I continue to drip sweat even as I write this. A shower of funk raining down on me. Today I started the T25 home workout my friends Amelia and Ben recommended, nay made me borrow. This is sorta like CrossFit done at home (code for staring at you, making you feel guilty for not doing it 24/7). I recall Amelia saying "It's challenging, but it's only 25 mins.", I guess I didn't fully grasp just how long 25 mins is.
I love the concept, using your own body weight with simple exercises and you don't have to look cute to go to the gym. But clearly I was underestimating the power of the DVD.
I decided to pop this baby in the DVD player and jump right in...in my PJs. Why would you work out in your PJs you ask? Was I wondering where my workout stuff is? Was I afraid if I went into the bedroom I would loose my impetus to actually try the workout? Or am I just THAT lazy? Probably the last one.
The warm up quickly accelerated, I suppose they have to get after it if they are going to attempt to kill you in less than a half hour. My long ponytail became a sharp whip against my back...this did reminding me a little of CrossFit...then as the sweat worked it's way down my face, my ponytail swirled around my head, sticking in clumps over my eyes, as if it was trying to shield me from what would come next.
Lunges would come next. Those painful, torturous lunges. Why does everyone love lunges?! This damn workout had plenty of them of course, and why not? Why not send my body back into shock, reminding it of the horrors of the CrossFit beat-down (this is the term I am adopting for the week of CrossFit hell I spent in Albuquerque). Lunges moved into various jumping movements that not only made me wish I'd put on a sports bra, but made me uncomfortably clear that I must wear lycra because that clapping wasn't a group of fans admiring my beautiful physical fitness...no, that was my ass slapping the back of my thighs.
Just when it couldn't get any worse and the thought of quiting started to whisper to me, came the negative talk:
"You could squat deeper"
"The pretty girl is jumping, why can't you do that move while jumping?"
"Faster!"
"That isn't very graceful"
"Your knees are no where near how high they should be"
"It isn't break time!"
"You look funny"
Was this what I needed while I worked my butt off? NO! So I suddenly stopped, wiped the bucket of liquid effort off my forehead and told my 9 year old son to can it! I mean seriously, as if I don't have enough horrible things to tell myself, I really don't need a snarky preteen with nonstop commentary adding to it.
After that, I am thinking running is sooo much easier. I mean all you have to do is move yourself down the road, no lunges, no jumping, no little people critiquing you. So tomorrow...tomorrow, I'm back to running. I mean a girl needs a break!
-Cheers from the Vivác Winery Family!
www.VivacWinery.com
Running on Wine; from Marathons to Rafting to "Fueling" on the Patio, We are Fueled by Vivác.
Wednesday, July 29, 2015
Thursday, July 23, 2015
When you Love to Hate it
It is a strange feeling to look at last week and think "I almost died". CrossFit almost killed me, yet here I am. Last Friday, I completed my final workout at the Albuquerque gym that promised to 'tighten' my sofa body in shape for a PR filming piece happening for work this week.
Last Friday morning, I woke to a much improved sore body (meaning I didn't cry). The countless Salonpas I'd taped literally all over my body helped beyond words can express...and maybe that bottle of wine helped too (I must interject that if you have not found the little strips of medicated awesomeness that are Salonpas, you MUST). I left the hotel worried I wouldn't come back after yet another beat-you-to-a-bloody-pulp workout. I'd be something like the consistency of oatmeal, a permanent part of the floor mat at CrossFit. I said a little melancholy goodbye to the air-conditioned, fountain filled, lovely hotel lobby and headed toward certain death.
The look on the faces of the instructors and other crazies was one of pure shock as I wobbled in. I think they mistakenly thought the fact that I showed up meant that I ...1) liked this torture and 2) was ready to work harder!
Like someone suffering from PTSD I can only share snippets of what happened to me. The reality of the gore and pain I endured is too much for me to relive, so I give you 2 words 'burpees' and 'rowing'. Turns out they DO have machines at this gym, sadistic rowing machines.
