And Now...A Pause For Reflection....

The I Am CF Challenge is about to come to an end. The challenge and everything that came with it (this blog, level of commitment, level of intensity, etc) was “just for two months”. Two months of serious dedication and then, “we’ll see”.

And just when I felt like I was starting to hit my stride, it’s over. Well, almost over. For the past few days, I’ve been thinking about the last 8 weeks and thinking about (bum, bum, BUM *scary music*) this coming Saturday.

They say that you can’t know where you are going without knowing where you’ve been…so let’s travel back a bit, shall we?

I’ve always pushed myself to work out hard and watch my diet. When you couple that with the fact that I was a collegiate athlete, (which for some reason seems to mean something) I had gotten this air about me that I was in some way physically “better” than other people. Sure, I wasn’t the skinniest or the most toned, but I worked hard dagnammit, and I knew that I was in shape; I was just “bulky”.

Oh, the lies we tell ourselves!

Truthfully, I wasn’t happy with how I looked at all. I would work out harder, eat less, and….no change. So I would get pissed off, workout HARDER, eat LESS and….nothing. I spent the majority of the past few years frustrated, and that’s no way to live your life.

Enter CrossFit.

On the day of the Challenge’s benchmark workout I did not want to be weighed, I did not want to be measured, I did not want my fat pinched, and I did not want my photo taken. I knew I wouldn’t be happy with any number that I heard or any photo that I saw so I put my fingers in my ears, slammed my eyes shut and sang “La, la, la! I can’t hear you! La, la, la!” (Figuratively, of course. It would have just been awkward if I actually did that!) Ignorance is bliss, after all.

For the past seven weeks I have really pushed myself. I’ve followed the Zone diet, done the prescribed workout on my own twice a week, added in extra workouts here and there, became an Advocare Junkie…

(CrossFit, Advocare, Zone, Sleep, Repeat (hmmmm....there’s a T-Shirt if I’ve ever seen one….))

So now we are a few days out from the big finale and I am certain about a few things:

1. I think I did everything I could possibly do.
   
   Lance would say “jump” and I’d, well, honestly I’d make a grimace, mutter something unladylike under my breath and then do the best darn jump I could do. I measured all of my food, I lived, breathed and calculated the time of day by my Advocare supplements and I drink more water during the day than anyone I know.
   
   (Seriously, the bathroom and I are great friends. I think my company is just about ready to offer me the bathroom as an office space, since I spend a majority of my day wearing out the carpet between there and my desk.)
   
   I digress. Moving on!
   
2. CrossFit is really, truly, genuinely, humbling. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not like I started out as an arrogant bastard (I hope), but I did come into this thinking “I work out, I’ve got an athletic background, I’ll rock at CrossFit!”
   
   There isn’t a CrossFit workout that goes by that I don’t think, “I could have done that better or faster.” And I love that. I think I was too complacent in my workouts before, it’s no wonder I’d gotten softer than the Pillsbury Dough Boy on a hot day!
3. I *heart* (and am completely addicted to) CrossFit.
   
   My workout buddy, Heather, just peer pressured me into signing up for the Platinum package. I resisted for about...mmmm...2 seconds.
   
   A side note: Anyone with the ability to time travel should go back in time and listen in on our phone call while we tried to figure out the math (damn you Math!! fist shaking at the sky) I know math is literally a four letter word, but to me it is also a four letter word if you know what I’m saying…..
   
   When I get tired, I am sure that I’ll blame Heather (sorry Heather!), but I wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t sort of want to in the first place.
   
   That’s the problem with CrossFit being my Crack…you always want a little bit more!
4. I think I’ll keep up this blog. It was initially meant to only be for the challenge – but there is so much I’ve yet to accomplish. Let’s keep blogging
   
   (Besides, I think two people read this blog and I wouldn’t want to disappoint either of you!)

And as wonderful as all of those things are, I am a little bit nervous about Saturday. Here’s why:

1. Honestly, I don’t think I look that different. I don’t really notice clothes fitting differently; I don’t look at myself and think “Daaaaammmnn….I look goooooooooood!” (because that’s totally how I would say it). So I am worried that I’ll get there and the number on the scale won’t have budged, the tape measure won’t have gotten any tighter, and the fat pinchers will still have a whole big lump o’ fat to pinch…basically everything will stay the same.
   
