My 12wbt Round 1 2011 goal

Monday, July 18, 2011

My first training injury and I want to cry

Let me start by saying DO NOT TELL ME I AM TOO OLD! I will swear if you do, I promise you that. I am not too old for anything unless I think I am and I dont, think I am that is.

So blah, bummer, shit, bahwooey.....I have pulled a calf muscle and cannot run for at least one week (that is what I promised the physio anyways).

Now my weekend consisted of the following:

Friday - one hour bootcamp circuit including a fifteen flight stair run down and up

Saturday - one hour cardio boxing which involved plenty of running and a whole heap of boxing (and if you were there then a whole heap and liberal use of the term 'fuck' until my anger was out of my system) followed by a 68minute 5k run from hell down and up a mountain with (between two 920 squats and 920 pushups (yes I have pecks!)and the running was awesome until the last 1k which felt vertical!!!!

Sunday - one 1.5 hour bootcamp with some running. And somewhere in that running I pulled a calf muscle. I dont know why, I was doing great, I was warm if not a bit tired and sore from the days preceeding. I dont know why at all. I kept going of course, not running but all the rest and just kept moving because I could and I wanted to and I was not too old to do that. Thanks to Susie for taking care of me! And then a small hobbly walk around an 18 hole mini putt putt with my children.

Ladies and gentlemen, this is living. This is the life I have now and this is the life I want. So bloody what if I turn 46 next month. I dont jump out of planes, I dont drive my car fast, I dont scuba dive or motor bike ride. I do not face death! I just love to exercise.

So imagine what it is like to be told you are too old. And then imagine what it is like to be on a physio's table being told you cannot run. And I beg him for how long, when can I do it again and then I wonder, who the hell is this person nearly in tears because she cannot run. Screw being fat, screw loosing weight, screw the calories to be burnt, who gives a shit about any of that when you are bing told you are too old by your friends and you cannot run by a physio.

Who am I? Who is this person? Where did she come from?

No, crying just thinking about taking a week off. He said cycle but I hate cycling, it is not the same of the rythyms of my feet as they hit the ground, long strides, short strides, quick strides, slow strides, strides to the music, strides to the pavement, rythmic, calming, centering, peace. I cannot imagine a week without running. I cannot imagine a life without running. No wonder my heart broke for my dog when I was told she could no longer run. It was me, my heart broke because I cannot live without running.

Who the bloody hell am I?

Friday, July 15, 2011

Oh Dear God in Heaven, what am I doing to myself?

Yes it was the milestone day today and so I took up the challenge of a duel workout, cardio boxing followed by the hill workout (from hell). No idea what possessed me to think this was a good combination but egged on by my 12wbt training buddies I felt indestructable. Nothing was going to stop me, I was going to do it. And I did but I have never before today, worked out to the point of wanting to vomit and worked out to the point of crying! Yes I cried. I was so so so emotional, not scared, not sad just I have no idea now, just fighting a brain that wanted to quit and a mind that wanted to finish. I was fighting an internal struggle I have never faced before.

Now I have done triathlons , a 30k kakoda hike, a 30k bike ride, run 3ks non stop, then 5ks non stop, then 10ks non stop. I have worked out with Andrew at bootcamp, Mark at cardio boxing and Mase at Zenergy AND with Michelle Bridges at end of round 3 2010. I have worked out by myself, with others, with trainers. A whole gammitt of training, in numerous ways and places BUT NEVER HAVE I WANTED TO VOMIT AND NEVER HAVE I CRIED before today. Never, ever, ever worked out like that before. I have no idea what happened, I hurt everywhere, I cannot beleive what I accomplished. I cannot believe what I did.

