Trouble Walking? Me? No! I'm just...CrossFitting

So tonight is my third CrossFit class this week and fourth total. A few things I've learned this week:

1. Somewhere between fifth grade and today, I forgot how to jump rope. This skill simply evaporated from my repertoire and I look like an absolute fool even attempting it. I trip over the rope, get the rope caught in my pony tail, miss a foot and tangle myself in the rope. It's sad, just sad. My solution is to buy a jump rope this weekend and practice.

2. I never knew what sore meant until now (well really until my marathon). I can remember being sore, or what I thought was sore after training, but this is a new level. My legs are so sore, I can barely sit down and stand back up. The stairs become a tremendous feat, hell even walking is difficult. Every time I roll over in my sleep, I wake up from the severe pain and effort it takes to move even the slightest bit. My body hurts!

3. I used to think squats with dumbbells were a pain...that was until I started doing over head squats and wall balls. Now, I'd give anything to squat with a 12lb dumbbell.

4. Thank God I trained for two years - the skills I learned are certainly coming in handy. While there's no doubt I feel like the new kid on the block at CrossFit, at least  have some sense of what I'm doing...sort of.

Tonight we're doing upside down push ups (yeah right), pull ups (I'll be doing a modified version), box jumps (again, they'll probably have me to a modified version), toe to bars (ha, yeah right) and MORE squats. We'll see how it goes. I'm enjoying the challenge and the discipline and accountability I have by going back to some form of training - it helps to keep me on track. I'm also trying the paleo diet, although very modified  and only every other day. I do miss carbs . . . I'd like a bagel.

What gives me hope, is that if I keep it up, hopefully in six months, on my 27th birthday, I'll feel a sense of real accomplishment seeing all these expected changes in my body. And hopefully I'll be a ripped beast!

Here's hoping I can walk tomorrow!

CrossFitting!

I finally took the leap and attended my first CrossFit class at the CrossFit Danbury box yesterday. As I've mentioned in previous posts, I worked with a personal trainer for about two years and ended up losing close to 40 pounds, which I gained in college (forget the Freshman Fifteen, it's the Freshman Forty!). Working with my trainer Amanda, I substantially increased my strength, endurance, everything. But since I've moved, I've been looking for something to replace that training. Not to mention, for the past four months I've been mainly focusing on my running...and since the marathon, I'm ready for a change of pace.

Thanks to a new colleague who joined my office a few weeks ago and my friend Brian's encouragement, I finally went to my first "beginners" class yesterday. Before diving in, I had all these scary thoughts about what I was getting myself into. All I could think of were all the intense, beast-like photos I had seen of friends lifting insane amounts of weight. I was nervous I'd embarrass myself or not be able to keep up.

Thankfully, all that personal training came in handy. I was able to keep up, despite some of my lingering marathon issues, and felt relatively strong throughout. I think we came on a day with a fairly easy WOD (Workout of the Day), as my friend Brian promises me it's going to be much more intense, but I've decided to commit to going three days a week, starting next week. Brian assures me I'll be a ripped beast in six months, so here's hoping!

Honestly, it was amazing how supportive and encouraging everyone was. These were people I had never met in my life, telling me I was doing a good job and helping me to make sure I was doing the exercises correctly - definitely a change of pace from the typical gym. There is also a level of competitiveness, which for anyone who knows me, knows I love. I think this could end up being really good for me, although I promised Karen (Brian's wife) I won't get too obsessed - we'll see!

I'm looking forward to continuing with it. Not sure if I'll adopt the paleo diet that comes along with CrossFit, but I am pretty confident I'll reach my goal weight through this program, as long as I stick to it. And maybe even make some new friends...which we all know I need to do since I moved.

Here's the WOD I completed yesterday:

1. STRENGTH/ SKILL WORK
5X5
PRESS
REST 60 SECS
5 STRICT C2B PULLUPS
REST 60 SECONDS

2. WOD
4 RFT
400M RUN
12 PP 95/65

So here are my main CrossFit goals:
1. Get to my goal weight
2. Do a pull up
3. Do a full push up (chest to the ground - as of now, I can do a very small one and totally kick butt on the girl version!)

