Comfort

I am a HUGE fan of comfort zones. I do know I won't grow if I don't step outside what's comfortable for me, but that doesn't mean I have to be happy about it. I am trying not to whine, but I wish I could find a way to grow and become who I want to be without stepping outside what is comfortable for me.

It's been a big week of stepping outside of what makes me comfortable. Going to conferences and learning new techniques and strategies is part of being a good teacher. I like to attend conferences so when the opportunity to attend the BEST Institute at the Killington Grand Resort came up in the Spring I asked to be included. I learned so much in the four days of the conference, things that will help me as a professional and things that I need to work on personally.

The team I was with worked hard. I tried to work hard too, but Tuesday was a rough day. I was over two hours from home, my cat, Eeyore, was sick and I felt like a fraud. I like to think I am an adequate special educator, but I am not a public speaker or a leader. My principal was there I wanted to show her I could be a leader, but it wasn't in me. I cried a lot on Tuesday: I was worried about my cat, homesick, missing my workouts and trying really hard to be a good team member. I swear every time we had a break or slowed down I was staring at the ceiling and blinking back tears, or not blinking them back. It got to a point where I dreaded needing a bathroom break because I knew the instant I was alone there would be tears and I'd have an overwhelming desire to run. Fight or flight I guess and I prefer flight.

Should you want to know the Killington Grand Resort has a nice fitness center. I visited it Monday and Tuesday and spent some time running (with some tripping) on the treadmill, using the elliptical, riding the stationary bike and using the rowing machine. Then did the "little" core circuit Tyler gave me to work on. I also did the core circuit Wednesday and even added a 2 minute plank at the end to see if I could do it when Tyler wasn't there encouraging me to hold on. I can do it, not sure my form was perfect, but given the trembling in my abs and quads I'd guess my form wasn't too bad.

I lived through it, so did the rest of the team. We have more work to do, but we accomplished more than I would have believed we could. I wasn't a leader, but I didn't need to be. I worked when I needed to work and that to me is what counts. To the people who think I have leadership potential thank you, but I'm not seeing it yet.

This morning I was back at Pride Fitness Performance. The workout was a team workout. Partners had a series of exercises to complete together. There was a Warrior Carry. Cool, I love the warrior carry. Oh wait, my partner was going to have to carry me? Seriously? CARRY ME?!? (Cue anxiety)

A million different questions ran through my head: Was Tyler trying to kill my partner? What was I going to do if my partner couldn't even pick me up? Would I be able to shake it off and make a joke of it or would I cry? My partner for this workout was Eric, the person I did the Warrior Carry with at Tough Mudder. I knew I could carry him, but I refused to let him try to carry me at Mudder. He assured me he could do it this morning and I bit my tongue, swallowed the doubts and fear and let him try.

I'm not going to say it was easy: there is a lot of me to lug around, but he did it. He told me that I worried too much when we switched and I carried him.

There's another thing I come up against that is far outside any comfort zone I might have: having my picture taken. Tyler takes a lot of pictures of our workouts. I think it is great to be able to relive the workouts by looking at pictures and I usually look at the photos and hope he hasn't taken any of me, or if he has I am waaaaay in the background, like he's by the Pride logo on the wall and I'm across the gym in the weight cave.

A little while ago, I noticed he'd posted pictures of the team workout. I loved them, seeing my friends flipping tires, carrying each other, sprinting, jumping hurdles and the pictures of the tug o'war. Then I saw it. It was black and white and I was carrying Eric. I won't deny it's a great picture, but that doesn't mean I like being in it. It takes me time to look at pictures with me in them and not cringe. There have been some pictures I've seen where it's been all I can do not to email Tyler and plead with him to remove them. I doubt he would: he knows what needs to be done better than I do. He certainly believes in me more than I believe in myself. If he posts a picture and I'm in it I have to trust it should be posted and move on with my day.

6/26/15 Warrior Carry with Eric H.

I have to stop being so hard on the woman in the mirror and cut her some slack. I would never talk to my friends the way I talk to myself. I know I've mentioned that endlessly, so I won't go on about it now. Maybe I can be a leader even if I get nervous and nauseated before any situation where I'm going to need to be with a group. Maybe, just maybe I am too hard on my body: it does some pretty amazing things. I should appreciate it. I'll work on that. I'll work on a lot of things. After all, nothing amazing happens if you stay in your comfort zone.

Thanks for reading!

Struggles

Maybe I'm just a whiner. Maybe I'm crazy. Maybe I'm just a normal human being who wants what she wants NOW, not later.

For two weeks now I've been struggling. Struggling to the point that I have missed two workouts. Yes, you read that right: I have skipped two workouts. I could claim I was tired, I could tell you I was giving my body a chance to recover from Tough Mudder. I could sugarcoat my absences any way I wanted, not to brag, but I am pretty good with words when I want to be. Maybe I could even make myself believe the excuses.

