Spartan Shape-Up, Day 370 & 371:
Well, BlogLand, it was time to face the inevitable. My knee has no longer been an issue (100% Woo!), so there was no more "good" excuses for procrastinating; it was time for my return to Sprint Night. I absolutely hate this WOD, but really, truly understand the benefits that I get from it. I've seen some drastic increases in my sprint times, which have directly correlated to some majorly increased mile times in my regular runs, among other things. Therefore one must, in true Spartan fashion, just "embrace the suck."
This week's Sprint Night was going to be a little different. With the passing of my 1-Year milestone and an upcoming race in a few weeks (Spartan Sprint, Amesbury, MA!), the GT has decided to mix up the routine a bit. Now (because he clearly loves me so much), I'll be doing TWO Sprint Nights a week. One will be the regular short sprints (200m) like I have been doing (just a few more of them than usual) and one will be long sprints (400m, full track). Tonight was slated to be 400m Sprints. While I had done a test run of these before, as in I've run a 400m sprint maybe twice, I'd never done a whole WOD centered around 400m sprints. Needless to say, I was a little bit apprehensive.
As usual for Sprint Night, I woke up that morning and while getting ready for work, I was thinking about what I had to do for the day...... and thus began my dreading of that evening's Sprints. They do just really suck. However, I am lucky to say that I haven't had to sprint alone since the very first sprint WOD I did. I have had some great companions each and every night to cheer me on and get me through the major uglyness. Stacey and April were on track (pun intended. hehe) to be there on the new night to keep me going and all would be as minimally sucky as possible.
Until it started raining. And then my buddies didn't look like they were going to be able to come, last minute. Let me tell you, BlogLand. These are the moments when your resolve and commitment is really tested: Will you do what needs to be done, even if it is not what you feel like doing, when you have no one to cheer you through it? Will you be your own motivation? Is your drive and commitment to succeed, no matter what, enough to get you through that ugly workout alone? To get your sneakers on when there is no one telling you that you need to? Will you Spartan Up?
Just about the time that I had steeled up my resolve to do my long sprints no matter what, I think I was rewarded by the Cosmos; Stacey would be able to come after all AND we would have a new victim. I mean... participant. My CG would be in town, was feeling up to a challenge, and agreed to check it out. Stacey and I chuckled a little to ourselves, as we knew what to expect from those short bursts of 110% exertion...... but we weren't sure the CG knew what he had just agree to.
We began with our usual half mile jog warm-up. I had to remind myself to take it down a notch and actually warm up - not just beast through a run pace like my legs wanted to. I've found that since I had several weeks off from running, when I go out now, my legs really want to GO. None of this hold back and warm up sort of stuff. We reached the track, continued our warm up by walking around the track one time, while reviewing what each of our goals were for the day. You see, BlogLand, there is nothing more important that having a goal to chase - even if it's a tiny one. My goal was simply to complete three 400m sprints, with my best effort. I had no time expectations or anything like that... simply finish them (puking and the patented CrossFit Starfish on the ground movement would be acceptable at the end, if it came to that.).
Lining up at our starting line, I felt the apprehension flip-flop my stomach. I wasn't entirely sure I was going to be able to do these 400m sprints, I haven't been running as consistently because of that knee thing.... the cavalcade of excuses started to flood my brain. Thankfully, crazy peeps were there with me and started our countdown.
So, the first 100m was AWESOME. Totally burned off the line, legs felt strong, and I was owning my run. The next 100m was the usual "Ehhhh.... can't breath, must. keep. running."...... and then we entered the distinct outer limits of my comfort zone. As I pushed past the 200m line, my body was all like, WTF?! THIS is where we stop! .... and I had to keep running. There was about 10 seconds, as I tried desperately to propel myself down the next second straightaway that I flashed through my brain every motivational saying, thought, word, face, picture that I could possibly think of. Still, my body was unconvinced. I felt that familiar slightly nauseous feeling of my body protesting, and tried to ignore the empty feeling that was growing in my legs. I knew I was slowing, but decided I would at least keep moving and finish the lap. Rounding the last curve, my CG was there (having not died through his shorter sprints!) shouting encouragement. I think, BlogLand, sometimes that is what you need - someone outside of your own head reminding you to get after it. From somewhere, I kicked on the afterburners and fought through the last few meters, to cross the finish line. 400m complete....... and hands on knees, sucking air and wanting to just lay down and starfish on the track. I am happy to report I did not do that. It seems to me that until you are completely done, it sets a bad state of mine to have a mini "quit". I stayed standing and paced (slowly) around, reminding my body that we were going to live, while checking the time I'd clocked in at:
Lap One: 00:01:35:881
Decidedly not a great time, but I'm looking that as the baseline 400m sprint, from which I will improve. Everyone has to start somewhere.
Lap two was just a long soul-suck, where I pushed hard and tried to not die. That is my basic operating mantra for any difficult workout... "Try not to die." ("Die" being an interpretive term... meaning don't throw up, get a raging muscle spasm, pass out, starfish, etc.)
Lap Two: 00:01:44:552 Definitely gained some time on that one, but I suppose that was to be expected.
Lap three had me really concerned. My legs were feeling pretty spent (sprinting causes this "empty" feeling - not fatigue - unlike any other WOD) and I wasn't sure I could do it. Like physically, I wasn't sure if I could actually sprint another whole lap. However, the challenge was THREE laps and I knew the GT would not accept anything less than a valiant attempt. I could pass out, throw up or starfish mid-lap, if that happened... but I better have at least gotten off the starting line. These are the moments that you are thankful that you have people that will push you to your limits. It is very easy to, at this point in the workout, to let yourself stop. "Clearly" you've worked enough, pushed hard enough, it was "enough." But here's the thing, you have more. There is always a little bit more than you think, and when you push hard enough to find that, not only is it empowering (Holy crap! I can do that?!), but that is when real growth in your training occurs.
Needless to say, I did my best with Lap three. As I completed my first straightaway, I remember gasping out to Stacy and the CG as I passed, "I've got nothing left in my legs! Nothing at all!" ..... but there was 3/4 of a lap to be finished. Finding that finish line that third time was awesome, BlogLand. AWESOME. Not only did it mean that I got to stop doing this, but that I had also completed the challenge set before me.
Time was Lap Three: 00:01:51:457 Another big gain on time, but I was so happy I was able to even DO the third lap that the time gain was okay. Next time, we shoot for some more consistent times.
While I put myself through this necessary evil, it was somewhat gratifying to see my Sprint buddies hitting it hard, too. It is always nice to know that you're not suffering alone, no matter how necessary the suffering is. In honor of my transition to 400m sprints, Stacey bumped her sprints up to 200m sprints, and Hans (my CG) did some excellent 100m sprints to complete his first sprint wod. When you want to take on something as Herculean as Changing Your Life (yes, capital letters), these are the types of people that you need by your side - Spartans in Spirit and Mind, that are not afraid to disregard "limitations" and work hard.
--------------------
Sprint night had me waking up on Friday morning a little bit stiff, but not too bad, considering I haven't been doing sprints for weeks. It was Climbing Friday, though! I must admit, I'm really starting to enjoy this new hobby. It feels great to workout my upper body in a taxing way that *isn't* pull ups or push ups. Also, the successes - much like what I like about weight-lifting - are very tangible. You can say, "yes, I went two moves beyond where I did before." or "I finished that route, that I couldn't do before."
Tonight's climbing was a little more challenging for me on my lower body, as my legs were feeling a little spent from the previous night's exertions, but not enough to stop me. We didn't do quite as many climbs as we might have usually, but still made some great progress.
I was able to climb under-over this overhanging route, which had previously thwarted me before. It involved a few just massive (for me) explosions - coupled with grunts of exertion - of arm power just to reach to the hold, without being able to support myself much at all with the tree trunks I call legs. Yeaaah!! T-Rex arms are being destroyed.
I also have been working the last few weeks on a project, which I'm told should be technically described as "A overhanging jug-haul, 5.6, which ended in a desperate dead point move." What this translates to for the rest of us humans as ... Hard. Hard (for me) and at the very last move, a moment where I had to dig deep and make a leap of faith and hope that my right hand still had enough oomph in it to hang on. Luckily, it did.... just barely. Project OWNED.
