A Truly Happy New Year

To quote 2013 me:

"My resolution for 2014 is Be Happy."

Done. I kept it short, simple, and specific. I feel like I did a pretty good job sticking to that resolution and working on it throughout the year. Did I have down days or tough days? Absolutely, but sitting here tonight I feel much more positive and hopeful about things than I did last year, so I'ma call that a win.

I've thought a lot about happiness over the last year and even more so in the last few weeks. There has been so much happiness going on all around me. This year I got to see my older sister get married and in just the last two weeks I've gotten to congratulate at least 4 friends on their "baby coming in 2015" announcements, 3 sets of friends on their engagements, 2 on their wedding, and 2 on the arrival of their baby just today! What I found surprising is that instead of being butthurt and all "is the entirety of Facebook engaged and pregnant?!?!??" I am legitimately excited and happy for them. I think it's because I have more fulfillment in my own life. It's truly awesome to be at a place where I can recognize and celebrate that incredible happiness in others.

I can't pinpoint any big changes that I made this year - I think it was more of a culmination of times throughout the year that I made the choice to be happy. Times I changed my attitude and the way I responded to my situation. I stepped outside my comfort zone more. It's all made a big difference, but I'm not quite all the way there yet.

As it is known to do, the universe has been tapping me on the shoulder the last few days to remind me of my goal, of my resolution... letting me know this is the right path and to keep going. 

I'm sure you've been inundated by New Year's "lists" - I've read a lot of them too, but the following are just a few of the better articles I've come across and the excerpts that really hit home for me.

- Your First Step Toward Happiness

"2. Change the way you think.

Indeed, all change starts inside your head. If you think like a victim, you will be a victim of the worst life and work have to offer. But if you think like a champion who overcomes difficulties, you will be an over comer.

Wayne Dyer, one of the most prominent success coaches of the last 50 years, says, 'When you change the way you look at things, the things you look at change.'”

- 10 Things I Wish I Could Tell My Single, Unhappy Self

"10. Be the hero of your own life.

True, things will change without you doing anything. However, once you take responsibility for your own happiness, instead of blaming your job, the weather, your friends and family, or the government — making yourself a victim — you can become the hero of your own life. When you actively seek truth, joy, and love, with the vulnerability and diligence you deserve, a fantastic transformation will not be withheld from you."

- New Year’s Resolution Remix: 15 Things To Stop Doing In 2015

"7. Stop feeling sorry for yourself.

You are not a victim; it’s time to get out of your own way. If you find yourself constantly surrounded by drama, you are the one enabling it.

You will never be able to control what others do; however, you are in full control of how you react. Realize that you can overcome hard times. Instead of attending your own pity party, you can accept the fact that only you can change your thoughts and experiences.

You have the power to control your feelings."

So basically, in 2015 I plan to keep on keeping on and taking responsibility for my own happiness. Working on losing weight (#roadto100 - by the 2016 CrossFit Games Open), being happy, and being more awesome. 

All the best to all of you. No matter what your goals, I hope to celebrate them and your happiness with you in the coming year! Cheers to us all.

Quitter

Some nights are harder than others. When I haven't been on track with my nutrition, or I've had a few days off, or I've been feeling sick, or I'm not as hydrated as I need to be...or all of these things all at once...it's not exactly the ideal set-up for success.

Every second was a struggle tonight. I wanted to quit so many times. I wanted to sit down. I wanted to cry. I wanted to just be able to breathe easily. Unfortunately for about 18 minutes none of that happened. I may have almost cried somewhere near the end if I hadn't already sweated out every drop of fluid I had in me. 

Tonight I was given the choice to finish the workout or throw in the towel with about a third of the work left. I didn't hesitate to drop my head and shake it back and forth to signify that I was done. 

Making that decision felt really good. Not just because it meant I could catch my breath and stop doing burpees, but because I knew it was a good decision. I don't usually like it when I'm told to scale or when I get time capped or have my reps cut mid-workout. Sometimes I get annoyed because it seems like I don't get the chance to see if I could do the work, even though I know (in the end) it's smarter for the coach to pull me back.

Tonight I was okay with quitting because I'd already hit a wall about 70 jumps, 15 burpees, and 30 pull-ups earlier. The moment arrived when I wanted to throw down the jump rope and walk away, but instead I threw it down and climbed up on the plates I stacked to do 5 more pull-ups. And then I did it again a few more times. And I got down on the floor and pulled myself back up more times than I wanted to. I kept moving long after my head started telling me it was having none of this exercise nonsense.

