Monthly Archives: August 2013

Training #8: Lending a hand(stand)

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First off, the countdown: 47 days until El Maratón!

Tuesday: 5.88km, avg 7:44/km

Thursday: 11:30km, avg 6:03/km

Friday CrossFit: mobility drills, handstands (first full handstand off the wall!)
Push press, 5×3: 95 lbs
8:00 AMRAP: Jump split squats, explosive push-ups, sit-ups, dumbbell swings (40lbs). Two full rounds plus 5 pushups

Saturday: 8:17km, avg 6:47/km

Sunday: 22:84km, avg 6:36/km

This past week was the week this became work.

Like I mentioned last week, the initial excitement and motivation has worn off but the trip to South America and the marathon is still far out in the distance. Now it’s habit and internal drive that’s pushing me along.

The weather got hot again and while still recovering from the Jesus Year Extravaganza, I struggled mightily on Tuesday. Schedule to go 8 km, I barely covered 6 km. Thursday was much better, but running in the afternoon without bringing water was a bad decision. Thank God for Starbucks (yup, that’ll be the first and last time you ever read that phrase on this blog).

CrossFit saved me this week. I was able to complete a full handstand off the wall. It took a slight adjustment and shift in perspective and before I knew it, both feet were off the wall. Once it registered, I yelled (upside down, mind you), “Holy Shit, I’m doing this!” As a result, I lost my concentration and fell down. And that experience best sums up my training at this point.

It’s amazing that this is happening and it’s still a bit surreal. It’s now to the point that my neighbors are noticing that I’ve lost weight. My dentist stopped his examination half-way through to ask what my secrets were. I’m noticing photographs of myself and it feels like I’m looking at a different person. Really, it’s a new me.

But that’s only part of the goal and really, it wasn’t the primary goal. The primary goal was to have my outsides match my insides. For me, how I feel and how I’m starting to look is how I feel and how I really look. It’s a relief to feel that way. Again, I’m only half-way there.

For every handstand I complete, there’s runs that I’m struggling to finish. Saturday’s run was good but the Sunday long run was brutal. It was really by God’s grace and extra energy gels that I completed 23km. After a busy weekend with friends in town, the start of another fantasy football season and additional sugar and alcohol, I was sucking wind big-time.

I tried to imagine the finish line and how I’ll feel when I cross the line. That helped me finish. But once the marathon is completed and in the past, there’s another finish line I want to cross. And another. And another. My ultimate objective is to do the work. Keep doing the work.

Training #7: At the half point

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Wednesday (CrossFit)
Bear crawl, duck walks, crab walks, banded shoulder stretch

CLEAN: 95lbs, lift from the ground, working on technique.

Assistance: 4×6 banded pull-ups with pause, side lunges (20lbs)

Metcon: 5 rounds, db swings (40 lbs), bear crawl, 2:46.

Thursday: 9.91 km, avg 6:54/km

Saturday (birthday run!): 10.38 km, avg 6:27/km

Sunday: 25.18 km, avg 6:04/km

As of today, we are 53 days away from el maratón!

In terms of training, I’m about half-way complete. Another 6 or 7 weeks to go and it’ll be October.

I’m feeling stronger and faster. My times are getting better and I feel more competent at CrossFit. In my mind, I’ve crossed the threshold of thinking/dreaming this could happen to tangibly envisioning crossing the finish line to making it a reality.

From what I’ve heard, this is the danger zone. In the marathon, the half-way mark is second hardest part to endure, after the Wall. The runner is settled in and now the initial excitement and energy has worn off. The finish line is off in the distance and right now, it’s the runner and the road. And that’s it.

It still requires faith to realize that the finish line will be there when you get there. For me, I think that it’s not running toward the finish line but the finish line running toward me. But that’s a long way off still. Now, it’s not a dream or a vision or a bet. It’s work. Hard work.

While each run is getting easier, training is getting harder. I can’t over-train because I need to conserve my energy and be mindful of injury. I can’t under-train because I need to be prepared. I can’t get too ambivalent but I can speed the process up. The days are going to come and go regardless of how fast or slow I’m running or training.

This requires patience and discipline, two things I’m not good at doing. But that is part of the training as well.

