Spartan Shape-Up, Day 469:
Happy to be climbing back in the saddle, I headed off to CrossFit to get my sweat on, while the lingering rains from Hurricane Sandy passed over Vermont.
Our small class of four settled into some foam rolling to warm up the muscles then a couple of sets of 200m rows and 5 "inchworm complexes." Yeah, I didn't know what an inchworm complex was until the other day, either, Blogland... but let me just tell you, it is a new kind of hell.
It goes like this, from a standing position.
- Bend at the waist, hands toward the floor.
- Walk your hands from your feet out forward, until your body is in a plank position
- Do a push-up (Oh, you bet I was dropping to my knees!)
- While still in plank position, bring right leg forward into a lunge/mountain climber position.
- Switch and bring left leg forward to lunge/mountain climber
- Back to plank position
- Side plank right
- Side plank left
- Do a push up
- Walk your feet up to meet your hands
- Stand up.
.... That's ONE. During this warm up, I couldn't help but think of that T-shirt that says, "My Warm-Up is your Workout."
Next, we were on to Handstand Practice. Not one of my strong suits, since I do have the tiny T-rex arms to contend with. Never the less, Stacey and I (the only two ladies in the class!), did our best and worked down from tall boxes to short ones, practicing positioning and getting our feet up. Not easy, at all, it seems. I have a very long way to go on this particular skill set!
Then it was on to the main event, today's WOD. Today's WOD was brought to us by the Tabata concept. For those of you not in the know, Tabata is a style of training that involves 20 seconds of (usually max effort) work, followed by 10 seconds of rest. Repeat 8 times.
Our task:
- Tabata Pull ups (me, using a huge thick band)
- Tabata Push ups
- Tabata Sit Ups
- Tabata Squats
(Count your total number of reps. Me: 230)
As soon as the clock started and we were off, I had on focus face. This particular WOD would work a lot of my really weak points, and after our inchworm warm up that had worked our core, I was thinking this was going to hurt.
Pull ups were a familiar ugly beast. Yes, I can kind of do them with the band, but about round 5 or so, I was down to 3 at a time, little break, 3 more. I'm determined that I will do ONE pull up before the new year, however. It's going to happen. I'm working my arms at climbing, getting back to crossfit.... I'm going to get there. Since I can't really work my legs right now (eff you hard, Shin Splints!), I have no excuse, right?
Tabata Push ups... right after pull ups... My arms were feeling like jelly, but I got into position (knee push ups) and just went to work, doing what I can. I think the thing to remember here, BlogLand, is that ONE push up is better than no push ups at all. If your arms give out mid-push up, at least you were trying to go forward. My arms burned, my back muscles were weeping and I was watching the clock for every long second, as I eeked out my push ups.
... You know your workout has gone wrong when your tabata butterfly sit ups feel like a relief.
On to something that is typically right up my alley - tabata body weight squats. Today, I approached them not with my usual zeal, but with caution and a tiny bit of dread. Last class, weighted squats made my shin splint flare up to crippling. I had to take it easy on these. I did my squats and put in some solid work... but no where near the speed and feeling of strength that I usually expect from myself here. Instead, I felt tentative and sore. *sigh*
Managed to get the WOD done with a respectable number of reps. Pull ups were definitely my limiting factor, despite how much I was careful at squats. Pull ups are the new focus move, going forward.
----------
It's two days after Crossfit and I have to admit, my arms are useless. DOMS (delayed onset muscle soreness) is attacking my biceps like crazy. My co-workers have been laughing at me, because when I try and straighten my arms to my sides, it's accompanied by Ouchie-Face and groans. Try reaching for the salt with sore biceps. NO. GOOD. Owwwww.
Perhaps this is where I am supposed to learn a lesson. Maybe I have been focusing on the strength in my legs too much, because it comes more naturally. Maybe now is the time, forced on me by the great Shin Splint Saga, to concentrate on whipping this sad little upper body into shape. Getting that pull up. Getting some really not-on-knees push ups. (and abs, thank you for also making your presence known... I won't neglect my core-workouts either!).
I have been struggling, of late, with this limiting injury. It is hard to pull yourself out of races and put question marks on upcoming ones. It doesn't feel good at all. I'm supposed to be chasing down those finish lines, not backing away from them. However, I have a sense of reason and I know that some time "off" now is better than permanent injury with much bigger physical limitations later. Time off it is, until I'm healed and good to go.
As a former Fat Chick, though, I'm afraid. Being limited like this, has sort of derailed my usual patterns, and I'm afraid I'm going to backslide. I'm afraid I'll lose progress. I'm afraid of all those silly irrational things you think when you're unhappy with what's going on, and your brain has hit Worse Case Scenario mode.
BUT.
Where there is a will, there is a way, and I'm a Spartan, Damnit. I have an appointment for X-rays on Monday, and Physical Therapy to go to the following Monday. It's cutting it a little close to Fenway... but I'm going to keep CrossFitting, stretching, foam rolling, icing, tiger balming and whatever else I can think of to help this along... and we'll just have to keep our fingers crossed.
Now, I'm off to slather some Ultra Tiger Balm on my biceps, do a little more foam rolling, and drag myself off for a loooooong sleep.
Showing posts with label FCS. Show all posts
Showing posts with label FCS. Show all posts
Thursday, November 1, 2012
Wednesday, May 30, 2012
Come what may, all bad fortune is to be conquered by endurance. - Virgil
Spartan Shape-Up, Day 315:
Somehow, Spartan Race always knows the exact thing I need to hear, when they send out their newsletter.
I'm having a real bad day today, BlogLand. It was the first time, in a really long time, that my old brain started to kick in and turn me to food again, as a coping mechanism. Major FCS flare-up.
Work is going crazy. I'm sure I don't need to spell this out for you. It's just one of those weeks where it feels like there's not enough of you - you need more hands, more time, more brains to think with, more energy, more, more, more. Pretty much every day in the last week or so, I've come out of work feeling beat up and mentally exhausted. It's temporary, due to some changes we've been dealing with... but still. It's been taking it's toll.
That has overflowed into my already-bad sleep habits. I'm not sleeping enough, and when I am sleeping, I'm dreaming like crazy. Not restful.
Then, I've got a race coming up this weekend. I'm Headed down to the Spartan Sprint in Tuxedo, NY and I'm doing my first Hurricane Heat. I'm excited out of my mind. Or I'm trying to be. I was excited out of my mind, then suddenly there were 400 little complications. I had to work out a registration snafu. I was back and forth with the (awesome!) volunteer coordinator, trying to get some stuff worked out. Coordinating with other people I know, to try and get there together became an impossibility. To add insult to injury, the one buddy I had to drive down with had a work crisis, and can't leave when I need to (to make the Hurricane Heat at 5am on Saturday!). Now I find myself in a tough spot. I'll either have to drive down by myself, or try and hunt down another group that might be going from the area, and try and hitch a ride... of which I know nobody.
*sigh*... as much as I do these races for *me*, there is a large social component. Once I get to the race, it will be fine... but I guess I always consider traveling part of the whole "experience" and it sucks to have to do that alone. I'm not an alone person. However. I suppose it will be a time for reflection. And if I have my car, perhaps, I will avoid the ride complications I had in Colorado.
Argh. I just hate dealing with this stuff 3 days before a race.
And I didn't run today. I did take my two additional prescribed walks today, but it should've been Sprint night, take 2. Last night, Sprints were cancelled on account of the Tornado Warning and raging T-storms we had here. I should've done it tonight, instead. But, I was in a crappy mood and I fell down on the job.
Not as an excuse, but I am experiencing some major DOMS (2nd day soreness!) from the Murph WOD this weekend. My hips/quads/legs in general are angry. Real angry.
So, by the time I got home at 7:30pm, knew I wasn't Sprinting, but feeling a little guilty about that, was frustrated with myself and several situations beyond my control... and just pretty ugly.
I wanted Pizza. And Hot Wings. That's what my brain said. That's what my inner Fat Chick said. Pizza and Hot Wings would make me feel better.
It is the first time in close to a year that I've really had that thought train. I even started negatively justifying it - What would it matter, I'm not losing weight right now anyway! If I'm not WOD'ing, I might as well really screw up the day!
... and so on and so forth.
It was just a really bad night. We all have them.
Thankfully, my house is pretty food "safe", and I sat on my couch with a glass of water, cried out some frustration and reflected on what would really help me. Pizza and Wings were not it. I made a list of the things I needed to do. I drank some water and went to the kitchen and found some appropriate left overs.
I've spent the evening just trying to breathe in and breathe out and remind myself that all will be fine. I just need to let go and accept the things I can not change.
What I can change is how I think about them. Pizza and Wings are NOT a solution to the feelings I was feeling, or the obstacles before me.
