted to stop my own workout and just cheer her on. Her grit and sheer determination to finish the entire WOD without decreasing the weight even though it was a struggle, was awe inspiring.

I wasn’t jealous, not even for a moment. I didn’t care for a second that this woman who several months early was afraid to lift heavy was now passing by me. I was just so grateful to be there for this part of her journey. Whether she was conscious of it or not, Lauren started lifting for herself. She had gotten over her insecurities of being “big and strong” and was empowering herself through weightlifting and strength training. She always said she wasn't as strong as me but in reality, she has always been stronger, she just hadn't found her strength yet.

Thanks Lolo for letting me part of your journey, because you are a huge part of mine. Thank you for pushing me, literally at times, and never letting me quit. Thanks for helping me push through the tears and working past the temper tantrums. Thanks for showing me that if I want it bad enough I too can find that strength and determination without wavering.

Year two of my fat to fit journey got off to a slow start but my friend has given me the motivation and inspiration to kick start it.

Top 11 of 2011

Last January I made a concious decision to change my life, and I did.  I swore that I wouldn't look back on my year and be filled with regrets because I let another year pass being to fat to participate in my own life.  I just wanted to lose some weight and call it a day,  I never planned for the journey that awaited me.  Not only did I lose over 50 lbs but I changed my life in ways I couldn't have expected.  It really is overwhelming when I actually take time and think about the past 12 months.  I don't think I could find the words to explain what this year has been so I am going to sum it all up with my Top 11 of 2011.


11.  Crossfit.  As I have explained before, "CrossFit is fast, intense workouts that work you at or near your maximum capacity.  The workouts are sheer, gut-wrenching physical challenges that can often leave you bloodied and on the verge of puking.  It's about you, the reps and the clock, no one else. As individual as this is, it’s also about the community.  When a workout leaves you lying on the ground in your own sweat, panting, too exhausted to stand, your Crossfit family gathers around and completes the last round with you, even after they have completed theirs and are barely able to stand themselves.  It's the same family that cheers for you as you cross the finish line or pushes you to lift more weight than you ever have before.  They tell you to try again when you fail and support you until you do it.  Your success is their success."  

The Women of 5:30 am

10.  Weight Lifting.  Strong is good.  Strong is healthy.

9.  My first 5k.  I remember reading the WOD last March and being scared to death.  I "couldn't" run and got tired at the thought of walking 3.2 miles, forget actually trying to run it.  But the great thing about Crossfit is that trying things outside of your comfort zone becomes your comfort zone.  I hated every minute of it.  I wanted to vomit.  But I did it.  Run, walk, run, walk, walk, walk, run.  I was so proud, especially to finish with these amazing people who came back to run the last 1/4 mile with me.  Who would have known that this would be the day that would start my love/hate relationship with running?

"Sprinting" while Kristin and Cara walk!  I thought I was fast that day.

8.  Paleo Diet.  Basically meat, vegetables, some fruit, some nuts and healthy fats.  It's hard but it works.  I feel better when I eat clean like this.  My body responds well to it.  I just wish I had enough willpower to commit to it without fail.

7.  Branford Road Race.  The race I spent my life imagining I could do.  I thought I was ready and I did the 5 miles and didn't come in last.  The BRR was one of the biggest lessons learned for me over the year.  I put far to much pressure on myself unnecessarily.  I may have been physically ready but I was nowhere close to being mentally ready for it.  I was instantly overwhelmed and never enjoyed it.  My running partner, and dear friend, smiled and laughed the entire time.  Encouraging me the entire way (and the entire year.)  Next year I will run a better race and I will enjoy it as much as Kelly did. 

I saw this about 50 feet from the finish and smiled.  I finally remembered what this journey was all about.

6.  Tuesday Night Running Club.  I don't enjoy running. I definitely don't love it.  But I do not hate it as much as I used to.  Running every Tuesday night getting ready for the Tough Mudder with "my team" made running more tolerable.  The heat, aches, pains and many miles were made better with the support and laughter of friends.  Thanks so much Deb, Gail, Kelly and Lauren (my morning running partner) you guys make me hate running less.

