He would have been 49 years old.
I find it fitting that we receive a glorious thunderstorm on his birthday morning, instead of the beginning of another blistering day.
Thanks for the rain Tony, we miss you dearly.
Last Birthday
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Monday, June 29, 2009
There Is No Time For Puking Or Crying
That is the last thing I heard this morning before I almost lost my damn mind.
Almost, but didn't.
Back Story:
The gym had their monthly benchmark work out this morning, which was "Angie":
100 pull ups
100 push ups
100 squats
100 sit ups
I've always been slightly excited when Angie rolled in, because I could up the intensity just a little bit more, and see where I was at. I've never done Angie (or any benchmark for that matter!) as RX'd (elite, as intended non modified) until this morning.
I arrived at the gym this morning to do 100 kipping pull ups and dammit that was how my morning was going to end. And I did. It took me almost 20 minutes, my form was terrible, a large portion of them probably wouldn't have counted. However, there I was with bleeding palms, and through my brain telling me that I had to stop, I got back up on that bar and pulled as much as I could until there were no more reps left.
Some reps had large chunks of time in between as my brain waffled and I allowed the wincing to take over for a bit, knowing that the first time always hurts the worst and it was going to hurt in lots of different ways...but do not give up.
That was fucking hard. I'm going to eat some ice cream now, because, I owe myself a little coddling. That little seven year old inside me was strong today, and I thank her for not sabotaging my goal.
Almost, but didn't.
Back Story:
The gym had their monthly benchmark work out this morning, which was "Angie":
100 pull ups
100 push ups
100 squats
100 sit ups
I've always been slightly excited when Angie rolled in, because I could up the intensity just a little bit more, and see where I was at. I've never done Angie (or any benchmark for that matter!) as RX'd (elite, as intended non modified) until this morning.
I arrived at the gym this morning to do 100 kipping pull ups and dammit that was how my morning was going to end. And I did. It took me almost 20 minutes, my form was terrible, a large portion of them probably wouldn't have counted. However, there I was with bleeding palms, and through my brain telling me that I had to stop, I got back up on that bar and pulled as much as I could until there were no more reps left.
Some reps had large chunks of time in between as my brain waffled and I allowed the wincing to take over for a bit, knowing that the first time always hurts the worst and it was going to hurt in lots of different ways...but do not give up.
That was fucking hard. I'm going to eat some ice cream now, because, I owe myself a little coddling. That little seven year old inside me was strong today, and I thank her for not sabotaging my goal.
Saturday, June 27, 2009
Training for Life
This week, last year, I was sitting next to my stepfather's hospital bed every day. We were still under the impression that he had an infection in his brain, and our fears remained assuaged. The official diagnosis of stage IV secondary brain cancer didn't arrive until after brain surgery, on July 4th of all days. I was quarantined on my couch after being freshly irradiated for my thyroid, and my parents kept the news to themselves until I was safe for human contact. Thus began the beginning of his end, so to speak, and a barrage of insufferable moments for my family.
The creation of this blog was not intended to showcase workouts. My intention was to get back into art making and use this place as a means to showcase works in progress, and inspiration. I wasn't able to drink alcohol, my diet was totally different, and I was about to enter into a completely different way of being. What happened was that I became the works in progress and the workouts became my inspiration, my antidepressant, my anchor to reality.
I talk a lot about these workouts being a microcosm of daily life. Once you make it through 15 minutes of heavy, hard breathing, heart pounding, white pain workouts, everything else in your life seems easy. I am not comparing a death in the family to working out, but I am drawing parallels between stressful situations. Our bodies don't care if it is death stress or financial stress or hard workout stress, its reaction to stress is the same. Most of the time we enter lock down. The curtains are drawn, we become immobile, and this is exactly the opposite of what needs to be done.
Just days after my stepfather passed away I was back in the gym. I could feel the depression rolling in like a storm, and I knew that the most important thing for me to do was to keep moving. I had to manually induce the happy chemicals. I had to manually release my endorphins. Three days a week I showed up to the workouts and gave all that had. Some days it was a fraction of the day before, but it was still everything I had. All of the sudden it was my responsibility to produce my own happiness from within because everything surrounding me was so damn sad. There wasn't anything that was going to take that pain away, time was going to have take care of it, and all I had to do was keep holding on until that was over.
