Sigh of Relief, and Alternately Deep Breath of Preparation

Well, suckas, I did it. I was terrible, but I did it - I completed the Ultimate Fitness Challenge and even managed to leave with some of my dignity intact.

For those of you new to this blog, a recap - I set out a while ago to test and challenge myself in a completely new way by competing in a 160-yard obstacle course and fitness skills event. Surrounded by women who were obviously former cheerleaders, gymnasts, dancers, and life-long athletes, it wasn't hard to pick out which one had spent most of her childhood dreaming of being an athlete instead of actually being one. Not only was I the sole glasses-wearer, I was solidly at the bottom of the pack in skill, athleticism, and overall abs asthetics. I'm active, I workout a lot, and I compete in endurance events, but this was a different kind of sport. This was like some kind of diabolical cult that believed the true path to redemption was through a combination of plyometric training and brute strength. I was intrigued. I was thirsty for Kool-Aid. In short, I wanted to see if I could hang with the big kids.

So back in March, I attended a training camp as a benchmark to determine what kind of training I needed to focus on. It was a pretty revealing trip - while I was a big fish in a small pond in my little gym, here my ability was laughable. It was pretty clear that I had a lot of work ahead of me. But instead of feeling discouraged, I was energized and couldn't wait to get to work. I returned home with a list of skills to master and a deadline looming, and since then I have alternated between working my butt off, having temper tantrums about training in a new way, and fending off nervous breakdowns as I realized the enormity of what I had obligated myself to. More than once I wanted to back out; more than once I contemplated changing my identity and denying any knowledge of myself or tri-fitness. Heather who? I'm sorry, you must have me confused with someone else. Someone crazy.

But I didn't do any of those things. I sucked it up and drove to Tampa. Eight months later, it was time to see what all of that sweat had gotten me. I showed up, reunited with friends made at camp, and braced for impact. If you've been reading this blog, you know that there were some definite doubts in my mind - box jumps and hurdles being the standouts. But I figured I was there to have fun, chart my progress, and challenge myself. Luckily, I managed to do all three, as well as make some new friends and have a perfectly wonderful weekend. Awwww.

Fitness Skills was Friday night. When I walked into the training facility, the first surprise was realizing there would be an audience. The second was that the audience was positioned very close to the action. Like, close enough to read my mind, which made me feel a little guilty since most of what was going on up there was profanity-laced. Since I don't make a habit of putting myself into situations where I am the underdog, I was self-conscious and nervous. And when I noticed that the girl next to me, all 4 feet 11 inches of her, had abs that looked like they were made of plastic, I was surly. It turns out she used to be in the circus. THE CIRCUS. Luckily, the focus of tri-fitness is to improve on your personal best, not beat anyone else. Thank the freaking Lord for small blessings. (By the way, she won Grace and Physique and is just the cutest thing ever.)

We started with the killer - 50 jumps on and off of a 21-inch box as fast as you can. As you know from previous entries, this was my weakest event. Al Rosen, the angel of a man who runs Women's Tri-Fitness, asked if I wanted to run them instead of jump. I meekly answered yes, ashamed that I was not better prepared but grateful for the pass. I ran the 50 steps without trouble; as an endurance athlete I was in my element and confident. And I wasn't the only one - several of us struggled and everyone cheered everyone else on as if we were carrying the Olympic torch.

Next was the bench press - maximum reps at 60% of your body weight. I had completely flaked on the strategy of making it to the early weigh-in, and by the time I recorded my weight at 4:00 in the afternoon at check-in, I had eaten enough food and had enough water to bump me into the next weight range: 80 lbs. I had been training with 70 lbs, so I didn't know what to expect. I was not at all happy with my performance considering what I am usually able to do. But, I recorded it and moved on. Next time.

The final event was the shuttle run. Back in March, I had never done this before and had terrible technique. Since then, I have improved tremendously. I still have some work to do before I become really good at it, but I was pleased that I didn't drop any bean bags and I never missed a target. I left feeling somewhat redeemed even if still a rookie.

