Work was batshit over the weekend. I haven't been to so many Code Blues in a some time. On the plus side my run as Angel of Death seems to be over, as all of the Codes I attended this week ended with the patient making it to the ICU. I'm pretty okay with not going to any more codes for a while, though. It's cool.
I packed plenty of good child lunches over my 7 days.
Going for maximum color.
I don't see Kirk the Nutrition Guy until Monday this time around. No appointments today, which is actually okay by me this week. I'm always bloated as shit when I come off nights, no idea why, but it's consistently an issue so I know I'm not imagining it. Since my total water was down last time I've been making a concentrated effort to drink 120oz of water every day. That's a lot of water. That's also a lot of peeing. And it seems unfair that I should be bloated with kidneys that are practically floating up to my eyeballs. Fortunately a good night's sleep usually resents my puffiness switch, so after 10.5 hours last night I was feeling much better this morning.
I'm pretty sure I saw 4 abs this morning. It was fleeting, and they were gone after breakfast, but...hope is alive, people. HOPE IS ALIVE.
The CrossFit Open began today. 5 weeks of (usually evil) workouts. This will be my fourth? Open. Every year it pushes me to try things I wouldn't ordinarily attempt. There's also a great sense of community and shared striving for improvement that I find exciting. Yes, I could just do the workouts without signing up...but if it motivates me to step outside my comfort zone? It's worth the $20 registration fee.
After my very restful night's sleep I made myself a cup of coffee and got the kids off to school. Then I cooked a giant breakfast. Today's WOD was a 20 minute slog of lunges, burpees, and pull-ups. Historically I start to fade around 15 minutes into a long AMRAP. Mostly because I was underfeeding myself. No underfeeding today.
I paced myself through the workout and felt good about my score. By the time I finished judging my partner (the fantastic Jessica who's broken toe meant she had to do walking lunges all on one leg) I was so hungry I was ready to gnaw my arm off. Glad I packed a little snack for after. Amanda beat me, but not by much, and I am way older.
Then I hung around and shot the breeze for almost an hour. I could have run an errand or been otherwise productive before yoga, but I didn't want to. So I sat around at the gym (well, stood...after all those lunges I felt it was better not to sit in case I couldn't get up) and ate my snack and talked about silly stuff. It was fun.
Maybe I shouldn't have done extra pull-ups, but it's hard to resist practicing now that I can do pull-ups. I'm terrified that they will go away suddenly. Yesterday I did a crapload of them after the workout, even stringing them together (like 3 together, but still). I did stop short of tearing my hands open, but only just.
I just want to do all the pull-ups, m'kay?
I only made it to yoga once this week-on Sunday. Monday was the party and Wednesday fantastic husband had CME and I had to stay home with the smalls. I missed it. So I went to the noon hot yoga today, after that 20 minute monstrosity, and you know what? It was great. I'm pretty sure all the stretching will keep me from turning to stone later. Hopefully I can get in for a session tomorrow morning. I need to get in a long run, and it's supposed to be beautiful tomorrow. 8 miles or so followed by yoga would be divine.
After bendy time I stopped in at Healthy BellyZ next door for a smoothie. I was hungry to the point of slight dizziness after class (seriously, WTF is happening to me? I'm like a bottomless pit right now) and didn't want to wait until I got home to eat something. I basically had a chocolate shake. But like, a nutritiony one.
I did mention I was hungry, right?
Now I'm sitting around blogging while I wait for it to be time to pick up the smalls. Then it'll be snacks and trying to figure out what to feed them for dinner. I'll think of something. I'm feeling some chicken salad for myself. Gotta find a way to squeak in some legumes today.
Figuring out pull-ups was a huge thing for me this week. Bear with me while I get super corny for a paragraph or three. I never thought for a minute of my life that I would be able to do a pull-up. Ever. I talked about it. I worked on it even. But in the back of my mind I really thought that it would never happen. That I could get close, but I'd never get my chin over the bar. I'm too old, too fat, too weak, too...whatever.
And then it happened. I hopped up on a high bar and did a fucking pull-up like it was nothing. I was even able to hold myself up over the bar, so I know it was legit. I was so surprised that I sort of squealed and shouted. Yes, I did one last Wednesday. One. And it was fucking ugly. Flailing ugly. But not yesterday. Yesterday they just happened. And it felt like a fucking miracle. So I did a bunch more. And then some toes to bar. I could transition from pull-ups to toes to bar. These are two movements that I couldn't do at all last year.
So many things that seemed outside of my reach have become reality for me over the last 6 months or so. I can sustain sub-9 minutes miles over distance. I can do a freestanding handstand. I can bind a side angle pose and stand up into Bird of Paradise. I can do a shitload of GHDs in no time flat. I can do motherfucking pull-ups.
The question becomes: Who the Hell Am I Now? Now that those seemingly insurmountable barriers have fallen...now what? I still have that sub-2 half looming. But if that happens...what next? These things have been out there in "Goals but not like actual goals because whatever" land for so long. For the first time in as long as I can remember I have no goal weight. Not even a secret one.
What I have learned is that you have to celebrate every success. There is no "too small". Every big change I have seen recently is the result of relentless, incremental forward progress. There were weeks...shit...months when I was dragging myself forward by millimeters, and I just wanted to stop. I've spent so much of my adult life starting and stopping. What if I just don't stop? Work and kids and illnesses and my basic slothful nature...they all get in the way. But I'm realizing that if you just keep moving forward, no matter how slowly, one day you'll be at your destination. And it will be a revelation.
So here's what I am now. Shooting for a 200# back squat. A 300# deadlift. Chest-to-Bar pull-ups. These are my new goals but not like actual goals because whatever.
I'm scared. Hold me?
(But not really. No touchy.)