So, when it came time to keep pushing or call it good enough, I called it. I'd done more than I wanted to, more than I thought I could. I'd done enough to be satisfied with my effort. Could I have finished? Maybe, but knowing that I needed to stop and owning that decision and being completely okay with it proved more to me than finishing would have proved to anyone else. 

In the Silence

Music is an integral part of CrossFit to me. Really, it's an integral part of life. In my world there is little that I do that doesn't have a soundtrack. The first thing I do when I wake up is turn on the radio... I have one in the bathroom. I listen to music on the way to work, while I'm working, on the way home, when I walk or drive to the gym, while I workout, while I make dinner. In college my best papers were written to music. I can't imagine not having music in my life.

Of the 10 or so CrossFit gyms I've been to, there hasn't been a single one that didn't involve a 3,2,1...blaring music!! It's as much a part of CrossFit as barbells and wallballs. Just like I can't imagine driving to work in silence, I can't fathom being pumped up to get through a workout with nothing to drown out the voice that makes me doubt myself and begs me to quit.

But there's something to be said for silence. Amazing moments happen in the quietest parts of life. 

Every so often there exists a fleeting moment in the silence created between songs when you can hear the gym. An instant in which the thumping of the bass ringing in your ears is replaced by the pulse of your own heartbeat.

In that void, when all you can hear is the clang of a barbell and the rattle of the plates or even just the off-beat, rhythmless, labored breathing of the 11 other people swinging kettlebells in line next to you... I remember why I love CrossFit so much. 

The sound of the gym that fills those gaps is born of hard work. The clangs, and slaps, and grunts, and gasps for air. Every barbell that hits the ground is one that someone picked up. Every woosh of the wheel on a rower signifys someone getting a few meters closer to a goal. 

It may sound dorky, but I think it's really cool to be a part of that silence. It's why I liked being in band - that feeling of being part of a bigger whole. Knowing that the notes I played were just as important as the notes someone else was playing. (Especially since the instrument I played rarely got the melody, but I digress.)

When all I can hear in the silence is 12 separate people gasping for air, it doesn't matter that I'm swinging around 10lbs and the guy next to me is swinging 70. The point is that we're ALL breathing hard, all working hard, even if we're not doing the exact same thing.

In that moment, the emptiness and the silence of life doesn't seem so bad. In that kind of silence I don't feel alone. The sound we make together in the silence is as loud as whatever heavy metal or rap song is next on the playlist. And, if I really think about it, maybe that's all I need to drown out the doubt.

Photo Credit: http://www.flickr.com/photos/esm723/ / CC BY-NC-SA 2.0

Keeping My Head Down While Keeping My Head Up

I was at the movies last night with my little sister when I found myself suddenly inconsolable in the middle of the movie. It's not that the movie didn't have some sad parts, but I found myself continuing to cry even during moments that brought the characters joy. I think a lot can be blamed on hormones, but for no really good reason I just found this movie (that I actually enjoyed) to be particularly upsetting.

The first half of the movie had me laughing out loud, literally, then it's like all of the sudden I was hit by this crushing realization of how small my world was, but in the same instant the world seemed hopelessly and impossibly vast. It got to be a little too much and when emotions get too much they tend to seek escape through my tear ducts. It happens. Anyone who knows me even a little bit knows that I am unapogetically sentimental and that I cry a lot. I find my sensitivity to be both a great strength in my capacity for compassion and empathy, but also a weakness in times when I'm sobbing uncontrollably in public.

Still in tears after we left the theater, I was hit by a need to make myself feel better. I'd gotten mired down in this funk and wanted out. I wanted comfort and to be consoled. There were several things I wanted to do after my sister walked me to the car and hugged my goodbye. The first was drive directly to the store and get ice cream, even though I was only 3 days in to my Whole 30 challenge and was doing great and knew how much worse I would feel after I did it. But I won that battle and didn't get ice cream. So I felt a little better for overcoming that first test. 

My second option was to curl up inside my sadness and ride it out. I drove home, still crying, cried in the car for a few minutes before going inside, changed into some warm pajamas and then continued to cry myself to sleep. It was a rough night. 