5.  Salem Road Race.  This was hands down the absolute hardest of all the 5K's I did.  Hill after hill after hill.  My greatest fear of finishing last was realized.  I was "breakdown the finish line she's finally here" last.  The only thing behind me was a police car and a long line of cars begging me to finish so they could open the road. 

Leah came back to help me finish.  See the police car and traffic?

4.  Tough Mudder.  12 miles and 19+ obstacles in the mud and ice cold water in November. I trained for it and I felt strong and ready.  I finished and was so happy to share the experience with friends and have my family waiting at the finish for me.  I had fun and will do it again next November.  I never blogged about it.  I thought about my blog entry many times but every time I sat down to do it I couldn't find the words.  I know it sounds strange (especially because I was part of a team) but the experience was so personal for me that I couldn't really put it into words. I am not so sure I really want to.  Just know it was awesome and I pushed myself beyond anything I ever imagined.  Next year I will lose more weight, train harder and do better.

3.  Blogging.  Starting this blog has been one of the most balancing things I have done.  It keeps me accountable and honest, if not to anybody else at least to myself.  I have even gotten some really positive feedback from strangers.  I wish I had more time to write.  

2.  Friendships.  When I started this journey I wasn't planning on making any new friends.  I intended to go work out, do my thing and be done.  I was mistaken, thankfully.  I have made some new friends that I know will be lifetime friends, in the box or not.  Our relationships have grown beyond diets, lifting, running and commiserating about workouts.  They have become a beautiful balance of support, respect, honesty, admiration and some straight up ass kicking when we need it.  I have also reconnected with old friends.  Rebuilding our relationships and remembering fun times while conquering new challenges together has been such a wonderful thing.  

1.  The best thing of 2011 for me has been the love and support of my Family.  It has never mattered what I have done, my family has always been there for of me, but now, I can see the pride in their eyes when I cross a finish line or chatter incessantly about the different workouts.  They don't understand why I do the insane WODs, the races or the crazy, muddy, obstacle courses but they encourage me and support me every step of the way because I care about it and they love me so that makes it important to them.  They are there every step of the way, supporting me and cheering me on.  I am blessed.  I am lucky.  I am going to continue to make them all proud.

Team Elder (often there are several others) How cool are they?

As I move into the second year of my journey I am excited to discover what's in store for me but I am also a bit anxious because 2011 was been an unbelievable and unforgettable year.

Tough Enough?

A friend said to me last week that I seemed nonplussed by the Tough Mudder. She was right. I have been pretty excited about it. I have really been trying to look at it as one 4 hour Crossfit WOD. I know I will push myself harder than I have ever done before. I will face obstacles I could never dream of overcoming but I will try them anyway. Above all, no matter how hard it is, or how beaten and exhausted I am at the end, it will be one of the best things I have ever done and I will want to go back for more...just like Crossfit. If all else fails, my friends are really strong so they can carry my lifeless body across the finish line. Hey, as long as I finish, right?

I have been “training” for the past few months and trying to plan my strategy for the day. I remember “running” the Branford Road Race and cringe every time I think about it. I was grossly under prepared for that day. I finished it but didn’t have any fun and don’t have many positive memories of it (next year will be different.) I don’t want that to be the case with the Tough Mudder. I want to have fun. I want to laugh and I want to be proud when it’s over. I want to finish the race and I don’t want to get hurt, so I have tried to prepare as much as possible for Saturday. I have been doing a lot of running, although the reality is that there is not a whole lot of running at a Tough Mudder. Most of the running is up hill, over obstacles or with a large tree stump on your shoulder. I am really not worried about that, it is what it is, if I have to walk some I will. See no worries, nothing to panic about. Then I saw this….. 

