Frustrated and Discouraged

Well, here we go again. I guess it's about time for a whiny post about how badly I suck.

Today there was an Olympic Weightlifting Seminar at CFMK and I went. If it's one thing I've learned already about the snatch and clean & jerk (go ahead.. I know you want to snicker) it's that repeated practice (in good form) is the key. I was doing ok with the snatches. Not great, but ok. After an hour and a half of that, it was time for the clean & jerks. On a good day, I struggle with the clean so after being tired of doing snatches, I got discouraged quickly. And the jerk. UGH. My shoulder has been bothering me, so I was really hesitant when I did them. All in all, I guess the practice was good, but I feel like I didn't do well at all. Plus, I felt like since I've been working with the other coach, everyone there was watching me differently when it was my turn.

I wonder if I will ever believe that I'm an "athlete" or whatever. If you make me miss a day of exercise, I go crazy. I do CrossFit and have started the weightlifting. Yet, I don't think I'm even close to athlete status... I actually think I'm pretty lazy about it and that I'm just a normal person who exercises (if that). In fact, this is one of my absolute favorite t-shirts (which I actually wore today):

Isn't that friggin awesome?? I love it! Of course, in my case it's my old fat self chasing my new self. But whatever.

Speaking of my old fat self... So these weightlifting competitions require a weigh in. I totally understand it. BUT REALLY?!? I don't want to fucking get on a scale in front of someone!!! It's hard enough for me to look at my scale at home because it's so disappointing. But to have to do it in front of someone else?? It's enough to make a fat girl cry!!!

Blah.

Jonesing for a Fix

I woke up this morning and one of the first things that crossed my mind was that I needed a "hit" before I going to CrossFit and I was all out of my current addiction. I looked in my purse... No cash to get some. Then I saw it... my daughter's change purse. I raided my daughter's change purse for... I'm so ashamed to admit this... money for a diet coke. (Note that I didn't say Diet Coke. When you're from the South, it's all "coke" no matter what it really is.) I stopped at the vending machine outside of the grocery store.. it was out of order. I said a few choice words as I drove off (and on to get coffee rather than my beloved diet coke).

I'm sitting here now writing with a Diet Dr. Pepper by my side and all is right in the world. Except... Now that I've gotten my fix and I can think rationally again... Diet drinks are sooooo bad for you!!!

Of course, my other addiction isn't so bad! Oh CrossFit, how I love thee. Except... I have a confession. I've been disappointed by CF twice in the last week and it makes me incredibly sad.

The other day, the CrossFit Headquarters posted a story from an affiliate in California. Take a sec to read it then move onto my rant.

Perhaps it was poorly written and I misunderstood. But I do not see ANYTHING inspirational about this story. The man is a cop and got into a fight while on duty and his arm was broken. He did 91 burpees... whoop dee fucking doo! Obviously we don't know the details of the fight. But the dude got into a fight while on duty!! There's no honor in that!!

If you read some of the responses, you'll see one from him: Good luck to everyone signed for the open and drink more tequila!

Hmmmmmmm..... Maybe I'm being judgmental... I'm known to do that. But I think given the info we have... probably not a stand up guy. That's not to say that if you enjoy a few drinks you're a bad person! Just made me wonder if it all tied in together.



And #2. The WOD for week 2 of the Open (Workout 12.2). Ugh. I first read it and thought it would be a terrible thing to try and hurt my shoulder. (And I know I can't be the only one who can't do these well, so others would be getting hurt, too.. Right?) Then I thought about it more and figured that it didn't matter how many reps I got in really, but just to give it a shot. But something kept nagging at me, so I asked my lifting coach. He's not a big CF fan but he's an intelligent guy. I think that if I were to ask my CF coaches they would believe the same thing. Never in our programming have we had something that could possibly injure us, but I know there are WODs out there that could.

Anyway, his response was this:

The Open WOD 12.2: the snatch and clean & jerk were never meant for this type of scenario. Keeping form for that many reps is difficult even for accomplished oly lifters. Once you get out of synch with your form, bad things can happen.

I sometimes wonder if the CF gods realize that they are ethically committed to not expose their athletes to too much danger. This workout is an injury waiting to happen.

So. My first instinct was right. Then why do I feel like a failure for not even trying to do this?? Will my super awesome little spitfire CF coach be disappointed in me?? I must point out that he didn't say, "don't do it!" He could've. I would've listened. But noooo. He's making me be a big girl and make my own decisions. What fun is that?!? I hate making decisions!! And I hate being put in a position where I'll be judged for my decisions, too. Already a pain in my ass and we haven't been working together for long at all! Oy!

