3 am came too early for the girl who likes to sleep past 7 am on the daily and even later on the weekend.
What was different? A few things, but nothing serious. Tired, of course. Just unable to sleep. Maybe too much caffeine before bed? Was it a restless night? Not so much. Just a good old case of she can’t sleep. Now. Today. At all. Talk about frustrating!
Not hungry. Not thirsty. Not angry. Not unsettled. Not hyped for a trip or a meeting or a big work deal, nothing. Not a thing to weigh one down. Insomnia. Just insomnia. Toss. Turn. Peek at the clock. Take deep breaths. Count to 20. Listen to the soft sounds of doggies breathing. All so peaceful…but sleep is still miles away. Hate to see what my whoop says tomorrow or today about my overnight recovery. The yawns get heavier but still the sleep doesn’t follow. Day breaks and as predicted, the whoop insists sleep is needed! Just a confirmation of what I already knew.
Visits to dreamland are short. Then longer visits seem deeper yet disturbing content causes me to wake. Unexpected. Sleep deprived: no stormy weather just stormy sleep; a long day awaits this tired soul.
A day outdoors with the sun on her face adds to the exhaustion. Will a late afternoon nap help offset the tiredness? Would a wind down cocktail be better? Who’s to know the exact recipe to support the exhausted. Minutes in daytime seem as long as the endless minutes overnight. Hungry every couple of hours. Snapping at co-workers. Attention drifts. Not quite firing on all cylinders. Body feeling heavy. When is bedtime again?
This fiasco starts again as the new night begins. Eye masks. Extra blankets. Blankets pulled up just right. Reading for a few minutes. Nothing could soothe the soul of the tired one. Maybe it’s time to count sheep? Lullabies?
It was 54 days ago I decided to make a commitment to complete a partner WOD competition. 4 workouts. 1 day. Burpees involved. Running required. Two of my least favorite gym moves and both double as slowest movements. Nonetheless I decided to commit to the event and work to strengthen my weaknesses.
I started documenting the process straight of of the gate. I’m using my whoop to maximize my heavy training days as well as capitalize on days I need rest. So far the process is on track. I have my benchmark times for the run and I’m looking to work hard over the next 50 days to build my endurance and trim my run time while watching my heart rate. Of course I also want to stay injury free as well.
Chipping away little by little. 3 seconds, 8 seconds all adds up in time. Running is not my strength so just don’t zoom in to the picture, but of course it will be better as the competition gets closer.
Next weakness is burpees. I can do 5 unbroken. I can squeeze out 8 unbroken if I push myself. However, 9, 10, 11, and 12 seem like I’m moving in slow motion. It could be mental. It could be my lack of practice. It could be my dislike of the movement. It could even be my limited mobility. No matter what the cause or excuse I’m working on finishing 12 in record speed each round under fatigue! No small task, but if it were easy everyone would do it. At this point I’m consistent on my speed round to round. Now I just need to fine tune my movement.
While I chip away at improving my run, my stamina, and my burpee performance I just also need to loosen my hips and stretch for me to be able to break parallel about 60 times while throwing wallballs to a target several feet above me. Yeah me. Not sure why I sign up to torture myself, but I do.
30 days out. Jump rope is in hand to see how many I can complete in a minute. So far the consistent number is around 120-122. Finding a focal point, breathing and syncing into a rhythm is what I need to master.
Roping, I might even have music blasting to drown out redundancy factors that surface repeatedly in 1 minute.
In the middle of training I also have the pleasure of working through a knee injury. I’m not medically qualified to diagnose the exact injury but it was fluid around the knee. Uncomfortable. Limited mobility. Lots of Aleve. Ice. A little rest. Modifications to movements to keep the training going. The introduction to a new band to work on the problem area with tension was a game changer. A little pain never hurt anyone but high heels really were not on the agenda while I worked out my pains and inflammation.
All in all training was good. It gave me a goal to work toward. It made me focus on some weaker moves. My whoop helped me identify opportunities to add more strain some days or to train a little differently to maximize my overall conditioning and training. Managing my heart rate under fatigue to know what my body was capable of was key, too. Not sure what I will work towards after this competition but it will be something to feed my hunger for training and competition.
As an added bonus I had a 12-pound personal best on my bench press mid-training. Must be all the burpees and push ups I added into to my training. Crossover benefits are a bonus no matter how you look at it. 142 pound bench press for the gold star today.
Look for the results of the competition in the coming days if I desire to write about it.
Sounds cute and innocent enough…a 20-mile “fun ride” through central Georgia. Part of the State Banana Pudding Festival. Pudding at all the rest stops! A pudding tasting at the festival! Banana carving! What’s not to love?
