A great snatch and other happy things.

My days didn’t start great this week. Nothing horribly wrong, just your run of the mill “not great” mornings. The girls started fighting at the breakfast table, brought it upstairs, yelled when I brushed their hair “gently” – so I showed them what “hard” felt like. Sophia told me at the last minute that she needed lunch money. Stella panicked because one of her library books didn’t get read. I didn’t have any money in my purse for “Friday’s treats.” Bobby the cat, puked up hair bands left on the floor by the girls that he’d eaten. . . in about 7 places. The other two cats had been trying to eat the pet fish for breakfast, so I need to re-tape the tanks the kitchen counter. My husband called at my busiest time and was irritated that I didn’t have “five minutes to talk.” Both girls picked completely inappropriate outfits for a very cold windy day because they saw sunshine. I had to make them change. If you’re a Mom you know why this is an awful process. My computer won’t connect to the internet consistently and I can’t figure out why, which is a problem when you need to pay bills and you do this online. And finally, I have somehow gained somewhere in the range of five or more pounds – I don’t weight myself, but my jeans are saying very nasty things to me. So when even your workout pants feel tight and you have to look for your loosest tank, it kind of puts you over the top, so to speak. Anyway. . . like I said, nothing life threatening. . . just life.

So what do I do when I’m having a bad day? Or consecutive bad days? Well, here are a few of my “go-to” things that make me “happier” for the moment. I’m not going to tell you any heavy-deep-and-real things. My happy little things are sometimes rather shallow and simple. Some are physically productive. None are in particular order. And I do not do all of these things on a given day. But on very awful days, I just may do them all!

New lip gloss. Always makes me smile. Even though I generally purchase a shade very similar to what I already own. I still like putting it on. I’m a bit of an addict.

Phone calls. To anyone who will listen to you. Usually a best girl friend. I’m very blessed to have several to choose from. They sometimes probably wish they could be put the bottom of the “call” list.

New jammies. Nothing feels better than putting on a new pair of p.j.’s. I just like them. I put them on very early on Friday nights when we have nothing going on. I own A LOT of jammies.

Self-Tanner. A pale girls’ best friend. Nothing makes me feel better than seeing a bit of color on my skin. Especially when I am feeling a bit frumpy. Brings me back to the days of Yakima sunshine and baby-oil suntans.

New sweat pants. These are great because they are never tight. So if the above mentioned five pounds are bothering you, you can avoid tight jeans and put these on and feel a bit cute.

Painted toe-nails. A new coat of polish can do wonders for your mood. Not sure why pink toes make me happy, but they do.

Picking up big weights. There is nothing like a great snatch or a heaving clean & jerk to clear your head and make you feel powerful.

Muscle-ups. Not everyone can do these. A very cool thing to remind your self that you’re capable of.

Coffee. Not the kind your pour from your pot at home – the kind you pay too much for when you’re with a friend. And then drink it with that friend. You’ll start taking about things that don’t make you irritated, or you may re-hash the things that do, but either way, you’re getting it out of your system.

Wine and great music and dancing. Enough said.

I lied, there is one heavy-deep-and-real thing that I do when I’m having a really bad day. I call my Mom. She makes me happy. She’s the most amazing women in the world. She’s lived through anything that comes at me and can make me see what matters and what doesn’t. Sometimes however, she can make me mad. This is usually when she’s making sense and I choose not to, but I love her more than anything and value whatever she says to me. I hope she knows this. I think she does.

This is not my be-all end-all list of things that can change my mood, but they are right up there.

Simple things that make me happy. What do you turn to when you’re needing a pick-me-up?

Like fine wine

This is a picture of me at age 24. Tomorrow I turn 40.

Is this a life milestone? It would seem to be if you follow the media or ask anyone nearing the age. Apparently I’m about to become an official “Cougar,” although I’m not certain if that applies to married women, or not. I’ll take the title either way. I think it makes us “older” women sound tough and like a force to be reckoned with. Complementary, I believe. But black greeting cards and balloons everywhere? It leaves one to believe that turning forty is near death. Dismay. Depression. Midlife crisis? It doesn’t have to be. Or gosh, I hope not, because it’s happening to me.