Saturday morning was the big day: the obstacle course. The 160-yard course consists of a 10-foot wall (scaled by rope), a running grid, incline/decline monkey bars, a balance beam, a 15-foot cargo net, quick shuttle run, then three low hurdles, a steeple-chase jump, an under bar, and an overbar, complete with a 10-yard sprint to the finish line. It is a timed event. Back in March, I was pitiful. It took two grown men to get me over the wall and I merely stepped over the hurdles because they scared the bejezzus out of me. This time, I still didn't make it over the wall but completed the other obstacles, although I did hook the second hurdle and fall, twisting my ankle and forcing me to step over the third. When I got to the finish line, I was sad that what had taken me 8 months to train for was over in just over a minute (the best time was 47 or so seconds). But I also knew it wouldn't be my last time.

I sucked - let's get that straight. I was not good. But from the reactions of the women around me of support, encouragement, enthusiasm, and genuine friendliness you would think I had won first place. Tri-fitness truly is one of the most supportive athletic environments I have experienced, and I am so glad to have found it.

After the rest of the competitors were done, we had a few hours break before the final portion of the challenge - Grace and Physique. I chose to spend that time watching football, since I was not competing in this event, choosing to undergo the physical challenge and not the emotional. Grace and Physique consists of a pageant-style demonstration of your physique, complete with bedazzled bikinis, stripper heels, and false eyelashes. There is also a Fitness Routine portion in which competitors complete a 2-minute gymnastic-style routine and are judged on their ability to demonstate different strength and agility moves. Three of my friends were competing in Grace and Physique and one also in Fitness Routine, so after helping out backstage adhering bikinis to butts and confirming that one's spray tan was even, I moved to the audience to observe. I have to admit, I have scorned this event in the past as petty and sexist. And yes, it was because I was jealous. As I watched, I saw women who were proud of their work (and it is work) to reach their body's maximum genetic potential, and I started to bedazzle my own bikini in my mind. I just may compete next year, and let me just tell you now, my suit is going to knock your socks off. Eye of the Tiger. That's all I'm going to say.

To say that the Ultimate Fitness Challenge was a worthwhile experience could not be more of an understatement. It changed my entire outlook on fitness. Not only did I see the very evident payoff from my training, I truly challenged myself in a way that had intimidated me before. And as cheesy as it may seem, as I drove to Tampa and thought about the path that I have been on for the past year, I felt like just by training differently and overhauling my nutrition, I had already won. I had moved beyond simply going to the gym and working out. I had a sport. Cue the inspirational music!

It feels really, really good to show up at the gym now and just work out without a deadline looming over my head. I'm glad to have a break from plyometrics and shuttle runs and thinking about boxes and how much I hate them. I'm looking forward to some 10ks and a sprint triathlon and P90X, which cranked up in my DVD player yesterday morning. And, come next summer, I'll get out that damn box and start getting ready for November 2010. I'm hooked.

I owe a crapload of thanks to Al Rosen, Bernadette Schimnowski, and everyone at Women's Tri-Fitness,; my trainer Brice Lockhart ("Captain Awesome" to you blog readers); Mike, Jenny, Tracy, Tamara, Jamie, Erika, Dee, and everyone else at BodyTrac Fitness in the 5:00 and 5:30 morning crews; Laurel Blackburn at Boot Camps to Go; Coach Gary Droze at Maclay High School; Kari Bosse, Vivian DeLuca, Karen Moore-Caton, and Cara Ingram: my own personal cheering squad; and all of my family and friends who were kind enough to not laugh when I told them I was doing this until I was safely out of earshot.

And in case you're wondering, this blog is not over. Stay with me as I tackle P90X, a sprint triathlon, and return to the Ultimate Fitness Challenge next year. Hell, come along with me. I'm tired of being the rookie. :)

It's the Final Countdown....

I am almost positive I have already used this title for a blog post, but, well, sorry. It IS the final countdown. For real this time.

As in, less than a week from now I will be done with the *&$#ing Ultimate Fitness Challenge. To answer everyone's question this week, no, I am not training my brains out. I figure if I am not ready by now, there isn't much I can do to change that other than get pregnant or get on the fast-track for performance-enhancing drugs. I'm pretty sure they will make me sign something to promise that I am not pregnant. But if they don't then I am totally going to get pregnant and sue!