I thought through things with a clearer head this morning and realized that I was upset because I was confronted by this idea that my life was never going to be what I wanted it to be. I don't hang out in that space all the time, but I visit with enough regularity for it to be problematic - ie public sobfests. The real problem is that I truly do get too focused on details to my own detriment. It's not just that I "miss the forest for the trees" - I miss the whole damn tree because I'm too busy looking at the veins on one leaf! 

Like many people, I assume, I've drawn a picture in my mind of how I want my life to be. I've added to the picture, erased some things, drawn them back in bolder... But I've always been stubbornly awaiting a full realization of this perfect picture, without spending the time to really dedicate myself to anything that will help it develop.

I am asked about and reminded of my goal on at least a weekly basis. Sometimes daily. I know what it is and I know what I need to do to reach it. I own it now. I trust that by putting my head down (in a blinders on, nose to the grindstone kind of way) and keeping my head up (in a proud and positive, focus on the big picture and what you're doing well kind of way) I will make progress. Instead of worrying about all the little pieces that I can't possible hold in my hands all at once, I know that they'll all eventually fall into focus. I just have to be patient and stay focused. 

I can't keep living life wondering what lies just beyond the horizon if I'm not willing to swim out and chase it.

Standing Up

I've been doing my best in the last few months to focus on training time as just time to improve me. I try to show up on my 3 predetermined days, regardless of what is programmed for the day, and do the work. The work I know is not going to be the same as what everyone else is doing, but is what is best for me. And, most importantly, I try to be okay with everything. To not get frustrated or upset. To enjoy being active with no specific goals or benchmarks on the horizon. 

I've tried to focus on those little victories that are often forgotten when bigger, faster, and heavier are blocking my view. Sometimes it's just showing up with a good attitude. Other times it's just continuing to move and not taking too much rest. A lot of the time I just try to listen. To really feel every movement and listen to how my body reacts. I feel like this is the only way I can see through this injury to the other side. I need to know that I'm doing okay (or not) so I can give an honest assessment of how the workout is going when/if I'm asked and know when I need to stop.

Like everything, this isn't always easy and isn't going to happen overnight. I trained one way - the bigger, faster, and heavier way - for the first year and a half. Chasing PRs, pushing past my limits...it felt good to train like that and it's hard to not let workouts get away from me and fly off with reckless abandon and go as hard as I possibly can. But that's exactly what I've been trying to avoid doing. Finding that place where I know I could probably do a little more, go a little heavier, do the work a little faster, but recognizing that exact point as the place where I have to be smart - dancing a little over the line, cautiously, but keeping an awareness of how each fraction of an inch past the line puts more stress on my body. Rationalizing that an extra few reps in the Monday workout might feel good on Monday, but will likely make Wednesday miserable. There's no prize for coming in last place a few reps higher on a random weekday WOD. 

It still kills me a little to stand at the back or off to the side with my dumbbells when everyone else is working on barbells. It just does. I've accepted it, but I don't know that I'll ever skip gleefully over to pick them up or approach them with the same feeling as I do (did) when approaching a heavily loaded bar. It's just not the same and I miss working with a barbell...as stupid as it may sound, that has been the hardest thing for me to accept, even though I know it's not forever.

Maybe all of that didn't help build my case, but I actually am happier in the gym recently than I have been in several months. Yes, I'm not where I want to be in every aspect of my training, but I feel like things are really solid right now. Also, just because I'm not able to see my major lifts get better doesn't mean I don't still have little goals or things I'm working on. I've decided this is the perfect time to finally get some double unders and add to my total of 10 lifetime DUs (singular, miraculous events that they were).

For the Fourth of July we did the hero WOD Glen. As programmed it's 30 clean & jerks at 95lbs ("Grace") + 1 mile run + 10 rope climbs + 1 mile run + 100 burpees, with a 70 minute time cap. My workout was 30 hang clean & jerks with kettlebells (which is exactly as awkward as it sounds), 1600m row, 10 rope pulls (from flat on the ground to seated to standing and back down) 1600m row, and 12.5 burpees. Yes, only 12.5 of the 100. 

As I lay on the ground between each of those 12 burpees I had a mini dialogue with myself - "Just keep moving until time runs out." "No, I should probably stop...it's starting to feel bad on the downs and ups." "But only on the downs and ups...can you make it to 50?" "Uh...maybe 25?" "Yeah...I'm done." 