Now, I'm going to bed, Blogland to sleep off this ugliness. I will wake up tomorrow and take my walk, eat breakfast and get off to work.
"Life is an exercise in endurance. It will beat you to the ground. Your money will fly away when you need it most. Some friends will, too. How you react when this happens will define you."
Somehow, Spartan Race always knows the exact thing I need to hear, when they send out their newsletter.
I'm having a real bad day today, BlogLand. It was the first time, in a really long time, that my old brain started to kick in and turn me to food again, as a coping mechanism. Major FCS flare-up.
Work is going crazy. I'm sure I don't need to spell this out for you. It's just one of those weeks where it feels like there's not enough of you - you need more hands, more time, more brains to think with, more energy, more, more, more. Pretty much every day in the last week or so, I've come out of work feeling beat up and mentally exhausted. It's temporary, due to some changes we've been dealing with... but still. It's been taking it's toll.
That has overflowed into my already-bad sleep habits. I'm not sleeping enough, and when I am sleeping, I'm dreaming like crazy. Not restful.
Then, I've got a race coming up this weekend. I'm Headed down to the Spartan Sprint in Tuxedo, NY and I'm doing my first Hurricane Heat. I'm excited out of my mind. Or I'm trying to be. I was excited out of my mind, then suddenly there were 400 little complications. I had to work out a registration snafu. I was back and forth with the (awesome!) volunteer coordinator, trying to get some stuff worked out. Coordinating with other people I know, to try and get there together became an impossibility. To add insult to injury, the one buddy I had to drive down with had a work crisis, and can't leave when I need to (to make the Hurricane Heat at 5am on Saturday!). Now I find myself in a tough spot. I'll either have to drive down by myself, or try and hunt down another group that might be going from the area, and try and hitch a ride... of which I know nobody.
*sigh*... as much as I do these races for *me*, there is a large social component. Once I get to the race, it will be fine... but I guess I always consider traveling part of the whole "experience" and it sucks to have to do that alone. I'm not an alone person. However. I suppose it will be a time for reflection. And if I have my car, perhaps, I will avoid the ride complications I had in Colorado.
Argh. I just hate dealing with this stuff 3 days before a race.
And I didn't run today. I did take my two additional prescribed walks today, but it should've been Sprint night, take 2. Last night, Sprints were cancelled on account of the Tornado Warning and raging T-storms we had here. I should've done it tonight, instead. But, I was in a crappy mood and I fell down on the job.
Not as an excuse, but I am experiencing some major DOMS (2nd day soreness!) from the Murph WOD this weekend. My hips/quads/legs in general are angry. Real angry.
So, by the time I got home at 7:30pm, knew I wasn't Sprinting, but feeling a little guilty about that, was frustrated with myself and several situations beyond my control... and just pretty ugly.
I wanted Pizza. And Hot Wings. That's what my brain said. That's what my inner Fat Chick said. Pizza and Hot Wings would make me feel better.
It is the first time in close to a year that I've really had that thought train. I even started negatively justifying it - What would it matter, I'm not losing weight right now anyway! If I'm not WOD'ing, I might as well really screw up the day!
... and so on and so forth.
It was just a really bad night. We all have them.
Thankfully, my house is pretty food "safe", and I sat on my couch with a glass of water, cried out some frustration and reflected on what would really help me. Pizza and Wings were not it. I made a list of the things I needed to do. I drank some water and went to the kitchen and found some appropriate left overs.
I've spent the evening just trying to breathe in and breathe out and remind myself that all will be fine. I just need to let go and accept the things I can not change.
What I can change is how I think about them. Pizza and Wings are NOT a solution to the feelings I was feeling, or the obstacles before me.
Now, I'm going to bed, Blogland to sleep off this ugliness. I will wake up tomorrow and take my walk, eat breakfast and get off to work.
"If we are facing in the right direction, all we have to do is keep walking. " - Proverb
Wednesday, May 23, 2012
The beginning is the most important part of the work. - Plato
Spartan Shape-Up, Day 308:
So, today became a Rest Day, BlogLand. I couldn't sleep to save my life last night and when I did, nightmares abound. I've pretty much spent my entire life trying to find non-chemical solutions to this sleeping disorder of mine, but pretty much, when the stress comes down, the sleep gets screwed up.
I woke up this morning feeling just beat up. (I've been averaging 4-5 hours of "sleep" a night for the last couple of days...) I was supposed to go to CrossFit this morning, but when the alarm went off, there was no way. I could've willed my self there for 6am, but to be honest, it wouldn't have been good for anyone, or my body. I went back to sleep.
However, today, I've got some new things to think about and focus on. After posing my current concerns, doubts and questions to the GT yesterday, he came back to me today with his usual, rational perspective.
As I told you yesterday, BlogLand, I lost my mind a little bit about not losing any weight, not progressing in my training, and every little thing in between. The stress made some little concerns into giant impossible mountains to be scaled. I'm sure many of you, who have embarked upon long journey's can relate here... when you start looking at how far you still have to go - particularly when it's negative light - it becomes overwhelming.
Thankfully, I have a GT who can read between the lines of my freak outs and inject a little calm, sanity. In response to my comments about not losing weight, he reminded me that according to my measurement tracking, I'd lost a total of 2 inches over all in the last month. So, maybe no weight loss, but perhaps I was gaining muscle (which would account for the INCREASE in the size of my calves. Greeaaat. Lol.). Okay. 2 inches lost. That does sound a lot better than "OMGIhaven'tlostanyweightWAAAaa...." and the other things I was throwing at him and the rest of the universe. He reminded me to think about the way things were fitting. And if this was a plateau, we'd just keep plugging away until we got it moving again. Complete lack of panic, complete confidence in the process. It is difficult to not believe someone addressing you like that.
I shut up, listened and got ready to follow directions. It sounds like we're getting ready to change up my program a little to accommodate for the season's crazy race schedule, and target some new goals. However, in order to do this, apparently, we need a little more hard and fast data to analyze. In light of this, I was given a couple new tasks:
1) Wear a pedometer for the rest of the week (to acquire a baseline activity level... which ought to be awesome, considering I'm literally attached to my desk 8 hours a day by a cord.).
2) When completing my food log, which I've been doing already, we need more specific data. Anything with a label, I am to record Protein, Fat and Carbs. Also, I busted out my food scale, to help in the accuracy of portion measurement.
Argh. BlogLand, I HATE the nutrition piece of things. My inner Fat Chick stomps around inside me like a two year old with a broken toy, at the mere mention of having to track my food intake like that. It makes it feel like Weight Watchers or something like that all over again. Like a "Diet." Although, this would be a good time to remind myself that I was pretty successful when I was tracking appropriately on WW. So... starting tomorrow, I track. Protein, Fat, Carbs on anything with a label. I kind of want to die, but I'm trying to keep a positive spin on things. What's harder - tracking some additional data and being mindful of what I eat, or living continually frustrated with the spare tire around my middle?
As I always come back to, BlogLand, your success is a CHOICE. If you decide that you want it bad enough, you will stick to that decision and make the changes that need to happen. I decided long ago that I didn't want to keep living my life on that same track, and I intended to change it and chase down a new goal. Once you commit to a decision, it is simpler to follow through. Right now, to reach my goals, I *need* to track my food appropriately. It's not for the rest of my life, or until the end of time, but for a finite period of time, while we establish what I could be doing better. Hell, who knows, maybe I'm not eating ENOUGH (a girl can dream!).
With that, I'm off to hit the pillow and try to log more than 5 hours of shut-eye tonight. Tomorrow is a day for refocus and getting my head back in the game. Even if that means spinning around all the boxes and jars to note all the labels.
Spartan Up, and get it done.
So, today became a Rest Day, BlogLand. I couldn't sleep to save my life last night and when I did, nightmares abound. I've pretty much spent my entire life trying to find non-chemical solutions to this sleeping disorder of mine, but pretty much, when the stress comes down, the sleep gets screwed up.
I woke up this morning feeling just beat up. (I've been averaging 4-5 hours of "sleep" a night for the last couple of days...) I was supposed to go to CrossFit this morning, but when the alarm went off, there was no way. I could've willed my self there for 6am, but to be honest, it wouldn't have been good for anyone, or my body. I went back to sleep.
However, today, I've got some new things to think about and focus on. After posing my current concerns, doubts and questions to the GT yesterday, he came back to me today with his usual, rational perspective.
As I told you yesterday, BlogLand, I lost my mind a little bit about not losing any weight, not progressing in my training, and every little thing in between. The stress made some little concerns into giant impossible mountains to be scaled. I'm sure many of you, who have embarked upon long journey's can relate here... when you start looking at how far you still have to go - particularly when it's negative light - it becomes overwhelming.
