Tag: communication

fitness and nutrition

The Days After

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As a follow up to my experience post, I figured I would document the soreness I alluded to at the end of the post. The aches and pains are real the day after the big competition. That’s how you know you pushed your limits. When muscles hurt that you didn’t know were firing during your adrenaline-rushed day.

You may see a stiffness erupting late in the day you compete. This is just the beginning. Then you rest the night and wake up with everything tight. You need to move to loosen your body even though you feel like you should stay in bed all day. For first timers this is a whole new level of sore.

Remember we had teen athletes in our group. They would say they were in shape yet one struggled to lift their arm over her head while the other said my legs are anchors when I run. I would say their bodies would bounce back quicker than mine at age almost 50 but maybe I have built up a higher pain tolerance with age.

As you loosen you feel better but simple things like bending over, sitting on the toilet or reaching for something can really push your limits. Again it’s a new level of achy tightness. A good night’s sleep again will help tremendously. The texts from other athletes read: I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck. I’m only at 50% but I moved today. I’m still sore. Communication is key in the recovery process as well to see how your gym mates are doing or to share in the woes or to make sure nothing major is surfacing.

2nd full day post-comp you normally have areas that have improved tremendously but may have lingering soreness. For me it was my quads. They improved a ton but in/out of the car was an effort. A deeper squat of any sorts showed my soreness. I leveraged Aleve at some points as well as essential oils and my quads liked the repair gel in the photo below. 

As an athlete recovery is important. Movement is also important. I didn’t skip activities rather I scaled them back during my recovery to speed up my healing overall. Or that was the plan anyway.

Today I will play tennis and see how my body fares. Specifically my quads. Yesterday the motion of the bike erg was refreshing and achy all in one but I still got it done. I may have written about recovery in the past however each comp has varied workouts thus the recovery varies, meaning my soreness may be disbursed over different areas of my body.

I am still thankful for my experience despite the soreness. I’d do it again and again as well. Have a great day and think of me as I’m recovering.

awareness, challenges

Jail Time Revisited

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Recently I had the opportunity to experience a county jail with an added twist. I’ve written about visiting the jail before as a contractor recounting an inside view. I visited the exterior as part of a jail run a few years back that included running the officer obstacle training course (so much fun) and the campus which bordered the barbed wire fences and guard towers. Both experiences were memorable and offered different views of the same place.

Over the past week I had yet another view. An unexpected view. I needed to try to visit an inmate. What started out as a simple endeavor ended up extremely complex. So many things I didn’t know, didn’t expect or just couldn’t wrap my arms around.
The first big blow is no in-person visitors which is the exact opposite of the county website, which states visitation Mon-Fri and Sat/Sun for under 18. I guess they are still under COVID protocols even though most other places are not. This was funny in itself as you don’t  need a mask to enter the jail but you can’t visit. The next option is a fee-based video visit, but figuring this option out almost requires an IT degree and a lot of patience.

That’s right. Get the app. Download the app. Set up a user ID. Add funds. Upload identification documents to prove who you are. Now wait. Wait until somebody in an office somewhere approves you. This took three days in my case. Once you have access, you can schedule a call. I almost forgot you need to deposit more money for the call and pay more service fees. Just when you think you are at the finish line you have to be patient again. It seems the schedule is not the same day. That means you wait longer and the person inside has no idea how hard you are trying to make contact. Big sigh.

What’s the other option? Send a letter. I was told happy mail is very uplifting. Okay, what’s the address? Well the address you mail to is far away. It has to be sorted to make sure there is no contraband. Well over the holiday, mail delays, etc. would lead me to believe this would be another dead end.

How about a phone call? Can the person make a call? Only if they have money they tell me. How do they get money? Glad you asked. There is a jail ATM. Never seen one of those before. You have to upload your picture, your social security number, address and so much more. Then you can pay money and exorbitant fees. Again, it’s not instant. It takes a day to process and the funds need to be deposited by 8am. That means if you put money in the ATM on Sunday at 4pm the inmate won’t see it until Tuesday after 8am. Delays galore.

Four days it takes to get any form of contact. This provides so much insight into what folks deal with when they are immersed in the jail system. I can’t even imagine if my parent was in jail, how a young adult could handle all the chaos associated with saying hi to somebody who probably needs some extra support during their incarceration.
This experience has taught me I for sure don’t ever want to spend time in jail. I also don’t want to have to visit anyone I know in jail. I like my freedom too much. I like to choose what I do and when I do it. I thought visiting somebody in an assisted living facility was hard in the heart of the pandemic however I would definitely say visiting a jail is 1000x harder current day. 