(**I told him the other day that I talk trash about him on my blog. Seeing as how this isn't hidden or anything, I figured I needed to get some in there in case he finds it!**)

Well. I'm out of Dr. P and sad now. Why did I not get the 2 liter?!? WHY?! I have been saying, "just this last time" about my little 20oz bottles (daily) for weeks now and none of them have been the last. Today was the beginning of a new month... a fresh start. And still, I couldn't go without. All because of that stupid mud at my son's school. If I'd never gotten stuck in the mud, I'd never have let myself get that Diet Coke that day after fixing my mess... It's all because of the mud.

The Land of Make Believe

Are there any facts in your life that you take for granted as being normal when they really aren't? This morning I was talking to my weightlifting coach and asked him how long he's been married. He said since 1988 and the wheels in my head started turning. I wasn't trying to calculate how long HE had been married, rather how long my parents had been married. They also married in 1988. I stated that and went back into La La Land thinking about what we should do for them next year for their 25th anniversary (which is rather complicated right now since it seems as though no one is speaking to each other much lately). 

I think I repeated to him three times that they married in 1988, totally not understanding why the quizzical look on his face. But... oh. Yeah. My dad isn't my "real" dad. I tend to forget that most of the time. He's the only dad I've ever had. And the only grandfather my kids have had. 

At some point I need to tell my kids about all of this, I guess. A few months ago, my son asked why my maiden name was different than their last name. I blew it off because I was completely unprepared to answer it. It's never come up since. But I know that I need to address it. It's totally going to blow the boy's mind when I tell him and it just never seems to be the right time. 

It's not a huge deal, but my kids live in a little bubble world where everything is perfect. They don't realize that my childhood wasn't traditional. (I hesitate to say normal because what exactly is normal??)  At some point they'll put two and two together (especially the boy) and figure it out and ask more questions. I'd like for them (and me!) to stay in that little bubble world. 

I don't want to tell them about my biological father. As horrible as it sounds, I was glad he passed away before I had to worry about the kids knowing about him. Not exactly someone I wanted in their lives (not that he was every really in mine except to pop in and out every few years). 

But at some point, I'm going to have to pull my head out of the sand and talk to my kids about it... You know, the grown up thing to do. 

I Hate Logic

I have a lot to say today (lucky you) and I'm going to struggle with it. Logic and I don't always go well together and I have to be logical about this. Well, I don't HAVE to be. I could be my normal whiny self, but that annoys even me sometimes! 

I'm tired. Not mentally, but physically. Mentally, I'm ready to go! But physically, I just need a break. I KNOW bodies need breaks. I GET that. If someone were saying to me the things that I think, I'd smack them and tell them how stupid they're being! But none of that applies to me, you know! 

Yesterday I met with my lifting coach. Oh dear God. I would like to say horrible things about him, but he's a nice guy. That was only the 3rd time we've worked 1:1 and definitely the worst so far. And I know it's not going to get any easier! 

My last day off (from exercise) was last week when I was sick. And let's face it, a day off when you're sick isn't REALLY a day off. Instead of your body fighting to repair itself from the stress of the workouts, it's fighting to heal itself from sickness. (I stole that from a friend who was giving me a pep talk. Did you think I was doing a good job of being logical?!) 

So anyway, yesterday morning was hard. I think my favorite part of it was hopping around like a fucking prison frog though. (I KID! I felt like a dumbass!!) Thankfully, I have no picture to show you of this stupid, stupid move. But basically, I'm squatting and jumping (like a frog) but my hands are on my head (like a prisoner). I SWEAR that trainers/coaches enjoy making people look stupid. You'll never EVER be able to convince me otherwise! 

After yesterday morning's torture session, I went about my day being all lazy and tired. I took a nap even! But it only made me feel more foggy. Then I had swim lessons. Oh dear God. WHY did I do this to myself?!!? I don't need to learn to swim!! 

Here's where I need to try really hard to be positive. It's really hard because to begin, I have to admit some pretty embarrassing stuff. For example, we use those floaty belt things. Soooo sexy. Fortunately, when you're swimming, you can't really see them. But everyone there knows you're the adults who don't know how to swim. ANYWAY! My swim coach took my belt away. I was so mad. THEN! He had the nerve to tell me that I have "drag" when I swim. My CF coach tells me I have "drag" when I run. Do they not know I have a LOT of mass to deal with?! Sheesh! Give me a break, people!! 

Oh. Wait. I just realized that there was no positive talk there! Let me try again. I am no longer using the sexy belt. There. That's all I've got. 

So today I'm just doing normal everyday stuff... Like cleaning. And cooking. And being a mom. Which I really should go do instead of sitting here whining about how lazy I feel. 

(Did I mention that today's WOD looked AWESOME?? Maybe I'll do it tomorrow.)

Surviving 7 Minutes of Burpees

Before I get beyond the point of thinking positive thoughts I'm going to get this out. Dinner is going to have to wait for a bit longer!