I learned then that my autopilot is fucking amazing.
Recently, a new friend asked me what I was training for and the first thing that popped into my head was: Life. I didn't say that, just shrugged my shoulders and said something about "just for fun." However, training for life is exactly what I'm doing. It doesn't get more simple than that.
The creation of this blog was not intended to showcase workouts. My intention was to get back into art making and use this place as a means to showcase works in progress, and inspiration. I wasn't able to drink alcohol, my diet was totally different, and I was about to enter into a completely different way of being. What happened was that I became the works in progress and the workouts became my inspiration, my antidepressant, my anchor to reality.
I talk a lot about these workouts being a microcosm of daily life. Once you make it through 15 minutes of heavy, hard breathing, heart pounding, white pain workouts, everything else in your life seems easy. I am not comparing a death in the family to working out, but I am drawing parallels between stressful situations. Our bodies don't care if it is death stress or financial stress or hard workout stress, its reaction to stress is the same. Most of the time we enter lock down. The curtains are drawn, we become immobile, and this is exactly the opposite of what needs to be done.
Just days after my stepfather passed away I was back in the gym. I could feel the depression rolling in like a storm, and I knew that the most important thing for me to do was to keep moving. I had to manually induce the happy chemicals. I had to manually release my endorphins. Three days a week I showed up to the workouts and gave all that had. Some days it was a fraction of the day before, but it was still everything I had. All of the sudden it was my responsibility to produce my own happiness from within because everything surrounding me was so damn sad. There wasn't anything that was going to take that pain away, time was going to have take care of it, and all I had to do was keep holding on until that was over.
I learned then that my autopilot is fucking amazing.
Recently, a new friend asked me what I was training for and the first thing that popped into my head was: Life. I didn't say that, just shrugged my shoulders and said something about "just for fun." However, training for life is exactly what I'm doing. It doesn't get more simple than that.
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Double Unders, Check
After months of failed attempts, yours truly nailed some double unders this morning.
I did not look nearly as graceful as homeboy in the video, but I'm not going to be picky about this one. This victory was a wee Crossfit cupcake, and I had a little party in my mind about it. There are some very large milestones coming up, which I will squeal like a kid when they occur, however, sometimes they come on so fast there isn't any time to declare the momentous occasion. All you can do is say to yourself, as you are transitioning into another exercise, "shit, I just did that thing I never thought I could do." Commence heart being filled with proud...
Workout pal Stacy Doyle got her first big girl jump on the 20" box and she did it without really thinking. Thinking, while lovely, can stop a person dead in their tracks for no good reason. She popped up there before the workout started and did an ohmygoodnesswhatthehelljusthappened dance, not realizing that she had the ability to get 20" of pure air up onto that box all along. That's how a lot of these little milestones are achieved. You just have to do it. Stop thinking. And. Just. Go.
One that I have been dancing around the last six weeks is this feeling that radiates up from my core when I am really pushing myself. It's not a pain or a pinch, but a fluttery sensation and as it starts to well up, I stop whatever I'm doing because frankly, I'm still a little freaked out by it. My instincts tell me that it is not a dangerous thing or a line that I shouldn't cross. It is a line I need to cross if I want to go up a level in these workouts. That's the place where I shave two minutes off my time and the thoughts disappear. So why am I dancing around it and not smack dab in the center, rolling around like a pig in shit?
Because just like that first successful box jump, and double under, and pull up, and real push up, there is no turning back once you hit that tier. You've just established your new "normal" and that can be daunting. I'm going to continue to flirt with that fluttery guts feeling (doesn't it sound cool?) for the next week or so, and then dive in head first.
Congrats Stacey Doyle! I hope you have an ear to ear smile because of that jump all day long.....