In regular CrossFit fashion the 2 exercises were a combination of back and forth and LOTS of pain. By the end my Barbie look-a-like friend was swinging her gorgeous just-the-right-amount-of-body long blonde hair out of her face to beam and encourage me that "we can do this!". I've decided she might be a Stepford Wife, there is no way her happy demeanor during this ridiculous workout could be real. By the end I sat on the rower with both legs shaking involuntarily, violently reminding me that I had pushed too far, my stomach raised its own objections with bile surfacing to my mouth, I was a mess. I was oatmeal.
I did manage to walk out of the class, eventually, and I think they were relieved to not have to call an ambulance. I promised to never see them again as I would be returning home soon. But now, at home in my safe little village, a CrossFit free zone, I hate to admit that I miss it! It feels like an abusive relationship. I think I need an intervention.
I'm back to all my old excuses...my iPod isn't working, my kiddo would need a babysitter, it's too hot...this is a downward spiral. I need the tough love of a CrossFit team that won't let me give up and scares the crap out of me. Is that a thing? Exercise by way of fear?
BUT, everyone can rest assured my complaining has not ceased as I am signing up for a 30k race (18 miles off road)! So I guess I will now be forced to set down my glass of wine and start running again. Of course not today, today I'm already dressed in a cute outfit and have a wine drinking date.
-Cheers from the Vivác Winery Family!
www.VivacWinery.com
Last Friday morning, I woke to a much improved sore body (meaning I didn't cry). The countless Salonpas I'd taped literally all over my body helped beyond words can express...and maybe that bottle of wine helped too (I must interject that if you have not found the little strips of medicated awesomeness that are Salonpas, you MUST). I left the hotel worried I wouldn't come back after yet another beat-you-to-a-bloody-pulp workout. I'd be something like the consistency of oatmeal, a permanent part of the floor mat at CrossFit. I said a little melancholy goodbye to the air-conditioned, fountain filled, lovely hotel lobby and headed toward certain death.
The look on the faces of the instructors and other crazies was one of pure shock as I wobbled in. I think they mistakenly thought the fact that I showed up meant that I ...1) liked this torture and 2) was ready to work harder!
Like someone suffering from PTSD I can only share snippets of what happened to me. The reality of the gore and pain I endured is too much for me to relive, so I give you 2 words 'burpees' and 'rowing'. Turns out they DO have machines at this gym, sadistic rowing machines.
In regular CrossFit fashion the 2 exercises were a combination of back and forth and LOTS of pain. By the end my Barbie look-a-like friend was swinging her gorgeous just-the-right-amount-of-body long blonde hair out of her face to beam and encourage me that "we can do this!". I've decided she might be a Stepford Wife, there is no way her happy demeanor during this ridiculous workout could be real. By the end I sat on the rower with both legs shaking involuntarily, violently reminding me that I had pushed too far, my stomach raised its own objections with bile surfacing to my mouth, I was a mess. I was oatmeal.
I did manage to walk out of the class, eventually, and I think they were relieved to not have to call an ambulance. I promised to never see them again as I would be returning home soon. But now, at home in my safe little village, a CrossFit free zone, I hate to admit that I miss it! It feels like an abusive relationship. I think I need an intervention.
I'm back to all my old excuses...my iPod isn't working, my kiddo would need a babysitter, it's too hot...this is a downward spiral. I need the tough love of a CrossFit team that won't let me give up and scares the crap out of me. Is that a thing? Exercise by way of fear?
BUT, everyone can rest assured my complaining has not ceased as I am signing up for a 30k race (18 miles off road)! So I guess I will now be forced to set down my glass of wine and start running again. Of course not today, today I'm already dressed in a cute outfit and have a wine drinking date.
-Cheers from the Vivác Winery Family!
www.VivacWinery.com
Friday, July 17, 2015
The Zombie Workout
After that last post where I said I would FINALLY get my lazy butt in gear...I actually did! And let me tell ya, it has not been easy. Day 1 was more an exercise in getting out of bed with enough time to do anything extra in the morning, so I started with yoga. Subsequent days I actually ran (short, slow, pathetic runs, but hey, at least it was a start). But where it has gotten interesting is this week I am spending in Albuquerque. I've had my butt seriously kicked.