There was a 20 mile and a 40 mile option. People asked me what I was doing…funny. Even 20 miles would be about 7 miles longer than I had ever biked. There were maybe 20 of us, total. 5 doing 40 miles, 15 doing 20. Some chit chat at the start line…quite a few of us were new to this event, but nearly all had much nicer gear and bikes than I did. Several wore fancy kits advertising their distance races. Most were also my age or older. Friendly. After all, we weren’t competing.
Straight out of the gate there was a huge downhill. I thought to myself, we are going to pay for this with some big ups.
How right I was! What followed was mile after mile of mostly huge hills. Every turn had me holding my breath and often shaking my head in disbelief. Another ?!^&@# hill!!!
The 40 milers and some of the more experienced cyclists were long gone as I steady pedaled up the first few hills. A couple of older women who had come together took a number of breaks on the side of the rural roads so I kept in touch with them. Finally at one point I turned around to see several people about 50 yards behind me along with the police safety vehicle that signifies the back of the pack. I’m doing ok, I thought. Just keep moving.
Up and down. Up and down. At one point I just get off the bike and walk it up the last part of the hill. My back and my saddle soreness told me it was fine to take a little break. At one point people pass me and then I hear the sound of the car over my shoulder. It would be over my shoulder for the remainder of the miles. Kind of taunting me. Once in a while tempting me. Others had given up, hoisted their bikes and climbed in. Put themselves out of the slow rolling pain of endless hills. Should I?
I’ll spare you the pain of all the inner doubt and dialogue. I knew I was too stubborn to give up. Yes, every time I would get off the bike to walk some horrible uphill they would pull up next to me to see if I was ok. Always the answer: “yes” with a smile and a thank you. Even with the headwinds of a storm blowing in. Even after an hour and a half with no mile markers and not a bowl of pudding in sight, I kept going.
We did finally get to the pudding stop. There was just one. The rest of the 20 mile group was there, sitting and snacking on pudding and sandwiches and nilla wafers and orange slices. We all pulled out together a few minutes later. I learned we just had about 7 miles to go, with a few more horrible uphills between me and the finish line.
It took forever, it seemed. Me and the sweep truck just puttering along. One hill had me so mad I started hyperventilating. But I had to calm down… “You didn’t come this far to just come this far,” I told myself. “Finish it. Finish it. Finish it.” Counting my pedals from 1-100 just to focus on getting. up, the, hill.
And at long last, I did finish. The finish line was nothing special. In fact, people kept saying “just keep going,” then eventually I was riding into the festival crowd and I turned around. The follower vehicles were gone. No finish line, no bowl of pudding, no cheers or way to gos. I just got off my bike and sat on the ground for a minute. Shaking my head. Shaking all over, really. What just happened? I finished.
This may have been the hardest physical thing I had ever done. I had to work harder than I wanted for longer than I wanted because there was someone just over my shoulder, waiting for me to quit. No stops for photos or scenery. Just a fight through pretty much every single mile.
I am stubborn, that is for sure. I can endure pain and discomfort for as long as I need to. I can keep going. I can sustain. I don’t have to satisfy anyone but myself.
A bucket list activity turned into a one-and-done. A few bites of pudding and many sore muscles and memories. Sometimes the things you look forward to contain tests and challenges you don’t anticipate or imagine. But pushing through them is its own gift. It leaves you with a sense of achievement. And a plan to improve.
It was a rainy and overall stormy morning. Thunder, lightning, flooding, loud booms. The list keeps on going. Then after the clouds faded the sun appeared. A mid-70s kind of day. Clear blue sky above. The sun casting its warmth upon those below.
Fresh warmth on the skin. Rays to soak up the moisture in the grass. A slight breeze to keep outdoor time manageable. A quick soak in the hot tub was just what the doctor ordered. Pure bliss and relaxation. Peaceful sounds of the outdoors. Not a care in the world for that time. Just a little sunshine, water and and a slight breeze to to call the afternoon perfect. I had plenty of chores and work to do, but I opted for that can wait until later.
Time to dry off under the cover of the porch but with the sun on my back. A different kind of warmth. A different kind of peaceful. The breeze picked up a bit. The trees howled a little. Then they died down again. The birds chirped away. The bees were a-buzzing. The sounds of nature. About a year I wrote about porch sitting in a row house in Louisville, KY. This story is a good bit different as it’s coming to you from Hotlanta, Ga this time.
No cars passing by. No city noises. No extra people passing by. A little more secluded. A different kind of peaceful enjoyment. Sometimes it’s great to connect with the outdoors. No matter what your porch looks like or where you are located, a little sun and surroundings can provide the mind and body with some restoration. A new perspective on the same old space. A new view based on the day, the weather, the overall surroundings.
What started out as a yucky weather day ended up full of vitamin D and relaxation. The outdoors beats the couch most days, although a winter’s day of Netflix binge watching is a close second. Enjoy your day today wherever you are. Think about the outdoors and see if you can find a way to enjoy your version of sunshine today.
