Monthly Archives: July 2013

Training #5: Running like a split jerk

Last Sunday: 19.14 km/7:16/km pace
Tuesday: 8:18 km (including strides)/7:13 km pace

Wednesday: Jumping jacks, 20x, lateral lunges overhead driver, junkyard dog drills, 5x
CLEAN: Halting clean deadlift, clean from the floor, got to 95 lbs

HSUP/pullups (banded)/ab rollout: 4x of 5

“Look out for the neighbors”: one-arm DB push clean (40lbs), then sprints to the end of the block. 

Friday: Jump rump, thoractic switch, wrist stretches
Handstand practice (Just about able to take my second foot off the wall!)

Jerk work: Push press/press into split jerk (got to 85 with push press and 95 with split jerk)

Fatal grip rows, 3x of 12

“Game Time” 5 min, AMRAP: 40 single jump ropes handstand shoulder taps, one-arm DB swings (Pretty much, I did 20 jump rope total, but did my shoulder taps from the 20″ box and 40 lbs on the DB swings)

Saturday: 7.03 km/7:10/km pace

Sunday: 21.28 km/6:59/km pace

I ran a half-marathon today!

It was the first time since the rock and roll in March that I cranked out 13.1. It felt good but it was difficult. It was made more difficult by the route I took: Up Connecticut Avenue to Chevy Chase, MD, following the D.C./Maryland border, down through Rock Creek Park to Military Road to Georgia Avenue, turning west near Howard University, then back home. 

For those keeping track at home, that is three major hills and four trails through the Park. And lots of sidewalk to boot. 

But it did feel great. The humidity was lower and the sun wasn’t scorching so it allowed for a faster average pace than other days, which I appreciated. My main goal was to get to 21km and want to continue running. I felt that way toward the end of the run (just about 2.5 hours), but I decided to take the hill up 13th Street to my hill and that pretty much took away my desire to keep going. 

It was a good remainder of how far I have to go…which brings me to the split jerk. I haven’t gone to a Friday session at CrossFit Foggy Bottom in some time, so I’ve missed the split jerk. Most of my lifting has been the clean and I’m starting to get the gist of the full position of lifting the bar from the floor up to the clean lift. So, adapting to the jerk and the push press was very difficult. Combine that with yet another frustrating session of jump rope and it was a Friday dosage of “embracing the suck.”

Considering I’ve only been doing CrossFit since May and I started by lifting the 35 lbs bar and now can do a lift of nearly 100 lbs, I’ll take the victories as they come and accept the challenge for more. 

Training #4: Going metric and electric

Wednesday: 9.68 km, average page 7:06/km
Thursday: the Meridian Park Five, 5.41 km/41:40 time
Saturday: 6.48 km, average pace 7:07/km
Sunday: 19.14 km, average pace 7:16/km

After pushing it last week, I wanted to focus on running this week. It was very difficult, made possible by the scorching humidity (hitting about 78 on the dew point scale), but it was good.

Part of my early training is starting to switch my brain from miles to kilometers. We Americans do love our miles and feet but the rest of the world decided to go metric a while back. The Maraton is 42km, which is a nice and easy number to think about instead of 26.2. For those who don’t remember high school math (like me)

one mile = 1.609344 kilometers.

Thus, the timing is off for my American brain. I ran into this on my Sunday long run. I kept thinking once I hit 10 that I had three more km to go until I hit my goal of nearly 12 miles. That happy thought caused me to slow down a bit until I realized that oh wait, this is the metric system and I was only half-way. And it was really hot. (Did I mention it was really hot last week?)

I’m averaging anywhere from 6:15-6:50 a km which is great but it still averages out to about 10:15 a mile. I’m trying to get faster but this past week was a challenge because after 9 am, the humidity was in full force. No matter, it’s winter in Argentina…

I kick it back in with running and Crossfit this week. Mercifully, the humidity will be much lower this week and the end of the week should be downright delightful.

I also incorporated what I call the Meridian Hill Park Five. Meridian Hill Park is near my house and one of the gems of D.C. The Park is split by upper and lower tiers and it’s both beautiful and a great place to workout during the day.