Having said that, it's on to the next project, that I can't quite get through.... the foot holds are a little smaller, the hand grips not quite as comfortable...... but just another challenge to be owned.
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Today (Happy Saturday!), I'm really in Recovery mode. My quads have a massive case of DOMS (Delayed Onset Muscle Soreness) from sprints and I'm pretty ouchy. I think I'm off to drag the CG to a swimming hole of some sort for a combination ice bath/aqua therapy moment. Ohhhh yeah. That's what my life has come to.... When super cold Vermont swimming holes sound like an excellent plan. Good times!
Showing posts with label challenge. Show all posts
Showing posts with label challenge. Show all posts
Saturday, July 28, 2012
Saturday, February 25, 2012
"Some people see things as they are and say "Why." I dream things that never were and say "Why not." ~George Bernard Shaw
Spartan Shape-Up, Day 219:
Anyone that reads my blog regularly must regard me as mildly bi-polar, BlogLand. The truth is, I'm an emotional being (I'm a Cancer, ruled by the water and the moon... shout out to all my fellow crabs! woot woot!) and those emotions can change quickly... particularly when I'm stressed, or left to my own (non-existent) logical capabilities. And really, it's not that have crazy mood swings, it's just that I'm "emotionally spontaneous."
Having said that, Gold Star to anyone who made it through yesterday's post. It was all true, it was all honest and what I was feeling last night, but some how, having the light of day hit it (things are so different in the evening, don't you think?) made it seem a little less daunting.
Plus, although I was freaking out ("emotional spillage"), sometimes I just need to get it all OUT of my head, so that I can look at it more objectively. From a more rational standpoint, and from some exceedingly patient, unruffleable help (seriously, do you know that you're the unfailing Lighthouse for my Tiny Rowboat, on my giant, tumultuous, Emotional Sea, Muffin?), I managed to pick it all up today, and reevaluate. *deep breath*
I have made a lot of progress. I still have 70 days until my first major event. I have the tools at hand to be successful, I must just use them. I think I just needed a breakdown, to reinforce the fact that I needed to recommit 100%. I need to stop looking around at everyone else (and letting their accomplishments make me feel inadequate), realize that I am a lot more capable than I even really realize, STFU and get down to business. I have 70 days to get even more awesome.
In light of that positive upswing, I decided to re-tackle the 7 Min of Burpees challenge tomorrow, and hit 60. Improve upon yesterday's 58.
And because 7 minutes of Burpees is a new kind of hell:
Having said all of that, it's time to move on to the really mentally refreshing run I took this evening. I HAD A BUDDY!! (check her out over here at Immutable and Impossible )!! BlogLand, you have no idea what that does for a social creature like myself. I have "learned" to go it alone, run my own PR's into the ground, chase invisible finish lines and log the miles all by myself, under my own steam and motivation... but it is so much more pleasant when occasionally, you have some company.
It was a perfectly snow-tastic sort of evening. Big, heavy, wet snow fell pretty steadily (at times, quite heavily...), as I left my door around 6pm. It would be a quick (about .66 mile) run over to meet my buddy, and then off we'd be. I should mention that the "quick" .66 mile run also involved a hill sprint. Why? because there was a big hill. What makes things go by faster? Sprinting them. Seemed like a plan.
After a strong sprint, I died for a second at the top of the hill, located my buddy and off we went, looping through various areas of the pretty part of my city. The highlight: jogging the paths in a big cemetery, at dusk. No seriously, it was quiet, the paths were wide, and it was neat.....
To chitter-chatter while out and about really was a refreshing change. My legs felt good, I laughed, ran and laughed and ran some more.
We navigated a long, slow climb on the way home, and I decided I'm going to need to practice and conquer this hill. It's the one that had me almost puking in the crosswalk last week, remember? Oh yeah, Hill... I'm coming for you.
Finally, I found myself parting from my buddy and turning for home. Just .66 miles... I thought I should probably pick up the pace for this. After getting down the now-snow-covered big hill I had sprinted up earlier, I kicked it in gear and sprinted the flat 1/2 mile back to my house. I ran hard until my lungs felt like they might explode, and I ran some more. My tracker seems to think I hit around 7:30 min/mi. or 8 min/mi. at this point. Yeeehaww!! Can't keep that up over a distance, but sometimes, it just feels good to open up and leave it all out there on the sidewalk.
Upon returning home, I figured I better document this experience:
That is a snow-chunk in my hair, snowflakes falling, and an unplowed road in the background. AHHH yes.
Now, I must say, I have not been this soaked coming home from a run, in recent memory. Water-soaked. My hair was tripping, my top layers were drenched.... but it was a relatively warm evening, and I had FUN. I leaped over a hedge, dodged gravestones, did some hill sprints and got my ass in gear... what's not to love?
Total mileage for me tonight, about 3.5 miles. Total benefit tonight's run had on my mental status: Priceless.
With that, I leave you for SleepyLand, my Dears... We shall see what tomorrow will bring...
Anyone that reads my blog regularly must regard me as mildly bi-polar, BlogLand. The truth is, I'm an emotional being (I'm a Cancer, ruled by the water and the moon... shout out to all my fellow crabs! woot woot!) and those emotions can change quickly... particularly when I'm stressed, or left to my own (non-existent) logical capabilities. And really, it's not that have crazy mood swings, it's just that I'm "emotionally spontaneous."
Having said that, Gold Star to anyone who made it through yesterday's post. It was all true, it was all honest and what I was feeling last night, but some how, having the light of day hit it (things are so different in the evening, don't you think?) made it seem a little less daunting.
Plus, although I was freaking out ("emotional spillage"), sometimes I just need to get it all OUT of my head, so that I can look at it more objectively. From a more rational standpoint, and from some exceedingly patient, unruffleable help (seriously, do you know that you're the unfailing Lighthouse for my Tiny Rowboat, on my giant, tumultuous, Emotional Sea, Muffin?), I managed to pick it all up today, and reevaluate. *deep breath*
I have made a lot of progress. I still have 70 days until my first major event. I have the tools at hand to be successful, I must just use them. I think I just needed a breakdown, to reinforce the fact that I needed to recommit 100%. I need to stop looking around at everyone else (and letting their accomplishments make me feel inadequate), realize that I am a lot more capable than I even really realize, STFU and get down to business. I have 70 days to get even more awesome.
In light of that positive upswing, I decided to re-tackle the 7 Min of Burpees challenge tomorrow, and hit 60. Improve upon yesterday's 58.
And because 7 minutes of Burpees is a new kind of hell:
Having said all of that, it's time to move on to the really mentally refreshing run I took this evening. I HAD A BUDDY!! (check her out over here at Immutable and Impossible )!! BlogLand, you have no idea what that does for a social creature like myself. I have "learned" to go it alone, run my own PR's into the ground, chase invisible finish lines and log the miles all by myself, under my own steam and motivation... but it is so much more pleasant when occasionally, you have some company.
It was a perfectly snow-tastic sort of evening. Big, heavy, wet snow fell pretty steadily (at times, quite heavily...), as I left my door around 6pm. It would be a quick (about .66 mile) run over to meet my buddy, and then off we'd be. I should mention that the "quick" .66 mile run also involved a hill sprint. Why? because there was a big hill. What makes things go by faster? Sprinting them. Seemed like a plan.
After a strong sprint, I died for a second at the top of the hill, located my buddy and off we went, looping through various areas of the pretty part of my city. The highlight: jogging the paths in a big cemetery, at dusk. No seriously, it was quiet, the paths were wide, and it was neat.....
To chitter-chatter while out and about really was a refreshing change. My legs felt good, I laughed, ran and laughed and ran some more.
We navigated a long, slow climb on the way home, and I decided I'm going to need to practice and conquer this hill. It's the one that had me almost puking in the crosswalk last week, remember? Oh yeah, Hill... I'm coming for you.