Another component is getting back up after a fall. I haven’t fallen while running yet, mercifully, but I took a nice pitfall during the birthday weekend with sugar. As I mentioned in my post about the #whole30, I’ve struggled with sugar for many years. I eat mindlessly and easy access to sugar hasn’t helped the cause.

So, there was the birthday sundae on Saturday and the beignets before that and the other chocolate cake the night before. Nothing too bad. But the pop tart from Ted’s Bulletin yesterday, that was the start of the end. By the end of last night, I pounded down a bunch of ice cream after a day of real struggle with sugar. YIKES.

It’s a new day and while I’m feeling the agony of my decisions (and another sign that the paleo diet does work), it’s time to get back on the saddle, each more fruits and veggies, and do the work.

How to Not To (The official Jesus Year Manifesto)

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Today is my birthday. It’s the start of year 33 (or is it year 34?) and it’s my Jesus Year.

For those who don’t know, the Jesus Year is the celebration of your 33rd birthday. It’s a bit crass and possibly sacrilegious but hey, what a great idea!

I had plans and notes to write a legitimate manifesto. Seriously, you would have been impressed by it. A diatribe on the collapse of adulthood rituals, the tragedies of ascenders who never come back down to Earth and references to indie bands and comic book heroes. And a recipe for honey apple pork to boot!

But that seemed to defeat the purpose and really, do you want to read my philosophical treatise on growing up in this day and age? (You do? Well, it’s way more interesting if I tell you over wine and vegan cookies.)

The best way to summarize my guiding philosophy is this illustration I read in the comments sections on Ta-Nehisi Coates’ blog at The Atlantic. (By the way, his postings on learning French in Paris are recommended reading.)

In your hand is a cup, on the table is a quart. The cup is what you have now, the quart is what you see you could have. But to take the quart, you have to put down the cup, and so, for a few moments, you have nothing at all.

I’ve been fortunate, lucky even. I’ve lived in great places, had wonderful experiences in work and have met some of the most amazing people on this planet. I’m truly blessed to have learned quite a bit so far.

What I’ve held is great and what seems in front of me is grander and yet elusive. It’s more than circumstances or more life events; it’s the demanding desire to move forward, purposely. I don’t want to get older or accumulate more stuff because I have to or out of default.

Rather, I want to move toward a place, a place I only hear whispers and rumours about so far. They say that space is hard to get to but once you find it, that’s where the good stuff is.

I don’t quite know where I’m going but I know I’ll get there. I want to get there with expectation and wonder, combined with experience and sobriety. It’ll take the rest of my life to get there but I have faith it’ll be worth the journey.

I can list tactics and strategies about this year: Run the Buenos Aires Marathon, finally learn the Charleston, help Jose and Perla improve their reading at Reading All-Stars. I want to cook a kick-ass fritatta and make paleo brownies. There’s this cute girl that I want to ask out but I keep losing my nerve. I want to wear more red clothing. I need a new couch.

Those are all markers and goals. Worthy goals.

But the main goal is to have no goals. My purpose going forward isn’t to learn but to unlearn. To be willing to be without so I can get to what I can be. In doing that, I can be better at serving and caring for others.

As T.S. Eliot wrote, “We shall not cease from exploration, and the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started and know the place for the first time.”

That’s a journey worth taking. So, here’s my manifesto and I hope to stick to it.

See you on the Road to Good Air.

A Capital Birthday

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I finished a 10k on a gorgeous D.C. afternoon. It’s almost scary how beautiful it is and its prognostication of a cold winter. But no matter.
This time last year, D.C. was in all its swampy glory. I had aimed to run from my place to the White House and back. It’s about 4 miles total and despite the incline coming back, it’s a very pleasant run.
But I wasn’t ready and it was too damn hot. I didn’t want to turn the next age. More accurately, I didn’t care. My goal was to make it through the year and move forward. Birthday be damned.

This year, however, it was time to run.

I’m sure the tourists are besides themselves. It’ll be warmer next week and I’m sure our heat wave will come on Labor Day. For now, it’s bliss.

I turn 33 tomorrow and start my Jesus Year. It’s gonna be something.

Happy running!