Chernobyl Jacuzzi

It is exactly what you think it is. A large “pool” filled with water and about six gazillion ice cubes. The purpose, well there is none. It’s just jumping in and getting to the other side and climbing over a wall to get out. It's just another obstacle to prove how tough you are. This is a new obstacle they added at an event last month. It seems it was torturous enough that they felt the need to keep it. When I saw this picture of the Chernobyl Jacuzzi I also learned that the Tri-State course now has 32 obstacles instead of 19. Clearly electrical shock, running through fire, scaling 15 ft walls and tackling 12 miles isn’t torture enough. http://toughmudder.com/events/tri-state-2011/tri-state-2011-course-map/

Needless to say my nonplussed attitude has since changed. Calm, no worries, whatever, has turned into sleepless nights and anxiety. I cannot stop thinking about the different forms of torment they will be putting us through and how incredibly cold we are going to be. There is no training that can prepare you for the cold and wet.  Am I really tough enough for this?  My excitement has been waning.... until last night.

When you are fat there is nothing you dread more than clothes shopping. The only thing I could think of that is worse is workout clothes shopping. There is no fun to be had for a fat girl trying to squeeze her large body into spandex and lycra that doesn’t even look like it will fit a small child. Regardless, the Mudder is going to be freezing and I needed some compression clothing. It is the only thing that will keep you warmish.

My friend lent me some of her Under Armor compression. In the privacy of my home I tried everything on, dreading every second of it. Shockingly, the pants were fantastic (as far as compression pants go) but being somewhat claustrophobic, and having to wear this tight anyway, I just couldn’t do the smaller sized shirt. Wearing it for 3 minutes sent me into a panic. I needed a to get my own shirt. This meant a trip to Under Armor. Again, fat girl, fitness clothing and an athletic store where said clothing runs small. I was not in a good mental place.

I am pretty upfront about the fact, real or not, that I do not feel like a runner and I do not have the look of a runner. My last experience like this (SoundRunner Old Saybrook) was horrific and made me feel pretty bad. If I didn’t think I could possibly die from the cold water at the Tough Mudder I never would have gone there. It is around the corner from my house and I have never been solely due to my own insecurities.

I had my plan. Head down, make no eye contact, talk to no one, get what I need and get out. I checked the labels on the clothes I borrowed so I knew exactly what I was looking for, no need for help from an associate. You know what they say about the best laid plans….. I couldn’t find it! They switched to their winter wear and all the labels said “cold” gear not the “heat” gear I needed. I don’t know if it was the lost and panicked look on my face or the quick shuffle from one wall to the other, but I drew the attention of the athletic, handsome, young manager. Follow the plan. Make no eye contact, tell him you don’t need help, but you do…..AAarrrggghhhh! I told him what I was looking for, he decided to turn it into a lesson on cold versus hot and the many different uses of compression. Just point to it and let me get out of here. He proceeded to take his sweatshirt off and show me that he was wearing the Cool Gear because of the time of year it is.  Really, is this necessary.  Just get out of here.  What's a little cold water.

I told him I really needed the Heat Gear because the other one was too thick and I need something to dry quickly.  Here it comes. Why? What are you going to be doing? Do not answer him. Take his damn cold gear and go. Work it out later. Tough Mudder I said quietly, hoping he would pretend not to hear me and move on, saving us both the embarrassment and giving us the ability to move on, both unscarred. “TOUGH MUDDER!” He shouted. Why did you not keep your mouth shut. Legs don’t fail me now. Move. Get out of here! “That is so cool! You definitely need the Heat Gear.”

It took a moment to register. At first it was like he was speaking a foreign language I couldn’t quite understand. His reaction was definitely not the one I had been prepared for. He didn’t laugh. He didn’t shame me. He didn’t act surprised that I was doing it. He asked a ton of questions and told me he wants to do one but doesn't think he is brave enough. Wow! Really?  Silly boy, it's not bravery, it's stupidity.  We chatted for a while. He told me the compression would also be good for winter running. What?!?! You assume I am a runner! I heart you young, athletic, handsome Under Armor man.

As I checked out he told the other sales people about the Mudder. They weren’t shocked either. They high fived me and wished me luck. They told me I was going to do great. I felt a 100 lbs lighter walking out of there. I didn't feel bad about myself.  I didn’t have bad Tough Mudder dreams last night. I woke up excited about the Mudder again. This Fat to Fit journey has been long and often times miserable. In three days I will sign a four page death waiver as I participate in probably the most physically and mentally grueling event of my life. I am ready for it. For the first time in my life I feel like an athlete.