In an effort to escape the rather depressing hotel workout room, I contacted my fabulous friend Cristin and asked her to help me "get fit". I explained that I have a PR film thing happening for the winery in a week and need to 'tighten' ASAP. She gingerly offered to take me to her CrossFit gym. Being a CrossFit novice, I had no idea what I was agreeing to.
Arriving at the gym I immediately realized I was in over my head. This place was like an airplane hanger filled with steel bars and piles of weights. No treadmills or stationary bikes in sight. No steam rooms or pools to lay by either. The people working out here were other worldly too. Buff isn't even a quality word to use, these guys made Channing Tatum look bad. My stress levels spiked immediately as I realized my sofa body was about to be seriously brutalized. My dear friend promised I'd be fine...but as I looked her perfect, fit, lean body over, I could see she was one of them. If Barbie was a real person, she would be Cristin. And obviously Barbie was lying.
The class du jour was a hideous combination of jump rope and deep walking lunges. As it turns out I don't know how to jump rope, a realization I had to have publicly as the Navy Seal instructor asked me to demonstrate my inability in front of the group. Not only did I flail my arms and trip over the rope, I also managed to pull my shoulder out. A spastic moment later, I was bent over heaving trying to catch my breath, this seriously sucked and had only just started.
100 double-unders (turns out that means jumping rope like they do in those boxing movies...you know really fast and looking somewhat like a circus sideshow) or 200 singles with the jump rope would be followed by 60 lunges with a weight carried over your head. Then you would go back to jump rope then more lunges...over and over and over and over. I could see why all the military/ actors in the class looked the way they did. I managed to trip over my rope enough times to pretend I'd done a set and start my lunges, without a weight cause it was my 1st class, see how nice these people are? After 10 the burn in my legs was fierce, but the little mass of muscle that was the second instructor for the class demanded the lunge be deeper, her tiny body appearing beside me created a fear I can't quite explain. By the time I finished 60 of these horrific movements, I was completely done for, I couldn't breath and had so much sweat pouring from my body that I literally needed to be wrung out. They don't let you stop though! I see why they make sure you sign a waiver. Set 2 of jump rope was a no go. I could not will my legs to bounce the 1/2 inch off the ground to get the rope under my feet. The strain in my shoulder from flailing earlier seared in pain and I decided jumping jacks were a better option. 40 more lunges and I wanted to cry, really bad, not pretend cry, cry cry. Back to the jump rope...I mean bouncing, because now I couldn't even do the jumping jacks...I was reduced to bouncing on my toes for the amount of time Barbie jumped rope. As we headed into more lunges, my body felt like a "The Walking Dead" zombie as it pushes through a broken door after its prey, forcing its body to move forward as its skin and muscle peel off its bones against the jagged wood. The fire and pain in my legs were at demonic level.
Finally, after what felt like 4 hours of intense torture, we finished. I collapsed to the floor. The instructors asked that we circle around to stretch and as I attempted to collect my shaking body into an upright position, my legs couldn't withstand the pressure and buckled under me tossing me to the floor in a pile of smelly pathetic goo. This was seriously embarrassing.
Rolling over in bed hurt. Everything from my hip to my ankle hurt. I cursed CrossFit. And...I went back.
What the hell was I thinking? Well, I did ask Cristin to kick my butt and she said the workout would be different...and my sore as hell body needed to move in order to recover. So to everyone's surprise, I appeared back in the torture chamber and let the Navy Seal beat the crap out of me some more.
Day 2 was burpees, which evidently if done properly require jumping from each position to the next, their sick add on was then jumping onto a HUGE box and doing burpees on the other side...about 5 million times. THEN doing some sort of squat swing thing with a heavy weight. Of course part of the cruelty of CrossFit is that you go back and forth between the 2 exercises until you combust. Obviously I couldn't do the whole jumping onto a box thing. I mean that is just a joke. Who even does that between burpees? I'll tell you who... gorgeous, tall, brilliant, incredible women with long blonde hair...yep, there is a reason why Cristin looks like Barbie, she is a total badass.
Due to the already decimated state of my lower body, a lot of my burpees were actually me laying on the mat...praying. At what I thought was the end of the disgustingly long class, we did 8 billion sit ups.