So. Burpees. Holy hell, that sucked!! BUT! My goal was 50. My coach's goal for me was 55. I got 60. Now, I know that hearing positive talk from me about myself scares some, but hold on tight because it might be a bumpy ride!

When I workout, sometimes I close my eyes. I don't know why, but it gets me through it without being distracted by what's going on around me. Especially when it's fast movements... Burpees alone can make you want to puke.. no need adding blurred images to the equation!

I had a friend from my morning CrossFit class who didn't want to do the Open. I'm not really sure why because she's pretty awesome. But she came today, just to cheer me on. How friggin awesome is that?? (I felt really bad though b/c I chose the last heat to be in and made her stay so long.) And while I was doing my 7 minutes of hell, all I could hear was people cheering me on and shouting my name. Like, seriously. I didn't recognize some of the voices, but there they were yelling at me to get my ass up off the floor (in a positive way)!

A lot of times I have problems being cheered on. Especially when I'm the last one or when I'm the worst one. It makes me feel like the "special kid" to be honest. But today.. I don't know. It was just different for me and how I took it, I guess. 

Out of everyone there, I had the fewest number of burpees (by 12+. But there is not one thing that I would change about how things went. I can definitely say I did my best and... omg... I'm proud of how I did. (Did I really put that in writing?!) 

There were so few people from CFMK who came out to do the Open and I'm really surprised. Hell, they were surprised to know that I was going to do it. I thought for sure that alone would get people to come! Ha! But that's their deal. For me, it was something I had to do (and will continue having to do for the next few weeks). It's not about anyone else but me and my own personal demons. But I tell you what... Having so many people cheering me on... Just wow. (I even got a bit teary afterward when I thought about it!) That feeling of support is something that I wish everyone could feel because it's awesome. 

To make it even better, I had other CrossFit friends from around the country cheering for me as well. All know my past. All could totally kick my ass in WODs. But they all have that CF attitude that's just amazing. Bust your ass and they think you're great... doesn't matter what your score is. (That's all Crossfitters.) 

Words from yet another friend just before I left stuck with me as well and helped much more than I'm sure she realizes.  I am so proud of you. Not for your results, but for continuing to push yourself in an area where you don't always feel confident. I think it's awesome that you are allowing yourself to not be "perfect." 

This will sound silly, but I love that I made my CF coach proud. She's so awesome and I feel has invested  way more time and attention in me than maybe she should've. I'm so glad to have her. She's a super amazing athlete (she did 135 burpees!!!) yet she doesn't bat an eye at those of us who aren't as good. She cheers us on and encourages us to do better. And when we do, she thinks we're awesome. And when we don't, she keeps cheering us on. 

(Don't let her tiny cuteness fool you. She's a beast!)

Know what else feels awesome? STOPPING after 7 minutes of burpees. Let me tell you... just plain awesome. Of course, struggling to breath kinda sucked, but at least it was over!

A Bullet With Your Name On It

I have so many thoughts going through my head today and have no idea where to begin. Or even if they're worthy of writing about. Or maybe they're worthy of posts all their own. But if I do that, I'll never get the thoughts out of my head. So here ya go... A few things on my mind lately.

• I think about who reads this blog and I try not to say anything that I may be embarrassed for them to read or for someone to tell them. Or that might hurt their feelings or make them mad. But you know, whatever. It's MY blog. They are MY thoughts. And I'll write what I want to write. And then avoid people later! (Except for hurting feelings... If I think it may hurt someone, I won't write it.) 

• My daughter. She's a beautiful creature who drives me absolutely bat shit crazy! I love her dearly and cannot imagine my life without her. I want to grab her and hug her and make her life perfect in every way. Not only is she pretty, but she's a smart little cookie, too! I know I sound like a bragging mom (and maybe I am), but she really is smart.
     The problem? The older she gets, the more we realize how much smarter she is than we thought. She resists praise when she's done something well (by using her brain). You can tell her how cute she is all you want, but for example, if she does some quick math in her head and you praise her... forget it. She runs off and that's the end of that. She's only 4. She's waaaaay too young for this to happen and I don't know how to handle it. It makes me so sad. 