I'm OK With That

In the past, I ate, a lot. I sat, a lot. I gained weight, a lot. After every eating binge I would say, “That’s ok. I will start over tomorrow.” I kept postponing the present in hope for a better tomorrow. Tomorrow came and went with 1,467 tomorrows that “I will do better” (that’s the most recent actual number.) Instead of living my life I was standing on the sidelines watching it pass me by, always wishing I could be doing the things other people were. Those days are gone and I cannot get them back. All I can do with them is learn, recognize the signs that got me there, identify my triggers and try harder today. Today is the only thing I have control over. I need to use the past as a learning opportunity instead of a constant excuse.

You have heard me complain before that I cannot do a handstand pushup. The thought of flipping my body over, against a wall upside down and doing a push-up does not only take great strength but also great mental fortitude. Doing a HSPU has been a big focus of mine. I have been practicing piking on a box and am just not getting better. A few weeks ago we had to work on our “goat” again at Crossfit. I was not given a choice as to my concentrated skill, the women I was with decided I was going to flip onto the wall and do a HSPU. I didn’t want to do it but knew I needed to. It was the first Crossfit movement that I was actually afraid to try. 

I dream of doing a handstand push up like this

After several embarrassing tries they grabbed my legs and flipped me upside down against the wall. I have never been upside down with only my arms to support me. I was scared. I was insecure. I was vulnerable. I felt huge. I came back down and was done. Again, on your own. They were not going to let me walk away yet. I didn’t want to do it anymore. I was acting like I had in the past. The fear and insecurity with my body was holding me back. It’s easier to postpone the things we want because it is difficult and can get scary. Just because I don’t do a HSPU today doesn’t mean that they are going away. It will keep coming up and every time it will make me feel more and more bad about myself. Fears are faced best head on and with the support of friends. I did a few more with them and then finally got a handstand on my own. I was so excited I choked on my gum and fell on my head. 

                                           
That HS (no PU yet) has really put me in a good place. The past week I have been focusing on the things I CAN do and embrace the accomplishments of the past nine months, rather than dismissing my efforts and dreading how far I still have to go. The scale hasn’t moved since June but I am ok with that. I feel better than I have in years, both physically and mentally. I am wearing clothes I was trying to get into before I was pregnant and I am 15 lbs heavier than I was then! Crossfit and running have really helped to change my body. It’s more than just weight loss.

I still do not like running but I have come to embrace it. I may not enjoy it while I am doing it but I feel good when I am done. I need to run. I am an 11-12 minute mile runner. I would love to be able to run a 10 minute mile (I did it one time and thought I was going to die) but I am not there yet. I think that I am a consistent runner. I loathe the first mile. It is absolutely the hardest mile for me to conquer but miles 3-5 are actually starting to feel easier. That first mile and the last are all at the same pace. I am ok with that.

Lately I have been really frustrated because I noticed that my 1 rep max for different weighted movements has been going down. In the beginning of the summer I was able to clean and jerk 105 lbs for my 1 rm with a 125 lb end of summer goal. Three months later I am struggling to just clean the 105 lbs, never mind get it over my head. Many temper tantrums ensued and my frustration was reaching a breaking point. I hadn't been paying attention to the fact that I have spent the past three months focusing on my form. I have been going down on the weight I am lifting so that I can get a low squat each time. When I place the med ball behind me I hit it every time. This week I have been going back to lifting heavy, with the correct form. It is really difficult. It feels good. The time it takes me to get through a WOD is much longer now. I am ok with that. 

In learning to focus on today and on the things that I can do I have found comfort. I believe I am where I need to be right now. Dieting, exercising, trying to be someone I wasn’t, I’ve failed a million times. I am ok with that. All that failure has brought me here and I like here. I still have so far to go in this journey. I am looking forward to seeing what else I can do.

Inspire Me

When I first started this Fat to Fit journey just over 9 months ago I wasn’t planning on blogging. Blogging has helped me learn so much about myself. When I blog, I stay accountable, not only to others, but to myself. I force myself to think about my “problems”, to analyze why I am the way I am, and help me to improve and better myself.

