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.

Refocusing

My lack of motivation and willpower has pretty much stalled my weight loss.  In the past 4 weeks the numbers on the scale have not moved more than .6 in either direction.  Despite my best efforts, it has been hard to “stay in the game.”  As great as summer is for getting outside and doing the things I enjoy, it’s a saboteur when it comes to diet and exercise.  The never ending humidity and my position at the front of the buffet line at every family barbecue only help to increase the frustration I have with my lack of progress on the scale.  At this point the gut wrenching Crossfit workouts and the miles of running are just helping me maintain what I have already lost.

I am not worried though.  I didn’t put all this extra weight on overnight and it is definitely not going to come off overnight.  When I started this journey I decided that it wasn’t going to be about becoming skinny and I still stand by that.  I am doing this to get healthy.  This time cannot be about trying to look a certain way.  I’m losing weight to BE a certain way: healthy and fit.  Every pound I lose means one less pound for my knees to struggle to carry.  Less weight means running faster and further.  Every pound I leave behind will make it easier for me to do a pull-up and complete more push-ups.  Each pound brings me closer to overall health and fitness.

Being skinny doesn’t help me achieve anything.  It may make me happier but it would only be temporary.  Skinny won’t make me proud but being strong and fast will.  Being fit enables me to accomplish so much.  I can reach new fitness goals and achieve my life goals. Being healthy mentally and physically means I can continuously better myself, making a difference in both my life and my family’s. Striving for fitness allows me to show my son how to believe in himself and become a confident man. My energy does not come from wanting to look a certain way.  It comes from a newfound mental and physical strength.  It has nothing to do with being thin and has everything to do with being healthy and giving myself a chance to live long enough to accomplish everything I want to achieve.

I have been thinking about where I want to be at the end of 2011, what my overall goals for my fitness journey really are.  It truly comes down to one basic thing; I want to be able to do what my body was meant to do. I want to be athletic. I want to be able to run, to lift my body weight (not now, later), and climb high mountains.  I want to swim and bike and enjoy every single moment I possibly can.  The only way I am going to be able to do this is if I refocus and remind myself of the things I want.

I want to:

·         Run a sub-10 minute mile and a sub-30 minute 5k

·         125 lb Clean & Jerk

·         Be able to do “guy” pushups (on my toes rather than knees)

·         Complete the Tri-state Tough Mudder

·         Jump on the 20” box

·         Lose 25 lbs by December 31

In 2012 I want to:

·         Compete in a Sprint Triathlon with my college roommate

·         Run a 10K

·         Climb to the top of the rope

·         Be on a team for the Ragnar Relay

·         Beat my brother to the top of a rock climbing wall

·         Run a marathon…  just joking!  Awesome for those who can and do but I really have no interest.

I WANT TO LIVE A FULL LIFE!

Lack of Motivation

In June I celebrated my 6 month fit journey by hitting the 50 lb weight loss mark and running the Branford Road Race.  Both of these things were major personal accomplishments for me and occurred much earlier than I had planned for my journey.  Unfortunately, as I move into July I feel like I have lost all my motivation and focus.  I’ve only run a mile a few times in the last couple of weeks.  Popcorn, candy and ice cream are Paleo, right?  My only saving grace these days is Crossfit.  I think I keep going because I know they will show up on my front step if I don’t. 

I have heard that runners often get depressed after they run a marathon.  Sounds similar, but I didn’t run a marathon and I certainly didn’t train like I was going to.  I am tired.  I have been investing so much time and energy into getting fit that I am exhausted, physically and mentally.  I am constantly worrying about what I am eating or when I am going to work out.  It is tiring.  It is going to be like this for the rest of my life.  That is a really long time.  I have always had an all or nothing personality.  Dedicating my all to getting fit isn’t working for me right now.