• Today is the day that CFMK hosts locals to do the first CrossFit Games WOD. I'm doing it (scaled and only locally) and hoping and praying that I'm not going to make a complete ass out of myself. The first WOD is 7 minutes of burpees. My super fucking awesome CF coach did 135 of them. ONE HUNDRED AND THIRTY FIVE BURPEES IN SEVEN MINUTES! (Yes, that deserves to be shouted. It's fucking awesome.)
      I'm trying to get over my fear of making an ass of myself in front of other people. I'm doing this for ME, not to prove anything to anyone else. Yet, I'm so scared to do it because I know that the people who will be there will be super awesome, way more fit than I am, and able to do way more than I can. But again, this is something I'm doing for myself, not for anyone else.
     People at CF who I tell I'm doing it are surprised. Which, let's face it, I don't know if that's their issue because they're intimidated (by the WODs, not me), or they think I can't do it well. I know I'm usually the last one to finish WODs, so I have no doubt it's at least partly the latter. I was talking with someone I workout with the other day about it and we were discussing how many we think we can do. I said I was shooting for 45-50. The reaction? Big eyes and a scoff and a comment about how that might not be realistic. But I insisted that I wanted to aim for that, so the prediction my friend made was that I could get between 35-50,  only saying 50 because I insisted. If you have learned anything about me, you know that pissed me off. Fuck that, man!! Thirty five?? REALLY?
     So. I went home and gave it a shot. I'd been awake since 3:45am (thanks, kids!) and had already had a full day by the time I attempted it at 2pm. (I should add.. A friend in NY did a dry run for it and she and I were discussing it via Facebook. She got 56 and was curious what I would do.) I blasted some Pitbull, which was pretty much my only motivation seeing as how I was planning for a nap that afternoon, not burpee hell. I didn't get my 50. I got 48 burpees in 7 minutes. Not terribly bad considering the conditions. Not as awesome as some people. But whatever. It's awesome for me.
     (I have to throw in another little shout out for my CF coach here... when I told her my goal, she didn't act like I was a loser for only getting 48. Her response? "You will get 50 tomorrow. Fuck that. You will get 55."  Oh, how I love her. One day I will write a whole post about how amazing she is. And so you don't think I've fallen in love with her [it's only a slight girl crush] I'll talk about all of the amazing women I've come across since I started working out.)    Here's to hoping I don't disappoint her or myself!!
  
  
  
• This whole weightlifting thing has been weighing on my mind (no pun intended). At some point, I'm going to have to make a decision about doing it or doing CrossFit. I'm so completely in love with CrossFit and cannot imagine leaving. But I also see how lifting heavy shit could be good for me (mentally). Obviously I just started, so there's no need to make a decision yet. But man am I dreading that day.
     Just the fact that I won't be able to do CF on the days I lift has already made me feel like I'm cheating on CFMK. (I know, I know... I have issues.) I'm an extremely loyal person. And I hate this. I don't want to choose!!
  
  
  
• My eating has gone to shit.
  
  
  
• Several people have asked me if I would like comments on my blog. PLEASE, if you have something (nice) to say, feel free to say it!! While I do this blog for myself, feedback is welcomed! 

Mr. Gorbachev, Tear Down This Wall!

If it's one thing I've learned very clearly in my life, it's that no matter what, you can only depend on yourself. Unless it's whining from kids. That's always something you can depend on! Sadly, despite knowing this, I still lean on others or look to others for help when I  know I shouldn't. Eventually, I'll always get burned, even if it isn't intentional on the part of the offender.

When I reached my goal weight, I had the following quote imprinted on a pendant (and my original weight on the back).

No one saves us but ourselves. We ourselves must walk the path.

(The original quote is actually: "No one saves us but ourselves. No one can and no one may. We ourselves must walk the path." But it was too long!)

Until recently, I ALWAYS wore that pendant. At some point, I found the courage to take it off (after it repeatedly got busted off the necklace at the gym). It's on my key chain now. It always stood as a reminder of what I used to be and what I never want to become again. I finally decided that I didn't NEED it anymore. But sometimes I still want it. I reach for it daily still. I'm comforted when I see it, thought I don't seek it out (usually).

While I had Lisa's help to lose weight, ultimately I did it on my own. And while I've had trainers who have pushed me and helped me along the way, again, ultimately I was the one who did it. I know I needed that push and that support. But when it came right down to it, they didn't do the work for me. (Look at me being all positive!!)

I know I have let people down before. I don't think many people go out seeking others to hurt and disappoint. It's just a fact of life, unfortunately. More than anything, I would love to keep my kids in a bubble and prevent them from ever feeling that kind of disappointment from someone they trust. Unfortunately, I know that at some point, I will disappoint them myself. I just hope that I never let them down so much that they think they can't ever depend on me. And hopefully they won't learn to be as jaded as I am.

It makes for a rather lonely feeling not allowing yourself to get close to people in fear that they'll let you down. Letting that wall down and getting hurt only makes it that much harder the next time someone new steps into your life. What's the key to not getting hurt? Not caring? That can't be it! You cannot go through life without caring about others. Not trusting? Trusting only to a certain point? If so, what's that point?

I doubt there's a way to solve this problem. I know the issue lies within me. I like caring about people. I like that feeling when I do trust someone... right up to the point of when they do something that ultimately hurts me. Maybe my standards are too high. Maybe that's my problem.