So if all predictions are accurate, by April, I should be a ripped beast. Here goes nothing!

26.2

Gosh, who would have thought a marathon would have taken so much out of me, physically, mentally, and emotionally. With that said, I'm happy to report that I completed the marathon! That's right, this body took me a whole 26.2 miles and I crossed the finish line.

And here's all the gory details: The Saturday a week before my marathon, I went on a quick, three-mile taper run...not even a mile into the run, I hit a piece of uneven ground and as luck would have it, I sprained my ankle. After screaming a couple of expletives, pain and disappointment induced of course, I hobbled back to my parents' house. After making my way to the chair and icing my ankle, I just burst into tears. I had trained so long and so far for this marathon and a week before, I sprain my ankle. Go figure.

The following Monday, I hopped on a plane to Orlando for a big work event, with my ankle wrapped tightly, still painful and still swollen. I got through the week, although on very limited sleep and not without some major travel disruptions (including a cancelled flight, waiting on the tarmac for an hour, another six hour delay, lost luggage, etc.). My ankle was still black and blue and still swollen, but I had put in so much effort and just couldn't let this injury sideline me.

So the race began...I felt alright, although my quads were super tight. Around mile nine, I re-twisted my ankle, which was painful. I kept running. At mile twelve, my ankle gave out again. I kept running. By mile 16 or so, I was hobbling/jogging, but I kept going. Around mile 22 I had a mini breakdown, wondering if the race would ever end. I started to tear up. I asked God to just help me through it, and as if he knew I needed it, a song that means so much to me, "Be Still," by The Fray started playing on my iPod. At that point, I just knew I had to keep going...and keep going I did. It took me six hours...should have taken me a little less than five, but with the ankle, I was just happy to cross the finish line. My friends and brother cheered me on the entire way - meeting me at every check point with their homemade signs, screaming for me to keep going, and even breaking out into song at one point - Journey's "Don't Stop Believin'." I couldn't have done it without them.

After the race, I could barely walk. My brother had to half carry me to the car and throughout the next few days I can honestly say, I have never been so sore in my life. I couldn't stand up or sit down without incredible pain in my legs. Even as I slept, whenever I turned over, my body would scream with pain. A week and half out though, I'm starting to feel better, although I still have some hip pain and oddly enough, my feet still hurt a bit in the mornings. My ankle is still swollen, although the black and blue has subsided. I'm still debating if it's worth heading to the doctor, because my gut is telling me I might have a stress fracture. I'm testing it out tonight at the gym, for the first time in a week.

Although my plan was to run one marathon and then stick with half-marathons and shorter, I'm not so sure that's the case. I really want know what I'm really made of and knowing my time should have been so much better, I think I'll starting training again come the spring. I can honestly say I'm not looking forward to the sores all over my back, the endless long distance runs, the gu chomps and gels...but there's nothing that compares to crossing the finish line knowing you just ran 26.2 miles - no one can ever take that away from you, no matter what the time was, no matter the circumstance...I proudly display my 26.2 sticker on my car, despite it all.

Until the next race  . . .

Bye Bails

It took me a week to get my emotions together to write this blog entry. Last Monday my parents called me and insisted I call them back as soon as I got to my apartment after work. Of course I knew something happened. My thoughts started racing - who could it be? Something happened to someone I loved...and then it hit me, it was Bailey. Sure enough, when I finally reached my apartment, through the tears already welling in my eyes, I asked my parents, "Is it Bailey?" All they had to say was yes and I knew what had happened to our 12 year old yellow lab.

I'll be honest, I have never been so emotional over an animal in my entire life. And I guess to some extent, Bailey wasn't just an animal, she was a member of our family. I remember when we went to pick her up, somewhere near Evergreen, Colorado. My brother and I didn't know we were getting a puppy, but I remember how thrilled we were when we realized it. The breeder brought the dogs in, a line of five or six yellow lab puppies. Then came a straggler, a puppy walking in a bit slower than the rest. She stopped, looked at us and proceeded to pee on the floor. We knew then we had found our dog.

