Benchmark

Thoughts generated by a benchmark:

I've been CrossFitting for about 16 months.  I made it through those first few months only by gritting my teeth and manufacturing quasi-determination to move forward. Each time I walked through the gym door, my heart raced, I became short of breath, and I had mild nausea - due simply to the load of insecurity I was carrying on my shoulders. I felt pathetically weak and was afraid I'd never get past the weakness. I was confused by the language and embarrassed by my awkwardness.

I still have insecurities and weaknesses but I'm not so fearful of having them exposed.  Hiding behind my ego/self-doubt is a recipe for failure. I've learned that accepting my awkwardness is paramount to developing technique.  I listen very, VERY carefully to coaching instruction. With time and dedication to getting up and going to the gym, my strength, endurance, and attitude has improved.

I've become friends with physical discomfort while also becoming friends with my 6AM workout buddies. All of this is good for this shy person who spent over 50 years comforted by isolation. I'm part of a community in and out of the gym.

In November I saw an Orthopedic Surgeon to address a problem I'd been kind-of-sort-of ignoring. My chronically moderate knee pain was more severe and was limiting daily activities. Walking was painful. Climbing stairs was painful. Descending stairs was excruciating. I was in pain at work and while I fitfully slept. 

I went to the Xray department the morning of my appointment and was then placed in an exam room to await the doctor. Having read a few films in my life, I knew what I was seeing when she swung the monitor around and asked me to "take a look". There's no missing the obvious signs of arthritis in a joint. All the pain I'd been dealing with now made perfect sense. I got the advice I expected and a prescription I didn't. 

After a few days, the flare began to wane and I contacted my coaches to let them know I was coming back and I'd appreciate their help in modifying my program for continued progress while protecting my knees from further damage. It's been a trip back to feeling:

Weak

Awkward

Insecure

While my class does squats, I can't. While my class runs, I can't. My jumprope is collecting dust. I am, however: rowing more, using the ski erg more, and getting a lot of upper body work. At the white board, I'm thinking through possible modifications and my conversations with the coaches feel more collaborative now. We're working together to make this successful.  I'm reading more about mobility and do more work at home than ever before. Taking ownership of my fitness has been a wonderful gift.

So, to the benchmark. Yesterday the WOD was front squats. A lot of them. Obviously, I'd need to do something completely different. I asked the coach if I could work on my deadlift. He kept an eye on me during the workout and although I was in my own zone, I was still participating along with everyone else. All these months of listening VERY carefully to instruction paid off yesterday. I took my time and worked up to a 200 pound deadlift. So, so, so excited.

Here's where things get interesting. (At least they do to me.) I downplayed my accomplishment when a couple people congratulated me on my PR. I literally shrugged and said, "Not bad for an old lady" and "I know you lift way more than that."  What?!? Why do I do this to myself? 

Circle back to my first paragraph. "...due simply to the load of insecurity I was carrying on my shoulders." That load is heavy as hell.  Imagine how much more I'll be able to lift when I set that load down. I'm on the fence about resolutions - not sure if they're all that helpful but today I'll make a couple for the upcoming year. I resolve to recognize insecurity, acknowledge it, and get on with what I need to do. I also resolve to value accomplishments: Mine and ours. They have meaning and they have weight.

Lesson Gainz

It seemed simple enough to me.  Six rounds of twelve calories on the Assault Bike followed by twelve jumping pull ups followed by a minute of rest.  I was biking as a substitute for running four hundred meters.  The pull-ups were to be done without stopping.  If I stopped that set my number to achieve for the next round.

OK.

3.2.1.Go!

Twelve calories - not so bad.  I don't love the bike but running sets me up for pain and dysfunction the following day.  I moved over to the pull up bar, stepped onto the box and went to work.  At four I was starting to fatigue. After five I stopped.  Five out of twelve.  Not great but it is what it is. Rest one minute.

And..."Michelle!!!"  My Coach was yelling at me from across the gym.  Really yelling.  He asked me what I was doing.  He told me what I had done was bullshit.  He went on to let me know I didn't need chalk for jumping pull ups.  He watched me do twelve and then addressed my RPMs on the bike.  I needed to go faster.

He was right.

As a distance runner, I spent years pacing myself to a very slow pace.  My goal was to finish not to finish fast.  I started my running career (in my forty's) rarely breaking a sub-nine mile.  I finished my running career happy to coast along at thirteen minute miles for hours.  Hours.

Occasionally CrossFit calls for pacing.  If you've got several longish distances (none of them are really THAT long) in a workout, you don't (generally) go all out from the start.  You use your energy wisely so you'll have something left in the tank to finish.  Usually, though, the pace is fast and borders on furious.

I've been working on getting my head around this.  I have a thousand reasons to be slower than everyone else.  I'm middle-aged creeping up on Senior status.  I carry more pounds of fat than I should.  I have chronic joint injuries.  Blah, blah, blah.

In the last ten months I've dropped fat and gained muscle.  In the last ten months, I have more soreness in my muscles and less pain in my joints.  Sure, I'm chronologically older now but my blood pressure is lower, my sleep is better, and my mood is massively improved.  I'll take it.

In the last ten months I've accepted that I'm not that crazy about running.  To me it's boring AND my joints don't appreciate the pounding.  I've learned to kinda-love rowing.

Anyway...

I needed to be called out today.  I needed to try harder, to strive for more intensity.  Phil was absolutely right and his candor is appreciated.  The lessons I'm gaining from CrossFit are worth every penny I'm spending on my membership.  Work hard. Work fast. Work harder still. This ain't no marathon and this ain't no solo sport where I can cruise along unaccountable to anyone but myself.  I'm good with that.