The MHP5 is real simple: Run the outer perimeter of the upper tier down the stairs to the outer perimeter of the lower tier and back up to the upper tier. Make that quasi-loop five times. Intermittently, do 25 bench push ups, 25 squats, 25 jumping jacks, 25 bench step ups and 10 burpees.

Easy, breezy.

My goal is to do that in 30 minutes. I got to 41 minutes because, well, it was hot and I needed to water. And I think I had a pebble in my shoe for a moment, so that’s my excuse and I’m sticking to it.

 

30 Days of Good Food and how it helped change my life: The post script of #Whole30

First, I forgot to count down: Officially at 89 days to the Maratón!

Back in April, I completed the Whole 30 challenge. The Whole 30 Challenge is a part of the Whole 9 life, created by Dallas and Melissa Hartwig. The concept is simple: For 30 days, the goal is to eat good food and avoid types of food that cause damage to your body and cause unwanted and dangerous addictions. It’s about 30 days of intentionality, planning and purpose and ultimately, it’s you hitting the reset button and getting a fresh start.

To say that is helped change my life is not an understatement. It altered my relationship with food, what I eat, how I eat and the most important, why I eat. Close to three months in, habits that changed are still changing and I’m better for it.

But to get to that point, fellow air breathers, was a real challenge.

As a child, I wasn’t athletic but I was active. Childhood asthma stifled my ability to do many things, as did a complete lack of interest in playing high school football. (I did play junior varsity volleyball my freshman year. My position was left out.)

My family ate at fast food places often but my mother is a wonderful cook, so we ate well. I got to college and gained the freshman 15 like every other person but I was still active, so weight wasn’t a major issue in my mind.

I studied at Oxford during the fall of 2000 and while that was a life-changing experience, coming back to the States and to college was one of the worst times of my life. I struggled to re-insert back into the uniqueness of a Christian college sub-culture. My grades dropped because I wasn’t interested in my classes. I was madly in love with this woman and was convinced that we were ordained by God to be together and be married (sadly, that is not an exaggeration) but we broke up soon after I returned.

Thus, I gained about 45 pounds or so. I got to 225 lbs and stayed there, give or take 10 pounds, for about 11 years.

Coming out of the HOLE in fall 2012 and training for the half-marathon, I knew that I needed to eat better and make better choices about food. Mercifully, I was moving away from being the guy who started ‘Five Guys Fridays’ but that wasn’t getting to the root of my issues with food. If anything, I didn’t think I had any issues with food. I ate and that was that.

I had heard about the paleo lifestyle but didn’t know much about it. It seemed, well, weird and freakish and certainly not for me. I mean, the best dish I knew how to make was chicken and dressing. Here’s what’s in chicken and dressing:
chicken
sour cream
can of chicken and a can of mushroom soup
fake stuffing
mostly real Chinese noodles
very real butter on top.

I mean, seriously, a Caveman could make that.

Anyway, I found that the Paleo lifestyle wasn’t freakish (well, not that freakish) and actually, it’s pretty easy to implement. My friend M. at M = 1 (who is during her fourth #Whole30 this month and I’m so, so proud of her) told me about the grain manifesto, which led me to the #Whole30.

(As a side note, I won’t go through what the actual Whole30 challenge entails here. Click on the link at the top of this post to get all the details.)

Pretty much everything that is said will happen during the #whole30 did happen. It’s a not a big deal for the first two days, then your head starts to hurt. In particular, my head started to hurt because I eschewed coffee during my #whole30. That’s big. I’ve been a coffee drinker since I was 13 years old (again, no exaggeration) and giving that up for 30 days was the hardest by far.

After you get used to the hurting head, things become a bit foggy, almost dream-like. Then, you want to punch the universe in the face, followed by people that quickly come to mind. You get bored, then sick of eating leafy greens, then start to dream about coffee and milkshakes. Before you know it, you’re on the last week and it’s as if someone turned on a light and you begin to see things you haven’t fully recognized before. Your energy levels balance out, you sleep better and you FEEL better. And then, it’s 30 days.

In addition, these things were a big discovery for me:

I never thought more about food than during this time. Eating is an unconscious action. You think, “I want this.” So, you buy it and eat it. For the #whole30, this was the first time I had to think about every single thing I ate. What’s in this dish? What am I suppose to be looking for again? This has sugar. Does everything have sugar?