The game was to work as a team with one other person and to run after Mase the trainer and get either a black ribbon (40 reps of squats and pushups) or a red ribbon (20 reps of squats and pushups) and then see who got the most. It was about a 5km run in total. My partner and I got ribbons to the value of 46 which totaled 920 reps of each. We shared the reps between the two of us. We ran down the hill then we ran up the hill and the whole thing was done in about an hour. Now in the last 1km I was "chasing" down Mase and I use this term loosly because I had nothing left in the tank except a whole world of pain and a fear of never getting to the top of the mountain. I was in asthma and I was pushing through because asthma, running and push ups and throw in some rain and I was hurting in my chest in ways that others may well not understand but I wanted to finish. My stomach was in knots and I was sure that vomiting was not far off. My clothes felt tight and I wasn't well. Mase was just in front and I was in pain and I looked at him and he encouraged me on and I realised if I caught him that was 20 more pushups and 20 more squats and I knew I just could not do another push up, I could not breath and that is when the tears come and I begged him not to let me catch him. I had so wanted to the rest of the time, zoned out and running, not really caring if I caught up or not, just running. But this time I couldn't run, I felt like I was going straight up hill, my chest hurt and the idea, the thought, the agony of another push up, no matter how badly formed, was terrifying to me. And with the tears came more difficulty in breathing and the ground became slippery and then Mase said it is just a little way more, just round the corner. My mind went back to Kakoda and I remember that just one more hill, just round the corner, not much further bullshit we spouted to spur us on to the end and it made us laugh then but not this time. So I didn't believe Mase, I thought he was full of crap and I couldn't catch him, I didn't want to and I was crying and in pain and scared and even thinking about it makes me anxious. I ended up unable to breath and having a bloody panic attack. And then there was the sound of HER voice, calm and slow and rythmic and her soft calm eyes and my breathing came back and the pain subsided and I could move on, somehow slowly, at times on all fours, sometimes crawling but I did make it up that fucking mountain! With my 12wbt training buddies who I have come to love and respect.

I am, without doubt one of the luckiest people alive because I can do that kind of training, I have the support to finish it and somewhere inside there is a part of me that knows I am strong enough to do it.

I am a 12wbter and this is a whole new life.

Calories smashed - who cares
Friends identified - forever!!!!!!
Blessings - many!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Tuesday, July 12, 2011

Words don't come easy

There are plenty of us who are struggling to find the words to explain the experience that Emma brought to Brisbane with the help of Sam, with her Emazon Chronicles Stand Your Ground Seminar. And I am kind of the same and yet I want to share what I learned about me, but words just aren't coming easy. It is an experience difficult to share because it is really personal and probably different for everyone.

First thing I realised is that she understood what was going through our heads, in unison, as one she seemed to know what we were thinking and feeling and experiencing but the explanation came later and I had one of those light bulb moments. An understanding so ridiculously simple that I get it for all other aspects of my life except about 'me'. As I said hard to explain.

Then there was the fighting, the punching, the elbows, the pain, the brusing, the power, the will, the inner strength, the purpose, the assuredness, the intuitive me. Again hard to explain. How do you tell someone what it feels like to hit with such force the person goes backward, and the need to protect yourself outways your need for passivity, the ability to break a nose, to fight an attacker, to be centered and calm and wait for the perfect moment, to stand your ground, so foriegn. No words describe the feeling of knowing you can hit a target with your eyes shut, to be that centred, that focused, that intuitive. Who was the person I was unleashing?

And then a new look at me, the one who could run without stopping, the one who loves the freedom that running brings, the one who can choose and say yes to all that is good and no to all that does not work for me, the one who is empowered by a 'red' me who, if I let take control, can be angry, sad, happy but with a happiness that far outweighs the bad feelings that sometimes take control. There is a part of me that knows when things are not right and will fight out and yell and try to be heard, this part of me that I have drugged rather than let free. I have drugged this part of me with food, with antidepressants, with alcohol. I have subdued and surpressed this part for fear and self doubt. I do not wish to quieten this part anymore, this part of me that knows what is right, this part of me that will make good choices for me. She will no longer be silent.

I went for a run this morning and for the first time in months I ran 5km without stopping because this inner part of me wanted to, she wanted to feel empowered and when I was done, I knew I could keep going. I am so much stronger than I knew (or let myself know or let myself believe).

So you see, a whole heap of mumbo jumbo, unless of course you were there and experienced the unleashing of a whole bunch of powerful, intuitive, sassy women. I was there! I am so blessed to have been a part of it. Thank you to the lovely Angela for making it happen. Thank you for bringing Jill to capture the experience in the most amazing photos. I cannot explain how much of my past was healed in those three hours. There are no words.

From this I know that I need to quieten my inner me and listen to her, what is the right choice for me, what will make me happy???? She knows and it sure isn't going to be what I find in the fridge or the freezer or the bottle shop or the lolly isle of the local Coles. It isn't in fighting with my husband or my kids. I have so much to impart to my kids. So when Miss 11 was so upset and angry and I asked her what would make her happy in that moment she knew, and she came and hugged me and I know there is so much more than just myself to heal, I have an opportunity to teach my children so much more than what our society and culture as repesented in mulit media want for us.

How do I find the words to explain but more importantly how do I find the words to thank Emma for bringing this new world of understanding to me.