The next morning I awoke to a pain I didn't even feel after my 1st Full Marathon. I hurt from the base of my skull to the tips of my toes. Yes even my toes hurt...mostly because during a burpee I managed to jump into the plank position and slam my toes into the ground. Evidently I burpee with the same skill I jump rope. Getting out of bed was similar to right after my c-section delivering my son, absolute agony. I headed to the treadmill in the hotel, desperate to loosen the muscles seizing up in my legs. I clung to the rails of the machine and lumbered along. I stretched in the hot tub too. Nothing would make the searing pain relent. I wobbled like C3PO from "Star Wars" from errand to errand, while deep zombie like groans escaped me when I had to ascend stairs. By evening I was literally screaming any time I bent my legs. I needed wine.
This morning, the magic of a bottle of wine had me crawling slowly about the hotel room with less zombie horror and I saw that my reflection in the mirror was already a 'tighter' me! Hey now, maybe this isn't so bad.
I have my stinky workout clothes on, a date set with Cristin and am terrified, but headed one more time this week to CrossFit. Pray for me people, this is going to be bad.
-Cheers from the Vivác Winery Family!
www.VivacWinery.com
In an effort to escape the rather depressing hotel workout room, I contacted my fabulous friend Cristin and asked her to help me "get fit". I explained that I have a PR film thing happening for the winery in a week and need to 'tighten' ASAP. She gingerly offered to take me to her CrossFit gym. Being a CrossFit novice, I had no idea what I was agreeing to.
Arriving at the gym I immediately realized I was in over my head. This place was like an airplane hanger filled with steel bars and piles of weights. No treadmills or stationary bikes in sight. No steam rooms or pools to lay by either. The people working out here were other worldly too. Buff isn't even a quality word to use, these guys made Channing Tatum look bad. My stress levels spiked immediately as I realized my sofa body was about to be seriously brutalized. My dear friend promised I'd be fine...but as I looked her perfect, fit, lean body over, I could see she was one of them. If Barbie was a real person, she would be Cristin. And obviously Barbie was lying.
The class du jour was a hideous combination of jump rope and deep walking lunges. As it turns out I don't know how to jump rope, a realization I had to have publicly as the Navy Seal instructor asked me to demonstrate my inability in front of the group. Not only did I flail my arms and trip over the rope, I also managed to pull my shoulder out. A spastic moment later, I was bent over heaving trying to catch my breath, this seriously sucked and had only just started.
100 double-unders (turns out that means jumping rope like they do in those boxing movies...you know really fast and looking somewhat like a circus sideshow) or 200 singles with the jump rope would be followed by 60 lunges with a weight carried over your head. Then you would go back to jump rope then more lunges...over and over and over and over. I could see why all the military/ actors in the class looked the way they did. I managed to trip over my rope enough times to pretend I'd done a set and start my lunges, without a weight cause it was my 1st class, see how nice these people are? After 10 the burn in my legs was fierce, but the little mass of muscle that was the second instructor for the class demanded the lunge be deeper, her tiny body appearing beside me created a fear I can't quite explain. By the time I finished 60 of these horrific movements, I was completely done for, I couldn't breath and had so much sweat pouring from my body that I literally needed to be wrung out. They don't let you stop though! I see why they make sure you sign a waiver. Set 2 of jump rope was a no go. I could not will my legs to bounce the 1/2 inch off the ground to get the rope under my feet. The strain in my shoulder from flailing earlier seared in pain and I decided jumping jacks were a better option. 40 more lunges and I wanted to cry, really bad, not pretend cry, cry cry. Back to the jump rope...I mean bouncing, because now I couldn't even do the jumping jacks...I was reduced to bouncing on my toes for the amount of time Barbie jumped rope. As we headed into more lunges, my body felt like a "The Walking Dead" zombie as it pushes through a broken door after its prey, forcing its body to move forward as its skin and muscle peel off its bones against the jagged wood. The fire and pain in my legs were at demonic level.