And thinking about food meant being mindful about food which meant giving a lot of attention to planning meals, figuring out where to shop, stopping to look at all the ingredients. It’s a lot of time and effort. For me, I was learning a new skill and really, that’s a bit embarrassing. I’m in my 30s and I don’t know how to shop for myself? Well, yeah.

It was one of the emotional experiences I’ve had. I’m a pretty emotional person by nature but I never equated emotions with food. Turns out that I’m an emotional eater and food has been a real comfort to me. It does make sense: After a long night in the newsroom, I’d stopped by 7-11 and get some candy bars. There’s candy everywhere (and I mean everywhere) in the newsroom. I’ve always had a strong stomach and could eat virtually anything and thus, I ate virtually everything. I ate when I was alone, I ate on my grand adventures, I ate in moments of sheer boredom.

Near the middle of the month, I started to recognize different emotions that came to the surface about many things that I had no clue were there. I felt anger at some things, disappointment and real hurt in others. Sadness over lost friendships, shame and regret and joy and delight that I just neglected to notice were present. Much of that was buried under my usage of food. And also me being a man, which leads to me to…

This is one of the most masculine things I’ve done. I posit that men have a different relationship with food than women. Men can (and often expected to) whatever they want and whatever fashion they prefer. Society frowns heavily on obese men and women but overweight men get a smile and possibly a joke or two, but that’s all. A man’s man is not one who likes his kale. It’s a man with BEER and BRATS. That’s a man who knows how to eat!

I always knew I was overweight and somewhat non-athletic and really took a bit of a perverse joy in that. I wasn’t “that guy.” Well, whoever “that guy” was, it wasn’t me and I made sure of that. I often was “the smart guy” or “the guy who does all these cool things” or “he’s such a nice guy but I’ll never date him” guy. But I sure as hell wasn’t “that guy.”

The truth was that I was scared. Terrified, even. What scared me wasn’t going on a diet or not eating dairy or exercising. It was taking responsibility. At this point, it didn’t matter how I gained the weight or what I ate. What mattered was that by going this road, I guaranteed the status quo, which was blissful failure.

However, if I succeeded in becoming physically fit, then that means active, not passive. Which means I do have control to make better decisions. Which means I’m not a victim or a martyr. Which means this is now and that was then and you have to let those 45 pounds go.

So, now they’re gone. And to celebrate…

Image

Training #3: Openness is the fullest position of strength

Tuesday: Tempo run/5mi

Wednesday: Partner wall ball/20 lbs, foam roller, lower back, lax balls teres major/minor roll,
CLEAN: 85 lbs, mid-thigh straight arm pull/power clean/squat clean
METCON: Dumbbell clean, push press, each side, renegade rows each side, athletic stance.
40 lbs, got to round six.

Friday: 30 jumping jacks, push up hand claps, shoulder stretch, spiderman stretch
Rock hollow body, handstands (can almost do a full handstand off the wall!)
Dips/Pendlay rows: 25/35lbs
CONDITIONING: 4 rounds for quality: L-sat holds, one-leg squats, bear crawl with 40 lbs.

Saturday: 4mi

Sunday: 11mi

As you can see, I went pretty heavy on the training. I’m bone tired but it’s a very good tired. I had to walk a little bit during the Sunday run because even at 8:30, it’s hot and very, very humid. Nevertheless, a good week of training.

Jim, the head of the CrossFit Foggy Bottom gym, always encourages us to open up. When we scrunch of shoulders or hunch over, it’s not a good position of strength. In fact, it’s a position of weakness. It’s a bit daunting to pull your shoulders back as you start the head to chest push ups or as on Friday, opening up while upside down. But that is the best position of strength.

Part of the road to health is opening up. That’s the goal of this blog and some testimonials of what has happened before will come soon. Yet, I recognize the dubious irony of opening up on a blog platform to whoever chooses to read this and also struggle with opening up to friends and family and those who I love and who love me. A lot of shoulder tightening happens in those moments and those conversations.

