My Special Coach

I'm not always easy to coach.

On the one hand, in ANY sport (or anyTHING for that matter), I have such a drive to be better, I will do just about anything you ask me to do. I am one of the most motivated people you'll ever meet.

On the other hand, I can be very hard on myself.  In fact, I've never had a coach for anything who hasn't said told me that within a week of meeting me.

And I can be annoying.  God, I try not to be.  But I can.

When I first started Crossfit, there was one coach I really connected with.  He had just the right way of dealing with my self-deprecating humor and had a way of making me let up on myself. He left our box a while back.  That was a real loss for me. 

Sometimes I feel very fragile.  No, most of the time I feel very fragile now.  Even healthy, I teeter on this fence of feeling invincible and feeling like I'm falling into a black hole.  I am notorious for comparing myself to others--in everything.  Several years ago I decided to try yoga.  I live in a college town, which meant I would be learning yoga next to a room full of flexible skinny twenty-somethings.  The instructor told me to focus on myself and where I was on that day.  That was impossible.  If the girl next to me could wrap her leg around her neck three times, why couldn't I?

When I started Crossfit, I was fifty one.  Most of those at our box were at least twenty years younger than I was.  I was  overweight, a good strong paddler, but definitely not a Crossfitter. About once every week or so, I would have some kind of meltdown.  I usually didn't do it around anyone, but it was always about how inadequate I felt.  No matter how much I improved, this always happened.

Coming back to Crossfit with a twelve inch scar down my extremely sore belly, chicken wings, chicken legs isn't easy.  If I felt fragile before, I certainly feel fragile coming back looking like a piece of poultry.  The challenge is every bit emotional as it is physical.

I have a special coach. Despite ALL of my bullshit--physical, emotional, and the annoyances I bring with that, she makes me feel like I belong there.  Some coaches had given up on me--even before the accident. Don't get me wrong--I wasn't ignored, but I could tell they were somewhat less invested in me than younger athletes.  I totally get that. But my special coach has helped me modify things so I can do what everyone else does, even when my body can't do it exactly that way right now. But she challenges me too.  And she notices me and tells me when I'm doing well.  She makes me feel like a rockstar and that isn't easy right now.  I feel so incredibly blessed!

Chickens don't do burpees.....

This week I did burpees.  By choice.  Really, really slow burpees.  But burpees nonetheless.
Today I did some situps.  My abs are weak, but after a warm up, I gave it a try.  I did two sets of ten.
I've had a lot of incisional pain since the surgery--and it just wasn't letting up.  I asked the doctor about it last week and he told me the people who have it worse are.....wait for it.....athletes.  Go figure.  He also told me that my abs were probably as healed as they were going to be.  I started using them more and they got more sore.  One day this week there were some spots that were tender to touch.  I was really worried that I was getting a hernia or something.  But it felt like a sore muscle, and it got worse with exercise....and then it got better.  All better.  And that is why I could try situps today.
I'm back on my squat program.  It's killing me to do sets of 65# back squats and then feeling it the next day, but I'm feeling it in the right places.  I want my butt back!!!
I'm even progressing with my lifting.  I find writing numbers here embarassing, so I'm going to percentages of my once personal bests.
Snatch 75%
Clean 68% (easy clean but stuck at bottom)
Jerk 65%%
Push Press 80%
Strict Press 94%
Interestingly, it looks like I lost more lower body strength than upper.
Chickens have stick legs.

I snatched 65# today.

It's funny what a proper warm up can do.
That is all.

Ok, so this is annoying.

I think today it really hit me that I am no where near where I used to be and going nowhere pretty quickly.
I've been sick.  I know, not the optimal time to work out, but I can't handle any more down days.  On the other hand, I'm contagious.
So I go into my "home gym" which I haven't touched since before my surgery. I almost cried when I realized I had 95# on the barbell and had to strip forty pounds off of it.  My goal was to warm up and then practice my backsquat.  Then I realized that I couldn't safely push the weight up and over my head to my back. (I don't have a rack anymore.)  My shoulders are ridiculously stiff and they are holding me back more than my abs right now.
On another note, I have established a 1RM.  I said I wasn't going to try, but I accidentally bumped into one the other night.  I have gone to two Olympic lifting classes thus far.  I've been going very, very light.  I started bumping the weight up on the clean since I did a whole lot of 65# power cleans the other day in a WOD and felt pretty good about it.  Got up tp 85# and felt really good. 90?? Fail.  Couldn't get out of the bottom.  I think I'm not using my abs the way I should (no doubt).  This means my overall strength is well over 35% lower than it was.
Last week I would just have told myself that I now have a new starting point.
Today (maybe because I"m sick) I just feel like I've found new depths of despair.
If it isn't one thing, it is another.

Dusting it off

Ok, so it's been over two months.

Today I:

• snatched 55#
• cleaned 80#
• cleaned and jerked 65#

I'm proud of myself.  And the fact that I am proud of myself instead of berating myself for these numbers is progress.

That is all.

Flexing my power

When energy demand is high, our power company will create "Flex Your Power Days," during which we cut back or change the way we use electricity.    

Right now, my body is doing that.  Today is one of those days.  For some reason, I guess I need to conserve.

I was really excited when I saw the WOD online this morning.  Cleans and jerks.  My favorite.  For eight minutes.  For me, that's the perfect amount of time for me.

When I got to Crossfit, I realized I was having one of those days.  I used to call them "I Can't Days."  Typically it would follow some kind of injury  (too common at my age), and would go something like, "Coach, today I can't do __________ because my ___________ is _____________.  I'll need to do _________ instead."  I HATE this because I don't want to be one of those people who always has an excuse.  But since starting Crossfit, I've had quite a few--when you push yourself to the limit, you can cross the line sometimes.  And sometimes life gets in the way.  And that's where I am now.