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Training #6: About the scenic route…

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Tuesday: 9:43 km/avg 6:24/km with strides

Wednesday: Jump rope, 5 min, mobility stretches, clean (focus on proper technique and squats), 85 lbs, pull ups 4×6 (banded), banded good mornings, 4×12

Conditioning: 5 rounds, dumbbell clean and split jerk, 4x at 30 lbs, side shuffles. Time: 3:41

Friday: 7:06km, avg 6:23/km

Saturday: 6:46 km, avg 6:39/km

Sunday: 28.04/km, avg 6:39/km

I ran a full marathon this weekend. Really, it wasn’t my fault.

Sunday’s long run was meant to be 23km. I knew the route and was ready to go, even after two previous days of decent-size runs and somewhat humid weather.

Making my way into Rock Creek Park was easy. The weather was nice, a cool breeze ruffled the leaves on Beach Drive. Lots of runners, walkers and  bikers were out. It was a great time to be out.

Alas, I was supposed to turn left on Beach Drive to get to Oregon Drive, which would have dumped me on Western Ave (the border between the District and Maryland). Well, Apple Maps had other ideas. Instead of left, I went straight. Four kilometers, I got onto the Rock Creek Trail. Four miles to Connecticut Avenue. Okay, that won’t be too bad.

The trail wasn’t bad but I should know by now that Connecticut is always bad. ALWAYS. I eventually got to Connecticut Avenue. It should so happen to be Connecticut Avenue at 495. (If you’re like me and don’t understand D.C. directions, just know that 495 is the Beltway and a hella far distance from where I live in the District.)

After walking a mile, I figured there’s three options to get home: Walk, get a taxi and hope it costs less than $5 or, well, run. I have to do the mileage anyway, so off I went. I was tired as hell and my legs weren’t happy but I’m glad I did it. I experienced the mid-race slump at mile 13, which is pretty crucial to understand and have a game plan to overcome. I had plenty of energy gels and after a quick stop at the Chevy Chase Safeway, I was good on water. So, three hours and some change later, I got 18 miles under my belt.

It also gave me a confidence booster in knowing I really can finish the marathon race. I’m about half-way through my training and barring no injury God willing, I’ll be able to go the distance.

Another training score was Wednesday’s jump rope session. After mounting frustration on the blasting jump rope, I was about to give up and as a Hail Mary pass, I tried looking down at a spot on the gym floor and watching when the rope neared my feet so I knew when to jump.

In previous posts, I’ve lamented my complete lack of rhythm, jumping too soon, jumping more than I need to, stepping on the rope, etc. Everyone looks up when they’re jumping rope, happy, content and full of rhythm. I look forward and just feel my feet step on the damn rope. Looking down wouldn’t hurt at this point.

Then, it happened. I saw when to jump, when to land and when to jump again. It took my brain a few moments to process that I just completed 10 singles in a row with no problems. I tried it again. Another 10 singles. I focused on an unmovable point on the floor and allowed myself to move around it.

A small victory but a big one.

 

Training #5: Speed in the time of change

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My apologies for the late post. This would have gone up yesterday but big news at work delayed this.

Tuesday: 7.57 km, average 6:29/km

Wednesday:

Mobility: Mountain climbers/dive bombs/spiderman stretch

Clean and jerk: 105 (new PR!)

Handstand pushups: 3×5

Tabata: barbell rows (85lbs)/burpees = 57 total.

Thursday: 8.06 km

Saturday: 10.17 km, splits from 6:40/km to 4:59/km

Sunday: 12.92 km, average 6:16/km

I’m getting faster and stronger. My negative splits exercise Saturday was one of the best ones I’ve had. Granted, our freakish great weather helps immensely but I can feel the training starting to took hold. The key is to maintain the pace, not over exert or over-train. Keep going, one step at a time.

As you can guess from the news above, lots and of major change in the horizon. With lots of talk about “security” and “stability,” I’m always leery of folks who stake everything on those types of things. Don’t get me wrong: Stability and security are important, in its proper context. What’s more important is resonance and meaning. Those elements come with more risk and greater need for vulnerability but the reward is worth it.

Anyway, onward!