Thankfully, I have a GT who can read between the lines of my freak outs and inject a little calm, sanity. In response to my comments about not losing weight, he reminded me that according to my measurement tracking, I'd lost a total of 2 inches over all in the last month. So, maybe no weight loss, but perhaps I was gaining muscle (which would account for the INCREASE in the size of my calves. Greeaaat. Lol.). Okay. 2 inches lost. That does sound a lot better than "OMGIhaven'tlostanyweightWAAAaa...." and the other things I was throwing at him and the rest of the universe. He reminded me to think about the way things were fitting. And if this was a plateau, we'd just keep plugging away until we got it moving again. Complete lack of panic, complete confidence in the process. It is difficult to not believe someone addressing you like that.
I shut up, listened and got ready to follow directions. It sounds like we're getting ready to change up my program a little to accommodate for the season's crazy race schedule, and target some new goals. However, in order to do this, apparently, we need a little more hard and fast data to analyze. In light of this, I was given a couple new tasks:
1) Wear a pedometer for the rest of the week (to acquire a baseline activity level... which ought to be awesome, considering I'm literally attached to my desk 8 hours a day by a cord.).
2) When completing my food log, which I've been doing already, we need more specific data. Anything with a label, I am to record Protein, Fat and Carbs. Also, I busted out my food scale, to help in the accuracy of portion measurement.
Argh. BlogLand, I HATE the nutrition piece of things. My inner Fat Chick stomps around inside me like a two year old with a broken toy, at the mere mention of having to track my food intake like that. It makes it feel like Weight Watchers or something like that all over again. Like a "Diet." Although, this would be a good time to remind myself that I was pretty successful when I was tracking appropriately on WW. So... starting tomorrow, I track. Protein, Fat, Carbs on anything with a label. I kind of want to die, but I'm trying to keep a positive spin on things. What's harder - tracking some additional data and being mindful of what I eat, or living continually frustrated with the spare tire around my middle?
As I always come back to, BlogLand, your success is a CHOICE. If you decide that you want it bad enough, you will stick to that decision and make the changes that need to happen. I decided long ago that I didn't want to keep living my life on that same track, and I intended to change it and chase down a new goal. Once you commit to a decision, it is simpler to follow through. Right now, to reach my goals, I *need* to track my food appropriately. It's not for the rest of my life, or until the end of time, but for a finite period of time, while we establish what I could be doing better. Hell, who knows, maybe I'm not eating ENOUGH (a girl can dream!).
With that, I'm off to hit the pillow and try to log more than 5 hours of shut-eye tonight. Tomorrow is a day for refocus and getting my head back in the game. Even if that means spinning around all the boxes and jars to note all the labels.
Spartan Up, and get it done.
Tuesday, May 22, 2012
You gain strength, courage and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You are able to say to yourself, "I lived through this horror. I can take the next thing that comes along." You must do the thing you think you cannot do. -Eleanor Roosevelt
Spartan Shape Up, Day 307:
It has been a difficult day, BlogLand. You know those days when it just seems like everyone is saying the wrong thing to you, your thought train is spiraling down the wrong track of negativity, and you're having trouble dragging yourself out? Yeah. One of those days.
Long story short, I started my day feeling pretty discouraged. We are perhaps our own worst critic, and I know I am a hearty example of that. As a competitive, overachiever type, what I'm doing is never "good enough" and I'm always seeking the next thing. In my old age and experience, I am learning to see, note, and take joy in the little victories... although, today, thanks to the dark grey mental cloud, I could not see them.
I know part of this is because I'm nervous about an upcoming race... I'm running a 6 mile leg in the KeyBank Vermont City Marathon & Relay this weekend... Road running, while I can and do, do it, is mentally really difficult for me. This will be a long trek. And I'm nervous because I'm part of a team. Usually, when I run these races, if I'm slow, or need to walk or something like that, it's not a big deal and it only effects me... but here, there will be a "team" to think about. Which will be good, I'm sure that will motivate me to push harder... but among other things, it caused a flare up of my FCS (Fat Chick Syndrome). My FCS, taking my bad mental day as an opportunity, reminded me that I'll be the slowest one on the team, probably, ruin their time, etc. I fought it.
But then I thought about how I've been struggling with my weight, quite a bit. And I'm up again, and I can't feel like it's muscle. And how I still can't do a pull up (this really nags at me). And how I feel like I don't stack up as a runner and I'm not moving forward, and the only thing I saw in recent race pictures was spare tires around my middle... and on and on and on.
It's been a hard day. I let the negative thoughts and toxic sentiments that were thrown at me today in my inbox and careless comments, really effect me. That is what I find most frustrating.
Nonetheless, I tried to be proactive and I put in a distress message to the GT. It sounds like I've got a new running program coming to me imminently, as well as some other revamped plans. I have faith that between the two of us (and with the insane support I have found in all of you out there!), we can get me on the right track again.
In the meantime, it was time to stay focused and get to business. I REALLY did not want to do Sprints tonight. I tried to make excuses on my way home. My legs were shot from the weekend. Surely they were sore. They definitely needed an extra day off.... I was feeding myself all sorts of crap, just because I was having a bad day, and I didn't want to run. Thankfully, I knew my buddies would be expecting me. No excuses.
My Sprints tonight were not my best, but I got them done. Times looked like this:
(200m Sprint, 200m Rest x 4):
Sprint 1: 38.67
Sprint 2: 41.27
Sprint 3: 41.53
Sprint 4: 44.75
Compared to my more recent times, these were not so great. My first one was pretty awesome (I think one of my fastest), but after that, it was a quick down hill. My legs just didn't feel like they had it today. Argh. I tried, and overall, I guess these times were not bad, in the scheme of things.
My buddies pushed me on and we got after our usual tire flips. There is something very gratifying about being able to flip a very large tire on your own. The "Thud" it makes when it lands can be very satisfying.
Now, I confess, BlogLand... my head is still not back to where it should be. But the difference between Aja 2.0 and the Old Me, is that despite the grey negative cloud in my thoughts today, I still got the WOD done. No excuses. Old Me would've been on the couch and full of reasons that I couldn't have done it today.
I guess I've at least got that one small victory for today. Unyielding Perseverance.
With that, I'm going to bed. I need to clear away the negativity and wake up tomorrow refreshed and with a better outlook. I'm going to CrossFit tomorrow, hoping for a heavy WOD. There is something about "lifting things up and putting them down" that I find very zen. Some people have their yoga.... I dead lift.
In the wise words of Dori, from Finding Nemo, "... Just keep swimming, just keep swimming..."
It has been a difficult day, BlogLand. You know those days when it just seems like everyone is saying the wrong thing to you, your thought train is spiraling down the wrong track of negativity, and you're having trouble dragging yourself out? Yeah. One of those days.
Long story short, I started my day feeling pretty discouraged. We are perhaps our own worst critic, and I know I am a hearty example of that. As a competitive, overachiever type, what I'm doing is never "good enough" and I'm always seeking the next thing. In my old age and experience, I am learning to see, note, and take joy in the little victories... although, today, thanks to the dark grey mental cloud, I could not see them.
I know part of this is because I'm nervous about an upcoming race... I'm running a 6 mile leg in the KeyBank Vermont City Marathon & Relay this weekend... Road running, while I can and do, do it, is mentally really difficult for me. This will be a long trek. And I'm nervous because I'm part of a team. Usually, when I run these races, if I'm slow, or need to walk or something like that, it's not a big deal and it only effects me... but here, there will be a "team" to think about. Which will be good, I'm sure that will motivate me to push harder... but among other things, it caused a flare up of my FCS (Fat Chick Syndrome). My FCS, taking my bad mental day as an opportunity, reminded me that I'll be the slowest one on the team, probably, ruin their time, etc. I fought it.
But then I thought about how I've been struggling with my weight, quite a bit. And I'm up again, and I can't feel like it's muscle. And how I still can't do a pull up (this really nags at me). And how I feel like I don't stack up as a runner and I'm not moving forward, and the only thing I saw in recent race pictures was spare tires around my middle... and on and on and on.
It's been a hard day. I let the negative thoughts and toxic sentiments that were thrown at me today in my inbox and careless comments, really effect me. That is what I find most frustrating.
Nonetheless, I tried to be proactive and I put in a distress message to the GT. It sounds like I've got a new running program coming to me imminently, as well as some other revamped plans. I have faith that between the two of us (and with the insane support I have found in all of you out there!), we can get me on the right track again.
In the meantime, it was time to stay focused and get to business. I REALLY did not want to do Sprints tonight. I tried to make excuses on my way home. My legs were shot from the weekend. Surely they were sore. They definitely needed an extra day off.... I was feeding myself all sorts of crap, just because I was having a bad day, and I didn't want to run. Thankfully, I knew my buddies would be expecting me. No excuses.