I had planned to do the WOD at 65#.  (I realize after seeing what others did, this would have been a bad plan anyway.)  But for some reason the empty bar felt heavy.   Really heavy.  When I'm like this, which is not every day, I get short of breath really easily.  Today, that happened when we were warming up with an empty bar.  I wanted  to cry. I traded 35# for a 15# bar.  I was instantly exhausted.  "I can't."

A friend encouraged me.  Maybe that's just what I needed.  Instead of the WOD, I just did 65# cleans and jerks.  Quite a few.  I realized that 65# right now feels like 95# used to.  95# used to be my favorite "working weight."  I could clean and jerk it pretty easily, but I felt like I could still get a good workout if I got in enough lifts.  I began to feel pretty happy with that 65# today.  These were the first post-surgical jerks and, although they gave me a somewhat sore belly, I felt pretty good about them.

Then, just for chuckles, I thought I would  find out what my one rep max was for my strict press.  This is the only lift that you can get away with using less abdominal stuff.  I figured I could go for it safely.  My prediction was that I would be about 30% off of where I was.  My max was only five pounds less than it was in October.  I'll take it.

Sore muscles and Gimp WODS

Sore muscles.  I have sore muscles.  In fact, all of them are sore. I've started going to Crossfit a couple of weeks ago, just puttering about doing mobility and whatever else I could find.  I'll confess that I moved my ten pound limit up to twenty, but hey...I was a little stronger than the average middle aged women a two months ago.  I just wanted to get a sore muscle from something other than laying around on the couch in a weird position.  But I didn't--until this week.
It's official.  I'm now doing WODs.  I call them Gimp WODs, but they're just as challenging as any I've ever done.  I no longer have a ten pound limit but I know that doesn't mean I can't hurt myself or set myself back.
I'm so fortunate to be a part of such an amazing Crossfit box.  People have been so supportive, particularly my favorite trainer, who has both helped me adapt things and made me feel as though I belong there.  I can't tell you how much that means to me.
In some ways, it's like starting over.  So far I've cleaned 65#, snatched 45", deadlifted 85#, and back squatted 100#.  No, these aren't my maxes.  I'm not even close to finding a max.  I just want to ease back in to it.  These are the weights that worked on the day I tried them.
NO....I do NOT want to ease back into it.  At all.  I want to fucking pick up what I could pick up before.  
I am out of gas.  I know...how can I be out of gas when I'm sitting her blogging in cyberspace? Believe me, I am.  I just have an empty tank.  I'm still not getting the nutrition I need from my food (a side effect of the surgery) and I'm not totally recovered yet.  I am MUCH better than I was when I came home, when I was literally winded going upstairs to my bedroom.  I STILL have those days, though.  Just not as often.  
So WODs are tricky on a lot of levels.  I have to find moves that will strengthen my core, that aren't too painful and won't cause injury. And I have to be able to DO the move-there has been some erosion there.  The other day I picked up an 8kg kettlebell to do a clean and jerk and could swear I'd picked up 16kg instead.  Really?  This was a low moment for me and I nearly cried--until one of the women in class reminded me that I couldn't do it then, but I would be able to soon.
I've been fortunate this week.  Most of the WODs have been pretty short.  (And my adaptive moves abbreviate them as well.)  I haven't been brought to my knees (ok, the floor) by a 20 minute AMRAP yet.  Honestly, I don't think I could do that yet.  But I'm up to being able to keep moving for ten minutes.
I am proud of myself.  I'm writing this blog so I can remember this journey and never stop feeling that way.

How I got to where I was on December 2

I am a 53 year old woman. I have never been particularly athletic. In fact, it is quite the opposite. While I've always been fairly strong, being coordinated would never be anything descriptive of me. That changed when I lost both of my parents. My dad died in 1996 at the age of 59 and I lost my mom in 2000. She was 61. The deaths were cardiac related, yet neither met "the profile" of someone who would not live through middle age. At about the same time, I learned I had an inherited lipid condition which was associated with early onset heart disease. For a variety of reasons, we believe this runs in my father's side of the family.

I took up soccer when I was 38. I was terrible. I joined two senior leagues (if you are playing soccer over the age of 35, you are a senior--and you certainly feel like one). The people were so supportive. I have never felt as much joy as I did when I played soccer. I played for about six years. Finally, one injury led to another, and while I was lucky nothing was serious, they seemed to be getting progressively worse.

In the meantime I took up rowing. I loved it. I worked very hard and worked up to the advanced competitive team. I raced at Head of the Charles, which was truly one of the high points of my life. I had given up soccer because I could not risk injury. However, the hamstring injury from soccer was aggravated with every rowing stroke and it became chronic. Eventually I took some time off to rest, but realized I would never heal.

I had also taken up outrigger paddling. There were some similarities to rowing and I was pretty strong, so it felt very natural. Outrigger paddling comes from Hawaiian tradition. It was striking how POSITIVE the sport was. There were also local places to compete. The people were amazing. And...the best part was the Hawaiian races! I've done the 18 mile Queen Liliuokalani race four times now. I also did the Na Wahine O Ke Kai race from Molokai to Oahu. These are two of the most amazing (and difficult) races in the world. This year I hope to do the Na Pali challenge.

Two years ago I took up Crossfit. That is when I started to see the biggest changes in my body and my health. I became strong and learned to do things (like handstands) that I never would have dreamed I could do. The cool thing about Crossfit is that it is so quantifiable. While I know I will never get to the Crossfit Games, I can always say that I'm better than ever. Crossfit is also a family. I dearly love so many I've met there.
Like I said, I'm no athlete, but these are the things I dearly love. They keep me alive in more ways then one.