I never would have thought when I started this whole thing that it would have such a dramatic effect on my life. There have been so many ups and downs, and I love sharing them with anyone that is even slightly interested. This weight loss journey has been the catalyst to so many positive things in my life. I’ve reconnected with some old friends, I have strengthened many of my relationships, and I have a better relationship with my husband and son. Feeling better about yourself changes every aspect of your life. But one thing I didn’t expect, and am still not fully comfortable with, even though I am so public with my blog, is the accolades I have been getting, some from complete strangers.

I hear the word inspire a lot. It surprises me when I hear that I have inspired others. Sure, people read my blog posts and feel all warm and fuzzy, because weight loss stories are inspiring. Everyone loves a good fat girl that got thin story; it’s what got me off the couch a good 13,247 times before. But to know that I have been the impetus for others is truly humbling. I am so incredibly thankful for all the motivating comments I’ve gotten since I’ve started this blog. I am even appreciative for the angry ones I got after I called “my diabetes” a “fat disease.” All of these comments have pushed me, inspired me and have brought me back when I’ve wanted to end this journey.

Inspired me. My mind races when I think about what has inspired me. You have. My family and friends have. All of you who have faith in me when I don’t believe in myself. I am truly blessed to be surrounded by such amazing, inspiring, motivating, encouraging people. The things you do leave me in awe every day.

I have been extremely fortunate along this journey to find a fitness partner who in such a short time has become like a sister to me. Kelly and I share many miles together and every one with her inspires me to do another. I would have given up many times without her. She is a marathon runner. She is a true, every day athlete. Sh pushes me harder and inspires me to be more adventurous and venture beyond my comfort zone.

My college roommate did a Sprint Triathlon this summer. My friend Chloe ran her first half marathon the other day. Last week, Lauren walked up to the wall at MCCF, flipped over and did a hand stand push up for the first time. She didn’t let fear get the best of her. Sam runs fast and lifts heavy. She is so consistent and solid every time. These women and others I watch struggle with a heavy weight or throw the bar over their head like it weighs nothing, run 10 miles, do muscle ups, inspire me.

Fun Michelle has spent the past 2 years losing over 60 lbs and training. She’s following her dream and joining the army at 35. My Uncle Jim found his passion for running after turning 55. He finished the NYC Marathon. My blind father that does 4 miles on the treadmill every day and lifts weights. They inspire me.

My family doesn’t care how much I weigh. They care that I am accomplishing so many new things, that I am happy and that I am living the life I was meant to live. My mother and sister each called me their hero the other day but really, they inspire me. My husband and son make me want to work harder, love better and dream bigger. They are my inspiration. Knowing that my family and friends want me to achieve so many new milestones motivates me and inspires me every day.

I am inspired as I look at these pictures and the full transformations in my family. These pictures are from an event a year ago, almost to the day. We have all taken this journey together.

 Dave has lost over 30 lbs!

Weebles Wobbel but they don't fall down!

(Tim, Me, Gail & Russ)

Lost over 100 lbs together!

Lost over 80 lbs together!

Don't we all look a lot happier?  This is our Fat to Fit journey.  We inspire each other.  We give each other strength.  I couldn't do it without all of you who inspire me.

Drunken WOD

For me, the best way to lose weight and get stronger is to get back to basics. This means simple, clean eating, early morning runs and small Crossfit classes where I can focus on me and not everyone else and the dreaded clock. I forgot this for a little while.

Yesterday I left early to do the Crossfit mile before the WOD. I know when I do this daily I get better at running. I started the run with my usual self loathing and negative thoughts but I did something different this time. About a half mile into the run I said, loudly to myself, “SHUT THE F#@$ UP!”  I am so tired of hearing myself complain about how much I don’t like running, complaining that it is humid and whining because I am not faster. Guess what, if I want to go faster I need to go faster! So I pushed myself and it felt good. I pushed myself a little harder and it felt even better. I finished that mile tired, but not exhausted, it felt great. It felt even better when I looked at my time and saw that I ran my first under 10 minute mile.