Finally, I found myself parting from my buddy and turning for home. Just .66 miles... I thought I should probably pick up the pace for this. After getting down the now-snow-covered big hill I had sprinted up earlier, I kicked it in gear and sprinted the flat 1/2 mile back to my house. I ran hard until my lungs felt like they might explode, and I ran some more. My tracker seems to think I hit around 7:30 min/mi. or 8 min/mi. at this point. Yeeehaww!! Can't keep that up over a distance, but sometimes, it just feels good to open up and leave it all out there on the sidewalk.
Upon returning home, I figured I better document this experience:
That is a snow-chunk in my hair, snowflakes falling, and an unplowed road in the background. AHHH yes.
Now, I must say, I have not been this soaked coming home from a run, in recent memory. Water-soaked. My hair was tripping, my top layers were drenched.... but it was a relatively warm evening, and I had FUN. I leaped over a hedge, dodged gravestones, did some hill sprints and got my ass in gear... what's not to love?
Total mileage for me tonight, about 3.5 miles. Total benefit tonight's run had on my mental status: Priceless.
With that, I leave you for SleepyLand, my Dears... We shall see what tomorrow will bring...
Monday, February 13, 2012
"When you get right down to the root of the meaning of the word "succeed," you find that it simply means to follow through." ~F. W. Nichol~
Spartan Shape-Up, Day 205-207:
(Also known as The Weekend of Awesomeness)
WHEW. As much as I hate Sunday nights, Blogland, as they
indicate Monday is shortly arriving, this has been a full weekend. Day 205 (Friday) was a break of sorts... it involved me going to work really early (this is fascinating stuff, I know), then getting right in my car after work (5pm) and making a trek to Portsmouth, NH (2:45 hrs) to meet up with one of my Spartan Chicks (Hi Peyton!). I won't bore you with the phone/GPS malfunction (... just because it's plugged in, apparently doesn't mean it's charging...) and the lesson I learned about how reliant we are on our mobile devices, but nonetheless, I arrived safe and sound, if a little later than anticipated.
First, I would like to take this moment to recognize how awesome Spartan People are proving to be. Seriously. Yes, I drove to a total strangers house for a sleepover, to head to a race. No, Mom, she was not a serial killer. In fact, I was welcomed with a great dinner, fabulous conversation, an adorable furry critter (seriously. I'm stealing your dog), and more than open arms. More importantly, we talked about our "weird" hobbies - running in New England cold, learning to deal with Spandex, and race-entry anxiety - without any judgement. That, I'm learning, is hard to come by... it seems that there is a select few people that will be supportive if your hobbies go off the traditional grid. To meet people that not only respect, but advocate, your interests is invaluable. This is the second instance of this untold Spartan Hospitality... I'm sensing a trend here. :-)
My arrival was also greeted with a gift, complete with a big pink bow:
Yep, that's a BIG TIRE... with a bow. In fact, I later worked out that that is a 32# SUV tire, to be specific. Who doesn't love presents like that? Except when they get you in trouble.... More on that later.
Currently, I'm pondering names for this new workout buddy. All suggestions will be considered. :-)
After a long drive, and some great conversation, I hit the pillow hard and the next thing I knew, it was RACE MORNING!! EE!! (I don't care how big or little the races are, whenever competition is involved, I am like a kid at Christmas.)
Fueled on some Oatmeal (YUM. I think it's been 6 months since I've had oatmeal. lol) and excellent coffee, we met the rest of our race entourage and headed down to Salisbury, MA. Our destination: The Frosty Knuckle 5K.
Contrary to what the name implied, it was an unseasonably warm 38 degrees (seriously, this northern dweller had *no* idea what sort of layering to do for that. Did I need shorts?! I wondered.), and a perfectly lovely day. The race description promised a flat, scenic course, with "part" on the beach. WOO! It's been a couple solid months of training since my last 5K, and I've made some big leaps since then, so I was thinking this would be an awesome new PR. FLAT course!!! We just don't have that in VT.
.... little did I know.... *insert scary music*...
We gathered at the starting area, staring out at the beach and ocean. That's my favorite thing ever. I love the ocean so much... it was a weirdly calming way to get ready for a race. The announcer gave us the rundown and said something about "half" the race being on the beach. I raised an eyebrow ("half" is much different than "part"), but figured I'd work it out when I got there.
We got the go, and took off at a steady pace down some totally flat roads around Salisbury (seriously. I thought I was running on the "flat" in VT... not so. lol.). I felt awesome. The temperature was comfortable, there was no icy wind in my face, I was running with some awesome people (shout out to Amy & Brian!) and was ready to kick the ass of this Frosty Knuckle. After a half mile or so, my hostess, Peyton began pulling away. She's definitely significantly faster paced than I, but I found this working to my advantage; while I could not keep up with her, I found myself running just a smidge faster than was "comfortable" to keep her in my sights. I highly recommend finding a running buddy that might be slightly faster. This experience showed me that maybe I could be a little faster than I think, if I push the comfort zone... HMM. Things to ponder.
Anyway, we ran down the road and I surveyed the people around me, as the pack thinned out. There were all kinds: The crowd in the joke costumes, who dropped back quickly, the 60+ year old Asian woman in her baseball capped that went by me like I was standing still, the high school girl with her bouncy pony tail and iPod... it was an interesting cross section.
I ran. I started passing people. I internally thanked my GT for pushing me on distances, and the mountains of VT for crafting some good lungs and legs. Rawr. I was in this one to win it.
... then we turned the corner to The Beach.
Through a sandy parking lot we ran, then a flagger directed us to the beach. My legs were pumping at a good pace across the black top, and as I put one foot, then two, into the sand, I felt ALL momentum leave my body. I heard myself grunt unhappily outloud. I pressed on. I haven't been doing heavy squats for nothing. Surely these legs were good for something?
My plan became simple: surely the sand must be more compacted down near the water's edge. I struggled, but worked my way down. It may have been mildly better. A wave came in and chased me back up the beach a bit. Let's take this moment to talk about the beach, why don't we. The Beach (of Death) was not only soft and sandy (made worse by the churning up of the racers before you), but on a slight downward incline to the water (meaning you were running across the incline. Not easy.), and complemented by small rolling sand hills.
I was determined to keep running.
My feet slid into the sand, sideways down the incline, and generally found no traction. It was like running through jello. I trotted back down toward the water. Not much better. Back up toward the softer beach. I was on sheer mental Will at this point. I could feel the energy just sapping from my body. Running in sand is a new kind of evil.
I ran back down to the water's edge, and something very freeing happened. A beautiful big wave came in, and I turned my head for a moment to admire it.... completely forgetting that I was running on the wet sand at the edge of the water. I got soaked half way up my calves with freezing salt water. I heard "ohh....'s" from the other racers, who'd all been avoiding it. But really, what did I care? The footing was marginally firmer, wet shoes for a couple miles couldn't be any more uncomfortable than sand-filled shoes, and really... I was pretty sure wet feet were the least of my troubles at that point.
I would like to note that I was running in my Inov-8's, which was an excellent choice. They were super light, and didn't hold the water at all. No wet-feet friction blisters for me!
I trotted on a little more. I felt my triumphant mile time running right out of my hands. I admit... I walked for 20 seconds. Then ran some more. Struggled, fought, cursed every grain of sand... and walked for 20 more seconds. Back to running... then down to a 20 second walk.
It may have been the single most frustrating run I have ever experienced, to date.
Imagine this: You know you're trained up for this, your legs feel great and strong, you're halfway through to your best time yet, and then you just can't move forward, no matter how much you fight. Right, Left, Right, Left.... you've only moved forward inches, it seems.
NOT FUN. It was the single longest 1.75 miles of my LIFE. I was angry. I reminded myself it was out of my control, and just continued to fight on, to the best of my abilities. It didn't feel like enough at several points. Every time I walked, I felt disappointed. By hey... I don't train in sand, and that shit is HARD to run in.
As we got to the end of the beach, I saw it. The Finish Line. I needed to get through a little more sand, then I had a SUPER short sprint on some pavement, then my torture would be done. I dig deep. There was a woman in a tutu in front of me, and I was DETERMINED I was not to be beat by a tutu.