Just kidding. I won't do that. In fact, I am really looking forward to going and giving it my all, even if my all includes landing on my butt after one successful box jump, which is what happened this morning, much to the alarm of the gas station attendant where I was practicing. Aw, man. I could have sued him. Oh well.

And I am walking around with a silly grin basking in the glow of the well-wishes I am receiving from friends who know that this is likely the last time they will see me walking upright. People say, "the next time I see you.....!!!!!" and then give me a thumbs-up like they're really excited but don't really know what to say. It makes me wonder how they are completing that sentence in their heads. I just smile and give them a thumbs-up back and say, "I know!!!!!"

My last week of training is not nearly as intense as I expected it to be. For one, I am really super busy at work and with other stuff, so my time is limited. But also, I've kind of already moved on. Right now the course feels like something I need to check off of a list so I can move on to the next challenge. I feel like I've already met the goal just by having come as far as I have over the past year in my personal physical fitness. I'm glad for that feeling, because I think it means I can just relax and have fun.

I also feel pretty good because I finally nailed a few box jumps. Granted, they weren't on a 21-inch box (it was on this weird wall/bench thing at my lunchtime gym that I think is about 19 inches) but I landed on top, hopped down, and jumped back up. And after practicing more this morning, I think that someday I could actually be good at them.

Truth is, I have worked pretty hard. Not as hard as I could have, not as hard as I should have, but hard enough to feel like I can do it. I don't see any way that I can realistically train more in the 24 hours of each day without being called up by Child Protective Services for neglect. I don't see how I can eat any healthier than I do, and I say that honestly. I cross-train, eat clean, sleep well, drink lots of water, and laugh a lot. I feel strong and fit and we'll see if that translates into my being able to haul myself over a wall.

If not, I'm suing God.

I Have a Doubt

I can only come up with two explanations for my state of mind when I decided to do the Ultimate Fitness Challenge: either I was under some type of mind-control device created by irresistable aliens, or I was just kidding but forgot I was kidding and really did sign up. Regardless, I am making a note to NEVER let either of those things happen again because now I am stuck two weeks from the event and feeling completely unprepared.

I have never doubted my ability to do something, and I say that honestly. My immediate response to a challenge is always, "of course I can." It may be difficult, it may take a while, and it may not be the most impressive execution of the task, but I sincerely do believe that if I study, work, and learn what I need to know, I can do anything.

But apparently that ends with box jumps.

As I've mentioned before, part of the fitness skills portion of the Ultimate Fitness Challenge is a timed event consisting of jumping onto a 21-inch box fifty times as fast as you can (and after practicing and not getting any better, I am willing for "as fast as I can" to equal 15 minutes). The first time I tried this, back in March, I couldn't even do one. In subsequent practices, I have been able to jump on shorter boxes but only made the 21-inch box a couple of times. I've fallen, gotten bruised, gotten scraped, and gotten back up to try it again. But man, I'm tired of this shit. I know I can do anything, but I don't even want to do this.

So I decided to seek help. I called the toughest woman in town, Laurel Blackburn, who runs a business called Boot Camps to Go. I had met her before and have some friends who work out in her gym, so I felt okay about Facebooking her and asking if she could help. She was generous enough to say yes, and before too long I found myself walking up to her warehouse facility, which turned out to be one of the neatest gyms I've seen. Hers is a no-frills zone for people who want to get a good sweat and don't mind skipping the shiny cardio theatre with the built-in TVs and high-tech water coolers. My favorite part was the places where her victims - er, clients - had written favorite quotes on the walls. Some were funny, others motivational, and one stood out as being my immediate favorite: you can't out-train a bad diet. How I wish I had learned that around, oh, birth.

Anyway, moving on. I showed up and we got to work. She had set up a few "training wheel" scenarios to help me build up to being able to jump on her plyometric box (which I coveted because she has really nice ones) on my own. We used bands, bars, gymnastic mats, and even a huge monster truck tire that she has at the gym's entrance, the purpose for which I really would rather not know.

The thing is, I sucked. Powerful sucked. I really just could not do it without assistance. I got close a couple of times but not even close to where I needed to be. It was very frustrating. As boot camp class members started to show up and I had to leave, I felt like I had learned some valuable strategies, but I was disappointed in my ability.