I spent a lot of time running over the past few months and I noticed my “Crossfit” suffered.  I don’t feel as strong as I did 3 months ago.  I struggled with a 95 lb clean & jerk last week.  Now I feel like my running is suffering as I focus on Crossfit once again.  It is hard for me to run and do Crossfit on the same day.  There are many people who do them both, sometimes daily. They are true athletes.  A 3 mile run to them is easy.  Physically it is too much for me.  I still struggle when there is a run in the middle of a WOD.  I am not where they are yet.  I want to be able to do both easily.  It’s frustrating for me not to be able to run a long distance and do Crossfit but I will get there.  I just need to find the balance between the two.

I watch all the weight loss shows and I am always amazed by the extreme body transformations but I always wonder at what cost?  Some of these people leave there families for 5 months at a time, some quit their jobs and dedicate every day to working out for 8-12 hours.  I know if I made that type of commitment I could lose over a hundred pounds too, but again, at what cost.  That type of dedication comes at a high price.  I want to lose the extra weight but I am not willing to walk away from everyone and everything to do it.  I just need to find a way to fit it all in...and keep it fun.

Life is about balance.  I need to make sure I am living a full life.  Balance for me needs to be about spending time with my family, enjoying ice cream on the weekend and then working a little harder in the gym the next day so that I can continue to enjoy those things.  It’s ok to leave the running shoes at home sometimes.  I just need to make sure I put them on again.  I need to stay focused and find balance; if I can’t then everything I have worked so hard for will slip away.   

I am worried that I am slowly creeping back into my old ways but I am realizing that I am really not.  I may be slipping here and there but there is one major difference.  It is just a slip.  The old Christine would throw it all away, continue indulging, cancel the gym membership and catch up on those 17 episodes of General Hospital waiting on Tivo.  Christine 2011 is going to find her motivation again and refocus, coming back stronger and faster than before for the second half of the year.  I’ve got a Tough Mudder to train for!

I am going to take some time and set some new goals for the next 6 months.  But this summer I am going to enjoy some balance.  It can’t be all or nothing.  I’m going to do some trail runs with a friend.  Running through the woods is so much more appealing to me. It might actually be fun!  I am being hopeful.  I am going to run at least 1 mile every day before Crossfit.  I will get faster and stronger but it may not be as quickly as if I was only focusing on one.  I am going to start riding my bike and kayaking again. I am going to play more wiffle ball in the yard with my husband and son.  I will continue my fit journey.  I will get healthier and stronger.  I will just be more conscious of living a balanced life.  

Perspective

Sunday was the Branford Road Race.  I decided about a week ago that I was going to do it and registered.  As much as I fought the decision to run I knew I never really had a choice.  I needed to run the race to prove to myself that I am no longer that person who stands on the sidelines watching my life go by, wishing I was part of it.  I was instantly overwhelmed but being a spectator in your own life is even more overwhelming.  2011 is my year to not look back and “wish I had.”  Watching the Branford Road Race from the sidewalk would be my biggest “I wish I had”.

About 2 miles into the race I was exhausted.  I was tired from starting too fast, the mini hills, the humidity and the 2,000 other runners.  I needed to walk.  I was devastated.  This was what I was afraid of.  I knew I wasn’t a real runner.  I had been training so hard for this and had been able to run 4 solid miles without stopping.  I couldn’t believe I needed to take a walking break so soon.  I wanted to give up. You can’t do this. You’re tired already. It’s so hot and humid.  Just give up. Try again next year.  And honestly, I was letting the fear of coming in last creep in and get the best of me.  I was tired from all the pressure I had put on myself.

My friend Kelly went step for step with me every mile.  As hard as the voices worked to creep back in and tell me to quit, Kelly was there fighting them off at every hill and every turn.  She smiled, laughed and joked the entire way.  She was having a great time even though I held her back.  Her faith in me was unwavering.  Kelly kept telling me, “You can do this. You’ve got this.”  I kept going because I didn’t want to disappoint her, my family or all my friends who believe so strongly in me.  Everyone was so proud and excited that I was doing the race I couldn’t let them down. 

I realized that I planned to fail, or at the very least I set myself up to fail.  I built this race up so much in my head that unless I came in under 60 minutes and ran every step it was a failure.  I wasn’t allowing myself to enjoy the day, the route along the beach or the fact that I was doing something I had dreamed of.  I wasn’t being fair to myself or to my friends who drove so far and were only doing this race to support me.  I certainly wasn’t being fair to the friend who was throwing away her run to run by my side because she believed in me. 