When I checked this morning’s WOD I saw the “skill” work was running 2 miles…before the actual workout. I didn’t flinch while reading the post or even consider skipping the WOD. I was looking forward to the run and the WOD itself. Sweet progress. I think there was also some residual cockiness and endorphins left over from my fantastically fast mile. Stick with the basics. Cockiness isn’t part of my Crossfit basics. Nervous, stressed, intimidated: good. Confident, cocky, overeager: bad. As if to remind me of this, I got a great big smack down.

I didn’t start the run out with the negative talk or self loathing. My run felt good. I was going faster than I normally do but hey, I learned that I am lightening fast. I need to push myself to get better. A little under a mile it just wasn’t feeling right. The miles felt overly hard. My legs felt heavy and my feet seemed to drag. I had to stop and walk just short of the finish because I thought I was going to fall. My body didn’t feel like it was mine. Humidity can take a lot out of you but all you can do is push through it, especially when one of the most athletic women you have ever met is waiting on the side of the building for you and is cheering you on with everything she has. You don’t stop. I pushed through with a 23:47 time. Fast for me.
Back at the box I drank some water, we caught our breath and got ready for the WOD. I was “excited” about the WOD. 30 double unders (I can’t do them so I do 60 regular jump ropes), 20 kettlebell swings and 10 wallballs for time. A nice, comfortable WOD, especially after a 2 mile run. 3….2.…1. I was ready to go, feeling better. I did the first 60 jump ropes straight through, no tripping or getting caught up on the rope. I was so pleased with myself I think I actually did a little woot woot out loud. Not being a woot woot girl, you know how excited I must have been to conquer that rope.

Smack down!   Like the build up? It’s really not that exciting.

I knew it as soon as I walked over to the kettlebell. I felt like I was drunk. I could feel myself swaying a bit to the side as I was walking. I did the KB swings and half the wall balls before I had to stop and steady myself. I could feel my blood sugar dropping with each movement. With only three rounds left I thought I could muddle through, walk it off, catch my breath, move on. Round 2: jump rope got the better of me. It was just messy. Imagine jumping rope completely drunk. Moved on to KB, half way through I think I lost my balance or slipped with the KB. I’m not sure what I did but it got Super Coach Elayne’s attention. I told her I was fine and I worked through the rest of the kettlebell swings.
 
By the time I got over to the wall, maybe 2 feet, there was no denying it; I had no control over my body. My hands were shaking, I wasn’t controlling my legs, the music was a far off echo and I was seeing double. I needed to stop or I was going down. I had something to eat and brushed it off when Elayne looked a bit worried. After a few minutes rest, with more solid legs and a headache more powerful than a hangover, I went and slowly finished the last 2 rounds.

I have not worked as hard as I have to come this close to beating diabetes to let this damn “fat disease” kick my ass in the middle of a WOD. I can call it that! That’s why I have it. I get through every single WOD without quitting. I am horrified that diabetes almost made me quit. I am so enraged that my “fat disease” got in my way of competing. Moments like this take the focus off my successful workouts and put it on my fatness. Moments like that are unforgiving in your memory.

When I got home and took my blood sugar it was 57. That’s really low, especially after eating something so high in carbs. I probably shouldn’t have finished the WOD but mentally I had no choice.

I want to go to every middle school in the state and be a fat teacher. I want to go into the classrooms and tell the kids to put down the chips and the video games and go outside. Go kick a ball, ride a bike, play a sport. Just do something. It’s not about vanity, it’s not about looking like a runway model, and it’s not about others admiration for your strength. It’s about your life.

Tomorrow I will get up and have an apple before I workout. I’ll run a mile before I do the WOD. Elayne will yell at me to keep my ass down or to push a little harder. All will be right in my world once again. This is a journey and the road is long. Today was just a little ripple in the pond but a huge reminder of why I need to keep pushing forward.