   I don’t mind working hard. But if this whole venture was just me digging a hole in water…I know I’ll be upset.
   
2. I want to go faster than I did on the original benchmark…but Lance told me I have to the prescribed weight (that’s heavy, Lance!) and I am not certain about my pull-ups…they are sorta sometimes there but I don’t think I’ve mastered them yet.
   
3. Today’s workout was rough! I felt every push-up, every sit-up, the run hurt, and my body was fighting me the whole time. Doesn’t bode well for Saturday…..
   
   I guess I only have a few days to see if there is any merit to my concerns. Either way though, I am really glad I did the challenge. I feel better about myself, and if I’m going to wake up at the crack of dawn every day going “Whhhhhhhyyyyyyyyyy?!!?” There isn’t anywhere else I’d rather go (except back to sleep, of course, but that could have gone without saying)
   
   So good luck to everyone on Saturday! I’ll be the nervous Nelly in group 1. If you are in group 2, you’ll recognize me as the one passed out in the middle of the floor.
   
   

Note to Self

Dear Me,

Hello Me! It’s been a while since we’ve had a good, honest conversation, and since there is no time like the present, I thought I would open the dialogue.

We’ve been doing some pretty awesome stuff lately. Our workouts are going well, our diet is as good as it has ever been and I think we are just about to see some results. I am almost sure of it. Sort of. (I mean, we have to notice a difference soon, I would think.)

But, Me, there is something we really need to talk about. We are really hard on our self. For as much good as we do for ourselves, we really are our own worst enemy. And oddly, I think it is holding us back.

Take today for example. We had a great workout. We pushed ourselves, we did the prescribed weight, we did every repetition, it hurt but we pressed through…and yet, all said and done, we thought we could have done better. I think the real flaw in our thinking isn’t that we thought we could have done better; we should always strive to be better, faster, and stronger – it’s the only way we improve. But rather, when we finish a workout and have those thoughts, we get frustrated and get down on ourself. That’s just unnecessary.

It’s not like we threw our hands up and quit. It’s not like we didn’t try. And do we really have to be the best at everything? Of course we should strive to be our best. How does that saying go? “Shoot for the moon because even if you miss you will end up among the stars.” But we need to be realistic and realize that we will not be the best at everything.

I mean, we’ve already accepted that about our coordination, inability to take a good picture and our singing ability (or distinct lack thereof), so we should learn to apply that acceptance to the rest of our life, too.

We didn’t even do that badly in the workout. Looking back, I think we did quite well actually! And why should it matter if we did have a bad workout? We are human, after all. And really, how bad is it that we haven’t perfected Kipping pull-ups yet? We’ve only been trying them for a month – Rome wasn’t built in a day!

(I realize I just compared our body to Rome. That’s not to say we are ancient or Ruined (get it? Ancient Ruins…ruined? (Ba-doom-doom-(*symbol clash*)) But there isn’t a clichéd saying that goes like “but a perfect Kipping Pull-up wasn’t accomplished in twenty-four hours”. I guess I could have said that, but it doesn’t have the same ring, does it?)

Anyway, Me, I am setting a new precedent for us to follow (and I don’t want to get resistance from you about this!)

We need to give ourselves a break.

We do more for us in a week than most people do in a year. And I think if we are patient and just enjoy the ride, things will start to happen organically. Of course we need to keep pushing ourselves, eating right and finding new challenges…but no more beating ourselves up about things, OK?

Cool. I feel a lot better since we’ve had this conversation, don’t you? So, let’s keep up the good work, keep pushing ourself and accept our flaws.

Just remember, flaws are good…all the cool kids have them.

Love,
Shannon

Weary

I am spent.

My eyes are heavy, my brain is refusing to function, and everything I do is in done in a special sort of slow motion - I just don’t have the energy to pick-up the pace. My coworker caught me staring at a wall. Not because the wall was interesting; it is a white wall with no pictures. Not because there was something odd about the wall; it was just as boring as usual. And not even because I was thinking about something that needed a particular level of staring into space to really ponder its point. Nope. I was staring because my brain had checked out and my body didn’t have enough energy to stop it from happening.

