CrossFit Games Open WOD 12.1

I would like to apologize for females everywhere.  We are snotty, stuck up, and unfriendly to others like us.    I'm pretty sure this can be explained by the theory of natural selection and the innate habit of mating.  Let me clarify that this is NOT about mating, but females are instinctively protective and possessive of what they perceive as theirs.  So when another female encroaches on one's "territory", she is sized up and judged as to the level of threat she presents to taking ownership of said possession.  I would like to say that I am not this way, but being female, I probably am so please forgive me when I behave in similar situations.

En route to the facility, I turned off the radio and visualized myself cranking out burpee after burpee for 7 minutes, all the way to 100.  That was my goal, 100 burpees in 7 minutes!  Being one of the first people to arrive at CrossFit Wilmington, I was greeted by a shorty who gave me the liability waiver to fill out (I'm not a member there) and then chatted with a guy about how disappointing it was that she went from 5th in the world to 35th when somebody trumped her 120 burpees with 133!  I went on into the gym area to begin a warmup where I was quickly greeted by 3 dudes who recognized me from the beach WOD I attended last summer.  I could tell they were trying to get a sense of my fitness level so I divulged little information because I wanted no preconceived expectations (this is because I have a tendency to talk like I'm fitter than I think I actually am).  As other crossfitters started to meander in and mingle, I noticed that I was quite alone.  I felt intimidated because it wasn't my box.  I was insecure because it wasn't my box.  Other female athletes checking me out because it wasn't my box and I was an intruder.  Just as the dudes were welcoming and encouraging, the women were cold and sterile.  I'm used to this, but in a circumstance such as this, I would have greatly appreciated a friendly female face or even an introduction.  Nonetheless, I pressed on with sweaty palms and an ever increasing heart rate.  After a quick group warmup, we were instructed to find a partner, who, incidentally, would be your judge, and to find a targe that measures 6" above your max reach.  I HATE the statement "find a partner".  It's filled with rejection and fear, thus this served to increase my anxiety, especially since this wasn't my box.  Finally, a lady a bit older than me approached me to partner up.  Whew!  At least I didn't have to do the asking.  Anxiety level decreased slightly.  The next few moments only increased my angst about this WOD as the "powers that be" decided that I would be best at the garage door on the opposite side of the gym because "[my] arms are SO long" and they didn't have an accurate target.  So as my partner is getting ready to start her 7 minutes of fame, I'm going over in my head the variables that are going to affect MY 7 minutes of misery (cold air, a hill, no cohort to compete against since everyone else was on the other side of the box).  "10 seconds!" The guy running the show has set the clock for 7 minutes.  "3-2-1- GO!"  My partner starts at a slow but doable pace and ends up with 74 burpees.  As her time winds down, I get more and more nervous!  After putting up 74 burpees for Laura, we walk through the CrossFit Kids class of 7 year olds hopping over a PVC pipe to the garage door where I have to spend my next 7 minutes.  While waiting for the group of second heat-ers measure out their 6" target, my warmup fades and I'm now freezing in a t-shirt and shorts at the garage door set at a height of 92".  My heart has reached 110 beats per minute and I haven't even started.  As I'm jumping around trying to stay warm, the urge to urinate slaps me in the crotch!  No time now, gotta WOD! "10 seconds!"  Clock's set at 7 minutes. "3-2-1-GO!"  Burpee, breathe, burpee, breathe, burpee, breathe, wait, I missed the target!  For the next 4 minutes I'm cranking out 50 burpees.  I miss the target as a I fatigue so for every target I miss I'm doing 2 jumps instead of 1. "3 minutes to go!" My partner says I only have 63 and my mind races through the math.  40 burpees in 3 minutes to reach my goal of 100!  Heart rate 180 bpm, respirations 35 per minute, terrible burning sensation in my throat and lungs, legs are almost to full tetany!  How on earth can I get 40 more burpees!  Shouts of "keep moving" and "let's go" ring in my ears as my mind finally starts to stop calculating and analyzing at 2 minutes to go.  I still need to find 30 burpees!  Moving as fast as I can, I jump to the target of #84 and miss it!  Jump again for it to count and my score is a lowly 84 burpees in 7 minutes.  Disappointment and failure stab my brain!  The shorty who's leading the tiny humans through their own WOD comes over with a high-5 and good job smile.  She and a couple others ask me how many I got and I avert their eyes as I humbly say "just 84".  As I prepare to tuck tail and run, the 3 dudes that greeted me in the first 10 minutes, one by one come over to offer a high-5 and a smile.  My partner asks and encourages me to come back next week.