As expected, the road to good air is beginning to take shape amid old and new challenges and adversities. It’s the constant battle of committing myself daily to this task in each decision and hoping (praying even) that the results will be worth it, even if the results include not being able to run the race or travel south or whatever. Those inherently are goals and markers and a big part of the journey but they aren’t the journey itself. In fact, I won the race the day I said yes. Crossing the finish line is just my body and my circumstances agreeing.

The Gift (A Post-post modern parable about the journey of faith)

Once, a person was given a present.

The present was large and outlandish. A giant box covered in opulent wrapping paper. On the top sat a large, beautiful bow. It weighed what felt like a ton. The person struggled to pick up the present, so he placed it on the floor.

The Giver beamed as he saw the person begin to unwrap the present.

Like a child on Christmas morning, the person unwrapped it with as much energy and gusto he could manage. Visions swirled in his head about what the gift might be. Where would he have space for it? It is heavy enough to sit on my shelf? Can I carry it around to show my friends? All these thoughts and more made its way into the person’s mind and heart.

Once the wrapping paper was gone and the bow removed, the person lifted the present out of its box. To his amazement he finds not a big, expensive drawer or the most expensive stereo around. Instead, he sees another box.

This box, is slightly smaller but not by much. The wrapping paper is still expensive, the bow extravagant, yet a little cramped because it sat inside the larger box.

The person was a little surprised but then grew more excited. This must be one of those special gifts that is worth opening again! He did look through the wrapping paper of the last box, just to make sure he didn’t miss anything. No, it was just paper and an empty box.

No matter, he thought. And so, with great energy, he unwraps the second box. As the same as before, he finishes unwrapping the second box and throws the paper to the side in triumph. He expectantly pulls out…a third box.

The third box was wrapped in nice wrapping paper, but not as fancy as before. A bow was situated on top but it wasn’t as nice as the other two. In fact, it was fairly smushed because it was cramped together by the weight of the previous two boxes.

Haha, this is pretty funny, the person said to the Giver. You’re making me work for this gift! The Giver smiled and said nothing.

A little tired and a little leery, the person unwraps the third box. He is expectant, perhaps more so. Now, he’s thinking less about the size of the gift and more about the quality. Maybe it’s a key to a car or that house he was looking at the other day. Maybe, it’s a new phone or tablet. Ah, I know what it is, he thinks. It’s a backpack so I see the world! The person finds himself very excited as he rips the wrapping paper on the third box.

Once he is done, he closes his eyes to get the full experience. He lifts out the present to find a fourth box. Smaller with simpler wrapping paper and bow, this present was starting to get on the person’s nerves.

He looks at the Giver. This is quite bizarre and weird, the person says. What are you trying to get at here? The Giver, who usually is quite the chatty kind, is silent with no expression.

The person can feel himself start to lose it a little. How in the world is going on here? How much longer is this going to take? Yet, he’s already gotten this far, so he might as keep going.

As you can imagine, after he unwrapped the fourth box, the person found a fifth box. Then a sixth and a seventh and so on. The wrapping paper was now newspapers from weeks back and simple thread and string holding the box together replaced the bow.

The person was angry with the Giver, almost to the point of a blind rage. What is this madness? Is this a cruel joke? For the person, it didn’t matter what the actual gift was at the end of all of this. He was too upset about going through all these boxes and unwrapping all this paper and finding more boxes and more paper to go through.

Nevertheless, he kept going. The Giver has never seemed to be cruel or done anything unusually bad before, maybe there’s a note saying he’s inherited the house or told him where to find treasure. The person was angry for sure but if anything, he was persistent.

And so, he kept going until eventually, he got to the last box. It was tiny, with just a sheet of paper as its wrapping. The person takes off the paper and sees a ring carrier. Ah, it is a ring! Now, I can give this to my true love and we shall be together forever! I cannot wait for her to see this!

The person opens up the ring box and finds a pebble. A small stone, insignificant and contrary. It just sat there, leaving flakes of dust inside the ring box. The person picks it up and is completely surprised and befuddled.

He holds it up to the Giver and asks, what is this? The Giver remains silent to the question.

He asks again. What IS this? Silence.

He asks a third time, screaming in anger. WHAT IS THIS? ANSWER ME!

No answer.

The person has had enough. He storms out of the house and goes outside. This is what I think about your gift, he says to the Giver. With all his might, the person throws the pebble toward the road. It lands on the side and stays there.