We named her Bailey, after the first town we ate breakfast in in Colorado. Little did we know, Bailey is a pretty common dog's name. But every time someone told us they had a dog named Bailey, my dad would always say, "Yeah, but I bet they're not named after Bailey, Colorado," and sure enough, they never were.

Bailey was an amazing dog. She wasn't "anyone's" dog really, but loved each of us equally...although I won't lie, I think she was partial to my Dad and me. When I left for college, the first semester I was gone, Bailey took all her toys and piled them up outside my door . . . if that's not a sign, I don't know what is.

I have the fondest of memories of my puppy. From our long runs, to eventually our long walks. I remember playing fetch with her and letting her sleep in my bed (against my dad's protests). She used to sleep literally like a person, with her head on the pillow, taking up the majority of the bed. I remember how crazy she'd get after the bear would pay us a visit and I remember how much she loved just laying outside in the garage watching people walk by. She never ran away, never bit anyone, and would never take a treat until you told her it was ok. She loved it when I spilled ice in the kitchen, because she'd get to lick it up and she couldn't stand my mom cleaning her ears. She gave high fives and kisses and would immediately run for her bed when you told her it was time to go "night night." She was simply the best dog we've ever had.

I went home last weekend and my mom told me Bailey had been bit by a bee. Her ear was swollen with fluid and I spent most of Saturday researching how to make it better. We gave her benadryl, I tried to get her to let me ice her ear, which wasn't easy. Mom and dad planned to take her to the vet the following Monday to see if they could drain the fluid. But it was more than just a bee sting. Bailey's allergies were worse than ever, her paws were swollen and chewed and it looked like she was developing a tumor on her paw. She had an extremely difficult time climbing the stairs and would often wait at the base of the stairs for hours until someone forced her to make the trek. She was getting old and while none of us thought she'd go this soon, we all knew it was coming. The vet said she was in a lot of pain and he felt it was time. My mom made the decision and that was it, our beloved Bailey Bails was gone.

The first few days were difficult, I cried even thinking about her. The days have begun to get better, but even as I write this post, tears are welling in my eyes. Bailey was part of our family for nearly half my life...wherever we went, Bailey went. Whenever I came home, before I even said hello to my parents, I yelled out for Bails. It's still unbelievable to me that she's no longer here. I think part of me feels like she's just at the kennel and Mom and Dad haven't gone to pick her up yet...but I know better.

I know my puppy-girl is in a better place, she's not suffering anymore, she's at peace, but it still hurts. I still miss her. We were truly blessed to have such an amazing dog. I'm thankful she loved us as much as we loved her and deep down I know she's up in Heaven playing with her stuffed "babies" without a care in the world.

Take care old girl, be good, we love and miss you Bails.

Another Fateful Day

I spent my weekend in Delaware celebrating my two best friends' birthdays. It was a great weekend at the beach, laughing, eating, and simply having fun together.

The weekend was kicked off with the Dark Knight Rises on Friday evening. We bought our tickets weeks ago, but little did I know what would occur between then and now. As most everyone in the country knows, during a midnight showing of the Dark Knight, a gunman entered an Aurora, Colorado movie theater and unleashed havoc in the form of bullets, killing 12 and wounding dozens more on Friday morning. 

When I woke up Friday morning, I saw the news articles plastered all over Facebook and on the internet. My initial thought was, "Oh no, not again." And as I continued to read those articles, without fail, almost every one included a paragraph about Littleton, Colorado, a mere 20 miles away.

Fourteen years ago, if I mentioned I was from Littleton, people would hardly react - they'd simply ask where that was and if I liked it there. But as of April 20, 1999, that changed. Now when I say I'm from Littleton, people pause and say, "Ohh," as if they're not sure how to continue the conversation. It's something I've unfortunately grown used to over the years.

As the news reports continued regarding the Aurora shooting, without fail, the ultimate comparison was made. Broadcasters proclaimed, "This is the state's largest shooting since Columbine," as if it's some sort of achievement to outdo what Dylan and Eric did so many years ago.

