Spartan Shape-Up, Day 240:
It was an excellent day today, BlogLand.
First, as the warm weather rolls around and Spring Fever rolls through the cube-farm I work in, people are anxious to get OUT of there. Conveniently, we have a good dirt-road walking loop that is just shy of a mile, conveniently located next to our office... What does this mean? Walks on our 15 minute breaks and lunches!
This is a fabulous thing, people, except that I became the notorious "fast-walker" with a reputation to live up to. Meaning I am busting ass, with 1-3 other ladies in tow, 3 times a day. This is a good thing, though, as getting out of the office is good for my sanity, and walking a real brisk mile (I even convinced my boss to sprint 1/4 of it today, with me, to catch up to another group of walkers!) is good for my waistline. hehe... plus, I must admit, with the other runs and stuff I do, it's really nice to get out and stretch my legs; sitting in an office chair for 8 hours really causes them to stiffen up. Ouch. I still haven't found a great way around that. (Suggestions, anyone?)
AND, the announcement just came out that our office will be participating in the Corporate Cup which is a locally famous 5K run or walk, done in teams of 3. Shortly after that announcement came out, I had like 5 emails, recruiting me for various teams. That was the weirdest feeling in the world. My brain was like, "No, wait, we're the fat kid that's supposed to get picked last...."... and I had to remind myself, NO... we WERE the fat kid. Now we're that determined, healthy, strong chick, who's going to kill that flat 5K. That is a really weird internal adjustment to have to learn to make. It's a great joy to have to make it... but it is challenging, nonetheless. FCS kicks in pretty badly, in those situations.
After freaking out at my poor GT last night, I'm feeling much better. I'm a real driven achiever and perfectionist, BlogLand. I'm also terrified of jumping into race season. That combination is leading into some real craziness, due to the fact that I have no idea what I'm getting into with all this stuff I'm signing up for and I don't know how to gauge my abilities or new body, or anything like that. Thus, instead, I tweak out about being prepared, looking like an idiot, not being successful, failing at all my goals (etc.etc.etc.) and my GT stands there while the metaphorical storm rages around him. Then, his usual, calm self takes a deep breath, gives me some sort of raised eyebrow, knowing look (even though you're not here, I can see you in my head doing it, and I know how ridiculous I'm being, in retrospect), and then he gives me a plan, with which to constructively move forward.
I work well with with a distinct plan. It's hard to get stressed and nervous when you have a clear plan in front of you; steps to success, to take one at a time. I find that when I am overwhelmed, if I don't look at the big picture (OMGALLTHESERACESOMG), and I can just stop and focus on the next step in front of me, I can regroup my Craziness into manageable focus.
SO, my Mind-Losing session earned me a new run program for the next little bit, including one long run day (7ish miles), and one day of Sprinting. Ew. EW. I can see that's not going to be an awesome good time, but I can see the value in it. SO. Sprints it is!
That said, tonight's WOD was a combination of things... I had a lovely evening run, in the unseasonably amazing evening weather, with my Up-the-Hill buddy. I ended around 3.5 miles. Nothing fast, but felt good to get the mileage on, and snuck in a couple of sizeable hills.
Then, I returned home, in an excellent mood and still feeling energized, I thought I'd take on the GT's challenge for my new toy: My 35# (1 pood) Kettle bell:
100 swings (to eye level) for time.
It didn't seem THAT heavy when I started.
I ripped through the first 50. Then I *had* to stop. I was puffing, for sure. Wow. Who knew.
25 more.
Want to die. huff. puff. quad shake.
Bust through the last 25.
Put KB down.
Hands to knees. Huff. Puff. Want to die.
Transition to Starfish Pose on Floor.
Commence Dying.
Lesson learned: Never under-estimate your iron balls. BAHAHA.
With that, I leave you for Sleep Land. :-)
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