Am I overly concerned about entering my forties? In some ways, yes and in some ways, not all at. My body is healthier and stronger now then its ever been. That’s a good thing. I also spend more time these days thinking about what I want to do when I “grow up,” and not wanting to waste time on things not worth the time or energy. Another good thing. But I definitely spend a lot more time thinking about combating wrinkles and grey hair. Not a good thing. But besides that, I'm realizing, that turning 40 isn't such a big deal. I wake up and a feel just like I did 20 years ago. Well, that’s not entirely true. After a “late” night, I suppose I don’t recover like I did in my twenties. But in the moment, I still party like I am! Don’t tell me that I don’t dance like the twenty-something’s -- or look just about as good. . . in a dimly lit bar. . . around midnight. . . ahhhhh. . . the things we tell ourselves. But I digress.

My Grandma used to look at photographs of her current self and tell me that she wondered “who is that old lady in these pictures?” She said that she didn’t feel as old as she was. I’m very much the same. Maybe we all are. Those of us who want to remain young, tend to “feel” like we are ageless. Ageless. What an amazing concept.

I’ve met people who are young and think of themselves as “old souls.” There are people who are young and act as though they are much older than their calendar years. I wonder why they would want to run from their youth. And I know people who haven’t let the year they were born dictate their interests, or slow them down in the least. They still do all of the things they loved to do when they were younger. They haven’t bought in to the idea that we have to discard what we loved to do as kids because we’ve grown older. That is the person I will be.

“Ageless” can be applied to our behavior – but our aesthetic appearance as well. This is a topic all on its own, but I will apply it to my specific concerns. What do we do when we see those awful lines between our brows? The deep lines in our foreheads? I swear that I have been “surprised” and “pissed” for my entire life. I have lines that will tell you as much. They won’t go away. I’ve tried every wrinkle cream known to man. They won’t budge. Botox? Restalyne? Not sure where I stand on all of that yet. We should embrace the aging process. I always said, “never.” I said that many years ago. . . For now, what you see is all natural. But I will tell you when or if I decide to go that route. And I just may. As far as grey hair goes? NEVER. I will color my hair and get rid of those obnoxious little silver devils every 6 weeks or so forever. Seriously.

And what do I want to do with the rest of my life? Turning 40 doesn't mean I need to know today. But I will admit that this time of my life seems to be filled with retro-intro-spection. It’s my time to figure out who I want to be, if I don’t already know. And I don’t, so there you go. I suspect that I will take life as it comes, one day at a time, like I have, for the last as many years as I’ve been responsible for making my own decisions.

I was born April 6th, 1970. Tomorrow I turn 40. It will be a good day indeed.

It's how you play the game

It doesn’t matter if you win or lose. That’s what we tell our children. But is it what we really believe? I mean, who doesn’t love to win? Winning is awesome. Winning feels good. Winning is so very, very cool. It rocks! But is it really what matters in the end?

I’m a competitive person. I always have been. I was in 4-H as a child. I still have my box of ribbons and trophies. I also had one of the fastest horses in our neighborhood growing up. It was either me on my horse Toby, or Gwen on her horse Little Man who came in first in races. I always liked first better than second. I like winning card games and am quite happy when I stomp someone playing Yahtzee. I enjoy nothing better than being the house Guitar Hero top-dog for the night. I won’t even let my children beat me if I can help it. I rationalize this by believing it will make them tougher in the end. In high school I raced my 1976 Subaru down several gravel roads trying to beat guys next to me. I’ve even competed for the attention of boys with other girls. . . that shocks you doesn’t it?! And of course, there’s CrossFit. No, competition there, huh?

So now that I have established I like winning, let’s talk about losing. Based on what I’ve just said, one would assume that I think “losing” is just awful. But believe it or not, I don’t think that. There is something to be said for giving it your best and being happy with the outcome. I know what I said about how cool it is to come in first, but there are times when the one you’re competing against is yourself. It’s then that you need to think about what it means to win.

Define “winning” for yourself. What does it really mean to you? Gaining a sense of accomplishment that you didn’t have the time before? A new PR? In my mind, that’s winning. Winning is sometimes just finishing. Winning is bettering yourself. Winning can be overcoming something that you fear and conquer. Each circumstance is different, but the result is the same.

In addition, there is “good-natured” competition and there is “win at all costs” competition. I am a fan of the former, rather than the later. Losing gracefully is of equal importance as to winning gracefully. Maybe this is something I should learn when playing board games.

Here is what I think. And it’s what I try to live by, although I don’t always. . . Work your ass off. Play smart. Push your boundaries. Go the distance. Do every thing that “they” say to do when you want to achieve greatness.

But remember . . . Sometimes the outcome isn’t “First Place.” Second Place is not the “First Loser.” And sometimes you just did your “Best.”

In any event, try to believe in your heart that YOU’VE WON.

Easy question. Tough to answer.