My Brain: Umm…yeah. Soooo…I’ve been thinking, and I think I’m going to shut down now.
My Body: OK.
Brain: Well, aren’t you going to stop me?
Body: Stop. Don’t do it.
Brain: That wasn’t very convincing.
Body: Wasn’t it? Oh well.
Brain: Screw you. Here I go……
(crickets)

Despite my brain’s insistence on not working, I have somehow managed to come up with some theories as to why I feel so awesome:

· I am not getting enough sleep. I can’t get to sleep, then I am up sporadically during the night, then I get up early, then I do a whole day’s worth of, you know, daytime stuff, and then I go to bed and repeat. I am a broken record.

· I am overtraining. I don’t want to believe that, but I just read this article (

http://sportsmedicine.about.com/cs/overtraining/a/aa062499a.htm) about overtraining and I sort of fit that profile. But then, if you believe everything you read, I should really stop ignoring those emails telling me that I have won the British lottery. (Note to self: send England my bank account info ASAP…..) The overtraining might possibly be related to the second workout I do two-three times a week...maybe.

· I am a compulsive exerciser. I might actually believe this one a little bit. I read this article (

http://sportsmedicine.about.com/cs/eatingdisorders1/a/compulsive_ex.htm), and after reading the check points wondered who this Elizabeth Quinn was, how did I not notice her when she followed me around, and why did she think it was OK to print an article about me without my permission?

· I am letting my job get to me. The Man is getting me down.

· I am letting the economy get to me. (*kicking the dirt*) Stupid economy.

· I am trying to be too many things to too many people. I’ll spare you all of the hats I’ve been wearing lately but I know that I am doing too many things to be doing a great job at any one of them and I have sacrificed all of my free time in the process. Woe is me!

Now, I am not an expert, but I think one or two (or three or all six) of those points could possibly be to blame for my weariness. The sad thing is that I don’t really see how to remedy this particular situation any time soon.

Maybe I could stop exercising so much…(hahaha! I know! I couldn’t keep a straight face as I was typing it either!)

Oh, don’t worry. I am sure things will be better soon….I think.

*sigh* That’s simply as much conviction I can muster today.

A Letter to Food

Dear Food,

I feel I must inform you that our relationship has changed.

This might come as a shock to you; after all, I do consume you every day! But you are so complicated, so complex, so varied…that even though it is different, I think we can still have a spectacular relationship.

Surely you must have noticed that things are different between us. Like the fact that I have been avoiding your Sweet side. I noticed that your Sweet side wasn’t so sweet after all; it was kind of greedy actually. It wanted to take up more and more of my time with you and never did me favors in return.

Well, if you consider overindulgence and extra body fat a favor, I stand corrected.

Thankfully Fruit has been there holding my hand, and offering me what I need when I find my resolution faltering in Sweets’ presence. And Fruit has a genuine sweetness, whereas Sweets seem to be all fake and syrupy; it is something I never really noticed until I took a step back.

I have also, for the most part, stopped returning your calls when you call as Processed Carbs. That part of you is perhaps the worst, and is really the drug dealer of the whole bunch. It is always promising me a quick fix when hunger comes knocking. At the time, it is oh so good! But then comes the crash; and that is awful. That is when you try and manipulate me to come back for more and more…but it will never truly satisfy me will it?

So don’t try and tempt me with bread, it won’t work. And if you come in packaging, I probably won’t even notice you are there. So go ahead and crinkle your fancy, shiny wrappers all you want; and you can put away your cereal, crackers, popcorn, and chips. I won’t even blink and just keep on walking.

But please Food, as a favor to me for all of my years of loyalty, ask the Sweets and Processed Carbs to stop ganging up on me? It’s mean to wave a freshly baked cookie in my face. Stop trying to tempt me with carrot cake with the promise of “but carrot is a vegetable!” Yes, but if you were paying attention to me, you would know that carrots are on the unfavorable list in the zone diet! And you can tell them that they can stop hanging out with Dairy as well. Bullying me with Ice Cream is just torture…and that is uncool, Food. UN-cool.