I beasted through the sand... my feet were sinking, I was sliding... but I just keep trying to move my legs faster. I hit the pavement, and without all the crazy resistance, my legs had no idea what to do. Coordination and functioning were a little out the window for a second or two... but then, I focused. Spotted the clock... AND tutu lady.
Sprint to the end was on. It was a short one, but my legs were SO happy to not be in the sand, that they rewarded me. Tutu lady prematurely threw her hands up in triumph, as she neared the line, thinking she had zipped past me..... little did she know, I had crept up on her. She almost punched me in the eye. But then again, I am told that as I ducked her flung out arm, I almost elbowed her in the gut.... But I can neither confirm nor deny that. I made it over that finish line, and felt the rush of accomplishment (and I beat you, tutu lady!). WOO!!! FINISH LINE!!
I confess, at this moment, I did assume the hands-on-knees, try not to die, reassure yourself that you don't have to throw up, posture. Running 1.75 miles on the beach, trying to keep the pace up, really had ruined my life. However, all was not lost. Race stats were:
Distance: 3.5 miles (1.75 down the beach)
Time: 42:03
Ave. Pace: 12:01
By FAR not my fastest time... but then again, I've never run down a beach before. SO... I'm considering this a success. Pushed myself in a new way, didn't die, and crossed the finish line at a pace that a year ago I would've only dreamed of (that I now consider horrifically slow).
Dear Frosty Knuckle 5K... Flat course my ass. You were a beast of a short course. OW.
I'll spare you the details of the post-race recovery, but like every good recovering racer, it involved coconut water, beer, chili and beach pizza. And coffee. OM nom nom.
This race just went to prove something for me, that really hit home as I was frustrated and angry trying to run on the beach. Most of this training and competing is a mental exercise. I had only my own limitations to beat. So what if my legs were burning? The answer, always push harder. Who knows what you're capable of, unless you try?
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Home to VT greeted me with a cold snap... Today (Sunday) was supposed to be my Long Run day at 7.5 miles. We had a windchill advisory for double-digit negative temps, advising everyone to stay inside. Running was probably not the best choice.
HOWEVER. I had a new 32# tire, and a real creative GT on the line. New WOD for the day, on the fly. And I quote:
GT: 50 Overhead Squats then keep it overhead until I text you.
Me: LOL... with my tire?!
GT: Yep
Me: Okay... should I text you when I'm done my 50 squats then?
GT: Nope, just hang out with it over head until I text. Might want to do it in front of tv....3.2.1. GO.
Seemed simple enough. I pressed the tire up overhead, compensating for the wobble (Lesson of the day: Hold tire evenly to prevent forward-back wobble), and confronted my arch nemesis: the Overhead Squat. You see, those of us with arms of the t-rex variety, struggle with this a little more than the norm.... but hey, it was only 32#, right? No problemo.
I finished my squats with only a slight pause at halfway to readjust my grip on the tire. So far, so good. I hadn't dropped it on my head, and I was still feeling good to go. I moved onto the second part of the WOD.... keep it over head. Again, seemed simple enough. I stood there with my tire-halo looming. I paced around my living room, trying to distract myself from the burning in my shoulders. I thought of my CrossFit training... "engage your shoulders". They were on fire, in response.
I breathed and paced. Ow, ow OW.
WTF was the GT with the stop-text??
I briefly thought it might be a good idea to sit on the couch with a tire over head. Not so. You're much more unstable, causing more muscle-compensations for the non-balanced tire.
I stood back up and caught my reflection in my giant picture windows... Yep, I was just chilling, holding a tire over my head. I laughed, and my back muscles began to pump acid. Eh, it was all good. I could handle it.
Another few minutes went by... I wondered if the GT had forgotten me. I had to bring the tire down to my chest, for a wee break. I decided letting it touch the floor wasn't acceptable, but my t-rex arms had to have a rest.
Completed a good-form push press and it was back up. I stood.
It was at this point that I had an interesting thought. My arms and back were burning like hell and beginning to quiver... at which point I realized that I have lost almost the equivalent of 3 of these tires. I am not longer carrying that weight around. Now I hold it over my head for "fun"... really gives a new meaning to having a "spare tire..."
I had to lower my tire again for a second. This was starting to get to the mental-push stage.
Push press to overhead tire hold... stand. burn. quiver. Grit teeth.
*BLOOP*
I have never been so excited to hear a text message come in, in all my life.
After reviewing the WOD with the GT, I laughed out loud (for realz... not just an LOL), when I read this part:
GT: I briefly thought maybe I shouldn't let it go on for 22 minutes...
LOL. People wonder why I've made so many great strides in the last year or so... it's from things like this. Just people believing that you can, or challenging you to see just how far you can go. He could've stopped me at 10 minutes.... but, how much of a challenge would that have been? What would I have learned? It was in the last 2 minutes that I found my "fight"... as I thought about my weight loss journey, and how much harder THAT was, than the burning in my shoulders. Would I have gotten to that place of reflection, if 10 minutes had been "good enough"?
With that, I think I'll take my leave. My brain is tired, my upper body is beginning to feel the fun it had with today's tire, and tomorrow's back to the grind...
Whew. What a weekend. Can we do that again??
(Also known as The Weekend of Awesomeness)
WHEW. As much as I hate Sunday nights, Blogland, as they
indicate Monday is shortly arriving, this has been a full weekend. Day 205 (Friday) was a break of sorts... it involved me going to work really early (this is fascinating stuff, I know), then getting right in my car after work (5pm) and making a trek to Portsmouth, NH (2:45 hrs) to meet up with one of my Spartan Chicks (Hi Peyton!). I won't bore you with the phone/GPS malfunction (... just because it's plugged in, apparently doesn't mean it's charging...) and the lesson I learned about how reliant we are on our mobile devices, but nonetheless, I arrived safe and sound, if a little later than anticipated.
 |
| Me and Ellie, part of the welcome committee! |
My arrival was also greeted with a gift, complete with a big pink bow:
Currently, I'm pondering names for this new workout buddy. All suggestions will be considered. :-)
After a long drive, and some great conversation, I hit the pillow hard and the next thing I knew, it was RACE MORNING!! EE!! (I don't care how big or little the races are, whenever competition is involved, I am like a kid at Christmas.)
Fueled on some Oatmeal (YUM. I think it's been 6 months since I've had oatmeal. lol) and excellent coffee, we met the rest of our race entourage and headed down to Salisbury, MA. Our destination: The Frosty Knuckle 5K.
Contrary to what the name implied, it was an unseasonably warm 38 degrees (seriously, this northern dweller had *no* idea what sort of layering to do for that. Did I need shorts?! I wondered.), and a perfectly lovely day. The race description promised a flat, scenic course, with "part" on the beach. WOO! It's been a couple solid months of training since my last 5K, and I've made some big leaps since then, so I was thinking this would be an awesome new PR. FLAT course!!! We just don't have that in VT.
.... little did I know.... *insert scary music*...
We gathered at the starting area, staring out at the beach and ocean. That's my favorite thing ever. I love the ocean so much... it was a weirdly calming way to get ready for a race. The announcer gave us the rundown and said something about "half" the race being on the beach. I raised an eyebrow ("half" is much different than "part"), but figured I'd work it out when I got there.
We got the go, and took off at a steady pace down some totally flat roads around Salisbury (seriously. I thought I was running on the "flat" in VT... not so. lol.). I felt awesome. The temperature was comfortable, there was no icy wind in my face, I was running with some awesome people (shout out to Amy & Brian!) and was ready to kick the ass of this Frosty Knuckle. After a half mile or so, my hostess, Peyton began pulling away. She's definitely significantly faster paced than I, but I found this working to my advantage; while I could not keep up with her, I found myself running just a smidge faster than was "comfortable" to keep her in my sights. I highly recommend finding a running buddy that might be slightly faster. This experience showed me that maybe I could be a little faster than I think, if I push the comfort zone... HMM. Things to ponder.
Anyway, we ran down the road and I surveyed the people around me, as the pack thinned out. There were all kinds: The crowd in the joke costumes, who dropped back quickly, the 60+ year old Asian woman in her baseball capped that went by me like I was standing still, the high school girl with her bouncy pony tail and iPod... it was an interesting cross section.