I did not look nearly as graceful as homeboy in the video, but I'm not going to be picky about this one. This victory was a wee Crossfit cupcake, and I had a little party in my mind about it. There are some very large milestones coming up, which I will squeal like a kid when they occur, however, sometimes they come on so fast there isn't any time to declare the momentous occasion. All you can do is say to yourself, as you are transitioning into another exercise, "shit, I just did that thing I never thought I could do." Commence heart being filled with proud...
Workout pal Stacy Doyle got her first big girl jump on the 20" box and she did it without really thinking. Thinking, while lovely, can stop a person dead in their tracks for no good reason. She popped up there before the workout started and did an ohmygoodnesswhatthehelljusthappened dance, not realizing that she had the ability to get 20" of pure air up onto that box all along. That's how a lot of these little milestones are achieved. You just have to do it. Stop thinking. And. Just. Go.
One that I have been dancing around the last six weeks is this feeling that radiates up from my core when I am really pushing myself. It's not a pain or a pinch, but a fluttery sensation and as it starts to well up, I stop whatever I'm doing because frankly, I'm still a little freaked out by it. My instincts tell me that it is not a dangerous thing or a line that I shouldn't cross. It is a line I need to cross if I want to go up a level in these workouts. That's the place where I shave two minutes off my time and the thoughts disappear. So why am I dancing around it and not smack dab in the center, rolling around like a pig in shit?
Because just like that first successful box jump, and double under, and pull up, and real push up, there is no turning back once you hit that tier. You've just established your new "normal" and that can be daunting. I'm going to continue to flirt with that fluttery guts feeling (doesn't it sound cool?) for the next week or so, and then dive in head first.
Congrats Stacey Doyle! I hope you have an ear to ear smile because of that jump all day long.....
Friday, June 5, 2009
The Resurrection
Today was supposed to be my final doctor's appointment for the next six months.
I was confident.
I have been feeling amazing.
My last two lab reports have been perfect.
And then....
The nurse handed me my labs this morning and my TSH level was in the red zone.
WHAT?!?! NOW?!?! But...my thyroid...is...dead? Like a renegade zombie hand reaching through the grave, that little .1 reading swathed in pink grabbed me by the ankles and solidified another eight months of monitoring and medication adjustments. Damn!
I'm hyperthyroid again. Not by much. It's actually a miniscule amount compared to the levels I have been at. My doctor reassured me that I will never return to my original hyperthyroid state, that would be impossible, but that I needed to be wary of palpitations and overheating. Crap!
So it's back to the goitrogen foods diet, which I was so happy to leave behind when my thyroid hormone started normalizing (with the help of meds). No avocado or coconut. Gah!
This should slip on like an old glove. I know exactly how to operate under these conditions, the trial period is over. I am, however, slightly irritated at the tenacity of my thyroid gland.
On another note....
I'm doing pull ups. Like, actually, really, with strength and grace, doing pull ups. I'm going to think about that while I quietly mourn the disappearance of avocado from my life for the next four weeks.
(Insert heavy sigh)
I was confident.
I have been feeling amazing.
My last two lab reports have been perfect.
And then....
The nurse handed me my labs this morning and my TSH level was in the red zone.
WHAT?!?! NOW?!?! But...my thyroid...is...dead? Like a renegade zombie hand reaching through the grave, that little .1 reading swathed in pink grabbed me by the ankles and solidified another eight months of monitoring and medication adjustments. Damn!
I'm hyperthyroid again. Not by much. It's actually a miniscule amount compared to the levels I have been at. My doctor reassured me that I will never return to my original hyperthyroid state, that would be impossible, but that I needed to be wary of palpitations and overheating. Crap!
So it's back to the goitrogen foods diet, which I was so happy to leave behind when my thyroid hormone started normalizing (with the help of meds). No avocado or coconut. Gah!
This should slip on like an old glove. I know exactly how to operate under these conditions, the trial period is over. I am, however, slightly irritated at the tenacity of my thyroid gland.
On another note....
I'm doing pull ups. Like, actually, really, with strength and grace, doing pull ups. I'm going to think about that while I quietly mourn the disappearance of avocado from my life for the next four weeks.
(Insert heavy sigh)
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