My Sprints tonight were not my best, but I got them done. Times looked like this:
(200m Sprint, 200m Rest x 4):
Sprint 1: 38.67
Sprint 2: 41.27
Sprint 3: 41.53
Sprint 4: 44.75
Compared to my more recent times, these were not so great. My first one was pretty awesome (I think one of my fastest), but after that, it was a quick down hill. My legs just didn't feel like they had it today. Argh. I tried, and overall, I guess these times were not bad, in the scheme of things.
My buddies pushed me on and we got after our usual tire flips. There is something very gratifying about being able to flip a very large tire on your own. The "Thud" it makes when it lands can be very satisfying.
Now, I confess, BlogLand... my head is still not back to where it should be. But the difference between Aja 2.0 and the Old Me, is that despite the grey negative cloud in my thoughts today, I still got the WOD done. No excuses. Old Me would've been on the couch and full of reasons that I couldn't have done it today.
I guess I've at least got that one small victory for today. Unyielding Perseverance.
With that, I'm going to bed. I need to clear away the negativity and wake up tomorrow refreshed and with a better outlook. I'm going to CrossFit tomorrow, hoping for a heavy WOD. There is something about "lifting things up and putting them down" that I find very zen. Some people have their yoga.... I dead lift.
In the wise words of Dori, from Finding Nemo, "... Just keep swimming, just keep swimming..."
Friday, April 13, 2012
"Never let your head hang down. Never give up and sit down and grieve. Find another way." ~Satchel Paige
Spartan Shape-Up, Day 268:
What a DAY, BlogLand. It turned out to be a beautiful Friday here in VT... warm, but not too warm (like March should be), and sunny. FINALLY.
Today was 5K training with a couple of co-workers/friends, since we're preparing to run the Corporate Cup 5K in mid-may. Prizes include company-wide bragging rights, as well as general race feelings of accomplishment. SO, we train on Friday's after work. Luckily, we have access to a great rec path not too far away, that has marked mileage, as well as lovely little scenic rolling hills. The tourists love this place.
Our training trio also had a tiny addition, today - one of the ladies had brought her (SO CUTE.) daughter in the jogging stroller. She had mentioned that pushing the jogging stroller was quite the effort last time she tried it, and it would be great to be able to switch off. Having never tried running with a loaded stroller, I thought to myself (as I often stupidly do), "how hard could it be? It's on wheels, her little girl isn't that big...." so I volunteered to take that duty. Since a 5K is a pretty usual run for me, I figured any added challenge would be a bonus, and would allow my other two buddies (who are just getting back into running) to focus on what they were trying to accomplish. An excellent plan!
(This is where I must temporarily digress and throw a shout out to Spartan Chick Shaina - remember the one I told you passed me last week in my race, pushing a double jogging stroller? Dear Shaina... I was humbled then.... and now.... holy crap, lady, you are a beast. I am proud to say you passed me.)
If you have never tried running and pushing one of these things before, it seems very simple. However, I soon learned that - like most of these workouts - it is anything but. Yes, it glides along nicely, but you are still pushing against constant resistance. Not to be thwarted, I took off my long sleeves ( it got warm fast...), and settled down to -work-.
I got in the swing of things and how to run well with this stroller after about 1/2 mile or so... just as we hit the first "quaint, rolling hill". This is the point at which I learned just how heavy a jogging stroller and 3 (?) year old are, when they have absolutely no forward momentum of their own, and have gravity working against you. They may look cute, but they are 80 pounds (?) of something that is working against you, while you are trying to keep pace and move it up a hill. But it was early in the run, and I navigated this first hill pretty well.
Soon after, I learned that I could maneuver the stroller with one hand on the flat, freeing my other arm up to swing in stride. That helped the situation, allowing me to get into more of a regular motion that my body is used to. I was warm, and I was ON a MISSION now. There was no way I was going to pass off this duty and be defeated by a sporty yellow stroller and a cherubic, blond tiny chicklette.
On we went. I was in the groove. I figured out it was more efficient to just plow up the hills. While I was still having to push the effort, it was over more quickly... and probably, those weighted hill sprints (I think 6 in total?) were good to break up the run and challenge my muscles a bit more.
I did stumble across the best motivator EVER, though. As we jogged along, the Mom, unfettered by stroller, would sometimes get ahead of us. If she got *too* far ahead - meaning I wasn't busting my butt enough - the mad cuteness in the stroller would start saying things like, "Catch Mommy!!!" and "MOMMY WAIT!". Oh God. If that doesn't make you run faster. How could you say no to that!?!
.... As a reward, apparently when I was keeping up the appropriate pace, the wee one would sing pleasantly to herself.
As came back, when I knew we were in the last mile or so, I figured it was time to push it a bit, and really get some good work in. I've slacked a bit this week with other WODs, so time to push. I picked up the pace.
.... which oddly felt good. (WHAT!? Was I having fun?!)
My body felt really strong running today, so I pushed it more. More speed. We were in the last quarter mile.
Can you do sprints pushing a jogging stroller?
.... OH YES you can.
I challenged the Mom of the Wee Cuteness to a sprint. And by that I mean I said (as I trotted out in front), "Don't let me beat you!!!" In retrospect, it was probably a pretty evil thing to do, as both my running buddies were getting tired.... but, I figure, everyone needs a push and a little incentive sometimes, right? I know I do.
We hauled ass. There is no better way to say that. She busted past me, right as we got to the end.... but I maintain that that was because we hit an uphill and I had to push her baby. LOL. Or she was running like something was chasing her. It was GOOD WORK. 5K, in the books for today, no problemo.
I decided, as I was running the last bit of it, I was enjoying the process of running with the added challenge. I think this means that I'm going to have to start running with Extras (weight vest? log? rock? tire?) more often. It was really nice to feel like I was challenged by something outside of my own body.
After mentioning this excellent workout and my revelation about running with weight, I got the most awesome response. Sparta's own Sergeant Sedlak (you remember way back when, when Todd came to try and kill me on the track?), simply commented:
"Where's that girl who couldn't run three miles without walking?"
... annnd.... I had instant teary eyes (Thanks, Todd! geesh. ;-)). I was suddenly reminded very distinctly of how far I had come. I think I really needed that. I remembered very vividly the extreme frustration because I just *couldn't* seem to get over the hump of running straight through a 5K without walking, no matter how often I did it, or how hard I tried. My own brain was sabotaging me somewhere I couldn't find to tackle. I also remember in extreme clarity, the day that I finally accomplished that run, jumping into a giant hug, sweaty and ecstatic, at the finish line of a little 5K with my GT, who had coached me through running the whole thing - even when I was "sure" I could not.
In between those two moments, I found support and help came from everywhere - even places you never expect. Veritable strangers who are willing to meet you at the crack of dawn to help you start seeing yourself in a different light, hordes of online friends who sent messages and tips to me, who'd they'd never met, acquaintances who'd tell me that they were inspired by my determination, a GT who sticks with me through extreme crazy spells, and (a select few) friends who always listened patiently (even when they didn't care or know what I was talking about), about that day's run... Even the completely random strangers who the Cosmos would sporadically have cross my path and cheer me up a hill, or beep support at me running hard in the city.
I have been beyond lucky, BlogLand. Moments like tonight, when I am reminded of my beginnings and the journey it has been, really reinforce that for me. I'm proud of myself. Not necessarily because I ran today, or I ate an apple instead of a cookie, but because I made the decision to DO THIS. And I am.
I'm not where I want to be, yet (and really, can you ever be "there"?), but I'm having one hell of a journey. It's nerve-wracking at times, I doubt myself, I cry because it hurts, I scream because I still struggle, I wonder if I'll ever make progress..... Then I am reminded that I *KNOW* I will make more progress. Because I have. Because of the most odd-ball fabulous support system, ever. Because I'm not a quitter. Because I didn't come this far to turn back now. Because I CAN (and there are not enough Thank Yous, for those of you who've helped me really believe that).
And I've decided I'm not done, yet.
What a DAY, BlogLand. It turned out to be a beautiful Friday here in VT... warm, but not too warm (like March should be), and sunny. FINALLY.
Today was 5K training with a couple of co-workers/friends, since we're preparing to run the Corporate Cup 5K in mid-may. Prizes include company-wide bragging rights, as well as general race feelings of accomplishment. SO, we train on Friday's after work. Luckily, we have access to a great rec path not too far away, that has marked mileage, as well as lovely little scenic rolling hills. The tourists love this place.