A friend asked me the other day, “What do you want out of life?” The strangest thing happened. I realized that I didn’t really know. Or rather, I could not quickly answer the question. I think we get very caught up in day to day life without ever taking the time to think about what it is we really want -- and then going the next step of actually working towards attaining those things.

So I sat and thought about what I wanted. I thought and I thought. I wrote down my list. It’s in no particular order. Actually it bounces all over the place as I thought of things. I suppose that’s okay. It’s not like life happens in order or with any rhyme or reason.

Some are easy and tangible. Some are harder to reach. But I think the idea is to know where you are heading or where you want to go. Try to do this. I think you’ll find it harder than you think if you get really specific. Things like I want to see the Grand Canyon. Or I want my children to have fond memories of experiences from their childhood. Or have a job that’s rewarding. Or be able to sit in peace with your own thoughts. Or get to share those thoughts with a friend that enriches your life. Or have enough money to support your desires without letting it define your happiness or success.

I imagine there are some things on everyone’s list that will never come to fruition. And maybe that’s okay too. We can’t have it all, can we? But there are probably some things on that list that we can.

Life should be challenging. You shouldn’t just let it happen to you, although the vast majority of us do just that. For instance, ask most people why they do the job they do and they will tell you “they fell in to it.” That’s not bad. We all have to do what we have to do. And of course “do-over buttons” are pretty rare to come across. Life and circumstance can dictate what we do and why we do it. I understand that. But shouldn’t we try to make our lives what we want them to be? That’s easier said then done, of course, but it’s worth shot.

My friend, Kim Derting, is an example of a woman who knew what she wanted and went after it. She’s now a published author with her first book, “The Body Finder,” just having just been released nationwide by Harper Collins. Her second book, “Desires of the Dead” will be out in 2011. She could have decided that at 40, with three children and a busy life, that her desire to be published was a pipe dream. But she did the hard work. She took the leap. She’s reaping the rewards. She inspires me every time I think of her.

My Mom has always said that “not making a decision is making a decision in of itself.” So in that vein, letting life just come at you without knowing what you want from it, is like saying that you don’t want any control over what happens. Right?

Well, I don’t want my life to just “happen.” I want to live with love and joy and challenges and goals and desires and wishes and abundance. I want to control what I can and accept what I can’t. Wishful thinking? Maybe. Probably. Too much to strive for? Never.

Chasing Cari. . .

Although I have several of what I consider to be “weaknesses” relating to my fitness, running is number one on my list. I don’t know why it’s so hard for me. Maybe I was born with little lungs? Maybe my feet are extra heavy? I don’t know, but it continues to be something that I struggle with.

I have feelings of dread whenever I see running as a part of a WOD. I would rather do almost anything than run. And from a CrossFit standpoint, when talking about the functional aspects of our training and how it relates to everyday life – well, I still can’t see that running any sort of distance, beyond a sprint, is necessary.

I have argued this theory several times. If a bad guy is chasing me, I’m not fast enough to stay ahead for very long – maybe 200 meters, tops. So even if my endurance could outlast him, my slow legs will be the determining factor for him actually catching me. So what is the point? And I’m only partially kidding. Part of me, really believes this to be true. The other part, however, knows the fitness benefits of running.

So why do I continue to try and get better at it, when I most definitely do not like it? Well, mostly because I can’t stand “something” beating me. I can’t stand that I am not good at it. And I sincerely want to get better. So here’s been my plan. . .

I decided to get a couple of 5K races on my to-do list. The first one, I had never ran anything over 2 miles. My time was 35 minutes. Awful. Awful. Awful. I told myself I didn’t care about my time and that “finishing” was what mattered. I lied. I wanted to do better. So, I signed up for another.

Did I prepare? No. But I did manage to beat my time by a considerable amount. Second 5K. . . 28:23. Wow! I was so excited, I signed up for another. What does this tell me? I am chasing being “better.” And that’s the mind of a true CrossFitter! Chasing getting better, chasing a better time, working on my weaknesses.

Today, Cari and I hit the Orting Trail for a short 2 mile run to work on “my weakness.” We decided to chat and listen to birds and forgo ipods this time. As it turns out, my heavy breathing nearly drowns out nature, and apparently Cari and I have told so many stories, we may be "running out. " Back to music next time!

Live and learn. Or “run” and learn as it was today. Either way, I will make a new play list, throw on my shoes, and chase Cari’s red pony-tail, down some road, dreading each step, self-talking my way to the end, another day, towards my goal, until. . .

I reach another finish line.