I don’t want you to think it is all bad, though. For instance, I have rediscovered my relationship with Vegetables. They have really always been there for me, but when my mom was forcing me to be friends with them growing up, I didn’t want to listen. That’s misguided youth for you, isn’t it?

Lettuce and Tomato have been especially steadfast and are the vigilantes of the group. For years they have been throwing themselves in the harmful path of buns on burgers, been the heart and soul of every salad and have been underappreciated as a garnish, when they really should have been stealing the show.

All Vegetables, not just Lettuce and Tomato, have really been wonderful. I now have a wonderful bond with Eggplant, Broccoli, Zucchini, Bell Peppers and so many others! They really are my new BFF’s and are always there to hold me back when I’ve been tempted by the lure of Processed Carbs.

My relationship with Chicken, Beef and Fish is still the same…we just see a little bit less of each other at each meal. But I suppose that is to be expected; I have new best friends in Vegetables, and Meat seems to understand. I also have a better relationship with Fats. I used to hang out with a whole bunch of them, but I think its better to leave that relationship to a small group, so I tend to only roll with Avocado, Almonds, Cashews and Olive Oil. They have always been my favorite anyway, so this works out for the best, I think.

I think most importantly, Food, is that the dynamic of our relationship has changed. You see; you no longer call the shots. I do. You no longer get to tell me when to eat because I do it before you yell at me. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’ve also been working out, so I feel like I can give Sweets and Carbs the one-two punch; so even though they are big bullies, you tell them to watch their backs. I have no problem just tossing them into the trashcan.

So you see Food, things have changed a bit - but I think I love you more than ever. I am much more excited about my meals than I was a few months ago. I think that defining our relationship and streamlining who I spent my time with (rather than gallivanting around with everyone) has made me really appreciate all of your good attributes. I’ve noticed I fight with you less often; I don’t count calories, obsess over or agonize about what to eat anymore. We’ve entered into a really comfortable, more honest, and I think healthier, place where you give me what I need and I appreciate you for what you are. It might seem a bit greedy from my end, but you’ve been in charge for twenty-six years, its my turn at the wheel.

And you know, Food? I like where we are and I believe we will be here for a while. I think that Humphrey Bogart put it best when he said “this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”

Sincerely,

Shannon

Defeated

I am a generally a positive person.

Not one of those chipper, smile at a funeral, “isn’t life just the bestest ever?!?!” type of positive. No, those are the type of people that you have to wonder what type of drugs they are taking. But, I can usually find the silver lining in a storm. I have found that if you let it, the Universe will get to you, so it is best to head it off at the path and not let it win.

But every once in a while, storms collide and I can’t find a silver lining. It is sometimes even too hard to look for one. Thankfully, moments like this are usually short lived, but it doesn’t make them any easier.

I had one of those moments last week.

I had a meeting at work that really (really, really) got to me. I went on a roller coaster ride through the seven stages of grief. By nightfall, I had settled in on a mix between anger and depression (I didn’t say it was a steady roller coaster ride. It was actually more one of those “Whirl-A-Ding” machines where your car flips in circles around a circle that is also moving in a circular manner, just to make sure you get amply motion sick so when you get off, you wonder why you were on it in the first place.)

I have friends and family that were trying to point out the silver lining for me…”look there, you can see a glimmer!” Even though I saw it, I didn’t really want to admit it, so like a petulant child I folded my arms, frowned and said in a whiny tone, “I don’t see anything…”

Universe: 1, Shannon: 0

It is never a good idea to go to bed in a negative state, but short of staying up all night, I didn’t really have a choice, so to bed I went in full-on pity party mode. I had some fitful dreams, and when I woke up I felt it right away. I was defeated.

Universe: 2, Shannon: 0

I dragged myself out of bed and slowly got dressed for CrossFit while I tried to think of a valid excuse to miss it: Food poisoning? Nah, I’d better save that one for a special occasion. Sick? Nope, the Universe is already winning; I don’t want to tempt its friend, Fate. Overslept? Lame. I couldn’t think of one valid excuse and so slowly gathered my things and headed out the door.