I ran. I started passing people. I internally thanked my GT for pushing me on distances, and the mountains of VT for crafting some good lungs and legs. Rawr. I was in this one to win it.
... then we turned the corner to The Beach.
Through a sandy parking lot we ran, then a flagger directed us to the beach. My legs were pumping at a good pace across the black top, and as I put one foot, then two, into the sand, I felt ALL momentum leave my body. I heard myself grunt unhappily outloud. I pressed on. I haven't been doing heavy squats for nothing. Surely these legs were good for something?
My plan became simple: surely the sand must be more compacted down near the water's edge. I struggled, but worked my way down. It may have been mildly better. A wave came in and chased me back up the beach a bit. Let's take this moment to talk about the beach, why don't we. The Beach (of Death) was not only soft and sandy (made worse by the churning up of the racers before you), but on a slight downward incline to the water (meaning you were running across the incline. Not easy.), and complemented by small rolling sand hills.
I was determined to keep running.
My feet slid into the sand, sideways down the incline, and generally found no traction. It was like running through jello. I trotted back down toward the water. Not much better. Back up toward the softer beach. I was on sheer mental Will at this point. I could feel the energy just sapping from my body. Running in sand is a new kind of evil.
I ran back down to the water's edge, and something very freeing happened. A beautiful big wave came in, and I turned my head for a moment to admire it.... completely forgetting that I was running on the wet sand at the edge of the water. I got soaked half way up my calves with freezing salt water. I heard "ohh....'s" from the other racers, who'd all been avoiding it. But really, what did I care? The footing was marginally firmer, wet shoes for a couple miles couldn't be any more uncomfortable than sand-filled shoes, and really... I was pretty sure wet feet were the least of my troubles at that point.
I would like to note that I was running in my Inov-8's, which was an excellent choice. They were super light, and didn't hold the water at all. No wet-feet friction blisters for me!
I trotted on a little more. I felt my triumphant mile time running right out of my hands. I admit... I walked for 20 seconds. Then ran some more. Struggled, fought, cursed every grain of sand... and walked for 20 more seconds. Back to running... then down to a 20 second walk.
It may have been the single most frustrating run I have ever experienced, to date.
Imagine this: You know you're trained up for this, your legs feel great and strong, you're halfway through to your best time yet, and then you just can't move forward, no matter how much you fight. Right, Left, Right, Left.... you've only moved forward inches, it seems.
NOT FUN. It was the single longest 1.75 miles of my LIFE. I was angry. I reminded myself it was out of my control, and just continued to fight on, to the best of my abilities. It didn't feel like enough at several points. Every time I walked, I felt disappointed. By hey... I don't train in sand, and that shit is HARD to run in.
As we got to the end of the beach, I saw it. The Finish Line. I needed to get through a little more sand, then I had a SUPER short sprint on some pavement, then my torture would be done. I dig deep. There was a woman in a tutu in front of me, and I was DETERMINED I was not to be beat by a tutu.
I beasted through the sand... my feet were sinking, I was sliding... but I just keep trying to move my legs faster. I hit the pavement, and without all the crazy resistance, my legs had no idea what to do. Coordination and functioning were a little out the window for a second or two... but then, I focused. Spotted the clock... AND tutu lady.
Sprint to the end was on. It was a short one, but my legs were SO happy to not be in the sand, that they rewarded me. Tutu lady prematurely threw her hands up in triumph, as she neared the line, thinking she had zipped past me..... little did she know, I had crept up on her. She almost punched me in the eye. But then again, I am told that as I ducked her flung out arm, I almost elbowed her in the gut.... But I can neither confirm nor deny that. I made it over that finish line, and felt the rush of accomplishment (and I beat you, tutu lady!). WOO!!! FINISH LINE!!
I confess, at this moment, I did assume the hands-on-knees, try not to die, reassure yourself that you don't have to throw up, posture. Running 1.75 miles on the beach, trying to keep the pace up, really had ruined my life. However, all was not lost. Race stats were:
Distance: 3.5 miles (1.75 down the beach)
Time: 42:03
Ave. Pace: 12:01
By FAR not my fastest time... but then again, I've never run down a beach before. SO... I'm considering this a success. Pushed myself in a new way, didn't die, and crossed the finish line at a pace that a year ago I would've only dreamed of (that I now consider horrifically slow).
Dear Frosty Knuckle 5K... Flat course my ass. You were a beast of a short course. OW.
I'll spare you the details of the post-race recovery, but like every good recovering racer, it involved coconut water, beer, chili and beach pizza. And coffee. OM nom nom.
This race just went to prove something for me, that really hit home as I was frustrated and angry trying to run on the beach. Most of this training and competing is a mental exercise. I had only my own limitations to beat. So what if my legs were burning? The answer, always push harder. Who knows what you're capable of, unless you try?
 |
| L-R: Amy, Peyton and I, Beach-Hell survivors with free t-shirt swag! (It has a snowflake in beer bottles, on the back. lol!) |
Home to VT greeted me with a cold snap... Today (Sunday) was supposed to be my Long Run day at 7.5 miles. We had a windchill advisory for double-digit negative temps, advising everyone to stay inside. Running was probably not the best choice.
HOWEVER. I had a new 32# tire, and a real creative GT on the line. New WOD for the day, on the fly. And I quote:
GT: 50 Overhead Squats then keep it overhead until I text you.
Me: LOL... with my tire?!
GT: Yep
Me: Okay... should I text you when I'm done my 50 squats then?
GT: Nope, just hang out with it over head until I text. Might want to do it in front of tv....3.2.1. GO.
Seemed simple enough. I pressed the tire up overhead, compensating for the wobble (Lesson of the day: Hold tire evenly to prevent forward-back wobble), and confronted my arch nemesis: the Overhead Squat. You see, those of us with arms of the t-rex variety, struggle with this a little more than the norm.... but hey, it was only 32#, right? No problemo.
I finished my squats with only a slight pause at halfway to readjust my grip on the tire. So far, so good. I hadn't dropped it on my head, and I was still feeling good to go. I moved onto the second part of the WOD.... keep it over head. Again, seemed simple enough. I stood there with my tire-halo looming. I paced around my living room, trying to distract myself from the burning in my shoulders. I thought of my CrossFit training... "engage your shoulders". They were on fire, in response.
I breathed and paced. Ow, ow OW.
WTF was the GT with the stop-text??
I briefly thought it might be a good idea to sit on the couch with a tire over head. Not so. You're much more unstable, causing more muscle-compensations for the non-balanced tire.
I stood back up and caught my reflection in my giant picture windows... Yep, I was just chilling, holding a tire over my head. I laughed, and my back muscles began to pump acid. Eh, it was all good. I could handle it.
Another few minutes went by... I wondered if the GT had forgotten me. I had to bring the tire down to my chest, for a wee break. I decided letting it touch the floor wasn't acceptable, but my t-rex arms had to have a rest.
Completed a good-form push press and it was back up. I stood.
It was at this point that I had an interesting thought. My arms and back were burning like hell and beginning to quiver... at which point I realized that I have lost almost the equivalent of 3 of these tires. I am not longer carrying that weight around. Now I hold it over my head for "fun"... really gives a new meaning to having a "spare tire..."
I had to lower my tire again for a second. This was starting to get to the mental-push stage.
Push press to overhead tire hold... stand. burn. quiver. Grit teeth.
*BLOOP*
I have never been so excited to hear a text message come in, in all my life.
After reviewing the WOD with the GT, I laughed out loud (for realz... not just an LOL), when I read this part:
GT: I briefly thought maybe I shouldn't let it go on for 22 minutes...
LOL. People wonder why I've made so many great strides in the last year or so... it's from things like this. Just people believing that you can, or challenging you to see just how far you can go. He could've stopped me at 10 minutes.... but, how much of a challenge would that have been? What would I have learned? It was in the last 2 minutes that I found my "fight"... as I thought about my weight loss journey, and how much harder THAT was, than the burning in my shoulders. Would I have gotten to that place of reflection, if 10 minutes had been "good enough"?