With mental health issues challenging society today, it is bothersome to me that inmates lose not only their freedom but their ability to get compassionate care. I define compassion to include communication with willing visitors vs. starving them of hope and friendly faces.

in summary, I’d always tell somebody think carefully about actions or inactions that can land one in jail. It’s not a place I’d recommend at all.

celebrations, fitness and nutrition

The Experience

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Not too long ago I wrote about my upcoming CrossFit competition and my lack of preparedness. Today is the follow up which will summarize the experience because that’s what I decided it was. An experience that I will cherish for many years to come.

Let’s start with being fortunate. I am fortunate that at just shy of 50 I can compete at a high level and put myself out there in front of many. I am also happy that I get to share that experience with not only my friends but my youngest daughter. That in itself makes the experience more powerful and memorable. We did the same moves. We struggled together. We cheered together. We were a team although not on a team together. Just a day with my mini. 

Although this isn’t our first time competing together, it is always an adventure. New location. New moves. New competitors. New everything. I get to see her work through fears. I get to see her reach new heights. Sometimes I even see her coaching others who could be older than her. It’s a fun sight to see. I can truly say she grows with each event.

The day didn’t always go as planned. I started out workout one with strength but ripped my hands pretty good about 4 minutes into the 10-minute workout. I’m never good at working on the bar with my grip but when my hands ripped everything moved in slow motion except the pain. That was front and center. The suffering was over quick enough but how would the rest of the day go since I needed my hands. Luckily I pushed through. Of course I was the only one who ripped. Just my luck.

The day was long but so many giggles and milestones. My partner and I killed our box over and snatch workout. It’s the one I’d say we were most prepared for. This little bit of success helped us push through the afternoon. This workout was also the one my daughter and her partner did amazing at. Maybe even the fastest time of the day. Two little teens moving like they had fire on their feet. It was so exciting to witness. Team bonding. Team unity. True partnership. I was right there front and center to experience all of it.

Lunch break was fun, too. Chairs in the parking lot. Food trucks. Snacks galore. Chats with friends. Wardrobe changes. Selfie time for many. Just good clean fun. About this time a few non-participants showed up to cheer everyone on. That was just very cool. People took a long drive on a Saturday to cheer on friends and gym pals. This was amazing but this is CrossFit. Community. Like minded people coming together to unite around fitness. I will remember this because it was as a connection of people that went beyond the walls of a home base or gym.

The next workout was harsh. 12 minutes of repetitive moves requiring teamwork, communication and true grit. No real rest time. Pure adrenaline pumping in the body. Fatigue like you didn’t think was possible. You glance at the clock. It’s five minutes into 12 minutes. Will the workout ever end? Can I continue? So much runs through your mind. Are you contributing equal work as a partner? Is this a test? I survived my 12 minutes that felt like they would never end, but now it’s my daughter’s turn. I led by example. I gave hints for success. Will she listen? I mean she is a bullheaded teen. Will her age and inexperience hinder her? The day after post online noted below shows the confirmation of others thinking that 12 minutes was brutal!

The clock began. The battle with self ensued. Her partner was showing signs of weakness early on. She saw it. She didn’t want to accommodate her needs but she had no choice. Both were competing. They battled hard. They leaned on each other when they wanted to scream at each other. What a sight to see. In the end they persevered. It was such a sight to see. The after math was not so fun. The fatigue and anger showed their nasty side. This is part of the process.

The competition was nearing an end. A five minute workout remained. A simple one but so hard at the end of the day after all the athletes had endured. The power went out. The struggle with self continued on many levels for many athletes. You can’t quit now. The roar of the crowd gets you over the finish line. We did it. We came. We battled. We conquered ourselves. We left a little stronger. We gained a little respect for others. We enjoyed the experience from a-z.

This is CrossFit. Many say why do you do it? I do it for the fitness first and foremost. I do it for the friendships and community. I do it for the experiences. Competing takes all of that to a whole different level. It teaches you how to adapt. How to overcome. How to face adversity. How to smile. How to push through. These lessons crossover in life daily.

Our collective group of athletes hit the jackpot today. We all medaled. Not because of a low turnout but because we worked hard and did the best we could that day. There was a soon to be married couple in the mix. The doctor and the mid-twenties guy. Two sets of aged athletes in the masters category. Two teens. A wife and young adult combo. Such a diverse group.

This was a great experience. One to be shared. It is my hope that somebody reading this feels inspired to to try something new. Maybe it’s a new fitness routine. Maybe it’s just stepping outside their comfort zone to see what life can offer.

Enjoy today. I know I will. For tomorrow I will be sore. A sore like no other.

author moments

Content

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Writing is interesting. Sometimes I write in my journal. Sometimes I write on sticky notes. Sometimes it’s thoughts and ideas in my iPhone notepad. Often times I write in cards. Many times I write on my hand as a reminder. Then of course there is this blog. It’s all content of sorts. What is contained in the written document. But since I like words, I am ever so content with writing and the process involved in each step.