No photos for this post. Hoping you can visualize my day in paradise simply by reading along.
Was year 7 a lucky year? No. It was however the 7th consecutive year for me to participate in the CrossFit Open. I’m still fittish. I’m still fabulous. I’m still as competitive as I was when I was just 12 years old.
Year 7 was a defining year. A year I didn’t let fear hold me back. A year to redefine myself within my personal scope of CrossFit today. This year I am visiting the gym 3-4 days a week as compared to a solid 6 days a week a few years ago. I’m a little thicker. I’m a little less flexible. I’m a little more cautious vs. reckless.
I do other things now, whether I’m playing tennis a few days a week or just squeezing in a workout in my shred shed to stay active. With that being said I didn’t miss the chance to compete in the CrossFit Open. Why would I? I have a seven year streak going. I may even have a goal to see how many years I can do it.
I participated scaled which was okay for me as I wasn’t working on the advanced gymnastics movements all year, but I could garner the strength to participate scaled. I scaled like a boss and owned each workout the best I could. I had fun. I did better than expected in most cases. All in all I am happy to be continuing to compete each year.
The workouts are always different. The people around you may change but the competitive edge really lies within you. I’ve been an athlete all my life. I have competed at high levels across many sports over the years. The common denominator is competition for me. I like to compete. I like to compete in many areas of life and sports allows me to hone my skills and discipline myself.
As you can see below I test my brain each morning with Wordle. I compete with friends near and far. A digital challenge each morning. A competition bright and early in the day to spark the competitive edge we all have. Some days it’s easy. Some days it’s frustrating. Some days I lose. Today I was a little lucky. Some friends start with the same word. I choose a new word daily. I guess I like change and that simple word change is something I control each morning. Instead of being cautious I’m risking change thus competing with myself.
I compete with myself on the daily however having national leaderboards is a great way to see how you stack up to others around the world. I’m not the elite athlete by any means and I don’t care to be. I care to be me, an athlete. A masters athlete. A scaled athlete. A long-term competitor. I’m an endurance athlete. I’m enduring the test of time. How long can I stay fit enough to compete at whatever level my body and mind wants to. I adapt. I adjust. I realign my expectations now and again.
Some days I may be in the masters age class for CrossFit while other days I’m in the muck of it all with an 18 year old. On the tennis courts I may play in the senior league but then the next day play in 18 and older league. Each scenario may be different with players and abilities but it’s still competitive. Your mind still needs to react to the environment. One must persevere against whatever the odds are. Being an athlete also has highs and lows. Winning days and losing days. The point is I still compete and give my all in whatever level competition I am in and whether or not I win a prize.
I don’t register for the local 5k to be #1 in my age group. I do it to say I competed. I do it to be amongst other like-minded people who chose fitness. Environment matters. Getting out with others can be key for many who many suffer in their own silent ways. Remember that you don’t have to be #1 to be an athlete. You need to train to be an athlete. Training is a repetitive action.
Today at my gym I worked out along side a young guy in a wheelchair. He adapts every movement for him even though we do the same class. Next to me is a teenager. She is getting her conditioning in for her high school off season. Different levels, same focus on fitness. Making time to work at our levels.
My body gets stiffer these days. My body needs extra time stretching. Once I make my adjustments I can still work just as hard as others. I’m just adjusting to the newer version of me which is actually the older version of me. Tweaking what needs adjusting along the way.
When I look back at these seven years in the Open, I can see how far I have come. I can see where I could go. I can see how many people quit while I stayed on the path. I can see how much my fit life has impacted others around me. My mental strength has grown from all the moments I spent on the gym floor in near tears for making another rep. My emotional strength has skyrocketed as it goes hand and hand with my mental prowess. Physically I have hit ups and downs but I am super strong in comparison to many my age and for that I am hopeful for the future. The future of me. How long I endure. How I forge ahead.
If you have never competed on a national level, try it. Maybe your sport is chess. Maybe it’s pickle ball. Whatever the sport see how you fare. Competition is a strength in all parts of life. We all compete for tomorrow when it’s never guaranteed. Staying competitive in life or competing helps one prepare for those days that you need the physical, mental and emotional strength to see tomorrow.
I am an athlete.
An athlete in mind, body and spirit.
I have trained for years.
I did the work.
I continue to work each day. This is what an athlete does. They train continuously. It’s my opinion that athletes make great leaders. They understand sacrifice. They know how to work hard. They appreciate mental toughness. They can balance when needed in life. They are built to endure.
The photo above showing me upside down is fascinating to those who don’t workout. It takes a lot to go upside down. Confidence. Strength. Determination. Power more than finesse. Practice. Failures. Courage. So much behind the scenes of this photo, yet I am proud to say that at 51 years old I can go upside down. Maybe that’s another goal to see how many more years I can go upside down.
2 Chicks and a blog 