Five miles of hard work is nothing in the grand scheme of life. Getting fit is a life decision.  Every day is filled with mental roadblocks.  I doubt myself constantly.  Fear, doubt and failure are all new concept to me.  As a fat person I was never afraid of failure.  It’s hard to fail if you never push yourself and when you do fail people are just so excited that you tried something.  Give the fat girl an “A” for getting off the couch!

Whether it is running or in a WOD, I often don’t believe that I can make it to the end because I get tired and I want to stop.  It’s easier to walk away by choice than to fail. I get frustrated when I can’t do something as well as everyone else.  I often want to give up because I think I have no energy left, that I have nothing more to give. But it’s not true.  I am stronger than I believe, both mentally and physically. I just have to continue believing it.  

So I went the distance.  I broke down those walls.  I just had to believe in myself.  I knew I couldn’t give up without a strong fight.  I had more left to give.  I wasn’t done yet. I wasn’t finished.  I just needed to get out of my own way. So I kept pushing forward, despite being tired, worn down, sore, and frustrated. I walked some, I ran some, and I just kept going.  I started to believe in myself. 

It only took me 4 miles and being passed by about 1,950 other runners to realize that I had so much more to give.  With my friends by my side and my family screaming from the sidelines, I crossed the finish line of the Branford Road Race at 1:09:40 (1:09:04 net time).  I was 10 minutes faster than I imagined I would be.  It was awesome.

Honestly, the race was so much harder than I had expected.  There were so many factors beyond my control that I wasn’t ready for.  I was discouraged for a lot of the race and wasn’t as proud as I should have been.  I focused on all my failures rather than celebrating my success but in the past few days I have gained some perspective.  My time doesn’t matter.  Running at a snail’s pace doesn’t matter. Walking some of the race doesn’t matter.  Last doesn’t matter.  The only thing that matters is that I finished. 

I have come so far in these past 6 months and the BRR is a fantastic milestone.  It was a great way to celebrate the six month anniversary of my fit new life.  I didn’t run it perfectly but just like trying to get fit, it’s not perfect, I cannot do everything perfectly every day.  These kinds of expectations will put me on a road to sure failure.  The Branford Road Race was just like this journey.  Neither were where I want or need to be, but I am such much further than I have ever been.  

The first time I ran around the MCCF building I couldn’t do it without stopping and walking.  Once around is only 200M (1/8 mile) and Sunday I “ran” 5 miles.  I used to have to catch my breath if I carried my son down the hall to bed or walked up stairs.  Today I can deadlift 230 lbs.  I have lost 51lbs but I have gained so much more.  I am happier.  I am healthier.  I am stronger.  I completed a race I dreamed about doing for so many years.  I didn’t come in last but the person that did come in last finished it too.  We did it and we should be proud!  Next year we will do it better, I will gain some more perspective and I will smile the whole time.

I Am a Crossfitter

Every night before a WOD I have a compulsive need to check the website the to see what the workout is going to be.  Whether I am going in the morning or not, I cannot go to bed until I know what the Workout of the Day will be.  Many nights, I have found myself fighting sleep until the WOD appears after hitting refresh incessantly for a good 15 minutes.  Obsessive?  Insane?  Slightly.  But I’m not alone.

When I checked the website Friday the WOD was “Whitten.”  22 kettlebell swings, 22 box jumps, 400m run, 22 burpees, 22 wall balls.  It didn’t look so bad and I was actually excited about doing it.  I didn’t realize it was five times.  Once seemed fun but 5X?!?  That’s 110 of each.  110 burpees.  110 burpees! 

I knew this WOD was going to be long and hard and would take everything I had.  We were all given the option of cutting in half.  I knew I didn't want to do the junior version but wasn't sure I could do the entire thing.   I made a deal with myself that if I went a full three rounds and was exhausted I could stop there.  I knew if I could do the three rounds I would be happy because that would be more than the half version and if I gave it everything than that would have to be good enough.  I've never quit in the middle of a WOD but completing “Whitten” was sure death.