With that, I think I'll take my leave. My brain is tired, my upper body is beginning to feel the fun it had with today's tire, and tomorrow's back to the grind...
Whew. What a weekend. Can we do that again??
Friday, January 20, 2012
"A falling drop at last will carve a stone."~ Lucretius
Spartan Shape-Up, Day 183:
OH, BLOGLAND. It's been a rough one. Yes, I know, I've been absent. I have no stellar excuse.
Monday, I was out of commission for medical reasons (apparently, I have some sort of virus in my inner ear that pretty much needs to resolve itself... but for the 2 weeks or so until it does, I'm going to continue to experience random bouts of room-spinning vertigo... awesome.).... but Tuesday and Wednesday I have absolutely no good explanation for, other than it was "cold" and my bed was "warm" and my life was a little more chaotic than usual.
It is what it is, though, and maybe some part of me needed the sleep. I tell you, BlogLand, I SLEPT. I think between some unusual stress going on, and workouts and stuff, I think my body might've just been a little tapped out.
Having said that, I'm still struggling a bit to get back on track. Winter in the Northeast (ie., grey, cold.) really takes its toll on me. This year has been better than most, thanks to the consistent exercise and solid goals to chase down... but, I admit, my mood really tanks in the Winter. I get frustrated much more easily and my emotions are a little less sunny. I am working 2x as hard to keep my head in the right place, in the winter, much less the physical things.
This morning, my alarm went off at 7:30am. That is NOT terribly early, in the scheme of things (considering I regularly hit CrossFit for a class that STARTS at 6:45 am). However, I rolled over grabbed my phone to shut the alarm off, and saw that the temp was -3 outside. Immediately, I vetoed the run (not sure that was a "bad" decision, really... negative temps seem excessive), but I should've gotten up and busted out a WOD at that point and gotten it done. Intellectually, I know that my day feels better, I feel better and everything is all around BETTER, if I just get up and do it. However, at that moment in which the decision was made, I was feeling tired, my bed was warm, it was still dark/grey out and a wee whisper from Old Me said, "stay in bed....". And I did.
And all day long, at work, I kicked myself for listening. I KNEW I needed to get back into the swing of things, and if I don't do it in the morning, then that means I have to get a WOD done after I get home from work (7:30pm...), which can get a little rough, when life kicks in and you have to get other things done.
Regardless, on my way home, I thought about running... but it is legitimately a skating rink of ice on all the sidewalks around here right now. Attempting to run, on principle, is not worth the potential injury. SO... what to do instead. An inside WOD, in my living room, was going to have to be the decision.
Getting home, I struggled to put together something... I turn into a raving crazy when there's too much going on in my head, and tonight, I was a hurricane of stress and emotions and thoughts, and... yeah. It was just a mess. So I put together a "simple" yet real taxing workout... I needed to sweat some of this out.
Tonight's Homebrew WOD looked like this:
15 T-handle Swings (30#)
15 Push Ups
15 Pull Ups
15 Burpees
..... Repeat as Necessary, until brain or body gives out.
T-handle swings were the easy part (OOHH, have I mentioned that I desperately want THIS?). I'm definitely going to need to pile some more weight on there next time. 30#, while gave me a good workout, as I was able to swing it faster, was not heavy enough to be as taxing (at least for this wod) as it should've been.
Push ups were on my knees. I was actively trying to keep my elbows next to my sides for a "good" push up... but... yeah. Not experiencing a lot of success on that one. Eventually defaulted to typical wide-stance arm pushups.
Pull Ups... Yeah, also still a work in progress. I did those with a stool under me, with just my toes on the stool (you can't give yourself a whole lot of leverage that way), or sometimes with just one foot. I was mostly concentrating on the "negative", as in slowly lowering myself down from the bar.
Oh Burpees. They're Burpees... I have a blister on each toe from doing them barefoot on the carpet. Oops. Lesson learned.
Having said that, I plowed through 7 rounds, at a good pace.
I wanted to go for 8, just because, but I recognized that my form was going to start to suffer, etc. and I was all set for tonight.
I don't think that WOD had the effect that I intended though... I was pretty ugly when I finished it. More frustrated than anything. I still can't do a push up well (elbows in, etc.), or off my knees. I still can't bust out ONE pull up. I STILL need to take a short breathing break to get through 30 burpees.
I felt pretty discouraged BlogLand. I know it was just today, in a lot of ways, because of a lot of emotions and such in my head... but I had a little meltdown, because this all felt a little bit futile for a while. Like, 183 days of this, and I still can't do a good push up? Not even ONE pull up? I can't get through a set of 30 burpees??? What the EFF am I doing thinking about doing a Spartan Race in May?
My brain just feels like we've been faithfully plugging away at this for quite a while now, and my body should get on board a little bit more. Why are push ups still sucky? WHY can't I master sets of 30 burpees, even though I do them all the damn time? Today my brain went bad with these thoughts. I saw old me in the mirror and perseverated on the still unchanged parts of me. I was angry at my body. I felt like it's never going to come together. I didn't feel good enough. I felt like my goals were perhaps too lofty. I felt stupid for pushing like this for so long and STILL being unable to achieve some of these simple things.
I felt lost. Angry, tired, sad, sweaty, fat, ugly, exasperated, and 400 other things.
I didn't feel strong. At all.
Usually, I have some capacity to at least feel strong. There are many things I can not yet do (run 10 miles, or do a bunch of pull ups), but usually I internally feel strong, knowing that my forte is in other areas (back squats, for example.).... But today, I struggled to grasp onto that thread, even. Being face down on your ugly brown carpet, in your big empty living room, arms wondering how they're going to push your giant body off the floor, is not the place you want to be to start having these discussions with yourself.
So, it goes without saying, BlogLand, that tonight was not one of my best. However, I am holding myself accountable, peeling myself off the floor and continuing to move forward. I ate pretty well today, I downed my fish oil (uuugh), and at least DID the WOD (didn't skip it!), so those are all positives. Every day can't be wonderful, I suppose.
Some days, though, are just a little more draining than others. Today. Ugh.
However, I have some good, mind-refreshing plans for this weekend. On Saturday, I'm headed off to meet a few new Spartan Chick friends for a Snowshoe/hike/other sort of gathering... It will be nice to put some faces to names, and spend an afternoon with some like-minded ladies. I think one of the things that I struggle the most with is staying on the path to chase my own goals, when I always have to go it alone, where I live.
With that, I'm taking deep breath and reminding myself that there is tomorrow. I reminded myself of all the personal reasons WHY I'm doing this, WHERE I want to get to and WHAT I'm committed to doing. It feels a little daunting right now... but I'm thinking a solid sleep and a good breakfast may help with that.
Off I go. Remember BlogLand.... It's not wrong to have a bad day... Just remember to pick yourself up, dust yourself off, learn something, and make the next day a little bit better.
OH, BLOGLAND. It's been a rough one. Yes, I know, I've been absent. I have no stellar excuse.
Monday, I was out of commission for medical reasons (apparently, I have some sort of virus in my inner ear that pretty much needs to resolve itself... but for the 2 weeks or so until it does, I'm going to continue to experience random bouts of room-spinning vertigo... awesome.).... but Tuesday and Wednesday I have absolutely no good explanation for, other than it was "cold" and my bed was "warm" and my life was a little more chaotic than usual.
It is what it is, though, and maybe some part of me needed the sleep. I tell you, BlogLand, I SLEPT. I think between some unusual stress going on, and workouts and stuff, I think my body might've just been a little tapped out.
Having said that, I'm still struggling a bit to get back on track. Winter in the Northeast (ie., grey, cold.) really takes its toll on me. This year has been better than most, thanks to the consistent exercise and solid goals to chase down... but, I admit, my mood really tanks in the Winter. I get frustrated much more easily and my emotions are a little less sunny. I am working 2x as hard to keep my head in the right place, in the winter, much less the physical things.