Our training trio also had a tiny addition, today - one of the ladies had brought her (SO CUTE.) daughter in the jogging stroller. She had mentioned that pushing the jogging stroller was quite the effort last time she tried it, and it would be great to be able to switch off. Having never tried running with a loaded stroller, I thought to myself (as I often stupidly do), "how hard could it be? It's on wheels, her little girl isn't that big...." so I volunteered to take that duty. Since a 5K is a pretty usual run for me, I figured any added challenge would be a bonus, and would allow my other two buddies (who are just getting back into running) to focus on what they were trying to accomplish. An excellent plan!
(This is where I must temporarily digress and throw a shout out to Spartan Chick Shaina - remember the one I told you passed me last week in my race, pushing a double jogging stroller? Dear Shaina... I was humbled then.... and now.... holy crap, lady, you are a beast. I am proud to say you passed me.)
If you have never tried running and pushing one of these things before, it seems very simple. However, I soon learned that - like most of these workouts - it is anything but. Yes, it glides along nicely, but you are still pushing against constant resistance. Not to be thwarted, I took off my long sleeves ( it got warm fast...), and settled down to -work-.
I got in the swing of things and how to run well with this stroller after about 1/2 mile or so... just as we hit the first "quaint, rolling hill". This is the point at which I learned just how heavy a jogging stroller and 3 (?) year old are, when they have absolutely no forward momentum of their own, and have gravity working against you. They may look cute, but they are 80 pounds (?) of something that is working against you, while you are trying to keep pace and move it up a hill. But it was early in the run, and I navigated this first hill pretty well.
Soon after, I learned that I could maneuver the stroller with one hand on the flat, freeing my other arm up to swing in stride. That helped the situation, allowing me to get into more of a regular motion that my body is used to. I was warm, and I was ON a MISSION now. There was no way I was going to pass off this duty and be defeated by a sporty yellow stroller and a cherubic, blond tiny chicklette.
On we went. I was in the groove. I figured out it was more efficient to just plow up the hills. While I was still having to push the effort, it was over more quickly... and probably, those weighted hill sprints (I think 6 in total?) were good to break up the run and challenge my muscles a bit more.
I did stumble across the best motivator EVER, though. As we jogged along, the Mom, unfettered by stroller, would sometimes get ahead of us. If she got *too* far ahead - meaning I wasn't busting my butt enough - the mad cuteness in the stroller would start saying things like, "Catch Mommy!!!" and "MOMMY WAIT!". Oh God. If that doesn't make you run faster. How could you say no to that!?!
.... As a reward, apparently when I was keeping up the appropriate pace, the wee one would sing pleasantly to herself.
As came back, when I knew we were in the last mile or so, I figured it was time to push it a bit, and really get some good work in. I've slacked a bit this week with other WODs, so time to push. I picked up the pace.
.... which oddly felt good. (WHAT!? Was I having fun?!)
My body felt really strong running today, so I pushed it more. More speed. We were in the last quarter mile.
Can you do sprints pushing a jogging stroller?
.... OH YES you can.
I challenged the Mom of the Wee Cuteness to a sprint. And by that I mean I said (as I trotted out in front), "Don't let me beat you!!!" In retrospect, it was probably a pretty evil thing to do, as both my running buddies were getting tired.... but, I figure, everyone needs a push and a little incentive sometimes, right? I know I do.
We hauled ass. There is no better way to say that. She busted past me, right as we got to the end.... but I maintain that that was because we hit an uphill and I had to push her baby. LOL. Or she was running like something was chasing her. It was GOOD WORK. 5K, in the books for today, no problemo.
I decided, as I was running the last bit of it, I was enjoying the process of running with the added challenge. I think this means that I'm going to have to start running with Extras (weight vest? log? rock? tire?) more often. It was really nice to feel like I was challenged by something outside of my own body.
After mentioning this excellent workout and my revelation about running with weight, I got the most awesome response. Sparta's own Sergeant Sedlak (you remember way back when, when Todd came to try and kill me on the track?), simply commented:
"Where's that girl who couldn't run three miles without walking?"
... annnd.... I had instant teary eyes (Thanks, Todd! geesh. ;-)). I was suddenly reminded very distinctly of how far I had come. I think I really needed that. I remembered very vividly the extreme frustration because I just *couldn't* seem to get over the hump of running straight through a 5K without walking, no matter how often I did it, or how hard I tried. My own brain was sabotaging me somewhere I couldn't find to tackle. I also remember in extreme clarity, the day that I finally accomplished that run, jumping into a giant hug, sweaty and ecstatic, at the finish line of a little 5K with my GT, who had coached me through running the whole thing - even when I was "sure" I could not.
In between those two moments, I found support and help came from everywhere - even places you never expect. Veritable strangers who are willing to meet you at the crack of dawn to help you start seeing yourself in a different light, hordes of online friends who sent messages and tips to me, who'd they'd never met, acquaintances who'd tell me that they were inspired by my determination, a GT who sticks with me through extreme crazy spells, and (a select few) friends who always listened patiently (even when they didn't care or know what I was talking about), about that day's run... Even the completely random strangers who the Cosmos would sporadically have cross my path and cheer me up a hill, or beep support at me running hard in the city.
I have been beyond lucky, BlogLand. Moments like tonight, when I am reminded of my beginnings and the journey it has been, really reinforce that for me. I'm proud of myself. Not necessarily because I ran today, or I ate an apple instead of a cookie, but because I made the decision to DO THIS. And I am.
I'm not where I want to be, yet (and really, can you ever be "there"?), but I'm having one hell of a journey. It's nerve-wracking at times, I doubt myself, I cry because it hurts, I scream because I still struggle, I wonder if I'll ever make progress..... Then I am reminded that I *KNOW* I will make more progress. Because I have. Because of the most odd-ball fabulous support system, ever. Because I'm not a quitter. Because I didn't come this far to turn back now. Because I CAN (and there are not enough Thank Yous, for those of you who've helped me really believe that).
And I've decided I'm not done, yet.
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
"I’m not where I want to be, but I’m not where I was." - William Coleman
Spartan Shape-Up, Day 252:
What a day, BlogLand. I'm struggling today with a flare-up of FCS (fat chick syndrome), but trying to remain positive. I've noticed I struggle the most with bouts of FCS when Life-In-General gets a little out of control. My home/personal life has had me stressed out like crazy, I'm not entirely happy with my performance in my training, and as one thing leads to another... BOOM. Insert tiny spark for raging instance of FCS.
Here's what happened today. The 10K race I ran this weekend just released the pictures. I was SO hoping to have a bad ass picture to go with the feeling of badassery that I felt after completing that race in the time I did. This is the picture I got.
Now, when I look at this rationally, I see that I am laughing at the photographer, still running, and looking strong - all in the last .25 miles of my FIRST 10K (6.2 mi) race. THAT is something I should absolutely be proud of. Not to mention, if I was still pretty, after 6 miles of running, clearly I wasn't doing it right.
Having said that, as I'm sure many of you can relate, here is what I saw first: OMG, do you SEE that flab roll around the middle!!??!? Look at the size of my CALVES?! (and back to) OMFG... is that REALLY what I'm sporting around the middle?!?! Wait, I only have one chin now, RIGHT?!... etc. etc.. etc...
I don't think you ever really get over FCS. You just learn to handle it differently. Today, I didn't do such a good job. Too much stress background noise in my life, and I let the FCS really take hold and blur a picture I should really be proud of. For comparison, let's take a look at the picture from my first 5K (10/29/11):
There's a lot less (like at least 20-25#) of me in my new picture (even if it was not captured at our most flattering moment). Not to mention, I am now happy to say that I have some seriously solid Quads and Hamstrings, that have made my thighs a thing to be reckoned with (squats, I own you!). AND, not the least of my accomplishments, the first picture (you know, the one I was freaking out about), is at the end of a 10K RUN - of which I ran the whole thing. The below picture is almost to the end of a 5K run, where I had to stop and walk multiples times. The accomplishment is in the journey, BlogLand. Not in what is still to be done. There is ALWAYS work to be done, things to improve, and ways to change. The question is not what those are, but are you willing to keep working toward them. I'm still working. Proud of that. End of Story.
AND, with that, I will segue to today's WOD. I hate it, BlogLand, because it is SO hard for me right now. Hard, though, is exactly what I needed after today; when you are working to capacity, it is near impossible to continue to focus on other things or let your brain wander, because your body needs all of your brain power to get you through the task at hand. Enter Sprint WOD:
Again, a simple task: Sprint 200m, walk 200m. Repeat x4.
I did a bit of a 1/2 mile warm up jog, got my blood flowing, and my running buddy and I headed over to the track. It was great having her there, 1) for the moral support and 2) it is always nice to have company and inspiration. It worked out well, though - she'd jog on ahead and act as my "carrot" to chase. I'd sprint, catch her, pass her, and cross my finish line. It gave me a little bit more of a tangible goal.