I'm not making excuses for myself, it won't help and I owe it to my trainer and to myself to be as honest as possible.He asked only one thing of me when he took over from my previous trainer: he asked me that I always be honest with him. If I wasn't happy with the changes he could deal with that, he just wanted me to be honest with him. Okay, I respect you Tyler, and I will be honest with you, with myself and with anyone reading this: I have missed those two workouts because I CHOSE to be lazy. I chose to roll over, look at the alarm and shut it off. Yesterday morning, I chose to let it start ringing, shut it off and snuggle Abbey. My body was ready to go, I was uncomfortable all day long because I changed my routine.

As is so often my problem, my mind got in the way. As hard as I try, there is still a mean girl whispering in my ear. She delights in pointing out all the ways I fail. It is her pleasure to sit on my shoulder when I look in the mirror and tell me I am still fat, I will always be fat and no amount of exercise is ever going to change how ugly I am. Since I've pretty much accepted that I won't ever see what other people see when they look at me, she's had to change her tactics. Attacking my looks isn't getting her anywhere, so now she's going after my fitness.

I gave that nasty little voice plenty of fodder at Tough Mudder. I noticed that I was the slowest one on the team. Big freaking deal: so I wasn't charging up the mountain: I got up the mountain and back down and up again. It wasn't a race for time, I knew that going in, but my speed or lack thereof bothers me so it makes a handy target for my perfectionist streak. Then there is my strength.

I am proud of my strength. I have reason to be proud. A 550 pound tractor tire deadlift, a 345 pound hex bar deadlift and a 325 pound barbell deadlift are things to be proud of, even I know that. The morning after Mudder I could not pull the sleeper sofa out to take off the sheets. If my friend Eric hadn't been there to make a joke of it and help me out I am pretty sure I would have had a tantrum, dissolved into a pile of tears and embarrassed the hell out of myself. We'll completely gloss over the meltdown after Skidmarked and the 10 minutes I spent alone on the balcony after we got back to the condo Saturday afternoon. Yeah, we'll forget about those. Even more for my mind to throw back in my face at every opportunity.

And let's talk about my headstands. On second thought, let's not. I can get my feet off the floor finally, but getting those legs up in the air is going to take a freaking crane, possibly an act of God. At the very least it's going to take one trainer a lot of time and talking to get me to attempt it.

So I've skipped two workouts, does that mean I throw in the towel, wave the white flag and walk away? In the past that is absolutely what it would mean. "I've missed two workouts, I've blown it, screw it". I would have justified walking away by saying I was only wasting Tyler's time, that without me around he'd have time to train someone else who deserved it more. I would have decided that my friends would still love me anyway. They definitely would still love me anyway, but deep down I know I wouldn't love myself.

It's not like I love myself a lot anyway. Sometimes I like me, but by and large I am not someone I would seek to spend time with. That's a horrible thing to say, isn't it? It feels horrible writing it, but there's that honesty thing again. I can't change it if I won't own it. I kind of like myself, but mostly I don't. There, I said it.

As much lip service as I've paid to knowing this is a process and a journey I'll be on for the rest of my life I didn't really believe that. I honestly thought this was a trip with an ending point, not a journey with more obstacles, twists and turns than I could have dreamed.

My next step is going to be silencing that nasty voice yet again. My inner "mean girl" needs to meet a hideous end. I know it won't keep her away forever, she'll creep back in the second I get lax about thinking about what I did well and trying to learn from what I didn't do well during a class or training session. When I forget I won't be the best at everything and that the goal is to make progress, not to be perfect that voice will be waiting to tell me what a waste of time this all is.

I have free will though and that means I can choose to listen or not. I get to decide if I am a waste of time that Pride Fitness Performance can do without, or if I really am inspiring to people for whatever reason. I don't pretend to understand how or why other people might see me as inspiring, but that's none of my business. My business is to do the best I can do to apply the coaching cues I get to become better, faster, stronger and hopefully more athletic.

There you have it...crazy little me in a nutshell. At the moment I'm going to end this post, go change and see if I can pull a double. Pride Fit class then buddy training. There's a chance I'll wind up a puddle on the floor, but I'll never know if I don't try and no one has told me not to try yet so I'll give it a whirl. I'll try anything once and maybe if I'm especially lucky there will be tire flips or something else I dearly love to do. A girl can always hope!

Thanks for reading.

Don't Feed The Fears

Saturday, June 6, 2015 was the first day of Tough Mudder New England at Mount Snow. It was also the day I became a three time Mudder. Basically that tells you I have absolutely no clue that I have limits and that's a good thing. If I thought about my limits I'd just call it a day and go back to bed. Some days that sounds appealing too.