Finally, after what felt like 4 hours of intense torture, we finished. I collapsed to the floor. The instructors asked that we circle around to stretch and as I attempted to collect my shaking body into an upright position, my legs couldn't withstand the pressure and buckled under me tossing me to the floor in a pile of smelly pathetic goo. This was seriously embarrassing.
Rolling over in bed hurt. Everything from my hip to my ankle hurt. I cursed CrossFit. And...I went back.
What the hell was I thinking? Well, I did ask Cristin to kick my butt and she said the workout would be different...and my sore as hell body needed to move in order to recover. So to everyone's surprise, I appeared back in the torture chamber and let the Navy Seal beat the crap out of me some more.
Day 2 was burpees, which evidently if done properly require jumping from each position to the next, their sick add on was then jumping onto a HUGE box and doing burpees on the other side...about 5 million times. THEN doing some sort of squat swing thing with a heavy weight. Of course part of the cruelty of CrossFit is that you go back and forth between the 2 exercises until you combust. Obviously I couldn't do the whole jumping onto a box thing. I mean that is just a joke. Who even does that between burpees? I'll tell you who... gorgeous, tall, brilliant, incredible women with long blonde hair...yep, there is a reason why Cristin looks like Barbie, she is a total badass.
Due to the already decimated state of my lower body, a lot of my burpees were actually me laying on the mat...praying. At what I thought was the end of the disgustingly long class, we did 8 billion sit ups.
The next morning I awoke to a pain I didn't even feel after my 1st Full Marathon. I hurt from the base of my skull to the tips of my toes. Yes even my toes hurt...mostly because during a burpee I managed to jump into the plank position and slam my toes into the ground. Evidently I burpee with the same skill I jump rope. Getting out of bed was similar to right after my c-section delivering my son, absolute agony. I headed to the treadmill in the hotel, desperate to loosen the muscles seizing up in my legs. I clung to the rails of the machine and lumbered along. I stretched in the hot tub too. Nothing would make the searing pain relent. I wobbled like C3PO from "Star Wars" from errand to errand, while deep zombie like groans escaped me when I had to ascend stairs. By evening I was literally screaming any time I bent my legs. I needed wine.
This morning, the magic of a bottle of wine had me crawling slowly about the hotel room with less zombie horror and I saw that my reflection in the mirror was already a 'tighter' me! Hey now, maybe this isn't so bad.
I have my stinky workout clothes on, a date set with Cristin and am terrified, but headed one more time this week to CrossFit. Pray for me people, this is going to be bad.
-Cheers from the Vivác Winery Family!
www.VivacWinery.com
Tuesday, July 7, 2015
Positive Changes
Have you ever noticed that the less you exercise the harder it is to even contemplate exercising? That person that I once was, the one that encouraged other people with the chipper "You can do it! It just takes getting started!" rings in my ears. I want to punch that former self in the face.
Just getting started is the hardest part! It is breaking the now formed habit of sitting on the sofa or sleeping in to get up and start making positive choices. Start making the exercise routine a habit again.
I am left pondering how I got so far off track. How did I go from Marathon, no Ultra Marathon training, to NOTHING? You guys are probably thinking I mean just a few short runs instead of training runs, or that I mean I am doing yoga instead of running...no, I mean NOTHING nothing. Raising that glass of wine to my lips every night has literally been the extent of my movement for months. So what did happen? How do you avoid becoming the mess I have become? I'll tell you, it is all in your mind. (cue Matrix the movie soundtrack)
Yes I did have a head injury that scared the crap out of me. Yes I did and continue to struggle with my aging body and crazy hormone roller coaster. But is that why I became Jabba The Hut? Nooooo my friends, it is because I let my mind tell me lies and I believed them. You are not your thoughts and you have the power to believe them or not (see mom, I have been listening). So choose not to listen to the ones that say it will be too hard or you can't do it and join me to get ahold of your life and body! I just can't let myself drift into a life where I am unable to do things any longer because I let myself become soggy. I don't want to be years down the road saying I thought about running this race or that race, I want to say I DID run those races and visited those far off places. I want to say I fully lived my life and didn't give in to 'stinkin thinkin'. Who's with me?!!!
Did you groan just then? I know, I did too.
-Cheers from the Vivác Winery Family!
www.VivacWinery.com
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