Much like last time, my first sprint went the best (even slightly faster than last time, I think!), then they went downhill quickly from there. I struggle HARD with the second 100 meters of each sprint. But I guess that's why I'm doing this - to push my body a little bit further than it wants to go, and develop myself in a new way.
My sprint times went as follows:
Lap 1: 39.5 sec
Lap 2: 43.1
Lap 3: 45.1
Lap 4: 51.2
.... It definitely got a little ugly at the end. I just felt like I was out of gas and I was feeling nauseous. Hello, Lactic Acid Threshold.
While I'm not thrilled with those times, I'm satisfied with the fact that I did the wod even though I hate this one, it was effing cold out, and I really really really would've rather done anything else. But I did it.
My buddy and I followed it up with a nice (slooow! my legs were toast!) 1 mile cool down jog, just to keep the blood flowing.
Now, I'm sitting here blogging, after forcing myself to stay on my legs and make myself some dinner. My legs just feel exhausted. I find it totally amazing how a WOD totaling less than 5 minutes of "work" time can ruin my legs so much. Amazing. I must read up more on the concept behind sprinting. My inner science nerd needs to rationalize why I want to die right now (and at the end of every sprint!).
I am pretty sure my left quad is quivering a bit. LOL. I'm hoping to wake up in the morning feeling relatively unscathed, since I did wear my bionic pants and calf sleeves, with the thought that I could forestall some of the soreness I'm dreading in the next few days. This remains to be seen. I'm thinking there may still be a foam roller, Tiger Balm and or an Ice Bath in my future (or all of the above)....
And with that... I bid you a Goo.... ZZZZZZzzzzZZZZzzz......
What a day, BlogLand. I'm struggling today with a flare-up of FCS (fat chick syndrome), but trying to remain positive. I've noticed I struggle the most with bouts of FCS when Life-In-General gets a little out of control. My home/personal life has had me stressed out like crazy, I'm not entirely happy with my performance in my training, and as one thing leads to another... BOOM. Insert tiny spark for raging instance of FCS.
 |
| Spring Fling 10K, March 24, 2012 |
Now, when I look at this rationally, I see that I am laughing at the photographer, still running, and looking strong - all in the last .25 miles of my FIRST 10K (6.2 mi) race. THAT is something I should absolutely be proud of. Not to mention, if I was still pretty, after 6 miles of running, clearly I wasn't doing it right.
Having said that, as I'm sure many of you can relate, here is what I saw first: OMG, do you SEE that flab roll around the middle!!??!? Look at the size of my CALVES?! (and back to) OMFG... is that REALLY what I'm sporting around the middle?!?! Wait, I only have one chin now, RIGHT?!... etc. etc.. etc...
I don't think you ever really get over FCS. You just learn to handle it differently. Today, I didn't do such a good job. Too much stress background noise in my life, and I let the FCS really take hold and blur a picture I should really be proud of. For comparison, let's take a look at the picture from my first 5K (10/29/11):
 |
| Kingdom Challenge 5K, October 29, 2011 |
There's a lot less (like at least 20-25#) of me in my new picture (even if it was not captured at our most flattering moment). Not to mention, I am now happy to say that I have some seriously solid Quads and Hamstrings, that have made my thighs a thing to be reckoned with (squats, I own you!). AND, not the least of my accomplishments, the first picture (you know, the one I was freaking out about), is at the end of a 10K RUN - of which I ran the whole thing. The below picture is almost to the end of a 5K run, where I had to stop and walk multiples times. The accomplishment is in the journey, BlogLand. Not in what is still to be done. There is ALWAYS work to be done, things to improve, and ways to change. The question is not what those are, but are you willing to keep working toward them. I'm still working. Proud of that. End of Story.
AND, with that, I will segue to today's WOD. I hate it, BlogLand, because it is SO hard for me right now. Hard, though, is exactly what I needed after today; when you are working to capacity, it is near impossible to continue to focus on other things or let your brain wander, because your body needs all of your brain power to get you through the task at hand. Enter Sprint WOD:
Again, a simple task: Sprint 200m, walk 200m. Repeat x4.
I did a bit of a 1/2 mile warm up jog, got my blood flowing, and my running buddy and I headed over to the track. It was great having her there, 1) for the moral support and 2) it is always nice to have company and inspiration. It worked out well, though - she'd jog on ahead and act as my "carrot" to chase. I'd sprint, catch her, pass her, and cross my finish line. It gave me a little bit more of a tangible goal.
Much like last time, my first sprint went the best (even slightly faster than last time, I think!), then they went downhill quickly from there. I struggle HARD with the second 100 meters of each sprint. But I guess that's why I'm doing this - to push my body a little bit further than it wants to go, and develop myself in a new way.
My sprint times went as follows:
Lap 1: 39.5 sec
Lap 2: 43.1
Lap 3: 45.1
Lap 4: 51.2
.... It definitely got a little ugly at the end. I just felt like I was out of gas and I was feeling nauseous. Hello, Lactic Acid Threshold.
While I'm not thrilled with those times, I'm satisfied with the fact that I did the wod even though I hate this one, it was effing cold out, and I really really really would've rather done anything else. But I did it.
My buddy and I followed it up with a nice (slooow! my legs were toast!) 1 mile cool down jog, just to keep the blood flowing.
Now, I'm sitting here blogging, after forcing myself to stay on my legs and make myself some dinner. My legs just feel exhausted. I find it totally amazing how a WOD totaling less than 5 minutes of "work" time can ruin my legs so much. Amazing. I must read up more on the concept behind sprinting. My inner science nerd needs to rationalize why I want to die right now (and at the end of every sprint!).
I am pretty sure my left quad is quivering a bit. LOL. I'm hoping to wake up in the morning feeling relatively unscathed, since I did wear my bionic pants and calf sleeves, with the thought that I could forestall some of the soreness I'm dreading in the next few days. This remains to be seen. I'm thinking there may still be a foam roller, Tiger Balm and or an Ice Bath in my future (or all of the above)....
And with that... I bid you a Goo.... ZZZZZZzzzzZZZZzzz......
Sunday, March 18, 2012
"Genius begins great works; labor alone finishes them." - Joseph Joubert
Spartan Shape-Up, Day 242 & 243:
Sometimes, BlogLand, Mental Training is the hardest obstacle to overcome; not the push ups, not the running, not the consistency, but your own head. You've heard me talk about it ad nauseum before, I'm sure, but it's a big piece of my journey it seems... and thus, today's blog is dedicated to Mental Speedbumps (and navigating them).
It's been an up and down weekend.
Saturday, Day 242:
I was pretty excited about this, BlogLand. I had a new WOD challenge to try - something I've never done before: Sprints. Conveniently, I live right across the street from a highschool track and it was a balmy 70 degrees (VT in MARCH? what?!). I was totally stoked to get out and run today. First piece of awesome: I didn't have to don 300 layers to walk out the door. In fact, I am happy to report that I was in light capris and a tank top. YEAH. Woot!
So, for a Warm-Up, I jogged out my door and down and around the long way to the track, for .55 mile. Then, I walked one loop of the track to pick out the markers for my next task:
4 x 200m Sprints. What this breaks down to, on a 400m track is: sprint as hard and fast as you can for half the track, then walk half the track, then sprint half, walk half, etc. until you've done 4 sprints.
I admit, openly, my GT was right. Again (and yet, I still question him. lol). When he told me about this sprint wod, I was all like, "that's IT!?"... "That'll take me like 10 minutes?!"... at which point he informed me that it'll be harder than anything I've done, and I'll probably want to die. I laughed. (You'd think I'd learn.)
So, I set up my trusty phone-stopwatch app, toed up to my Start line, and off I went. I was blazing down that stretch, it felt like. My legs felt powerful and fast. 100 yards down... "oh, only halfway..." I thought to myself and pushed a little more for the second half of the sprint. WHEW. Glad it was over, but felt like it was pretty good, checking my time in at 40.3 seconds.
It's true, my heart was racing, and I was definitely huffing and puffing, but I had half the track to walk it off. No problemo. ... right? Half the track seemed remarkably short, but as I approached my Start line again, I felt like I had recovered pretty well (focus on breathing!), and I was ready to go again.
Set up stopwatch... Go. Great initial burst, but had to definitely push to the end, particularly, again, through that 2nd half of the sprint. It seems like my body is good to go for 100m, but 200m makes me work. Still, sliding into the finish line, I clocked in at 41.2 seconds. Sure, it wasn't as fast as the first time, but that seemed like a pretty reasonable gain. As I checked my time and concentrated on getting my breathing back under control, I realized I wasn't feeling quite as fresh as the first time around. I'd done less than 2 minutes of "work" at this point, and I was already fatigued? Could that be right?