At this point it is important to preface that there was a winter storm that blew in the night before. Everyone was in a tizzy about it because, this is Texas, and we aren’t sure what this “winter” is that the rest of the country talks about.

So I head outside and am immediately greeted by freezing cold. That didn’t make me feel better. The steps looked a little wet, so I decided to slow-go them to be on the safe side. The cynical me that had taken residence in my brain said, “that would just be the icing on top of the bitter, bitter cake I’ve swallowed.” I didn’t actually have time to finish that pessimistic thought though, because at that point, I slipped on some ice, flew into the air, and fell down twelve steps.

(Later, when I regained a sense of humor, I would think about how ironic those twelve steps would be if I were actually in rehab. But I digress.)

Universe: 3, Shannon: 0

Stunned, confused and, of course, still defeated. I sat in my crumpled, just-fell-down-a-flight-of-stairs position thinking 3 things: 1) Did that actually just happen? 2) Did I hurt myself? 3) I wonder if this is a valid excuse to get out of the workout.

I didn’t have too much time to think because apparently, a fall down a flight of stairs makes quite a ruckus, and the neighbor that lives below me came out to see what had happened. It’s January, not December, so clearly I couldn’t have been Santa Clause.

Well, this just reached a new level of embarrassing. Can’t a girl fall down a flight of stairs in peace!?! Now I have to be humiliated by the presence of another person.

Universe: 4, Shannon: 0

“Uh, are you OK?” he asked. It was very nice of him to try and hide his smile.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. I just…um…fell.” I responded in my best leave-me-alone-I-am-about-to-die-of-humiliation voice.

“Do you need help with anything?” He said, eyeing the bazillion bags that I take with me on CrossFit mornings (my purse, my bag of meals for the day, my giant gym bag for getting dressed at the gym after CrossFit, my jacket, my other gym bag that I bring to work in case I really need to blow of some steam at the gym after work (it is much smaller, and I don’t need to carry the giant one that contains all of the tools necessary to make me look like a presentable human being)).

“Umm…nope…nope…I’m fine.” Please go away! Doesn’t everyone know that the one time you don’t want a Good Samaritan is when you fall?!?

So I gather my bags and walk in my best see?-I-am-not-hurt manner, which is really hard to do when you are trying to mask a limp.

Too humiliated to turn around, I head to workout, where I show up late (falling seemed to have eaten into my travel time). It wasn’t until after I got out of the car that I really felt any pain. And then I noticed that I had skinned both of my knees and that both of my ankles, especially my right one, hurt. Great.

Universe: 5, Shannon: 0

But truly, the highlight of my morning must have been during warm-up, when the Universe vs. Shannon tally really got to me. I was mad at work, mad at stairs (all stairs mind you; not just my icy apartment stairs), mad that I was hurting, mad that I couldn’t justify an excuse to miss the workout, mad at myself for trying to think of an excuse, because clearly working out was not my problem, and mad about being mad.

I couldn’t do a twist. The absolute easiest part of the warm-up hurt my ankle the most. And on the third rep when I couldn’t do it and was asked if I was okay, (oh the humiliation!) I started crying.

Hate is a strong word, and I try not to use it too liberally. But there are a few things that I truly hate, and crying in front of people is one of them. It doesn’t bother me when other people do it, but I personally avoid it at all costs.

Universe: 10, Shannon: 0 (crying is worth a lot of points)

Somehow I made it through the workout (with a modification, which didn’t do anything to improve my mood). At the end of the workout, I just sat there. Unhappy about life, the fall, and about the workout – both that it was modified and that, when all is said and done, I know I could have done better.

Universe: 11, Shannon: still 0

But thankfully, that’s when I snapped out of it. I just couldn’t feel sorry for myself anymore. It’s really much more exhausting than one might think.

Sure, I didn’t have the best CF workout ever – but it felt good to sweat things out. And yeah I fell, but it could have been a lot worse. I managed to escape with minimal bleeding, some bruising, a bruised ego, two strained ankles, and, let’s face it, a good story.

Ha! Take that Universe!

Universe: 11, Shannon: 1!

I guess the Universe took that round...but I suppose we can’t all win all of the time.