Just a few minutes into my first set of burpees I could already feel my resolve weakening.  The WOD was harder than I imagined and it was hot, really hot.  By the time I got to my second 400m run my knees were aching, my body was tired and my head felt like it had its own heartbeat.    I had to stop running and walk just to catch my breath.  Three rounds felt out of reach, the five rounds were not even going to be an option for me.

We had two guests at our box Friday night.  These two athletes were impressive.  You looked at them and knew there was no hesitation for them with this WOD.  They were the elite among the elite.  Going in I felt intimidated working out with them but once the clock started all I could focus on was each set, one at a time.  No one else was there, no one else mattered.

With as much running as I have been doing the 400m run around the building is still my nemesis.  No matter how hard I try, I cannot find a pace and I struggle going around the corners.  The switch from gravel to pavement to dirt throws me off every time.  All silly things but they get in my head and make it hard for me to run the 400m.

I was exhausted as I headed into the run of only the second round.  I slowed my run around the corner and started to walk.  I was too tired to run; this WOD was getting the best of me. 

I was questioning if I could get through the next set of burpees and then get though another full round.  “Pick up your feet and run, even if it’s a slow jog you run.”  One of the visiting Crossfitters came sprinting upon me, “We don’t walk at Crossfit.  You’re not a Crossfitter if you walk” and he sprinted away, barely breaking a sweat.

To say I was pissed was an understatement.  Who the hell did he think he was, coming into my box and telling me I’m not a Crossfitter?  He doesn’t know what I can or can’t do!  He doesn’t know me!  He doesn’t know me.  I stopped walking and ran, it was slow and painful, I could barely catch my breath, but I ran.  I finished that lap and ran the next one too.  I finished the third round and kept going.  I vomited twice but I kept going.  I truly didn’t think I could finish but I did.  I did all 5 rounds.  I am a Crossfitter.  I may not do the WOD as fast as some (ok, the majority) but I am doing the same WOD.  Don’t tell me I am not a Crossfitter.   You don’t know me.  I will take your words and think about them every day.  They will drive me and push me until I cannot give anymore and then I will give some more.   That’s what makes me Crossfit.

I thought about this as I was running yesterday.  It made me push myself harder.  I joke that it only took me a ¼ mile of self loathing to find my pace.  It usually takes at least a mile.  One mile, whether it feels long or goes by fast, I can come up with a million excuses in my head about why I shouldn’t finish it or why I should just walk.  I’m too tired.   I’m not fast enough so why bother, just walk.  I don’t have any energy left.  It’s too humid.  One mile is good enough.

My second mile felt good too.  I actually had a pace and my breathing wasn't too labored.  I ran two strong miles.  I could see the stop sign about ¼ mile ahead of me.  I knew when I got there I would have to make a choice.  Going left would mean running 4 miles.  Going right would mean the 2 were good enough.  What’s good enough?  Running 2 miles instead of the four I need to do?  Two solid miles is good.  Completing three rounds in a WOD instead of the five?   It was the hardest WOD I have ever done.  Three full rounds are good.  I am a Crossfitter.  I am not good enough.  I need to be better than that.

Being fat is easy and comfortable.  Everything you do is good enough.  Getting fit and living the life I want is hard, it’s mentally exhausting.  It’s about breaking down all my walls every day.  These walls get in my way of running faster, lifting more and being stronger on the inside and out.   If I am going to do this than I need to give it everything I have and never accept “good enough.” 

I turned left.  Good enough can no longer be good enough.  I am a Crossfitter.  Thank you for reminding me.

The Branford Road Race

Growing up in Branford, I’ve always spent Father’s Day weekend at the Branford Festival.  You can count on lots of fun, good music, delicious food and running into old friends who are in town just for the festival.  Sunday morning is spent at the Branford Road Race.  You either line the streets waiting for the runners to come in, or you participate in the 2 mile fitness walk, getting back in time to cheer on the incoming runners.  It’s always about the runners.  They always return to the center of town with a hero’s welcome, raucous applause, pats on the back and the announcers booming voice on the loud speaker “Thank you… for running… the …Branford Road Race” to each runner as they cross the finish line.  Sound a little Norman Rockwell?  For lifelong Branford residents this overcrowded, bursting at the seams day is our last ditch effort to hold onto that small town community feeling we all had while growing up there.