The "walk" portion of the track definitely morphed into something much shorter this time, it seemed, and I walked slower. As I approached the start line for my 3rd go, I took a deep breath and reminded myself that I.Could.Do.This. My legs were not so sure. Hit the stopwatch and off I went.
I fought to keep up a speed. I tried to concentrate on continuing to breathe through the sprint and keep my legs moving.
Finish line: 46.1 seconds. Eww.
As I crashed through the finish line this time, though, I careened to a momentary stop for the "Iwanttodie" hands-on-knees-pose. It was brief - 5-10 seconds - but it happened. Whew. After 3 sprints? and there was one MORE? Oh my.
I walked. Slowly. My legs were REALLY dubious we were going to eek out another sprint. My lungs were exploding. CLEARLY, we had stumbled upon a new, distinct challenge.
As I approached the start line for the final time, I wasn't quite ready. I remember scoffing at the GT when he told me that the half lap might not be enough to recover. Someday, I will learn.
I walked 2 small circles (=1/2 track walk + 10-15 seconds), and then hit the watch and pushed through the Start line.
.
.
.
Longest 200m of my life. I fought, I told myself it was the last one. Reminded myself to leave it all out there, because I didn't need to do it again, that day. I could do anything for a mere 40 seconds!
.
.
I swear to you, BlogLand... That 200m felt like 400m. I crossed the Finish line on empty and ground to a halt. Hands on knees, 20 seconds. No, Self, we are not going to throw up. No. No. No. Walk it off. I walked myself a finishing lap, while nursing my water bottle a bit.
Holy shit. Less than 4 minutes of actual "work" and I was DONE. WTF!?
After another lap around the track, I felt a little more human. I found my breathing again, and my legs felt a little more solid. So, being the persistent over-achiever that I am, I spotted the bleachers. I was already sweaty, might as well put them to good use. SO:
Afterparty!
8 x ten step up/down bleacher runs
2 x ten step jump ups
.55 mile run home.
Who knew that was going to be so evil? I severely underestimated that little WOD. However, I felt accomplished and it was nice to do something new. I will say, after Googling my times against the "averages", I came to the conclusion that I may be the slowest person on earth... but. All in due time, I suppose. First sprint wod, check!
Sunday, Day 243:
So, last night and this morning, I was feeling the fatigue in my quads. I was shocked that the sprint wod could cause that kind of evil... but it was definitely present. I stretched and rolled, but decided against Crossfitting this morning, in favor of going for my (long) run this afternoon.
That may have been the worst plan I've ever had.
This is why I should never be left to my own devices, and should have 24 hour staff. hehe
So, to me, I thought, well, my quads are a little tired from sprints, but nothing real bad, and SURELY it's all good for just a long slow run. I had 6-7 miles in my mind, at this point.
After a little more stretching, I decide to head out from a new spot, up by my Dad's house, thinking I'd get some new scenery. Again, it was a beautiful, WARM (75+) day, and a great day for a run.
I trotted out, thinking my legs would warm up a bit.
After barely crossing the half mile mark, I fell back to a walk because my legs were just all wrong. Annoyed, but thinking they still just needed to warm up, I pressed on.
... and then there was a hill.
I TRIED. Really hard. But I had to walk.
I alternated a slow trot and a walk, up that long stupid hill. I was getting frustrated with all the walking.
When I reached the top, it leveled out a bit and I thought that this would be the point where I'd be all set.
Nope.
No legs. None. They just had no gas in them. I shuffled, I pushed, I cringed.
And I walked some more.
There was no way 6-7 miles was going to happen. I cursed my body and it's lack of cooperation, as I turned for home. Thankful for the downhill, because I could handle running that, I tried not to cry. My total run would be barely over 3.5 miles. 3.65 miles, if we want to be exact. It was ugly. REAL ugly.
Why so ugly, you ask? Well, because the brain (the not logical portion of it?) kicked in. I HATE it when I can't do something that I think I should be able to. Like, complete my run today. It was like admitting defeat and admitting that my body had won. Allow me to share the heat of the moment (literally, I was dripping with sweat in the heat and walking my cool down) text to the GT:
"I don't know WTF I thought I was doing when I said I could do all this shit. I couldn't even get through 4 mi today, because of a little incline, because my legs were so effing done from the world's slowest sprints yesterday. STILL not where I should be. FML."
I felt (and am still fighting not to feel) like complete fail. I know that sounds crazy and overreacting when you read it in this context. However, there are a lot of other things that run through my head when things like this happen. For instance, as I was (trying to) running up the hill, and I was huffing and puffing and my legs weren't cooperating, I felt heavy again. FCS kicked in hardcore, reminding me quite emphatically that my weight loss has been plateauing of late. That, of COURSE, is a result of my not doing enough, or screwing up or something - or at least that's what a FCS flare-up says. My FCS flare-up went on to remind me that clearly I couldn't get up this hill because I was still too damn fat, and I was frustrated at myself for not being able to take the weight off and meet my goals. It was *clearly* holding me up from moving forward. My legs should NOT be this wrecked after one stupid sprint workout. I should have more stamina and endurance than this, I should be able to do XYZ, but I can't, and I can't do a pull up and I can't climb a rope, and I can't run the distances I want to ... and I can't and can't and can't. I've been doing all this, and I'm still nowhere and no where near where I need to be to survive these races/competitions I've signed up for and everyone's going to see what a stupid fat kid I am, and how I'm going to be the pity vote, while I drag behind all the fit people... and... and... *insert long string of negativity*.
... I'm sure many of you recognize the completely irrational downward spiral than can come from one stupid little thing. So my legs were tired today, and I couldn't run like I wanted to. But this is where my head went.
I am ever thankful that my GT was near his phone and caught that train before it had time to derail any more thoroughly.
I was calmly and concisely reminded that YES, my legs should be completely wrecked if I had done yesterday's sprints correctly. What was I doing running the day after? My body would need time to adapt and recover. Recovery was going to be part of the "difficulty" of the Sprint Wod's.
It is hard to continue down a road of ridiculousness when someone is negating every argument you have with infallible logic. No. I'd never done sprints before. Yes, I had put everything I had into them. Yes... my legs did feel real tired, and no I'm not sure why I thought it would be a good time to go for a run, other than that it fit in my schedule. Physical "recovery" time was biologically unavoidable.
*sigh*
I think the only cure for FCS is to deal with these flare-ups as they come, and gradually they will come less frequently and with less intensity. Today was particularly bad. But I was tired, hot and there was some regular-life "background noise" rolling around in my head. It happens.
I had to spend a great deal of time today reminding myself that I did not put on all the weight and get so out of shape overnight; I would not be able to suddenly turn superhuman in a matter of months, on sheer will alone. Body physiology alone says, No! You can be doing all the right things, pushing through all the right workouts, eating the best stuff.... and sometimes, you will find yourself here, BlogLand. Sometimes, it takes time for it all to come together. You have to build your muscles. You have to burn the fat. You have to acclimate your joints. It's not overnight. The 85# extra that I was carrying (over what I am now), did not get there from one cheeseburger.
So, let's redefine success today, BlogLand. To me, success is not necessarily the measurable things - pounds lost, pant sizes down, speed on the track, miles run - but the simple fact that I'm getting out there, chasing down some goals, one day at a time and not giving up. A bad day is a bad *day* and just that.
Sometimes, BlogLand, Mental Training is the hardest obstacle to overcome; not the push ups, not the running, not the consistency, but your own head. You've heard me talk about it ad nauseum before, I'm sure, but it's a big piece of my journey it seems... and thus, today's blog is dedicated to Mental Speedbumps (and navigating them).
It's been an up and down weekend.
Saturday, Day 242:
I was pretty excited about this, BlogLand. I had a new WOD challenge to try - something I've never done before: Sprints. Conveniently, I live right across the street from a highschool track and it was a balmy 70 degrees (VT in MARCH? what?!). I was totally stoked to get out and run today. First piece of awesome: I didn't have to don 300 layers to walk out the door. In fact, I am happy to report that I was in light capris and a tank top. YEAH. Woot!
So, for a Warm-Up, I jogged out my door and down and around the long way to the track, for .55 mile. Then, I walked one loop of the track to pick out the markers for my next task:
4 x 200m Sprints. What this breaks down to, on a 400m track is: sprint as hard and fast as you can for half the track, then walk half the track, then sprint half, walk half, etc. until you've done 4 sprints.
I admit, openly, my GT was right. Again (and yet, I still question him. lol). When he told me about this sprint wod, I was all like, "that's IT!?"... "That'll take me like 10 minutes?!"... at which point he informed me that it'll be harder than anything I've done, and I'll probably want to die. I laughed. (You'd think I'd learn.)
