Real Life Application of CrossFit Theory for a Grandma Who Lifts

Why do I CrossFit?

Let's use today as an example.

I completed my appointment at the World's Largest Medical Center and made my way to my car. Earlier this morning, I parked on the 6th floor - toward the top of the parking structure. At 8:30 am, I had my pick of spaces and there weren't a lot of cars on that floor. By 10:00 am, the place was jam-packed. As I approached my space, I realized I had a problem.  Although my car was easily between MY two yellow lines, a big ol' red extended cab pickup was parked just inches (maybe 2? maybe 3?) from my driver's side. He was angled over the line and into my space. A sedan was on the passenger side, also over the line and into my space.

Well, shit.

I took a minute to assess the situation and, happily, looked up to see a security vehicle making the rounds. I flagged the officer who got out and he immediately started shaking his head.  "Yeah, that's not good."

I had to laugh at the way he summed it up.  He called the Texas Medical Center police switchboard who said the Parking Department would have to handle it. He jotted down a phone number for me and went on his way.

Again. Shit.

I tried to call the parking department but the number I was given wasn't in service.

Big breath. Oh, look! Here comes a TMC police cruiser.  The police officer stops, gets out of his vehicle and asks me if I'm a good driver. Hell, yeah. I'm a good driver! I told him I used to drive an ambulance in Kansas - sometimes in the snow. "Great! You can do this!"

Let's talk functional fitness here. And heart rate control. And following direction. And trust. And teamwork.

We folded up the mirrors of my car and the car to my right. That left a sliver for me to eek through but I had to do a squatting/limbo kind of move to even enter and THEN I had to balance on my right foot while I wiggled my way in to get a foothold on the floor of the passenger side. Once there, I only had to crawl over the console to get into the driver's seat. Whew!

I was kind of wound up by then. I needed to be calm and listen.

Windows down so I could hear instructions. Deep breath. Concentrate.

Inch by inch, we worked together to get the damned thing out of that parking spot. He gave me corrections, I made them. When I finally got clear (without a scratch to any of the cars), we cheered together.

This entire episode literally mirrors my White Board and WOD experience every time I go to the gym.  Gather information, pay attention to the details, trust in the coach, listen and make adjustments as needed, celebrate achievement.

Seriously, celebrate your damned achievements! Life is too challenging and too full of possible disappointments not to cheer when you can.

Let's Talk About Age

My 59th birthday is approaching with force and velocity over which I have no control.  For some reason this seems like a bigger deal than 60.  Maybe I'll change my mind next year but at some point (in my 40s, maybe?) marking decades began to take on more importance to me than marking years. After next Friday, I'll start rounding out my 5th decade. Although I don't have an expiration date stamped on me,  I am aware of an underlying sense of urgency about my life and my accomplishments.

Birthdays are funny.  We go to bed one age and wake up the next day another. We haven't actually aged a year overnight but we sometimes act as if that's exactly what happened.

I'm not 58 years old. I'm 58 years and 360 days old.  Not quite ready to call it quits.

I had a text interaction with a friend earlier this week that initially caused me to bristle. Long story short, she told me I'm an inspiration and she hopes to be "as dedicated to fitness in my later years as you are at your age." It's not the first time this person has mentioned my age to me and I was, honestly, a little stung.  Here was a young, beautiful, strong woman telling me I was...let's just say it...old. It hurt a bit. But, why? Why should I be hurt by someone stating her truth?

Giving it a lot of thought I've come back around to the 1st line of my 2nd paragraph (above). Age is approaching with force and velocity over which I have no control. Anyone who knows me will tell you that loss of control is crazy-making for me. Take a look at my linen closet and you'll realize that I'm a woman who likes order. My spice cabinet is an even better example.  Allspice is left of basil which is left of cardamom, etc, etc.

Aging is an unknown. I have no idea what might come first or what might not come at all. There are  shit-tons of variables lurking in the upcoming decades: illness, financial challenges, climate change, political upheaval, loss of friends/family.  When will my hair finally tip over to full-on gray? How deep will these wrinkles get? (Why, oh why, do I always come back around to the physical?)

So the question is: How do I control something that is uncontrollable? Time -by definition - ticks on.

I prepare for it. That's how.

I nourish my body and my relationships. I get stronger. I stock up on what I'll need to make it through those challenges. I build muscle. I build friendships. I build my reserves.

"Old" is not objective. It is a subjective construct. When I was 25, I thought 60 was old.  Recently I've shifted more to thinking 80 might be old. A few weeks ago I attended an 80th birthday party for a friend who does yoga daily and works at a fairly demanding job. Each time I see her, she's impeccably dressed. She's not old by any measure. So, 80? Not so sure anymore. Perhaps 90.

