Ain't no mountain high enough

It’s been a long time since I have felt truly inspired. I have been doing CrossFit for almost 3 years without a break. It’s been my passion. It’s what I love. But I’ve recently found something that made me feel alive. And for the first time in a very long time, I believe I have found something new to grab on to.

Bouldering is rock climbing with no ropes. That simplifies it to an extreme, but that’s the quick definition. I went to the Vertical Club in Tacoma and tried it a few weeks ago. I was so intrigued that I dragged my friend Michelle with me to take a beginning bouldering class. I absolutely loved it.

What an experience. Totally new and different than anything I have ever tried. Challenging in a way that made me feel like my early days of CrossFit. I want to be good at it. What I know about climbing wouldn’t fill a thimble. But that doesn’t matter. The exciting part is the learning process. The journey.

I find it fascinating. There is a technical aspect. It’s like looking up at a puzzle and trying to solve it before you’ve touched the pieces. There is an emotional aspect. It’s scary and exhilarating and thought provoking.

It occurred to me that climbing up a wall is really a metaphor of life. You try and sometimes fail. You get up and try again. You make progress and you fall again. You walk away, regroup and try again. You know if you give up, you’ll never figure it out. You’ve left unfinished business on the table so to speak. You try again. And maybe that’s why I am so drawn to it. I can relate to the concept.

You’re at the bottom looking up at this wall in front of you. Staring up you’re trying to find your path. What is the best way to go? Will I make it? And just because you think you’ve found your way, doesn’t mean you’re going to get there. You can spend too much time in one spot. You don’t know which way to go, so you do nothing. You hang on until you can’t hang on any longer. Or you make a mistake. You’re at the bottom once again, looking up and trying to figure out how you will make it up the next try. Very much like life.

Most of us don’t start out with a plan and believe we are going to fail. We want so desperately to believe we can control the outcome if only we take the right steps. If we following the right path. Well, it doesn’t work that way. Life throws curve balls. You miss a foothold. You falter. You fall.

And unlike climbing, no one can tell you exactly what to do get where you want to go. Life isn’t a sport and sometimes you can’t figure it out. Time and time again, you might find that you simply cannot solve this particular puzzle.

Anyway, as I sat and watched people almost glide up the wall with such ease, I found myself thinking that, just like life, you can fight your way to the end, one ugly step after another, or you can keep trying to learn the skills to gracefully make your way to your destination.

I’m going to keep climbing. I’m going to keep learning. Searching for my “right” path. And when I fall, I will get up and try again. . .

Who turned the light off?

I’ve only cried two times after a CrossFit WOD. The first time was after doing “Murph.” The other time was today. Today I did “Holbrook.” Another Hero WOD. I hadn’t made that connection until just now. Anyway, that’s beside the point. My reason for crying after “Murph” was from complete exhaustion. My reason for crying today was quite different. Don’t get me wrong, I was certainly tired. But what brought me to tears was the realization and acknowledgement of the path that had gotten me to this day.

My friend, Jay Roughton (see pic), owner of CrossFit All In, wrote a post the other day that spoke volumes to me. It was called “Find your Switch.” Read it when you get a chance, crossfitallin.blogspot.com (Jan 24, 11). To paraphrase what Jay was saying is that people can either go through the motions, or they can tap in to that part of themselves that goes beyond just completing a task. It’s that part that doesn’t say quit, doesn’t give up, doesn’t back down, doesn’t make excuses. Being ON means that you give every ounce of yourself to everything that’s put in front of you.

I’ve taken a lot of time off in the last few months. The reasons are numerous and don’t really matter at this point. Reasons don't change the outcome. Oh yes, I still CrossFit daily. But. . . my switch has been OFF. This awareness left me in tears, sitting in my car, after a tough WOD this morning. It might not bring everyone to tears. I am an emotional girl, I guess. And passionate about what I love.

Today, I met a new friend and fellow CrossFitter, Loraine, for a workout at her box, Sumner CrossFit. I knew what I was walking in to because I’d seen the WOD online before I left. I had some anxiety. I always do before a WOD, but this was different. Some of it was new surroundings, new faces and being out of my comfort zone. However, if I was completely honest, it was how I thought I might do that was driving most of the fear. As it turns out, I was spot on in guessing how it might go. I basically had my ass handed to me on a platter! I was so wholly disappointed in my performance. It wasn’t my time, or who beat me. It was that I should have done better. I didn’t lose to anyone but myself. I lost the WOD because it had the better of me from the first rep. That made me angry. At myself.