I have spent the past 30 years standing on the side of the road cheering on those runners.  I always imagined what it would be like crossing that finish line and hearing my name called out.  Every few years I would promise myself that I would get fit and run in the next race.  I’ve watched my sister run it.  I have watched friends and family members run it.  I have still not done it.  I considered it in April but quickly changed my mind because running 5 miles by June 19 would be very unlikely.  I decided to wait until next year when I could run it faster and have no worry about coming in last. 

In general I don’t usually worry or care about coming in last.  I came in last at the Salem Road Race.  It was me, a police car and a very long line of cars waiting for the road to open up again.  Michelle and Leah came back and ran the last few hundred feet with me.  There were times when Leah was pushing me not to stop and walk, literally pushing me because I was so tired from all the hills.  Being last that day was actually really invigorating.  People were cheering me on and high fiving me from their front lawns.  I didn’t care that I was coming in last because it was one of the hardest courses I have seen and I was so proud that I was doing it.  I crossed the finish line and the race closed down behind me.  On that day last was ok for me.  Last is not ok for me for the Branford Road Race.

I got an incredibly motivating email from a friend the other day.  She told me to “Stop being a "spectator" THIS YEAR....register for the Branford Road Race...this year is the year of change and doing things you normally wouldn't do. I KNOW you can accomplish this, to add to your list. It's mind over matter!”  I consider her to be among those elite few athletes who I strive to be like.  At 25 she is fast, strong and unstoppable.  Her abilities are endless and she truly believes in me.  Her words stopped me and made me consider it again.  I have not stopped thinking about it since then.  It has almost become obsessive.

I don’t usually back away from a challenge but this is different.  This could realistically be public humiliation in my hometown.  Slightly dramatic I know, but that’s how I feel.  I talked to my “fitness mentor” about the race.  She went from zero to marathon runner and has run the BRR before.  She is incredibly inspiring and is always motivating me.  I don’t think I would have even considered becoming a “runner” if it weren’t for her encouragement.  She told me to do it.  She too believes I can do it.  As supportive and motivating as these two women are, the voices in my head are still telling me no.  The voices telling me that I am not a runner, reminding me how slow I am, are much louder than my friends.  I can only imagine how loud those voices will be in the 10 minutes before the start of the BRR.

Committing to the Branford Road Race means I will need to add 2 miles to my run in the next 2 ½ weeks and get faster at it.  I am sure I can add the miles but I am not going to get faster in that time.  I still do not like running and adding 2 more miles now will make it even less fun.  I don’t want this race to kill what little running confidence I have.  If I don’t do it well, I will be crushed.  I checked the finish time from the past few years.  I will come in last.  Many minutes later last.  They might not realize that I am still out there kind of last.

Not committing to the Branford Road Race means another year of sitting on the sidelines, not living the life I want.  This is supposed to be my year of not looking back and having a year of “I wish I had’s.”  If I truly want to live this kind of life than I need to run the Branford Road Race.  It shouldn’t matter that I will come in last.  I should be just as proud that I did it as I have with the other races.  I will be so mad at myself if I don’t do it.  I am sure it will be a big regret.

I get that I am putting a lot of unnecessary pressure on myself about running the road race.  I know it doesn’t really matter if I walk some of it, if I pass out or vomit 50 feet from the finish or if come I last.  But it matters to me.  For me, The Branford Road Race is the pinnacle of road races.  This silly 5 mile race is my NYC or Boston Marathon.  It’s all about my pride.  Here’s where I am supposed to say I am going to do it, I’m going to run the Branford Road Race.  I’m not ready to say that.  I honestly don’t know if I will.  Today I am planning on cheering on my friends, imagining myself running alongside them, keeping up their pace, next year.  Who knows what tomorrow will bring, after all, I did register for the Tough Mudder and that’s 13 miles.