Getting back to that text conversation. I bounced my immediate emotional reaction off my brother (a wise man of 57) and he advised me to cut her some slack. It's a matter of perspective. I don't know why my friend thinks I'm in my "later" years or even what she means by "later".  Her life experience is as much a mystery to me as mine is to hers. My mom died at 45. I don't have a close frame of reference for "later". Such a smart guy. We (my brother and I) joked about just how very kick-ass we will be when we're 80 and beyond. I look forward to that.

I'm also looking forward to relishing each day as it comes. With maturity I've honed in on what brings me happiness and what detracts from that state. I'm grateful that some of the very activities that help me live longer also make me happy. My goals for the next year:

Lift heavier
Live lighter
Get stronger
Try harder
Listen better

Quantifiably, I have specific lifts with target weights I'd love to hit before I'm 60. I think a personal record (PR) of 300# in deadlift is reachable for me and I have plenty of room to improve my back squat, bench press, and strict press.

Every day is a PR, when you think about it. We wake up and we've lived 1 day longer than we'd lived yesterday. When I look at it this way, "later years" sounds pretty good. I hope my friend who unwittingly pushed me to putting these words out there for all to read knows how much I appreciate her. This is about my truth and I'm grateful she helped me get around to it.

Anniversary

On August 1, 2016, I stepped into a new world. I was terrified of many things: the equipment, my lack of strength and coordination, the strangers who might judge me. I had an abject fear and loathing of team sports participation. I signed up for an introduction to CrossFit at my son's urging (encouragement? prodding?).  A lot has changed for me in 2 years.

This afternoon I was thumbing through my CF journal where I keep a record of the workouts and my weights/times.

2 years ago my deadlift weight was 25#.  I could bench press 45#.  Light weight kettle bell squats were too much for me, I modified to air squats. Weighted overhead squats were virtually impossible due to instability and immobility.

The first few months of journal entries are sprinkled with happy faces, occasional sad faces, notes regarding painful joints, "next time"s, "atta girl"s, and lots and lots of exclamation points.  I was still learning the language and had no grasp on acronyms so I wrote out EVERYTHING.

After a while, I started marking the margins with asterisks.  *Did a box jump! *Hero WOD. *Benchmark.  *PR!!!

When my knee pain became more than I could/should handle, I saw a doctor and had to modify many of the workouts. The coaches were great about helping me switch things up to avoid further injury and to strengthen surrounding muscles.  They worked with me on technique and mobility. I didn't squat for a very long time. In reviewing my journal, I see that I started setting more and more PRs when I started taking care of myself.

My participation in the 2018 CrossFit Open was actually FUN!  For 5 weeks, I looked forward to Thursday nights (when the next workout was announced) and I enjoyed pushing myself to be as fast and strong as I could be. Spending time recovering from joint damage (at least acutely) gave me the confidence to complete a couple of the Open workouts as prescribed (as opposed to scaled). I placed better this year than last and I'm looking forward to 2019.

I'm lifting much more weight now. I'm mostly past my social anxiety, and I enjoy partnering up for some workouts.  I try to welcome newcomers to the gym as soon as I see them.  I'm much more accepting of my body and look at joint limitations as a challenge rather than a hindrance.  I'm still not a big fan of the schoolyard-type games that we sometimes play during warmup.  (Everything is dodgeball to me. Everything.)  I play along, though, knowing that it will only last a few minutes and then we're on to the fun stuff.  I've made real friends at the gym. My social circle is brighter for it.

Likely related to my strengths and weaknesses, I've developed a fondness for strongman exercise and some weightlifting.  Sure! I can carry that heavy thing from point A to point B. Let's go! I get a silly little thrill when I realize dead ball cleans are on the schedule. You want me to lift something over my head? Yes!

I have a new understanding of discomfort related to time. I can do almost anything for just 1 more minute - no matter how fatigued I think I am. Working out in a facility without air conditioning has made me appreciate sweat. It means I'm working hard and (I tell myself) it's also great for my skin.  I've become more tolerant of being uncomfortable and I think I've gained some perspective about actual pain. Perhaps...I've become a little tougher?

Back to that team sport thing.  Encouraging, high-fiving, cheering, competing (with and against)...all of these things are activities I've kind of missed out on my entire life. I'm surprisingly thankful for them now. Go, team!

My CrossFit journal is almost full. Time to buy a new one. I can't wait to fill it up.