The course was challenging and long (10.2 miles). From my first Mudder I have felt the same way in the hours before go time: anxious, nauseous and excited. This time there was a tiny, tiny bit more confidence: after all I have been training a lot: 3 Pride fit classes, 1 Yoga Corr class, Muscle Hour, Buddy Training, and Saturday Morning Sweat every week I could. A couple of weeks I was able to add a second Yoga Corr class and head to Lyndonville for MRT with my badass friends. I'm pretty sure when Tyler asked me one morning if I wanted a part-time job he wasn't entirely joking, but he never told me to get out so it must have been fine, right?

Ah...there it is, the self-doubt. There was a heaping dose of self-doubt swirling through me every time I thought about Tough Mudder. Yes, I had completed the course two times before, but maybe that was just luck. Maybe I wasn't good enough. Not even a fist bump before we headed to the warm-up corral helped. I honestly didn't think I could do it.

I put on my best game face when we got over the start wall. I'm not sure if I looked confident, but I don't think I looked terrified. Thanks to sunglasses I don't think anyone even knew there were tears at that point. When we were released onto the course I started up the mountain with my team reminding myself it was one step at a time, all I had to do was keep putting one foot in front of the other and I'd be fine.

The first obstacle was "Kiss of Mud 2.0". You get to army crawl under barbed wire that is right above you. I know this because it snagged my back a couple of times. This year Kiss of Mud included a chance to crawl through mud, then a really cold, muddy water and finally more mud. Then more hiking up and down the mountain.

Of all the obstacles we completed one of my favorites had to be Beached Whale. Not because it was easy, but because I got to try out some of my upper body strength. Tyler boosted me up, Eric grabbed one hand, Hailey the other and then I found the rope and pulled. It worked, I hefted myself up. Not that I did it on my own, not that I thought that was even possible, but I did some of the work on my own.

My favorite obstacle of the day was Warrior Carry. I made a promise to a friend that I would carry him the next time he did a Tough Mudder. I got my chance on Saturday. It was around Mile 7 and the right side of my lower back was complaining, but Eric was there waiting for me when I got to the obstacle. He asked if I was sure and I said I was. I gave him a piggy-back ride with a brief break to walk, then had him get back on and I carried him to the halfway point. Eric offered to carry me, but I said no. I might be smaller than I used to be, but 245 pounds is way too damn much for anyone to lug around, no matter how short the distance.

You noticed what I did, didn't you? I took a moment where I could have just been proud of how far I've come and what I've accomplished and I sabotaged myself by worrying about how heavy I still am. Well, if nothing else I'm consistent. Let's move on, shall we?

I conquered a fear on Saturday too. I completed Arctic Enema. The first year I did Tough Mudder I had every intention of completing Arctic Enema, but when it came to ducking under the water I lost my nerve and walked to the side to get out. A diver tried to help me, but I wouldn't allow it. Arctic Enema was "improved" this year. I used the quotation marks because I am not sure that sliding into icy water is an improvement. It certainly made it impossible to back out. Once I started down the slide I was committed. There were those moments I thought about clinging to the chicken wire and climbing back up and out. Glad I didn't do that...video proof of chickening out isn't something I want. Instead I have a video showing that even though my brain was frozen on "HOLY CRAP THIS IS COLD!" something kept my body moving so I could get the heck out before I completely froze. On a happy note at least that dip in the ice water eased some of the complaining from my calves and back.

After we finished and gathered our headbands, finisher shirts and beer a few of us went to the merchandise tent. I found two t-shirts I wanted and as I was standing in line a decal I'd noticed when we went in before the race caught my eye again and I couldn't stop looking. It wasn't that it was so striking, it was what it said. "Don't feed the fear". I must have stared it for a good 3 minutes before I grabbed one. I had to have it, I really need the reminder that I am my own worst enemy.

I feed my fear all the time. I turn minor mistakes into glaring, irreversible character flaws that mean I should move to a cave in the woods and never see another human again. You know, that idea has a certain amount of appeal. Yeah, I should reel it back in and get to my point. You've wasted enough of your time on my rambling.

It's not that I want to feed my fears, but I'm not sure how to stop. Some of the fears (I am not good enough, smart enough or pretty enough) are messages I took from the way other people have chosen to treat me. I am smart enough to know intellectually that the way someone treats me is a reflection of them, but my heart clings stubbornly to the idea that if I were just a better person, people would like me.

I conquered some fears on Saturday, discovered a few other fears  (peg boards, heights and Walk the Plank) that I will be conquering. Some of my fears are works in progress and I need to figure out how not to feed them.

In the meantime I have completed three Tough Mudders  and I am planning how to complete my fourth. I don't want to weigh 245 for my next Tough Mudder, Not that the number on the scale is a measure of my worth, but I'd be a complete idiot to think this weight doesn't make it harder on my body to go up and down mountains. I am many things, but I am not a complete idiot.

So I will continue training and yes I will likely show up so often Tyler will wonder if I've moved in. I will follow a nutrition plan that will help me get leaner. As much as I think a Tough Mudder at a venue without a ski mountain might be fun, I think I might have one more go at Mount Snow in me.

Thanks for reading!