You see, when you turn yourself off for any length of time, you will bear the consequences, both mentally and physically. Mentally, you lose your drive, lose confidence, and lose that competitive edge that drives CrossFitters. Those are things that others don’t necessarily see, but you know it’s there or its lack thereof rather. You start defeating yourself before 3-2-1-Go! The physical ramifications are quite clear. You suffer a decrease in overall strength, power, and intensity.

CrossFit is like a rollercoaster; a heart-pounding, kickass rollercoaster. If you take a step back from the one that takes your breath away -- the one that pushes your limits, and jump on the kiddy rides, you will pay the price. That is certain.

So how do you turn back on? Well, I imagine that one needs to decide that they want to get back in the game. I mean, you have to really want to flip that switch back on. And stop making excuses for yourself. Or telling yourself all the stupid reasons why you gave up. Stop thinking in terms of “used to be.” “Used to be” means nothing. What you are now is what matters. Embrace that. Be okay with it. Listen to the wakeup call and be grateful for it.

My wake-up call was today. It may have left me in tears. It may have humbled me, but it didn’t break me. Stay tuned.

Look better naked.

If you ever follow the CrossFit main site, you know that in the last month there have been a couple of pictures, posted on the front page, that have caused quite a controversy. Of course I can’t resist weighing in on my personal opinion. I have so many opinions; I figure it’s only fair to share with everyone.

These pictures featured topless (from the back) CrossFit women hanging from a pull-up bar. I could not resist taking my own picture in the same manner. I should also add that my dear friend, Cari and I, took topless pictures, in board-shorts, of ourselves to mimic a humorous CrossFit parody over a year ago. We should have submitted them to CrossFit HQ. Apparently we were ahead of our time. I won’t post those pics. She would kill me. Anyway, let’s just talk a moment about what is seen in a picture like this.

Here is what I see. . . Well, first and foremost, I do not see a woman being objectified. I also do not see anything obscene, or racy, or even outright sexy. What I see is the back and legs of a woman who trains. I see a woman with visible muscle tone – which means she’s worked pretty hard for it. I see someone strong enough to hold her body weight over a pull-up bar. I see someone who is proud of her hard work. That is simply all I see.

Here is what some other people have seen in photos like this. . . Outrage. Sexism. Objectification. The comments have been numerous and very impassioned. This certainly strikes a nerve with some people. Quick to criticize. Form judgment. They critique musculature. Question ability. Form opinions on the women in the pictures.

My question is why? Why do they care that I, or anyone else, choose to pose for a picture to display my aesthetic physical accomplishments?

I think it makes some people uncomfortable. For many reasons, I’m guessing. Modest sensibilities at the top of the list? Thinking that this distracts from “serious training?” By the way, it doesn’t. Even girls who’ll pose topless, want to kick your ass in a WOD.

I don’t know why so many people are seriously bothered by pictures like this. Should I be more modest? Heck no. Or maybe. I don't know. But I am 40 years old. I am proud of my body. I should be able to show it without criticism. And it’s not like I walk around a gym topless. It’s just a photo. We see photos of ripped dudes almost daily on CrossFit.com. Do we complain? Do we cry outrage? No. We take in the beautiful view and say “thank you.” This outrage is specifically placed towards women. Not fair, people.

There seems to be an element of the CrossFit community that still hold on to the belief that a “fit” woman should not care about how she looks. Or show it off. That is complete crap. The vast majority of CrossFit women, started CrossFit training to find the means to ONE end. . . to look better naked. Now, I will say, I also believe they found (as I have), that there is more to fitness than fitting in to a smaller pair of jeans. Although, even the hard-core, would appreciate those sides affects.

My point is. . . Yes, I care about my performance in the gym. Yes, I care about my numbers, my max lifts, my physical accomplishments. But yes, I also care about how I look. And yes, that fact contributes to my drive to work out. I don’t think that’s a bad thing. Look at a picture like this. Appreciate it, or don't, for what it is, and read nothing more in to it.

This is a picture of my fitness journey. And I am proud of it.

Today. Was the day.

Unless you have loved a pet. I mean, really loved a pet, you need not read further. This will seem not worthy of the attention or emotion I am giving it.

That was your warning. . .

Almost a year ago, I wrote a blog that begged the question, “When do you say goodbye” to a pet. I woke up this morning with the painful answer.

It was today.

My dear cat, Winni, was 17-1/2 years old this morning. Her tiny little body had withered down to just barely 6 pounds. Today I watched Winni go.