The person is too angry to sit on the ground so he stands, looking at the road. He cannot think of anything coherent to say, or really anything of use to do, so he stands there. He then hears footsteps behind him. He turns around and sees the Giver, standing at the doorway of the house.

He faces the Giver and as he is about to berate the Giver some more, the Giver speaks to him.

I’m sorry you didn’t like your present, even though you enjoyed unwrapping the boxes so much at first. And I’m sorry you threw the stone onto the road. Yet, this is exactly what I wanted you to do.

Every person receives the same present. Some see the large box and the ornate wrapping paper and refuse to open the gift because they like the box so much, they don’t want to ruin the illusion of what the present might be.

Some start to unwrap the boxes but get annoyed or angry and just stop and put it to the side. Others get toward the end but are too tired to finish and they just leave it.

And then there are those who get to the end and discover the real present. They, like you, are confused, doubtful and question my intentions. Some carry the stone in their pocket or hang it around their necks. But eventually, they decide that the stone deserves to be on the ground and thus, they throw it onto the road.

And it does deserve to be on the ground because that’s where it belongs. You see, what you think is a rejection is really a foundation. That stone, so small and ordinary, is now the ground you walk on.

So go, leave this house. And walk.

 

Training #2: Rhythming

First off, we are 99 days away from the Maratón!

Monday: 4.65 miles (4 mile plus strides), average pace 11:24
Thursday: 4.28 miles (3 miles steady, 1 mile fast), average pace 11:08, 9:48
Friday: Crossfit, Skill reps 5 rounds of Floor press (8 reps at 85 lbs), chest to bar pull-ups (5 reps at medium banding), banding good mornings (8 reps) Metcon: 125 simple jump ropes with handstand holds with broken reps

The key to this week was rhythm, finding it, staying with it and not getting led astray. This week was tougher with the Fourth and the start of a D.C. summer and also made tougher by an Egyptian revolution and me needing to get pro bono work done.

Finding a new rhythm is hard, easy and really hard. Once your heart and soul make a commitment to change paths and go in a new direction, it’s easy to get your legs moving. But then your mind (both your brain and your full essence) has to catch up and that is the hardest part of all. It seems like the brain is always lagging, busy playing host to anxiety and stress and always be mindful of what is unknown.

While I feel more settled in a new rhythm with paleo, running and CrossFit, my brain is seriously lagging in this whole process. Much of it is incredulous thinking (Seriously, a marathon in ARGENTINA? Couldn’t you have gone to Baltimore and been okay with it?) and my constant level of anxiety seeming to hit peak levels.

What is helping is a vision of crossing the finish line and while I’m almost done, thinking back at this whole process and knowing that it was worth it. Every early morning, every struggle and every anxious thought that is overcome. All of it.

Speaking of struggle, jump rope…uhhh, yeah. That needs work. The good news is that I’m now quite good at handstand holds. Silver lining, perhaps?

I need some inspiration…help me Johnny!

 

Happy Independence Day, America!

I finally got myself out of bed to go run. My worry about the heat and humidity almost stopped me, but I figured that the longer I waited, the hotter it was going to be when I did get up.

I’m glad I ran because it was very nice. Humid but overcast and a decent breeze. People already were setting up shop at Meridian Hill Park to get the prime spots to see the Mall fireworks tonight.

This is my fourth Fourth here in D.C. and it’s still one of the great perks of this city. Whether going up to the roof at work or being with friends at or near the Mall, it’s a special touch to be in the Capitol during Independence Day. It’s overrun with tourists and way too damn hot, but it’s totally worth it.

Happy Fourth, everyone! I’ll leave you with the best rendition of the National Anthem, IMHO.

The Way it is

I came across this poem by William Stafford and it conveys what the road to good air is about.

“The Way It Is”
There’s a thread you follow. It goes among
Things that change. But it doesn’t change.
People wonder about what you are pursuing.
You have to explain about the thread.
But it is hard for others to see.
While you hold it you can’t get lost.
Tragedies happen; people get hurt
or die; and you suffer and get old.
Nothing you do can stop time’s unfolding.
You don’t ever let go of the thread.