Done on the ground in the middle of the 13th burpee at 45:45. And I let myself feel defeated for a half minute because I didn't finish. Couldn't finish? No. I decided it was best to not finish. Then I felt pretty great about that decision and the fact that I'd just done 45 minutes of solid work. I rowed 2 sub 9 minute miles and did a scaled Grace in just over 5 minutes. And, the rope pulls. 

The first time I worked on rope climbs in CrossFit I obviously didn't even get off the ground, nor could I manage the scaled option of pulling myself from the ground to a standing position using the rope. I literally couldn't stand up. I had to scale even further and only pull myself to a seated position and even that was hard. And it felt pathetic. Several months later I was finally able to stand and it made me feel so strong. It was the same feeling I got when I could finally stand up a Turkish Get-Up. I was worried going into the workout on Friday that I might not be able to pull myself up anymore. I've already lost my handstands and can't lift right now...I really wanted to be able to do the rope pulls. I needed to be able to stand up. At the end of the day, the thought that made my DNF (decided not to finish) okay was the feeling of successfully standing up.

As good as lifting heavy makes me feel, there will always be fulfillment in being able to stand up. On my own. In the gym and in life. 

Nothing Lost

My last competive weightlifting meet was over a year ago. It would be slightly ridiculous to categorize what was only my 4th time lifting in competition as the "meet of my life" but if that was the last time I ever step out in a singlet to lift heavy things in front of judges, it was a good way to end what was my extremely short-lived career in the sport. I went 6 for 6 on my lifts and got competition PRs in my snatch, clean & jerk, and total.

The MDUSA Open last May was effectively the beginning of what has been an exceedingly difficult part of this journey, but I honestly feel like in the long run I will be better for having made it through. That meet, as well as it went from a weightlifting standpoint, came with a crushing realization that I was at a breaking point. Physically, emotionally, financially - everything had just become too much. Don't get me wrong, I loved weightlifting as much then as I ever have, but it had gotten to a point where I was making myself miserable trying to make it work.

To say I was overtraining would be laughable to a real competitive weightlifter, but I realize now that my training volume was exceeding what I was personally able to recover from and I had basically failed to allow myself to succeed. I wasn't eating, sleeping, or really doing anything in the recovery field to the level I needed to make what I was doing in the gym beneficial. I didn't feel the good kind of endorphine-fueled exhaustion like I used to with CrossFit - just a soul-crushing, beat-down blend of debilitating soreness, exhaustion, and general malcontent. And I decided I couldn't do it anymore. I took a month off from weightlifting and CrossFit.

For the last year I felt like taking that month off ruined all the hard work I had done and I blamed that break on every subsequent set-back. I told myself, often, that if I had just been able to power through things would have gotten easier, I wouldn't have lost my conditioning, gained back most of the weight I lost in my first year, felt the need to overcompensate and "prove myself" only to push too hard and end up injured.

I fell on my face pretty hard this last year, but I can say that I truly believe it needed to happen. It definitely humbled me and forced me to deal with a number of issues that I had placed behind and beneath my perceived "need" to be validated and to appear stronger than I really was. The six months I spent away from the barbell have made me more aware of my motivations. The time I spent alone in the gym allowed me to appreciate those hours as nothing more than time I set aside to better myself and be active. It has helped me listen to my body and focus on my inner voice as a guide instead of letting the noise around me dictate how I feel about my effort or encourage me to exceed my limits in a destructive way.

I've been back in a group CrossFit class for three weeks now and I already notice major differences in the way I approach the work in front of me. I am truly okay with my monumentally scaled movements and I no longer feel weak because right now I'm performing at a 10th of the level I was capable of a year ago. I don't find myself glancing longingly at the rest of the class loading up their barbells and hitting snatches, clean & jerks, and squats and feeling a pit in my stomach because I can't join in on the fun. I feel the good kind of sore and exhausted at the end of my workouts. Most importantly, when the coach yells "Time!" I don't find myself frustrated, in pain, or in tears over something that should make me happy and feel good about myself. CrossFit is making me feel good again, even though the experience is not the same as it once was.

It might still be a long time before I'm able to lift heavy or compete again, but neither of those things are my primary goal anymore. They never really were. I have a lot of hard work ahead before I can focus on those auxiliary goals but I know if I decide that lifting competitively again is something I want, I will be able to get there one day. I'm choosing to focus on the good things I've gained out of this bump in the road and in doing so I'm able to realize that what I used to think was lost, never really went anywhere. Every experience leads me closer to where I want to be. I believe every gain - be it physical, mental, emotional - is a learning experience and when you learn something well enough it stays with you. Nothing is really lost for good. Except hopefully weight...next time around I hope every pound I lose stays gone!