Here is what Winni meant to me. What she represented in my world.
She and Charlie (her sister) were my first pets as a real live grown up. I took pictures of them like they were my children. I think I even have the kitten “brag” book of photos somewhere near where I am sitting. They were so tiny when we got them that they could crawl under the doors of our mobile home (yes, I said mobile home. On an alfalfa field. In Omak). I watched them grow, shred my curtains and I loved them dearly. They made many moves with us. They went from “country” cats to “city” kitties and back again. We lost Charlie to kidney failure 5 years ago. Yet another truly heartbreaking experience. But Winni. . . she’s been in my life every step of the way. Through countless moves, 2 babies, lots of laughter, lots of tears. She’s been the one constant.

And she’s one tough bird. She was always a little thing. We called her “skinny Winni.” Only about 12 pounds in her heyday. But tough as nails. A great hunter. A perfect cat. Never had an accident. Never scratched. Very loving. The best cat you could ask for.

I have watched her health ail for quite some time now. I kept doing everything I could do to make life easier for her. The final step was to move food and water down stairs because her arthritis made walking up uncomfortable for her. I put cat boxes everywhere. But she just didn’t use them. It wasn’t her. She was lost in a world of aging and maybe even pain she couldn’t tell me about.

So last night as I watched her stumble off the couch, barely catching her balance, I knew it was time. I knew without a doubt I was capable of putting her out of pain. I knew I was being selfish. I finally knew. I loved her more than watching her deteriorate any further. I told Dion to pet his cat last night. She laid with him for a while.

I woke up this morning with purpose. I didn’t tell anyone what I was going to do. I made sure the girls gave all the cats “some love” before they went to school. I called the vet. I made the appointment. I laid on the floor with her in front of the fireplace and petted her while she purred. And we stayed there until it was time to go. I held her on the table while they administered the “medicine.” My hands were the last thing she felt and my eyes were the last thing she saw.

I brought Winni home in a carrier on the front seat of my car. She was afraid of what lay ahead of her. I remember holding my hand close to her and Charlie, assuring them I would take care of them and everything would be all right. I took her “home” today in a carrier on the front seat of my car. She was afraid of what lay ahead of her. I held my hand next to her and assured her I would take care of her and everything would be all right.

She is at peace.

CrossFit Does Not Hurt

People talk about CrossFit being “painful.” Pain is relative isn’t it? What hurts one person doesn’t hurt another. Some people have a higher tolerance than others. Some people respond differently to pain. I personally think that pain from a good workout isn’t like “real” pain at all. Sure, it hurts, but it’s short lived. By the time you’ve pulled your sweat drenched body off the mats and made your way to your car, the pain is over. Well, isn’t that the best kind of pain ever? The kind that only lasts for a short while?

Let’s talk about CrossFit pain. Yes, your lungs will burn. Yes, your muscles will ache. Yes, you will get bruises. Yes, your hands will tear and bleed. Yes, you will cry when you’ve been push past the point of exhaustion.

Big freaking deal. Suck it up. That’s not real pain. Pain from a CrossFit workout is good. You will be better for it in the end. You will feel exhilaration at the end of it. You are blessed to feel this type of pain. Blessed. So many people don’t get the opportunity to feel this type of pain. You can move your body. You can complete a WOD. You GET to do this. It is a gift to move your body! And it is a a gift to feel this glorious type of pain. Because other types of pain are not so glorious.

Pain from heartache is bad. Whatever kind of heartache. Its just awful. It’s a hurt you can’t get away from. You can’t catch your breath. You can’t “walk” it off. Or foam roll your way out of it. It’s not like DOMS. It doesn’t get worse on the second day and then miraculously get better on day 3. It’s a pain that lingers.

A dear friend of mine is watching her daughter suffer with an inoperable brain tumor. She is six years old. That is pain. I cannot comprehend this type of pain. And I love this child. This is real pain. Real, awful, raw, pain.

The heart doesn’t recover nearly as quickly as other muscles. And it can hurt for an unimaginable length of time. I think it may be the only muscle that may never heal after it’s been broken.

So when I am running or doing a WOD these days and it “hurts,” I think of her, and I chastise myself for thinking I am in “pain.”

God bless you, Peyton. You are in my every prayer.

Please pray for Reyton Rudkin.

It's all different now.

There is only one thing certain in our lives. . . Nothing will stay the same. Everything continues to change. And change isn’t always comfortable. In fact, I’d say in most situations, change isn’t something that we willingly embrace, no matter how it comes about.

There is change we choose. And there is self-serving decision. There is change we don’t choose. There is change that is selfish, and that is selfless. Change that is good, and change that is bad. It’s either chosen or imposed. Either way, it is defining in its existence.

Change is a tricky process. I know, because I have lived the last 18 years of my life with big changes. I have moved to seven different cities in the last 18 years. That means leaving and starting over a lot of times. Finding new friends, missing old ones. I have determined however, that although leaving is hard, the people you leave behind suffer more. No matter how the leaving comes about.