Now, 2 hours after stopping the clock, talking to my sweet supportive husband and a dear friend, my lungs are still hurting and my legs are jell-o.  I want to cry tears of disappointment, crumble from the stress relief, and pray for a better showing next week.  I am happy I did it.  I praise GOD for my physical ability and I pray for mental strength in everything not just crossfit.  Above all, I pray for God to receive honor and glory for anything I do and that I would represent him appropriately.

My dear friend and crossfitter encouraged me to attack the unfriendly female issue head-on.  She is strong and beautiful and struggles just as the rest of us and suggested that next week I go up to the fittest chick and introduce myself.  Ask her advice and for any tips. Show her and everybody else that I am not a predator.  I'm just another crossfitter who happens to be a girl.

"FOR PHYSICAL TRAINING IS OF SOME VALUE, BUT GODLINESS HAS VALUE FOR ALL THINGS, HOLDING PROMISE FOR BOTH THE PRESENT LIFE AND THE LIFE TO COME."  1 TIMOTHY 4:8

Momentary Lapse in Judgement?

I did something last night that I think I will regret.  There are few (3) people in this world who are familiar with my attitude towards losing.  And now, with delusions of grandeur, I have set myself up for a inevitable losing streak.  My name is NOT Iceland Annie or Kristin Clever or Sam Briggs or even Julie Fouchet.  But for some reason last night I saw myself as an equal with them and registered to compete in the CrossFit Games Open.  What?! Why would I purposely set myself up for failure?!  I mean, I have never competed at crossfit for fear of my weaknesses being on display.  I desperately want to get faster and stronger and smash PRs, but to do it in front of other athletes who are faster and stronger just makes me feel weak, insignificant, and embarrassed.

On the other hand, the verse from Timothy reminds me that "God did not give [me] a spirit of timidity, but a spirit of power, of love, and of self-discipline."  I know this is actually a word of encouragement to Timothy from Paul that applies to his ministry of spreading the gospel and pastoring a flock, but I also see it as encouragement to do everything without fear and maybe even to attempt things that are uncomfortable.  So my fear of everybody seeing my weakness is contradictory to this very promise.  In my weakness, He is strong.  Having such fear in endeavoring to compete in a CrossFit competition may seem trivial and possibly even superficial, but it is real and present.  I believe God uses every circumstance and encounter to accomplish his will and this is no different.  This will be an opportunity to give God the glory in every attempt. My prayer is that I will not be timid, that I will be self-disciplined, and that the love of the Holy Spirit would flow through me and give me an attitude of love for all competitors, especially the ones that beat me.

Now to the games.  If you're not familiar, this is how it goes.  There are 5 weeks in the Open where each week a WOD (workout of the day) is posted for the world to see.  Every athlete who is registered then has 96 hours to do the WOD and it be valid.  Validation occurs by being judged at an affiliated box (gym) or by submitting a video of yourself doing the WOD.  Once your WOD is validated you are ranked among every other competitor in the WORLD.  The top competitors go to Regionals then to the CrossFit Games in California to compete for the title of "Fittest On Earth".  The process is intense.  It is high-octane.  It is grueling.  It is more fun than you can imagine.  I'm excited to embark on this Mount Everest and to see how God works in and through me.  Join me on this roller coaster ride and maybe even watch me on ESPN in July.

SQUAT for your health!

I don't want to bash medical doctors.  I think they do wonderful things and I guess it's my fault for seeking a surgeon's opinion before exhausting all other options.  Trying on "other options", however can get pretty pricey and in my need-it-fixed-now mind, the "other options" would take weeks or months.  I just keep thinking "I don't wanna waste all that time resting when I could be squatting and pressing and lifting!"  Yes, I said SQUATTING!  It's really a normal position of your body, contrary to popular belief.  Try getting a job.  I would bet you 100,000% they will make you watch a video about how to pick up things.  And that video will tell you to bend at the knees with your back straight and push up through your heels.  Huh, that's strange.  That's what I do only with weight.  It's like modern day medicine expects every single healthy or not individual to walk around in a stiff upright position, because after all, that's the only way to "save" your knees.  HOGWASH!  Try this. Sit on the floor.  Now move to a standing position. What??? You had to bend your knees?  Oh wait!  And your butt was lower than parallel at one point?  Shameful!  How dare you squat!  That is detrimental to your health.  PUHLEASE!

We're all gonna get old, why not be strong when you're old?  It is proven that people who remain active and exercise regularly live much healthier lives well into their later years.  When coached and given good sound criticism during strenuous physical activity, there is no reason one should not be able to continue to use the full range of motion of every single joint in the body until the day they die unless something is impeding the movement.  If something is impeding movement, find it and remove it to restore full range of motion.