This morning, my alarm went off at 7:30am. That is NOT terribly early, in the scheme of things (considering I regularly hit CrossFit for a class that STARTS at 6:45 am). However, I rolled over grabbed my phone to shut the alarm off, and saw that the temp was -3 outside. Immediately, I vetoed the run (not sure that was a "bad" decision, really... negative temps seem excessive), but I should've gotten up and busted out a WOD at that point and gotten it done. Intellectually, I know that my day feels better, I feel better and everything is all around BETTER, if I just get up and do it. However, at that moment in which the decision was made, I was feeling tired, my bed was warm, it was still dark/grey out and a wee whisper from Old Me said, "stay in bed....". And I did.
And all day long, at work, I kicked myself for listening. I KNEW I needed to get back into the swing of things, and if I don't do it in the morning, then that means I have to get a WOD done after I get home from work (7:30pm...), which can get a little rough, when life kicks in and you have to get other things done.
Regardless, on my way home, I thought about running... but it is legitimately a skating rink of ice on all the sidewalks around here right now. Attempting to run, on principle, is not worth the potential injury. SO... what to do instead. An inside WOD, in my living room, was going to have to be the decision.
Getting home, I struggled to put together something... I turn into a raving crazy when there's too much going on in my head, and tonight, I was a hurricane of stress and emotions and thoughts, and... yeah. It was just a mess. So I put together a "simple" yet real taxing workout... I needed to sweat some of this out.
Tonight's Homebrew WOD looked like this:
15 T-handle Swings (30#)
15 Push Ups
15 Pull Ups
15 Burpees
..... Repeat as Necessary, until brain or body gives out.
T-handle swings were the easy part (OOHH, have I mentioned that I desperately want THIS?). I'm definitely going to need to pile some more weight on there next time. 30#, while gave me a good workout, as I was able to swing it faster, was not heavy enough to be as taxing (at least for this wod) as it should've been.
Push ups were on my knees. I was actively trying to keep my elbows next to my sides for a "good" push up... but... yeah. Not experiencing a lot of success on that one. Eventually defaulted to typical wide-stance arm pushups.
Pull Ups... Yeah, also still a work in progress. I did those with a stool under me, with just my toes on the stool (you can't give yourself a whole lot of leverage that way), or sometimes with just one foot. I was mostly concentrating on the "negative", as in slowly lowering myself down from the bar.
Oh Burpees. They're Burpees... I have a blister on each toe from doing them barefoot on the carpet. Oops. Lesson learned.
Having said that, I plowed through 7 rounds, at a good pace.
I wanted to go for 8, just because, but I recognized that my form was going to start to suffer, etc. and I was all set for tonight.
I don't think that WOD had the effect that I intended though... I was pretty ugly when I finished it. More frustrated than anything. I still can't do a push up well (elbows in, etc.), or off my knees. I still can't bust out ONE pull up. I STILL need to take a short breathing break to get through 30 burpees.
I felt pretty discouraged BlogLand. I know it was just today, in a lot of ways, because of a lot of emotions and such in my head... but I had a little meltdown, because this all felt a little bit futile for a while. Like, 183 days of this, and I still can't do a good push up? Not even ONE pull up? I can't get through a set of 30 burpees??? What the EFF am I doing thinking about doing a Spartan Race in May?
My brain just feels like we've been faithfully plugging away at this for quite a while now, and my body should get on board a little bit more. Why are push ups still sucky? WHY can't I master sets of 30 burpees, even though I do them all the damn time? Today my brain went bad with these thoughts. I saw old me in the mirror and perseverated on the still unchanged parts of me. I was angry at my body. I felt like it's never going to come together. I didn't feel good enough. I felt like my goals were perhaps too lofty. I felt stupid for pushing like this for so long and STILL being unable to achieve some of these simple things.
I felt lost. Angry, tired, sad, sweaty, fat, ugly, exasperated, and 400 other things.
I didn't feel strong. At all.
Usually, I have some capacity to at least feel strong. There are many things I can not yet do (run 10 miles, or do a bunch of pull ups), but usually I internally feel strong, knowing that my forte is in other areas (back squats, for example.).... But today, I struggled to grasp onto that thread, even. Being face down on your ugly brown carpet, in your big empty living room, arms wondering how they're going to push your giant body off the floor, is not the place you want to be to start having these discussions with yourself.
So, it goes without saying, BlogLand, that tonight was not one of my best. However, I am holding myself accountable, peeling myself off the floor and continuing to move forward. I ate pretty well today, I downed my fish oil (uuugh), and at least DID the WOD (didn't skip it!), so those are all positives. Every day can't be wonderful, I suppose.
Some days, though, are just a little more draining than others. Today. Ugh.
However, I have some good, mind-refreshing plans for this weekend. On Saturday, I'm headed off to meet a few new Spartan Chick friends for a Snowshoe/hike/other sort of gathering... It will be nice to put some faces to names, and spend an afternoon with some like-minded ladies. I think one of the things that I struggle the most with is staying on the path to chase my own goals, when I always have to go it alone, where I live.
With that, I'm taking deep breath and reminding myself that there is tomorrow. I reminded myself of all the personal reasons WHY I'm doing this, WHERE I want to get to and WHAT I'm committed to doing. It feels a little daunting right now... but I'm thinking a solid sleep and a good breakfast may help with that.
Off I go. Remember BlogLand.... It's not wrong to have a bad day... Just remember to pick yourself up, dust yourself off, learn something, and make the next day a little bit better.
Sunday, January 15, 2012
“I hated every minute of training, but I said, ''Don't quit. Suffer now and live the rest of your life as a champion.''” Muhammad Ali
Spartan Shape-Up, Day 179:
WELL. It was a Challenge Day today, BlogLand.
The Challenge: 1/2 Mile of Lunges.
That seems so simple, doesn't it? YEAH. Let's set the scene:
It was 4 degrees at noon today, in Vermont. That's before the windchill (which was BRUTAL). It snowed over the last few days, so there is 4-5 inches of snow on the ground. However, looking out the window, it seemed to be a *beautiful* sunny day. Being an (almost) native Vermonter, though, I know these looks can be deceiving, and I pondered just how many layers I'd need.
I should preface this by saying that I did.not.want. to do lunges today. It is reeeealllly hard to build up steam to spend an extended period of time outside, in arctic weather, performing a specific exercise for an unusual amount of time, knowing that -most likely- I was going to wake up tomorrow feeling stiff and sore.
HOWEVER. I had been issued a challenge (thanks to my GT and co-conspirator Paul. I'm glaring at you both.). Being a competitive sort, and knowing that physically I could probably handle this no problem, there was no way I was going to drop out now, because it was "cold". I wanted to, though. REALLY bad.
I must say though, I had some big external motivators... sort of jokingly, I created a public event on FB about doing the lunge-stravaganza today, and it sort of blew up. LOTS of people were doing it, too... many of them right then, at noon today. My Spartan's had really saddled up and were ready to take on this ridiculous 1/2 mile of lunges, just because I had mentioned it... I would be hugely guilty if I backed out of my OWN challenge. Time to STFU and get my ass in gear.
With some (Much needed! Thank you!) texts from one of my Spartan Chicks, Jessica, who was also suiting up to lunge in the arctic temps in New England, I began donning layers.
Here's what I ended up with, for reference:
- super thin silk base-layer top
- Under Armour Cold Gear tights
- Moving Comfort moisture-wicking top (with hand covers!Yay!)
- Wind pants (sort of)
- Heavy wool socks (warm & dry is essential)
- Turtle fur neck/face gator
- Superduty Spartan Race Sweatshirt (seriously, it's bulletproof)
- Thinsulate mittens
Yeah, THAT is how cold it was. *shiver*
So, off I went, expecting to tackle the high school track that is directly across the street from my house. Only, the revolving gate thing was frozen-shut, and I'm not particularly well-versed in climbing chain-link. Plus, what if I got IN, but after all those lunges, couldn't get my butt back out (really, picture that: Me, in my eskimo gear, stuck halfway up a chain link fence.)? Yeah, no thanks. Plan B! Yes, I briefly thought about heading home, since it was -right there- and oh well, I couldn't do lunges around the track.... But then I got a update text from Jess, and a few other notes from people who'd already begun their lunges, and I trudged on to my alternate location, about 3/4 mile away.