Time and weights: How to properly fail and let go

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I  PR’d on my clean lift yesterday (105 lbs, which might not seem like a lot but considering I was struggling with the 35 lbs bar when I started back in May, I’ll take it). A nice accomplishment for me and a good barometer of how far I’ve come in CrossFit and in overall fitness.

My biggest struggle on the clean is letting go of the bar. Specifically, letting go of the bar as I swing it up to catch it. In order to successfully clean, the elbows need to make a near 90-degree shelf as you catch and squat, in order to maintain balance and keep the thrust of your lift in your hips and legs. In order for that to happen, the hands have to let go of its grip on the bar and allow the bar to slide back into the fingers. That allows the elbows to come up faster and takes much of the weight off your forearms and onto your chest and core.

Everything else is coming together but that letting go is a real doozy. (I’ll stop here and say that yes, this is a wonderful metaphor for life. Duly noted and moving on.)

Jim, my instructor, after always yelling “HANDS!” every time I forget to let go of the bar, mentions that the trick isn’t the grip but the knowledge that you can bail if it doesn’t work out. Back during our Foundation class, we spent much of the lifting time learning how to bail if we can’t lift the weight. Jim took great pains to emphasize that learning how to let the bar drop isn’t a failure as a whole, just a failed lift. And it’s no longer a failed lift once you get back and try again.

The ability to fail correctly been the biggest source of confidence in the early going of CrossFit and running. When I started running, I had sharp pain on the top of my left foot, which would hamper my running schedule. I clung to that schedule because I felt if I missed one time or didn’t do the training run exactly right, I wouldn’t be able to finish the half-marathon. It was only when a fellow running friend said that if you need to stop and rest for a week or two, you need to do that rather than over-train and cause injury. Two week of rest later, much of the foot pain was gone.

Technique matters in CrossFit and that includes the right technique in bailing from the lift. You follow the direction of the bar because at that moment, the bar is in charge. Take a step forward or backward and let the bar drop. The key is decisiveness. Don’t hesitate, else you’re in the way. And the weights are impartial to interference.

These lessons ran true in a Wall Street Journal article on how long it takes to get over a traumatic event. The answer is it takes a lot longer than you think. On average, it takes about two years to deal with, process and move on from an event such as a divorce, a job loss and so on.

The difficulty of such an experience, as anyone who has gone through such a traumatic time will say, isn’t the initial shock and anger, as painful as that is. It is the long, messy journey of renegotiation. As the article states,

Some experts call this recovery period an “identity crisis process.” It is perfectly normal, they say, to feel depressed, anxious and distracted during this time—in other words, to be an emotional mess. (Getting over the death of a loved one is more complicated and typically will take even longer than two years, experts say.)

Some people may find they need less than two years to bounce back from a divorce. But experts caution that it probably doesn’t pay to ignore the process, hurry it along or deny it, say, by immediately moving across the country to get a fresh start or diving into a new relationship. That will probably only postpone the day of reckoning.

This article resonates with me as I remember my job loss back in fall 2009. Much of my initial struggles and the long journey that has come from it wasn’t just finding a new job or figuring out where to stay in the District or leave, but it was the sense of not knowing how to deal with this properly. I didn’t know how to fail.

I had never failed professionally and I was very proud of that. Now, I failed big-time and much of my emotional energy went toward trying to reclaim a sense of dignity that was no longer around (and really, wasn’t needed anymore). I didn’t know how long to deal with the process or how much would change because of the job loss. More so, I had no clue was the outcome was going to be. The fear that life as I understood it would be different but how different it would become was something I couldn’t have fathomed.

Time passed and the anger subsided but depression took hold. However, the time in the HOLE had a focus and a purpose: To shake loose that which is no longer needed and re-plant those things that matter.

Eventually, a new rhythm emerged and with that, a new Self arose from the ashes of what I thought was my calling here in D.C. and really, my set of anchors on which I claimed my identity.

I went through the HOLE and made my way in exile, which has led to me now and the end of that journey and the start of a new adventure: The one you, dear reader, are reading about now.

It’s been about 3.5 years since I was fired and I can now say that was one of the best things to have happened to me. Among other things, I learned to fail. Your job doesn’t define you, nor does the weights on the bar. When it doesn’t go well, step back, take a breath and try again.

Before you know it, you’ll have a new personal record.