The next morning, I got up and drove to the gym determined to practice. I headed over to this big mound of concrete that happens to be about two-feet high and decided to get stubborn and try it until I succeeded. But 20 minutes later, I gave up. I felt terrible. It was the first time in my life that I actually considered the possibility that I could not do it. I really hate to say, "I can't," and will instead use, "I have not yet been successful." This was the first time I actually thought, I might not be able to do this. I'll tell you what - it sucked. Powerful sucked.

I literally felt sick to my stomach, like the wind had been taken out of my sails. I was actually doubting myself, and this was unchartered territory. I wanted to get back to my home base as soon as possible.

It's stayed with me all day, this nagging feeling like I really might not be able to do this. On one hand I can convince myself I just need more time to practice, and that maybe I can't do it this year but over time I will get better. On the other hand, I really don't care if I ever jump on anything ever again and really don't intend to practice this after the challenge is over! So I guess I'll have to chalk this one up to a mystery, and I am happy to leave it there.

I'll keep practicing over the next two weeks, but I hope whoever is in the audience at this thing has some time to kill, 'cause 50 of these suckers is gonna take a while.

Taking My Chances

So anyway, where were we? Oh yeah - I was sitting here trying to figure out whether it was confidence or fear keeping me from my training and realizing that regardless, I was quickly running out of time and needed to stop being philosophical and get back to work. So I did. Or, at least, I planned to. I had a beautiful plan, the kind of plan I dream about. I was organized. I was motivated. I was prepared.

And then, I was sick. In typical higher-power fashion, God decided to force me to rest my sore, swollen Achilles' tendon (from hurdle practices, no less) by smiting me with a sinus infection. A week lost. Now, the old Heather would have made her sinus infection talk to the hand (cause the face ain't listening) and powered through anyway. Mind over matter! But the new and improved Heather remembers last winter, when that modus operandi resulted in an emergency room doctor sharing very stern words with her at 2:00 in the morning, and the subsequent three weeks of lost training time while she recovered from herself. That sucked.

So, I pulled the brakes. Stayed away from the gym (and off my ankle) for five straight days, and even went to the doctor. Yeah, I sulked and complained a little, but I was also kinda proud of myself for the whole learning-from-my-mistakes thing. Go me!

And I figured that while I wasn't working out, that opened me up to be philosophical again. I revisted my little quandry - confidence or fear...confidence or fear? Was I less than disciplined in my training because I felt reasonably sure I could accomplish the course? Or was I just avoiding facing how unprepared I really was? In the end, I felt like I had turned a corner when I decided that no matter what, my performance on the obstacle course was not the sole determining factor of my wellness. The ability to scale a wall, jump hurdles, climb a cargo net, and jump on a box is pretty kick-ass and I can't wait to count myself among the women who can do it, but ultimately, I just want to go out there and challenge myself and have fun.

What I have learned in this training process is that I have definite preferences in the world of wellness - endurance sports are much favored over explosive skills, natural health is preferable to performance-enhancing nutritional plans, and emotional satisfaction with my level of physical activity is way more important than checking a workout off of a list. As I come into the final three weeks of training, I feel like I've gotten to know myself a lot better. This is truly one of the most meaningful things I have ever done.

Now, that's not to say that failure on the obstacle course is okay, or that I am just setting the expectation for a less-than-stellar performance. I am still dead-on determined to tackle that course and own it. I'm just willing to take a little more time to do it.

I'm almost all better now, thanks to rest and antibiotics. I went back to the gym this morning, albeit taking it slow and not staying for extra cardio, as much as it killed me to do so. I'm looking forward to doing sprint intervals on the treadmill tomorrow and working my way back to my normal training schedule. I did, however, manage to spy one side effect from my prescription:

"Levaquin may cause swelling or tearing of a tendon (the fiber that connects bones to muscles in the body), especially in the Achilles' tendon of the heel."

Hmmm. Perhaps God isn't quite done with me yet. Eh, I'll take my chances.

The Ultimate Inspiration? A Deadline.

So I have less than a month to go until this obstacle course and despite my best intentions, my training is getting put on the back burner. I can't decide if it is because I am just sick of doing it or if I am subconsciously sabotaging myself, but either way it is not getting done.