So, I set up my trusty phone-stopwatch app, toed up to my Start line, and off I went. I was blazing down that stretch, it felt like. My legs felt powerful and fast. 100 yards down... "oh, only halfway..." I thought to myself and pushed a little more for the second half of the sprint. WHEW. Glad it was over, but felt like it was pretty good, checking my time in at 40.3 seconds.
It's true, my heart was racing, and I was definitely huffing and puffing, but I had half the track to walk it off. No problemo. ... right? Half the track seemed remarkably short, but as I approached my Start line again, I felt like I had recovered pretty well (focus on breathing!), and I was ready to go again.
Set up stopwatch... Go. Great initial burst, but had to definitely push to the end, particularly, again, through that 2nd half of the sprint. It seems like my body is good to go for 100m, but 200m makes me work. Still, sliding into the finish line, I clocked in at 41.2 seconds. Sure, it wasn't as fast as the first time, but that seemed like a pretty reasonable gain. As I checked my time and concentrated on getting my breathing back under control, I realized I wasn't feeling quite as fresh as the first time around. I'd done less than 2 minutes of "work" at this point, and I was already fatigued? Could that be right?
The "walk" portion of the track definitely morphed into something much shorter this time, it seemed, and I walked slower. As I approached the start line for my 3rd go, I took a deep breath and reminded myself that I.Could.Do.This. My legs were not so sure. Hit the stopwatch and off I went.
I fought to keep up a speed. I tried to concentrate on continuing to breathe through the sprint and keep my legs moving.
Finish line: 46.1 seconds. Eww.
As I crashed through the finish line this time, though, I careened to a momentary stop for the "Iwanttodie" hands-on-knees-pose. It was brief - 5-10 seconds - but it happened. Whew. After 3 sprints? and there was one MORE? Oh my.
I walked. Slowly. My legs were REALLY dubious we were going to eek out another sprint. My lungs were exploding. CLEARLY, we had stumbled upon a new, distinct challenge.
As I approached the start line for the final time, I wasn't quite ready. I remember scoffing at the GT when he told me that the half lap might not be enough to recover. Someday, I will learn.
I walked 2 small circles (=1/2 track walk + 10-15 seconds), and then hit the watch and pushed through the Start line.
.
.
.
Longest 200m of my life. I fought, I told myself it was the last one. Reminded myself to leave it all out there, because I didn't need to do it again, that day. I could do anything for a mere 40 seconds!
.
.
I swear to you, BlogLand... That 200m felt like 400m. I crossed the Finish line on empty and ground to a halt. Hands on knees, 20 seconds. No, Self, we are not going to throw up. No. No. No. Walk it off. I walked myself a finishing lap, while nursing my water bottle a bit.
Holy shit. Less than 4 minutes of actual "work" and I was DONE. WTF!?
After another lap around the track, I felt a little more human. I found my breathing again, and my legs felt a little more solid. So, being the persistent over-achiever that I am, I spotted the bleachers. I was already sweaty, might as well put them to good use. SO:
Afterparty!
8 x ten step up/down bleacher runs
2 x ten step jump ups
.55 mile run home.
Who knew that was going to be so evil? I severely underestimated that little WOD. However, I felt accomplished and it was nice to do something new. I will say, after Googling my times against the "averages", I came to the conclusion that I may be the slowest person on earth... but. All in due time, I suppose. First sprint wod, check!
Sunday, Day 243:
So, last night and this morning, I was feeling the fatigue in my quads. I was shocked that the sprint wod could cause that kind of evil... but it was definitely present. I stretched and rolled, but decided against Crossfitting this morning, in favor of going for my (long) run this afternoon.
That may have been the worst plan I've ever had.
This is why I should never be left to my own devices, and should have 24 hour staff. hehe
So, to me, I thought, well, my quads are a little tired from sprints, but nothing real bad, and SURELY it's all good for just a long slow run. I had 6-7 miles in my mind, at this point.
After a little more stretching, I decide to head out from a new spot, up by my Dad's house, thinking I'd get some new scenery. Again, it was a beautiful, WARM (75+) day, and a great day for a run.
I trotted out, thinking my legs would warm up a bit.
After barely crossing the half mile mark, I fell back to a walk because my legs were just all wrong. Annoyed, but thinking they still just needed to warm up, I pressed on.
... and then there was a hill.
I TRIED. Really hard. But I had to walk.
I alternated a slow trot and a walk, up that long stupid hill. I was getting frustrated with all the walking.
When I reached the top, it leveled out a bit and I thought that this would be the point where I'd be all set.
Nope.
No legs. None. They just had no gas in them. I shuffled, I pushed, I cringed.
And I walked some more.
There was no way 6-7 miles was going to happen. I cursed my body and it's lack of cooperation, as I turned for home. Thankful for the downhill, because I could handle running that, I tried not to cry. My total run would be barely over 3.5 miles. 3.65 miles, if we want to be exact. It was ugly. REAL ugly.
Why so ugly, you ask? Well, because the brain (the not logical portion of it?) kicked in. I HATE it when I can't do something that I think I should be able to. Like, complete my run today. It was like admitting defeat and admitting that my body had won. Allow me to share the heat of the moment (literally, I was dripping with sweat in the heat and walking my cool down) text to the GT:
"I don't know WTF I thought I was doing when I said I could do all this shit. I couldn't even get through 4 mi today, because of a little incline, because my legs were so effing done from the world's slowest sprints yesterday. STILL not where I should be. FML."
I felt (and am still fighting not to feel) like complete fail. I know that sounds crazy and overreacting when you read it in this context. However, there are a lot of other things that run through my head when things like this happen. For instance, as I was (trying to) running up the hill, and I was huffing and puffing and my legs weren't cooperating, I felt heavy again. FCS kicked in hardcore, reminding me quite emphatically that my weight loss has been plateauing of late. That, of COURSE, is a result of my not doing enough, or screwing up or something - or at least that's what a FCS flare-up says. My FCS flare-up went on to remind me that clearly I couldn't get up this hill because I was still too damn fat, and I was frustrated at myself for not being able to take the weight off and meet my goals. It was *clearly* holding me up from moving forward. My legs should NOT be this wrecked after one stupid sprint workout. I should have more stamina and endurance than this, I should be able to do XYZ, but I can't, and I can't do a pull up and I can't climb a rope, and I can't run the distances I want to ... and I can't and can't and can't. I've been doing all this, and I'm still nowhere and no where near where I need to be to survive these races/competitions I've signed up for and everyone's going to see what a stupid fat kid I am, and how I'm going to be the pity vote, while I drag behind all the fit people... and... and... *insert long string of negativity*.
... I'm sure many of you recognize the completely irrational downward spiral than can come from one stupid little thing. So my legs were tired today, and I couldn't run like I wanted to. But this is where my head went.
I am ever thankful that my GT was near his phone and caught that train before it had time to derail any more thoroughly.
I was calmly and concisely reminded that YES, my legs should be completely wrecked if I had done yesterday's sprints correctly. What was I doing running the day after? My body would need time to adapt and recover. Recovery was going to be part of the "difficulty" of the Sprint Wod's.
It is hard to continue down a road of ridiculousness when someone is negating every argument you have with infallible logic. No. I'd never done sprints before. Yes, I had put everything I had into them. Yes... my legs did feel real tired, and no I'm not sure why I thought it would be a good time to go for a run, other than that it fit in my schedule. Physical "recovery" time was biologically unavoidable.
*sigh*
I think the only cure for FCS is to deal with these flare-ups as they come, and gradually they will come less frequently and with less intensity. Today was particularly bad. But I was tired, hot and there was some regular-life "background noise" rolling around in my head. It happens.
I had to spend a great deal of time today reminding myself that I did not put on all the weight and get so out of shape overnight; I would not be able to suddenly turn superhuman in a matter of months, on sheer will alone. Body physiology alone says, No! You can be doing all the right things, pushing through all the right workouts, eating the best stuff.... and sometimes, you will find yourself here, BlogLand. Sometimes, it takes time for it all to come together. You have to build your muscles. You have to burn the fat. You have to acclimate your joints. It's not overnight. The 85# extra that I was carrying (over what I am now), did not get there from one cheeseburger.
So, let's redefine success today, BlogLand. To me, success is not necessarily the measurable things - pounds lost, pant sizes down, speed on the track, miles run - but the simple fact that I'm getting out there, chasing down some goals, one day at a time and not giving up. A bad day is a bad *day* and just that.
"Courage doesn't always roar. Sometimes, courage is the little voice at the end of the day that says I'll try again tomorrow."
~Mary Anne Radmacher~
(I AM happy to report that I still did my next round of the Hundred Pushups program, tonight, though! WAHA!)
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