(thanks friend)

I want to be Aimee

When I grow up I want to be Aimee Anaya-Everett. Who is she, you ask? She is a phenomenal national champion Olympic weightlifter. Actually I am in awe of many women who lift big weights, but I just happen to enjoy watching Aimee. I watch her form. I slow down videos, watching every single movement of her pulls. I wish I could ever be like her.

It’s kind of a funny thing to be pushing 40, and wish that you could turn back the clocks a bit, and be a professional Olympic weightlifter. I guess you’re never too old to try something, but I imagine that I’ve missed my window of ever being “good.” It’s something to work towards, however.

I am fascinated by the sport. For those of you who don’t know about it, there are two lifts in Olympic weightlifting – the clean & jerk and the snatch. Both are such incredible movements. My personal favorite is the snatch. I love the feeling of getting the weight off the floor and over my head in one fluid movement. These lifts are like a work of art. They are quick and explosive, beautiful and precise.

I especially love the technical aspects of the sport. There are so many elements to piece together, each one dependant on the other to have a successful lift. To me, it’s a continual work in progress. Even when you think you’ve gotten “okay” at the lifts – there is always room for so much improvement. I think that’s what I love most about Olympic lifting. You’re never good enough. You’re always working to get better. It pushes you every time.

This week I had a Snatch PR of 94#. I was thrilled! I was alone in my garage and had failed 2 attempts before going for the last one. I tried to visualize my success. I took my breath and went for it. I made it. With the bar overhead, I yelled to the walls “YEAH!!!” A wonderful moment that I wished I could have shared. That’s how exciting a PR is. It’s a moment when you conquer something you thought might be bigger than you can handle. Sheer exhilaration.

I have a goal of snatching my bodyweight some day. I have a ways to go. I really wanted to be in the triple digits by my Birthday in April, but I don’t think I will make it. And my max snatch isn’t terrible for my size and my extremely amateur status. But it could be better. And it is nothing, and I mean nothing at all, when you compare it to what good women lifters can get off the ground.

I recently watched a video of Aimee snatching 86 kg which is approximately 191#. And I just saw a picture of her snatching an inconceivable 91kg. Doesn’t that seem unbelievable? How extraordinary that she can get that much weight off the floor and over her head! And it’s a beautiful thing to watch. Check out some of Aimee’s and other amazing athletes’ videos, who train at Catalyst Athletics (cathletics.com). Go to the “workout” menu and watch any of their training.

You will be as inspired as I am.

(11/12 new snatch PR of 105#)

Go ahead, let it out

I am a crier. I cry for so many reasons. The obvious is sadness. But I also cry out of frustration. I cry when I am happy, when I am touched, when I am joyful. I cry when I am scared. I cry when I am very tired. Or in pain. I don’t think this makes me a weak person, I think crying is an emotional release, granted, my very common emotional release.

Some may tear-up more often than others, but everyone cries. There is not one person who is immune to the feeling of tears welling up in their eyes only to have them roll down their cheeks – sometimes taking a trail of mascara with them. Tears are like a window to your heart. It’s hard to pretend that you’re “fine” with wet streaks down your cheeks. Or the tell-tale puffy eyes that follow a good cry.

But let’s face it, sometimes you would really prefer to be able to keep your emotions controlled. You’d think this desire would make it easy. Unfortunately, it’s not for me. Sometimes I try to tell myself, “I will not cry.” And then I do. I once cried at the school because Stella was suffering from separation anxiety and I was forced to walk away from her while she was sobbing. I think the women in the office didn’t quite know what to say to me. They wanted to console me, I am sure, but I also know that I made them uncomfortable. That’s just one example of wishing I could turn off these tears of mine at will.

Crying makes others feel helpless. That’s because people in general don’t like seeing someone who is visibly distressed. We also have a tendency to want to say the right thing when someone is crying. We want to fix the problem. Because just watching someone cry without trying to fix the problem makes us feel rather powerless. We want to make someone stop crying. That’s our goal. Stop crying so we can believe that you’re better.

My neighbor’s cat died yesterday. She was crying. I wanted to do all the things I just discussed. But she was just sad. And there wasn’t a thing in the world that I could say or do that would make her feel better. Most times we can’t control our own tears, let alone the tears of others. Sometimes people just need to get it all out. Until they are done.

This brings me to a couple of conclusions. First, I need to stop telling my daughters to “stop crying” several times a day. They most obviously get it from me. Second, I will apologize ahead of time for crying in your presence – making you uncomfortable, and leaving you wanting to fix the problem – because I am certain it will happen at some point.

Hello, my name is Lori, and I am a Cry Baby.