Many different forms of writing or typing. Many different moods or mindsets are involved when writing. Many different people, places and topic spur my interest to write. Some writings are for my eyes only. Some writings I share with my writing partner. Some just sit for future use. Some get published on this blog. Some are seeds planted for future books. As a story teller it’s important to share. The share part of writing is where it gets real.

When you are young you turn in your best writings for grades. Teacher marks it up for punctuation, grammar, and the key components such as a start, middle and end. Sometimes that feedback is received well, others not so much. It’s a learning process. As we age the task of writings are usually more defined. The polishing process takes place. Some go from good to great while others just get by.

As adults we write. We write notes to school for our kids. We write to do lists. We write emails. We write business letters or proposals. We might even be the one guiding younger writers in some way through teachings. The point is to write. Don’t lose sight of writing. It’s therapeutic in ways but it’s also communication.

Some people struggle to verbally express themselves. Maybe they lack courage or confidence for a face to face discussion. Taking pen to paper allows for drafting, revisions, thoughts, and think again scenarios. Words are powerful. Writing is documenting that power. I enjoy the reflection point of writing especially within this blog as well.

A time stamp. An evolution of where I was. What I was doing. Who was along for the journey. Who wasn’t. Many details. It also shows highs, lows, and everything in between in life. A brutally honest portayer from my line of sight. Feelings, emotions, celebrations, struggles, loss and so much more.

I would have never thought in my teens that I would enjoy writing the way I do now. Maybe it was a plan to write a book hatched years ago on a whim. Maybe it was a crazy pal who sparked the word passion in me. Maybe it was just what was meant to be.

For now I am here doing me. Writing away. Enjoying the time I spend to share my words with others. One day I may be a New York Times best seller or not. It doesn’t matter to me. That’s not my goal. My goal is to write. Whether I type or use pen to paper, I’m choosing to write for others.

A passion. A purpose. Unique to me. No teacher or professional can tell it’s good or bad. It’s mine, all mine. My artistry. My story. My evolution. My ink. My style. And boy does that style bend, flex, pivot, shift and rewind often. Never the same. Never dull. Always progressive. I’m documenting how one lives life to the fullest or the fullest in my eyes.

My content makes me content. Does that sink in with you? At 3am when I’m sleepless. At 3pm when I need a break from the daily hustle: freedom to write the content. Personal choice to post the content. 100 percent chance of being content with me and my writings.

Just a rant worth sharing on this chilly 5 am morning. As a fun tidbit to readers, this is a post I will future date. Sometime ahead. I’ll glance at it again to see if I have any additions or deletions. I may opt to postpone again if the timing doesn’t seem right. Nonetheless I will revisit this rant or story of mine and reflect on where my mind was when I was in this writing space. Just sharing some of the behind the scenes process that many would never think about.

Since you were thinking just now. How about asking yourself if you would be able to log the world and share you soul with a stranger? 

Enjoy your day.

mental health, perspective

Whispers

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There were whispers amongst the group. Who will go? Who will stay? Where is so and so going? When will this shift happen? Why?

The Who. The What. The Where. The Why. The story of the W’s. The story isn’t really just about those W’s. It’s about the whispers. The W word most don’t fess up to. And while we mention whispers, it’s really not nice to whisper (period).

Why do people whisper? Why does another’s choice matter? In a recent conversation with my teen, the sexual choice of a young adult came up. Two sisters, twins by birth. One openly gay. One not. The openly gay announcement was recent. The backlash from parents and community was negative and far reaching. Why? The whispers. 

Does that young adult’s choice impact me directly? No. Why do I hear the whispers? It’s society. Preconceived values and expectations. Religious beliefs also play a role. So overwhelming for a young adult to process let alone live through it. Why would one stay and suffer? 

Then there is the sports field. The girl whose parents think she is a star but grossly overlooked. The parents complain. Again and again. The coach gives in. Play time is awarded to offer peace. The team suffers. Did this really just happen? Another child earned their spot. Their parent doesn’t complain. There are whispers. One leaves. One stays. Why? The whispers again. 

The shift in social setting. The friend that moves out of the circle. Just for space or personal growth. Is it a bad thing to focus on one’s growth? Of course not but the circle may take it personal and then whispers begin. Awkward to some. Stressful to others. Whispers are not nice I tell you.

Is it not obvious?  The whisperers can’t see that decisions are made because of actions made by others in most cases. Solo trips in any of the situations above may seem scary but yet they are the best option. If one stays in any situations noted above, the individual(s) will suffer. Taking a stand silently or through some form action shows strength. Inner peace. Confidence. The strength of flying solo and not caring what others whisper about.

For those who whisper, think about it. How would like to be on the other side of the whispers? 
Are you the whispering type of person or the one who steps out and flies solo when the need arises?