All things considered, the little walk to my new spot was probably good - allowed me to warm up the muscles a little bit, before I put them to work. In no time, I found myself at the Recreation Path, where my running progress first started. Here's what it looked like, today:
WELL. It was a Challenge Day today, BlogLand.
The Challenge: 1/2 Mile of Lunges.
That seems so simple, doesn't it? YEAH. Let's set the scene:
It was 4 degrees at noon today, in Vermont. That's before the windchill (which was BRUTAL). It snowed over the last few days, so there is 4-5 inches of snow on the ground. However, looking out the window, it seemed to be a *beautiful* sunny day. Being an (almost) native Vermonter, though, I know these looks can be deceiving, and I pondered just how many layers I'd need.
I should preface this by saying that I did.not.want. to do lunges today. It is reeeealllly hard to build up steam to spend an extended period of time outside, in arctic weather, performing a specific exercise for an unusual amount of time, knowing that -most likely- I was going to wake up tomorrow feeling stiff and sore.
HOWEVER. I had been issued a challenge (thanks to my GT and co-conspirator Paul. I'm glaring at you both.). Being a competitive sort, and knowing that physically I could probably handle this no problem, there was no way I was going to drop out now, because it was "cold". I wanted to, though. REALLY bad.
I must say though, I had some big external motivators... sort of jokingly, I created a public event on FB about doing the lunge-stravaganza today, and it sort of blew up. LOTS of people were doing it, too... many of them right then, at noon today. My Spartan's had really saddled up and were ready to take on this ridiculous 1/2 mile of lunges, just because I had mentioned it... I would be hugely guilty if I backed out of my OWN challenge. Time to STFU and get my ass in gear.
With some (Much needed! Thank you!) texts from one of my Spartan Chicks, Jessica, who was also suiting up to lunge in the arctic temps in New England, I began donning layers.
Here's what I ended up with, for reference:
- super thin silk base-layer top
- Under Armour Cold Gear tights
- Moving Comfort moisture-wicking top (with hand covers!Yay!)
- Wind pants (sort of)
- Heavy wool socks (warm & dry is essential)
- Turtle fur neck/face gator
- Superduty Spartan Race Sweatshirt (seriously, it's bulletproof)
- Thinsulate mittens
Yeah, THAT is how cold it was. *shiver*
So, off I went, expecting to tackle the high school track that is directly across the street from my house. Only, the revolving gate thing was frozen-shut, and I'm not particularly well-versed in climbing chain-link. Plus, what if I got IN, but after all those lunges, couldn't get my butt back out (really, picture that: Me, in my eskimo gear, stuck halfway up a chain link fence.)? Yeah, no thanks. Plan B! Yes, I briefly thought about heading home, since it was -right there- and oh well, I couldn't do lunges around the track.... But then I got a update text from Jess, and a few other notes from people who'd already begun their lunges, and I trudged on to my alternate location, about 3/4 mile away.
All things considered, the little walk to my new spot was probably good - allowed me to warm up the muscles a little bit, before I put them to work. In no time, I found myself at the Recreation Path, where my running progress first started. Here's what it looked like, today:
What you're looking at there is 4-5 inches of semi-packed snow. That definitely made things a little interesting. But off I went, looking like this (I laughed and thought of myself as the Lunge Ninja):
C'mon, you know I look like some sort of weird ninja there. Admit it. hehehe...
As the arctic wind gusted, off I went... it's JUST a 1/2 mile, right?? .... 1 lunge, 2 lunge, 3 lunge...... I was taking particular care to pay attention to my form (knee not in front of toe, straight up/down, etc.) as my knee has been a bit weird and over this distance, I figured, odds were I could really tweak something.
.... 75....76...77..... Okay, it was less cold than I thought. Mittens, off.
...98 ... 99... 100.... Whew. Okay. I must really be getting somewhere! *checks GPS*... WHAT?! *sigh*...
... 148...149...150. *checks GPS* 150 lunges, for me, equals .10 miles. Oh my. I did some quick math in my head, my soul died a little bit, and I texted Paul to let him know that I hated him for supplying the GT with this grand scheme. He yelled at me to stop counting. haha
On I pressed. Let me tell you, when you're working, it really does make the "brisk" temperatures feel much less brisk. I think I could've actually done without the first silk base layer and been okay. The hood had also come off at this point (making me look less like a serial killer) and I think I had begun to actually break a bit of a sweat.
298...299...300! YES! HALFWAY. Oh my god. What? I re-checked the GPS. Three hundred lunges was only halfway. Oh My.
Although, I must say, my mind had started to quiet at this point and just focus on the business at hand. Stand. Step. Down, UP. Stand. Step. Down, UP.
Just past this point, some people came walking their dog down the path toward me. At this point it was single-lane and I didn't want to screw up my distance, so I stopped and stepped off the path to let them go by. Talk about getting a weird look. It's almost as if they'd never seen a sweaty chick, bundled up like a crazy, homeless eskimo, lunging in incredibly cold temperatures. Geesh. Incidentally, for whatever reason, their dog was terrified of me. I think he sensed the Spartan-Crazy that would have me out on a day like this. He was concerned.
Here's the one problem with stopping, at a time like this. You get cold. FAST. I touched my face, to push my hair out of my eye, and felt the sweat had all turned to ice on my forehead. THAT is a bit disconcerting, let me tell you. I pulled my hood back up, put my mittens back on, and hoped the people would walk by a LITTLE faster, so that I could continue on my trek, that I was only a little over halfway through.
I pulled the neck gator back up over my nose and mouth (breathing was easier this way!), despite the fact that it had frozen into a shell-shape that it wanted to be in. Back to the lunges. Step. Down, UP. Stand. Step. Down, UP.
And on, and on, and on. After every 25 or so lunges, I did stop and sort of shake out my legs for about 10 seconds. It felt AMAZING. By this point (somewhere around 450-475 lunges), I had really gotten into a system. I was also leaving really strange tracks in the snow. This is the one thing I really like about the intense workouts I find myself in these days... my brain is quiet. As my legs were starting to tire, I distracted myself by looking around. I live in a BEAUTIFUL state, the snow was scenic, the quiet of just me on the path was refreshing, and everything was peaceful. I felt calm and centered. Sometimes, I think, you must just take the time to stop and look around you, to remind you of all the blessings you have. Yes, it was cold, but I had two functional legs (for now) to carry me through this, I had a warm house to go back to, food to fuel my adventures, and my health.....
Step. Down, UP... Stand. Step. Down, UP.
At exactly 625 lunges (I admit, after 575, I started checking at every 25), I hit .5 miles of lunges. I stood up, stretched, reveled in my accomplishment... and felt the cold bite at me. OKAY. Time to get back home (If I had been smart, I would've turned around at the halfway mark...). I decided probably the best thing would be a slow jog home; it would stretch out the legs in a different way and allow me to stay warm and keep moving.
This proved to be slightly more difficult than it sounds, as my legs were slightly uncoordinated at first, and I was navigating a difficult snow-covered path.... But, a slow 1.10 miles home was a nice "cool down".
I'm not going to lie, as I jogged through the city for the last portion of my way home, I felt a little bit like Rocky - my hood was up, my hands were in mittens.... I swear, I could hear the theme music. hehe
So, how are you fairing tonight, you may ask?
Actually, I'm okay. I'm feeling like my legs are aware that we did something today.... but I don't feel any more sore than I would any other vigorous activity day. Although, I suppose we will see tomorrow. I've been stretching all night to try and prevent this, because I would *really* like to be able to get up tomorrow and walk like a normal human. Plus, word on the street says tomorrow's CrossFit WOD has pistol squats in it.... I'm sure my legs are going to think that's an AWESOME plan, after today.
All things considered, though, I think I could've done a whole mile (Shh. Let's not give the peanut gallery ideas!). I think I may have to revisit this challenge, when it it warmer...
I salute you, TreeTrunk Legs... Perhaps you're good for something, afterall.
On which note, I'm off to do one more round of stretches, a bit more water, and off to sleep. I think I earned it today.
Dear Legs, Please wake up mostly functional?... Love, Me.
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