The person moving on has the benefit of experiencing new things. Even if those things are scary and unknown. The excitement comes with newness. It may not be easy, but it’s new. New is better than the “same old thing.” The person you left behind – they miss you. I’m not just imagining how this feels. I have lived both sides of this, too many times.

Sometimes we are the ones who are choosing the change. I’ve been told recently by a dear friend, “We need to constantly evolve.” Maybe that’s true. It goes along the lines of what I said before, that nothing will ever stay the same. But that one is hard too, when it involves two people. One person wants to “evolve” and one person was happy with the way things were. Or maybe not happy, but not willing to let go of something that was so great at one time. Why do we want to hang on to what was good, even it if isn’t anymore? Well, that’s another topic, I suppose.

I guess if I am really honest with myself, I tend to avoid change because it’s easier to stay the same, although, if you ask my Mom, she’ll tell you that “choosing to do nothing is making a decision in of itself.” I know I’ve shared this gem before, and I may again, because it seems to keep coming back at me in my life, over and over again.

Some types of change are harder for me than others. A change in a relationship is very difficult for me. What I’ve learned about myself, over the years, is that I am a keeper of people. I don’t “discard” people very easily. I can get rid of clothing I don’t wear, and that no longer suits me, was last season’s style, doesn’t fit well, not flattering, the reasons go on and on. . . but people? Well, I hold on to them for much longer. It’s a curse and/ or a blessing. I tend to love people beyond their “value” in my world. I hold on to people for what they “have meant” to me, what I “want them to mean” to me, what I “thought they meant” to me, what they “do mean” to me. You get the point.

So apparently, I choose to stay the same, a lot of the time, unless I have no choice. I choose to not make the hard changes. Why? Because, obviously, that’s hard! But that may change as well. . . because life is a work in progress, right?

They called me Popeye.

Definition: By Mayo Clinic staff
Chronic exertional compartment syndrome is an uncommon, exercise-induced neuromuscular condition that causes pain, swelling and sometimes even disability in affected muscles of your legs or arms.

Really? Who knew? Could this happen to me? YEP.

I’ll tell you a little story. Well, the “little” part won’t appy to size of my arms, they were HUGE. . . I did Angie on Wednesday morning. Thursday I was sore. Normally sore. I did heavy cleans that day. Thursday afternoon I was very sore. Abnormally sore. My biceps were slightly swollen. Mobility was tight. I said to Brady, “My arms have never been this sore, ever. Ever!” Friday morning I was in a lot of pain and my elbow started to swell. Friday the pain and swelling was worse. My arms were bent at about a 35 degree angle and wouldn’t budge. Saturday, worse. Sunday, worse. My arms were close to double their normal size. Minimal range of motion. I was scared. Monday, slight improvement upper arms, forearms getting bigger. Tuesday, swelling moving downward. Wednesday, huge forearms and wrists. Thursday, turning a corner. And so there it goes until finally looking “normal” the following Monday. Quite a process. My life for 12 days. . . pain, swelling, ice, elevation. And I was called "Popyeye" on several occasions. Luckily, I kept my sense of humor, most of the time. And let the record state, that I harbor no ill will toward Angie. It wasn’t her fault. It’s just life. Things happen.

Injury. It sucks. It hurts. It can be scary. It can feel like complete body betrayal. No one wants their training to halt because of unexpected injury. But isn’t injury always “unexpected?” It falls along the lines of “accident.” We don’t plan for it, we don’t think it will happen, but sometimes the body says “no more.” In my case last week, my body said at the top of its lungs, “HELL NO. NO MORE. NO MORE AT ALL!”

So what now? When injury occurs, your first thought is “why now?” I don’t have time for this now. And what you really mean is that you never have time for an injury. But try to focus on what you can do while you’re healing instead of all of the things you can’t. Easier said than done. I was literally envious today when the wod included “ground to overhead anyway.” I was the one holding the PVC pipe. Sad times.

We can be left feeling like we’re taking one step forward and three huge steps backwards when we suffer an injury. How long until we get back to where we were? How far behind will we be? Where could we could have been if it hadn’t happened? It can be disheartening to say the least.

Fitness isn’t always a steady course. It’s kind of like traveling on rolling hills. At times it’s a long steep up-hill battle, with rewards at the top. And sometimes you cruise along like nothing can stop you. Then sometimes you crash at the bottom. . .

It’s at that moment when you have to get up, brush the dirt off and do what it takes to begin the long climb all over again.

It’s worth the effort. I do believe that.