I haven't taken many pictures lately because I was ashamed of my weight gain, but you can't change what you don't acknowledge (or some equally poignant Dr. Phil-ism). So here's a before shot to start another "Farewell to the 300s (forever this time)" effort.

Time

A few weeks ago a friend from college posted that she was considering a gym membership. I, of course, threw CrossFit's hat in the ring. I always have what my sister calls my "elevator speech" ready whenever I nudge that door open, but this time I was a little taken aback by the response I received.

I'm used to defending the intensity of CrossFit - "yes it's intense, but totally scalable to your ability level", the risk of injury - "there's risk in any sport and a good coach will teach you to move safely first", and the cost - "yes it's more expensive than Gold's or Planet Fitness but you get a personal trainer/group experience all in one and you don't have to worry about what to do for each workout and have you ever had anyone (or a group of people) cheer you on and push you to run one more mile on the treadmill at those gyms?" I share my own story of doing CrossFit at 350 pounds and how my Dad (and many others) have done CrossFit into their late 50s and beyond. I tell them about adaptive athletes doing WODs from wheelchairs and on prosthetic legs and how even kids and pregnant women can do some form of CrossFit. 

In this case the question threw me a little because it had never come up in a CrossFit conversation before and had never factored into my decision to start working out.

"How do you find the time for CrossFit?"

My initial thought was: What?? It's only an hour... You don't have one free hour in your day?!

I realize that I'm in a rare minority of people who don't really have any sort of responsibility, outside of work, or anyone to answer to. I'm not married, I don't have kids or pets, I rarely have to take work home with me... From 7:30-5:00 Monday through Friday my time belongs to the federal government, but the other 15 hours in the day are completely mine. If actually got the 8 hours of sleep I'm supposed to, that would leave me 7 hours of free time each day. 

I've had many jobs in my life, and I realized recently that this year I will have been a part of the workforce for half of my life. I've been working for nearly 16 years in some capacity, and looking back (save the years when I was in high school juggling school, band, softball, volleyball, track, and a part-time job - but not all at the same time), I've always had a good amount of free time that I have failed to make good use of.

I realized that during my internship I often had to work 10-12 hour days covering evening activities at the hospital, but I was still managing to average 5-6 hours of TV a night and even more on the weekends. My life was working, eating, sleeping, and watching TV. 

Something that I'm really glad I realized from the beginning was that I couldn't just start doing CrossFit and hope that everything would get better. I understood that everything had to change. My diet, my sleep habits, and how I spent my free time. I couldn't keep eating fast food every day because I was now working out. My evenings weren't about food and TV, they revolved around my CrossFit class and getting food as soon as I got home after (which I usually had to spend 20 minutes -1 hour cooking.) I still had time to watch maybe 1 show before bed, if I wanted to get as much sleep as possible, but there weren't enough hours in the day to keep watching all the shows I used to watch. 

When something had to give, it wasn't hard to choose CrossFit over TV shows. If you had asked me 3 years ago if I would be planning my life around when my workouts were and that I would have fallen at least two seasons behind on probably 10-15 shows that used to be "can't miss" parts of my day? I would have called shenanigans. I'm even starting to get into hiking on the weekends instead of sleeping or laying around watching TV.

So, how do I make time for CrossFit? Not a problem. It's time I schedule for myself and it's important to me, so I don't find it difficult to arrange my life with CrossFit in the center. Sure my apartment isn't always ready for company to drop by, and I don't do my dishes every day... But that's what rest days are for - doing all the rest of the stuff that isn't work, sleep, or CrossFit. Right?

My advice for anyone who feels like they can't fit exercise in their life is to take a look at how you're spending all the time that isn't work or sleep. Do you spend hours at the bars/clubs? Do you spend hours on the internet and social media every day? Are you going on marathon shopping trips every weekend? Do you watch 6 hours of TV each night? If getting fitter is an important goal, you have to make time for it. If you can figure out all the things that are keeping you from that goal, diverting your attention, and sucking up all your free time - and then elimate them... Think how much time you would have for healthier pursuits that are going to move you forward, not hold you back.