But I'd be lying if I said I didn't have my own flashbacks to that day. With the news of this shooting came a flood of memories; my classmates crying in gym class as they told me what happened, the school lock-down, the helicopters swarming overhead, not being able to reach my parents because all the phone lines were jammed, running a dead sprint home so I could hug my mom, huddling around the television trying to find out all the details, my dad trying to reach us from Texas, learning of the friends we had lost and those injured, paying our respects at Clement Park, our church Pastor burying Dylan and the aftermath that came, and the constant analyzing of what we could have done better, what we missed, what didn't we see? And the realization that at the end of the day, "We Are All Columbine."

I have a lot of mixed emotions when it comes to this latest shooting. Anger, sadness, disbelief. My heart goes out to all those wounded, killed, and affected by this heinous act. And my heart breaks for a state that has been rifled with extreme loss, from Columbine to this year's devastating wild fires to the Aurora shooting.

As I watch the news unfold, I wonder what life will be like for my future children.  After Columbine, my school experience was drastically different in many ways, not to mention my own life and personal views on school violence and bullying. And one has to wonder, will going to the movies become an altered experience now too? Will my children be able to live in a world without metal detectors and heightened security? It's doubtful as the very places we're supposed to be safe, continue to become outright danger zones.

And so now, the comparisons will continue. The media will try to "dissect" the brain of a mass murderer - Why did he do it? Did he have a rough childhood? Was he mentally unstable? What signs did we miss? How can we prevent this from happening again? To be honest, I don't care. The fact is, he chose to murder innocent lives and at the end of the day those are the people who matter. Let's talk about them and the impact they had. This man, he doesn't deserve to even be mentioned, let alone given his 15 minutes of fame in the media spotlight.

Because the truth is, no one will ever really know why he chose to act this way. At the end of the day, no one will be able to understand what drove this madman to inflict such pain and violence on a theater of innocent move goers, just as I will never understand why Dylan and Eric chose to unleash their own pain and misery on their classmates and my friends on that fateful day in April 1999.

The fact remains, these are trying and dangerous times. I only pray there's a light at the end of the tunnel and this senseless violence stops. Until then, I'll keep all those victims in my heart, mind, and prayers.

Stay strong Colorado. Stay strong.

The Countdown Begins

So in just 73 short days, I'm competing in this little thing called a marathon. When I signed up for the race back in February, it seemed like I had all this time to train and prepare, but with just over two months left, that doesn't seem to be the case anymore.

I was sticking to a running schedule and then went on my work trip for three weeks, which definitely stalled some of my training. But I'm happy to say I started a new 16-week schedule once I returned and have stuck to it for the past month. I'm up for a ten mile run on Friday and will brave 11 miles in the Arizona heat next week, while I'm on vacation with my parents.

I would be a total liar if I said I wasn't scared to compete in this marathon. Let me tell you now, I am terrified and in all honesty have no idea how I'm going to finish it. Don't get me wrong, I have confidence in my abilities and every time I complete a long run, it's never as bad as I thought it would be, but let's get real people, 26.2 miles is a friggen long way to go.

I keep thinking about how I felt after my half marathon last summer. When I hit mile 12, I was "seeing Jesus" as they say and verbally praying aloud for God to help me finish the race. When I crossed the finish line, I remember my cousin grabbing me and yelling for one of the race officials to give my my medal. I remember her putting the medal over my neck and me just saying, "Cheryl, I hurt. I hurt a lot." My knee was swollen and not feeling too hot because of my overly tight IT band and I ended up working with my trainer for a few months after the half, just to get my IT band back to normal. I remember going to bed that night, after the half marathon, oddly enough on an air mattress (I was staying with my cousin, so real bed space was limited). I remember being in so much pain that when I went to readjust or move in my sleep, I woke up with the searing pain of aching muscles.

And thus I admit to you, I am terrified to run this marathon.

So what's my plan for the next 73 days? Well, I'm definitely sticking to the schedule. When I trained for my half, I kind of made up my own schedule and I think maybe ended up adding too much mileage each week. This will not be the case for the marathon.