My philosophy is disuse leads to dysfunction.  Think about that statement.  If I stop squatting, at some point I will no longer be able to squat efficiently.  Have you ever seen an elderly person in a nursing home who is lying in a bed with knees and elbows flexed into somewhat of a fetal position.  These contractures develop because the limbs are not used.  In other words, the person is unable to flex and extend and the staff responsible for their care has not done their job by passively moving these joints which prevents contractures.  DISUSE LEADS TO DYSFUNCTION!  And that's all there is to it.

Oh and by the way, Dr. Hocker, my elbow is hurting like HELL!  (He gave me a steroid shot to the lateral epicondylitis...that's long for tennis elbow and said stop squatting.)

Isn't it ironic?

This week we have been blessed and we have been saddened.  You could say we (and by "we" I mean my husband) got to see the gift of life and the unexpectedness of death within 2 days.  No, I'm not talking about a birth; I'm talking about the uniting of a family that was 2.25 7 months ago and became 3 four days ago.  It was very different from any homecoming I've ever seen.  Let's just say my homecomings have been short and sweet.  There is no "formation" or "marching" or even stories told by the commanding officers (I wouldn't know a CO if he told me to get a haircut).  He arrives on 1 bus where I'm waiting 25 feet away, he gets off the bus, we take a few pictures, and "bounce" as my husband would say.  On this day, we waited 3 hours after rushing to get there because my friend got a text that said they would be there in an hour!  2 bags of snack-sized chips, 2 water bottles, and several announcements by a very moto Marine about ETA later, we were finally in place to receive her man.

Two days after this momentous occasion, my husband would be in Arlington National Cemetery to bury a comrade, a teammate, a brother.  He remarked at the homecoming about the irony of seeing a reunion and a death in such a short timespan.  You see, we don't get to walk blissfully ignorant through this life.  Every single day there is a reminder of how short life is.  I know how cliche that statement is, but you try being married to a military man for 1 year and tell me how much more aware of it you become.  This life is so fragile and delicate yet hardened and steadfast.  We have no choice but to laugh with those who laugh and mourn with those who mourn.  We cannot turn a blind eye to the news or pretend that increasing tension in the Middle East has little to do with us.  It has everything to do with us!  We are not special or chosen, we just do it.  We face every day with the the belt of truth, the breastplate of righteousness, the gospel of peace,  the shield of faith, the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit (Ephesians 6).

This is not the first time my loyal husband has rushed off to bless another man he calls "brother".  I respect these times when he feels such devotion to others.  In fact, it makes me incredibly proud.  It is within this realm alone that I believe these men are so attached to one another that they would drive 12 hours in one day to attend a funeral.  The willingness of one to die for the other is fantastical; it's something you see in the movies but don't expect to happen in real life. But even with a burial in sight, my husband understands the importance of giving a homecoming its due as well.  Because no matter the job of the Marine coming home to his family, no matter the size of his family, he's still a Marine who's taken the same oath of service to God, country, Corps.  He's still a Marine who's been away for longer than he or his family would like.  He's honorable.

I find it an honor like no other to live this life next to my man.  God is strong for me and I am strong for my Marine.  I will gladly take the reunions, the births, the friends, hardships and struggles, and deaths over blissful ignorance any day.  We are more than conquerers though Him who gives us strength!

Popular Belief Debunked

Contrary to popular belief, I am not perfect when it comes to all things food.  An interesting thing occurred to me this evening after my workout, which consisted of running ONLY because of a severe case of tennis elbow.  I crave sweets all day!  Well, let me clarify.  The insatiable craving occurs from about 11 a.m. to post-workout, whatever time that may be.  After the workout, the cravings are gone unless I eat.  Once I eat (anything), the cravings begin again.  What is this?!  Now that I've identified a problem, it's time to find the answer.

I've been reading The Anti-Inflammation Zone by Dr. Barry Sears (don't judge, you know I love that man) and am becoming more and more concerned about the inflammation that is lurking in my body that I know is there and that which I do not know about.  He calls this screaming pain inflammation and silent inflammation because that associated with pain means there is enough localized inflammation to trigger the pain sensors.  This I have and am very aware of!  The silent inflammation is a kind of low-key response that does not initiate a pain sensation but is found all over the body especially inside the circulatory system and is ultimately going to kill us all!  Anyway, I'm not very far into the book, but I know that diet plays a huge role in the presence of inflammation and I am desperate to eliminate mine.  Inflammation, that is.  So maybe I should eliminate all nutritional intake.  Okay, I'm not going anorexic or anything, but I just want it to be EASY!!!  It's so not!  I want to be strong, lean, and healthy.  I don't want injuries and I don't want to feel like I'm as big as Gloria (the hippo in Madagascar).