Gratitude

One of the signature exercises of Crossfit is the handstand pushup (HSPU).  To do a handstand pushup you have to throw yourself up against the wall into a handstand position and then slowly lower yourself to the ground, head touching the mat, all while still in the handstand position.  I have always watched others do these in amazement.  I even know a few people who are able to do it a few times one handed.  It’s a good thing I like these people, otherwise I would be tempted to push them over.  I am not able to flip myself over onto the wall yet so I learned how to do a modified version of them on a bench on my knees, hoping to progress to the real thing one day. 

I quickly graduated from the bench to a box, but still do them on my knees.  I have become really good at them.  I can do a good 25-30 in a row while those doing an actual HSPU might only get 10 before being exhausted.  I am a Rock Star at this version of handstand pushups.  I would consider myself among the elite.  I get my head to the floor EVERY time and do not need a mat. 

I realized something a few weeks ago while doing a handstand pushup in a WOD.  I have become really good at doing nothing.  There is nothing to my version of the HSPU, to make it work you need to get into a plank position (only toes on the box, no knees or legs for support, tush up, head down facing the box).  Yesterday I decided it was time to start doing them correctly.  I chose to “learn” how to do these in the middle of a timed WOD.

I fell off the box onto my face several times.  I couldn’t get it right.  My arms were trembling, my shoulders were buckling and I just could not get my arms to lower me to the ground.  I could feel the tears building up and it took everything I had to hold them back.  Elayne saw I was getting frustrated and tried to encourage me but it was useless, my mental meltdown had taken over.  I tried to walk it off but it didn’t help.  Every time I returned to the box for another round of HSPU’s my attempts only seemed to get feebler.  I left defeated and discouraged.  I cried all the way home.  When you do something a certain way for an extensive period of time you become good at it, even if you are doing it wrong.  Breaking that bad habit and learning how to do it right and becoming good at it takes a lot of work.  I hate when I am not good at something, I loathe having to work on it to get better.  I am not good at handstands pushups and it hit me quite hard to realize this.  

I am usually a reasonable and rational person.  I know that my mental meltdown was a reaction to the incredible stress my family has been under for the past two weeks.  A man I love very dearly suffered a horribly serious trauma.  We spent several days in the Neuro ICU hoping and praying for the best but knowing the reality was that he may never come home and if he did he may not be the same person.  We have all been being so strong for each other and fighting back all the raw emotions of the situation that we shut down our feelings and dealt with the situation clinically.  I was headed for a mental breakdown regardless; the damn HSPU’s were just the thing that caused the crack.

When I went to the hospital yesterday I was greeted by my recovering father-in-law in a new room.  He was moved out of the ICU into a regular room to continue his recovery.  I helped him out of his bed, gathered all the wires he was connected to and we went for a walk around the unit.  As we walked at a snail’s pace I could see how hard it was for him.  His body has been weakened and it literally took every ounce of strength he had to walk just a few feet.  I was incredibly overwhelmed.  Here he was giving everything he had to walk down a hallway and just hours before I was having a temper tantrum because I couldn’t do a handstand pushup.  I was ashamed.

Today was supposed to be my ‘rest” day so I hadn’t planned on going to Crossfit.  When I went on the website and saw that we were going to be training our “goat” (work on your weakness.)  I knew I needed to go in and work on my handstand pushups...because I could.  Every time I piked up on my toes and fell flat on my face I was grateful.  After 10 minutes of practicing them I only successfully completed two and I was grateful.  I finished and went for a run.  It always seems like such a chore and I am miserable in the humidity.  As bad as the run was this morning, I was grateful.

I wouldn't describe myself as a religious person but I do believe that there is some greater power at work.  This experience has reminded me of that, and in case I wasn't getting the message, I was given a subtle reminder this morning when I got to work.  My sister had left one of my son’s toys on my desk.  He left it in her car last week when she picked him up while we were in the emergency room.  I picked up my sons little plastic goat and realized exactly how grateful I am.

I put the toy goat on my box in the basement so every day when I leave my house I can look at it.  I can look at it and be reminded of the second chance we have been given with the man we never told enough how special he is.  We are the few lucky ones that get a happy ending in this.  I am healthy and strong.  I may not be able to do a handstand pushup but I am grateful that I am able to try.