I'm spending a lot of time in the gym working on strength, doing fun sweaty cardio, working hard and enjoying my workouts, but when it comes time for box jumps, I think of an excuse. When I know I need to go to the track and practice hurdles, something comes up. Some legitimate, some not-so-legitimate.

The challenge consists of four parts: the obstacle course, a fitness routine, grace and physique, and fitness skills, which is comprised of a bench press at 60% of your body weight, a shuttle run, and 50 timed box jumps. The fitness routine and grace and physique portions were never a consideration for me; I am not that bronzed/shiny/bikini and heels girl. The obstacle course and fitness skills, on the other hands, were right up my alley. Then, after I attended training camp in March and assessed what I thought I could accomplish in six months, I decided to train just for the obstacle course.

And then I got stupid.

I was online, registering, and checking off the events in which I would compete. I checked the course and moved on. I was at checkout, reviewing my cart, with my finger hovering over the "submit" button. And then, I backtracked, checked "fitness skills" and submitted my order.

Sitting back in my chair, I wondered what I had just done. And why I had done it. Well, okay, I knew why; I can't back down from a dare. But also, I knew that I had signed on to this idea with the goal of having a challenge. If I wimp out at the last second, where is the challenge?

Never mind that I still have work to do on the course itself. My plans to travel to Tampa to practice have been consistently derailed, and time is ticking by. I have not made the time to train as I should, and I am running out of time to rectify it.

The thing is, I like the thrill of a deadline. I habitually procrastinate and then pull something out at the last second and manage to make it just under the wire. I work best under pressure, fueled by midnight oil and stubborness. So this is pretty much business as usual. Heather 101. But I didn't want to do it this way.

So there is pretty much one choice - quit whining and get my butt out there and do it. One month. Less than a month.

What the hell was I thinking?

When in Doubt, Make it Up

So last weekend I escaped the heat and misery that is the American Southeast and drove to the beautiful blue ridge mountains, planning to take a short break from my training and just relax. Read, watch some football, look at leaves...you get the idea. And at the last second I shoved some running shorts and a sports bra into my suitcase. You never know!

But I did know.

Of course I was going to train! The weather was too perfect - 50s, overcast, almost raining - and the scenery too beautiful to spend it inside. So on Saturday morning I laced up my sneakers and set out to run the loop around our cabin, which somehow strangely manages to always be uphill regardless of which direction I am running.

And then ... I went the other way. My legs just turned the other direction and I headed down the road, away from my trusted loop, and down the gravel road that leads to the paved road that leads to town. In a characteristic completely unlike me, I decided to go with the flow and see where this ran took me. After all, I was on vacation. Why not explore a little bit? I vaguely remembered that the last time I went running beyond the circle, I was running with my dad and he nearly killed me with some vicious hills. I decided to pretend I had just dreamed that.

As I jogged along and enjoyed the silence of nature, I took stock of my surroundings. The leaves were turning red and gold, the air was rich and fresh, and I truly felt lucky to be alive. I wanted to breathe in every part of the sensory treat I was getting, starting with maximizing my access to a challenging workout in a new setting. Opportunities for obstacles were obvious all around me, so I took some inventory and mapped out a circuit workout for the next day. Vacation schmacation - for me, the opportunity to work out without time constrictions is a vacation!

I took note of a fence where I could do decline push-ups, a small rock wall perfect for step-ups, a tree stump where I could do some box jumps (God I hate those), and a little set of old stairs to run up and down like Rocky. I also saw what may have been evidence of someone else's obstacle workout involving a small piece of wood leading to a stack of logs, and accented ominously with an axe. I skipped that one.

That night, like the nerd that I am, I wrote it all down (always write down your workout if you are going alone so you don't get distracted or tempted to slack!) so I could review it before I left the next morning. It felt a little like Christmas Eve, if your idea of a fun start to Christmas morning is running a circuit outside in the cold and rain. Which mine kind of is. For real, that would be fun. Who's in? Okay, we'll talk later.

The next morning, husband asleep and child busy "helping" Grandma make breakfast, I stepped outside and wondered how challenging this would really be. Figuring that the worst case scenario would be a good run and some calisthenics, I decided that maybe being happy with the workout regardless of its difficulty would be part of my vacation mentality. Well, the real worst case scenario would be me falling into a ravine as a result of attempting box jumps on a wobbly tree stump and my cries being lost in the snap, crackle, and pop of bacon frying and coffee brewing inside the warm, dry cabins for the happy families who are ignorant to me precariously clinging to life just outside their door. But that couldn't happen twice in a row, could it?