The other revelation you might not be aware of is I'm lazy!  Yep, I said it.  I'm notoriously lazy and I fight the urge to do absolutely nothing every single day.  That's why I thrive when I'm on a schedule.  I need structure to be productive.  I need timelines and deadlines to accomplish goals.  Am I the only one with this secret?  I think not.  It's an epidemic and it's called Chronic Laziness Syndrome.  I have it, countless friends have it (they're all in denial :-);  I notice more every day.  My digression here is to give you an idea as to why being perfect nutritionally is so far out of reach for me.  I don't want to cook enough chicken to last for 3 days.  I don't want to prep endless amounts of broccoli that will last for a week.  I don't want to portion out everything healthy into little rubbermaid containers that are divided like the plate of a 5 year old.  All this requires hours in the kitchen on any given day (I know, because I have done it) and my sinful self says "I don't want to!"  But!  I do want to increase my mental acuity and fitness level and reduce injuries.  I also want to get lean so that my jeans don't make me have a muffin top.  I want to boost my immune system and reduce screaming pain inflammation.  So how do I get to where I want to be if I'm lazy?  I acknowledge that I have a condition and resolve to overcome it.  Then I make a plan and practice self-control by implementing the plan.

Run with me, all you who are lazy and procrastinating!  You'll be better for it!

Call me Scrooge...

I know I'm not the only one who cares nothing about the holiday that is approaching fast. You see it all over Facebook.  Either you're giddy with Christmas fever or so over it.  Personally, I haven't been joyful, ecstatic, celebratory, blah, blah, blah, about Christmas for as long as I can remember.  Every year I ponder the question of "why not be excited" for a moment but as soon as my ADD mind moves on to what's my speed (I was driving tonight when the thought occurred), it rarely recurs until, well, next Christmas.  I guess I've just accepted that I don't care that much about the retail payload, that I just don't like Christmas music, that there's a 99.9% chance of temperatures in the 60s with NO snow, that traffic will be triple what it normally is from black Friday to December 26, and that those incessant bells accompanying the red bucket will be making my ears ring for 6 months.  Yes, I'm a Scrooge.

But why?  Again, that is the question (well, at least for today).  I am a believer in Jesus Christ, Immanuel, Prince of Peace.  Why am I not joyful and in the mood to celebrate in song and nog and mistletoe?  Why do I feel like hurling when the scent of cinnamon pine cones slaps me in the face as soon as I walk into EVERY store?  Why doesn't my heart warm at the sound of O Holy Night?  The bible says, "BEHOLD, a child is born".  That word behold tells me "TAKE NOTICE!  THIS IS A BIG BIG DEAL!"  And I don't mean blue light special on aisle 9.  It means the God of the universe has arranged for a play date that turns very serious at age 9.  It means, "it's time!".  The old testament is rife with references to this very birth.  It also means that in 33 years, every sin you and I have ever and will ever commit is paid for with bloodshed.  So why can't I just focus on that?  Is it because I am bombarded with  "Christmas" and not Jesus?  You may say, "what about all the little phrases like Jesus is the reason for the season and the carols."  As true as these utterances are, they seem cheap in comparison to the what we are actually celebrating.  It seems that if you live in America you celebrate Christmas no matter what your religion is which takes away the uniqueness of it.  And so, I fear, the hype that surrounds such a pivotal event has hardened my heart.  This makes me sad.  For years, I have pondered my state of mind on this and come to no conclusions.  Perhaps my friend, Jesus, can chime in on this one and show me the Christmas light.  

To Blog or Not to Blog...

That is the question. It has always been the question.  I have an aversion to the idea of spewing one's life across the pages of mass media.  Mostly because every time I think I want to do it, I can't come up with a single topic or dramatic story that won't offend someone.  So, then I think about all the blogs I know of and have read (that amounts to about 3) and am totally turned off by the drivel people "blog" about.  Does anybody really care that your cooking skills are off the chain?  Is your sex life going to change anything except your own health status? I'm convinced that none of this matters to anyone but you.  Is it an attempt to attract the attention you feel your "talent" deserves or possibly an outlet for information/feelings/blah blah blah?  Because of this, I think, "I can't blog.  I don't want to be like every other sap that blogs."  But the truth is,  I actually have a whole slew of unemotional nonsense bouncing around in my central neurological organ that might be kinda fun to let out.

So blog, it is!  I took a poll once to see what my pals would read.  The options were nursing school, CrossFit, nutrition, or the life of a super secret ninja wife with the former 3 options complicating the latter.  Of course, the votes ran the gamut, thus resulting in no blog.  I guess if I'm going to spew, I'll just have to incorporate all of these things as they are all significant parts of my life, which no one is that interested in anyway.  Between now and tomorrow, I will see what I can come up with that may pique one person's interest.  Wish me the proverbial luck!