I'm going to run the Lynchburg half for a second time in August, about a month before my marathon, so that should gauge how well I'll do. I'm also going to be joining the local Crossfit here in Danbury after my vacation, which should help with overall fitness and maybe help me shed a few more pounds before the race.

I'm also purchasing my very own foam roller, which I've been putting off for far too long. This means I'll be a stretching, foam rolling machine up until the big race.

And finally, I plan to overhaul my diet over the next two months, to really focus on consuming food as fuel and not simply because I like it. Although I lost 40 pounds over the past two years, I've been lazy and allowing myself one too many indulgences. Yes, I've kept the weight off, but I haven't lost anything either, and that has to change. But it's really less about the weight and more about giving my body the energy it needs to friggen run 26.2 miles. This means more veggies, more fruit, more high protein and less low fat mini cupcakes (yes they do exist), cups of cereal before bed (hate that I've reverted to that nasty habit again), and carb binges.

The good thing about all of this is that I committed, I paid the money, I'm running the race. Whether I run, walk, or crawl to the finish line, I will complete it. I don't care how long it takes me, because this is one of those moments in life, where it's all about the journey.

Let the countdown begin  . . .

The Reality of Miss Advised . . .

So it's that awkward part of summer in TV-land - the period where all the great shows have wrapped and the late summer shows have yet to begin. It's what I like to call reality-TV Hell. While I never got into Jersey Shore and always thought when you'd turn the TV off after having watched that show you were significantly less intelligent then when you turned it on, I have to admit, I have a pretty long list of reality TV taking up precious DVR space. My list of guilty pleasures includes: the Real Housewives (Jersey, New York, and Ocean County), the Bachelorette (she's totally visiting Prague next week!), Sister Wives (seriously, I can't get enough of them), Tia & Tamera, Kendra on Top, and as of 24 hours ago Miss Advised, a new show on Bravo.

I watched Miss Advised for the first time last night, the premier episode. The show, which is produced by Ashley Tisdale believe it or not, is about three relationship experts living in NYC, San Fran, and L.A. Each one has their own take on relationships and even has their own rules, but as luck and reality would have it, they have trouble actually following their rules.

As I watched the show, I was amazed at how horribly inexperienced my dating life seems to be. I mean don't get me wrong, I have some pretty good dating horror stories (yes, I'm talking about you Mr. Know It All, who said because I was smart, educated, had a good job, and understood business, it was hard to believe I was a woman), but these ladies seem to find a guy around every corner, have a date every night, and blog to tell about it the next day. It's clear these ladies didn't just move to Danbury, Connecticut, because let me tell you, the dating scene isn't exactly booming here. I digress!

I'll admit, I definitely saw some of myself in two of the ladies - Amy Laurent, a NYC matchmaker meets up with her ex-boyfriend who's in town for the NYC marathon. After meeting him for dinner she realizes maybe she's isn't quite as over him as she thought. Yeah, been there, done that. And Julia Allison who goes on a date with a guy with personality potential, but not so much looks. She even asks him to help her move boxes into her new apartment, only to let him know that evening that she really just wants to be friends - oh yes, been there too. Julia even has a 75-point checklist for what she wants in a future husband - don't we all?

I'm not really sure why I let this suck me in last night - I sometimes wonder why these dating shows exist at all...yes it's a guilty pleasure and I'm sure it's supposed to inspire women to take their dating life by the ... well you know, and find that perfect guy. Or maybe it's supposed to demonstrate the pitfalls of other ladies dating escapades, just so we can feel better about our less than lackluster dating lives. I'm not really sure, but at the end of the episode, I think it made me feel worse about the whole dating scene. I'd love to see a reality show that wasn't focused on women trying to snag a guy - is it really that horrible for a career-focused woman to be single? Is it really that awful to not have a boyfriend? Sure, sometimes it feels like it, but mostly I believe women should embrace singlehood - get to know themselves first, understand what really makes then happy, before they start following someone else's rules for hunting down Mr. Right. Just my two cents!