Luckily, the workout was challenging and I survived it intact. I ran downhill to the paved road, and then ran uphill back to the house and around the circle, pausing every couple hundred yards when I reached one of my obstacles. Hooking my ankles onto the lowest rung of a fence to do push-ups, sprinting up the concrete steps that used to lead to a house, and doing step-ups on the stone railing of a bridge not only got my heart pumping, but it refreshed my morning in a way that another trip to the gym could not. Sometimes being on vacation doesn't mean taking a break from the daily grind, just making it a little less daily.

I'm back at the gym now and glad to be there, but it was fun to challenge myself to find a way to get a good workout out in the woods. I've decided to keep a set of gym clothes at the ready in my suitcases, car, and office. You just never know. :)

I'm Not Your Sugar Mama Anymore

Hello! I am writing to you today from my new digs: my old self. :) A couple of weeks after giving my old routine the finger, I am back in business as a lean mean cardio machine. And I must say, there are some pretty nice things happening these days in the abdominal area as a result.

I'm running intervals. I'm doing laps. I'm doing the elliptical. I'm doing the bike. I'm popping in the weight room for another round of strength before heading upstairs to Pilates. I'm downloading Jillian Michaels on DirectTV. And now that the weather is nicer, I am strapping the kiddo in the bike seat and heading out around the neighborhood looking for hills.

I am finally back on cloud nine and all it took was a ninja kick to popular thought and a return to gut-check living. Isn't that always the way? I mean, I don't want to make a big deal about it, but I was kind of right in the first place. You know, in case you were keeping track. That's two points for little old me.


So I read an article a few weeks back about how for many runners, the endorphins can actually become addictive. Cardio slaves will find themselves craving their daily fix, becoming grumpy when they can't work out, and resorting to unflattering and compulsive measures to alleviate stress, like heckling other runners from their cars as they commute to work or demanding that everyone in their office do walking lunges whenever entering or exiting the elevator, both of which seem perfectly reasonable to me. For me, endorphins are a pure example of getting out what you put in. The more I exercise, the better I feel. The better I feel, the more I want to exercise. People ask me all the time where I get the energy to exercise as much as I do and the honest and true answer is that I get the energy by doing it.

But I think something else is going on these days. I think my sudden return to civilized society has more to do with what I have removed from my life than what workouts I have added. Today, in Pilates, during a roll-up, I started retracing my steps back to a not-so-distant past when I was so tired and bitter and grumpy I could barely stand myself. I tried to determine what was different in my life/work/nutrition between then and now, and it all came down to just having a lot more energy now than I did then. At first I chalked it up to eating more complex carbs. But then it hit me - it's what I'm not eating.

Processed sugar.

I am six weeks out from my fitness challenge, so I've been making a huge effort to clean up my nutrition. I know, I know, you're wondering what I could possibly have to clean up. And, since I already eat clean, there isn't much work to do besides watch the wine and keep an eye on portion sizes. But as of the middle of August, I am 100% sweets-free. No cookies, no brownies, no candy, no birthday cake, no chocolate-covered espresso beans (I blame my husband for those). For real. None. And I could not care much less.

Like most people, I have been plagued by a sugar addiction for a looooong time and have tried to give it up time and time again. But, it was not until I finally booted artificial sweetners to the curb that I found my sweet tooth starting to disappear. At the beginning of 2009 I ditched diet soda and other fake sweeteners, and now 10 months later am realizing I have not had a baked good in two months and never missed it. Previous entries of this blog even contain praise of my weekly chocolate that I used to feel like I needed to stay sane. Well, I am sane no more! Wait, that didn't come out right. You know what I meant.

Anyway, I stopped eating crap and now I have more energy than I know what to do with. Coincidence? Maybe. But I don't think so.


Regardless, I am soaking up all of this love from the cardio gods and so glad that I connected the dots today. I love how giving up sugar sneaked up on me and caught me by surprise. I never expected that, which makes it...all the sweeter. :)

Have a great week!