Inner Peace

Staying present, setting an intention, taking time to focus on your breath and releasing whatever you have been carrying around with you all day; just a few of the things that I have taken away from my recent foray into the world of yoga.  I flowed through hatha, bended like a pretzel during an intimidating and shocking ashtanga session and even moved sweetly during a longer more groovy variation.   It was somewhere between half lotus and turtle pose that I had an a-ha moment. 

Yoga is just what a chick like myself needs.

It didn't take long to realize that yoga is so much more than a hot, sweaty workout and a good stretch.  Philosophy, spirituality and mindfulness are all subtly intertwined within a dynamic flow of movements. Each series purposefully combined to not just stretch your body but your mind and your limits.   Constantly being reminded of pranayama and the importance of breath and energy control focuses your attention on something greater than your own movements.   And no matter what asanas you find yourself folded into, you are always brought back to a neutral place to reset before moving forward.  But its got to be savasana, which quite simply could be the the most divine time during the whole yoga experience, that will be enough to keep bringing me back for more. 

I am the kinda gal who fills her plate 'till there isn't room for one more thing, the lady who burns the candle at both ends and goes until the she collapses onto the bed and passes out. The challenge in practicing yoga has been the slowing down, letting go and staying in the moment.  It is a rare occasion when in my day I am not whirling around like a tightly wound top, when my movements are intentionally slow and calm. Something I have never been good at is to slow down, return to centre before moving forward always one to carry around junk from the entire day, week or month that was.  And since beginning a journey into yoga, I work on taking time to "vinyasa" between tasks that make up my everyday.  I have started to set intention for who I want to be that day and how I want the world to see me.  My self awareness has been heightened and I can see the validity in getting to know myself in this different way. 

Don't get me wrong I haven't got it all figured out and I still snap show rage on my little grade 10 stinkers but there is a reason that they call it yoga "practice".  And the saying goes, practice makes permanent.   I can just imagine the disaster that my chakras are in but I plan on continuing to explore my new found hobby and even though becoming a master yogini guru is not in my near future I can already see how yoga as a practice and not just an exercise could positively affect the rest of my life.  And just like during yoga class its on a daily basis that I try to remind myself to stay present, set an intention for my actions, let go of what drags me down and focus.  Focus on myself, my breathing, my energy and what is there right in in front of me. 

A cop out post?

My screen time lately has been so misguided.  I have become obsessed with finding the cheekiest and most ignorant someecards, memes and motivational images that I can use to post to my facebook page and twitter feed. 

Just recently the ol' man and I decided that it was time to "unplug" every night by 9 pm.  This monumental shift in our nightly practice has meant two things.  First, with nothing better to do than sit and stare at each other I go to bed way earlier and therefore am much more rested and secondly I have limited amount of time to spend with my good friend the Internet.   So you can imagine my dilemma when night after night I am forced to choose between thumbing through pinterest for the latest and greatest and logging on to the dinosaur to click clack out a blog post. 

So earlier this week I decided to make a commitment and hammer out my first post in just over a month.  Well my friends here I am on the fourth night in a row staring blankly at my computer screen.  Three semi finished, occasionally honest, not really that witty blog posts blink "Draft"  obnoxiously in my face.  I don't think its even writers block or the absence of a good idea.  I am purely lacking motivation to finish one and get it done.  Meh...regardless, the keys ain't clacking and the ink it ain't a flowin'....so instead of leaving what seems like eons between posts, here is a little something to chew on. 

 

3-2-1 GO!

It is very common for trainers who use CrossFit methodology to structure their workouts by giving their clients a set amount of time to do as much work as possible.  The standard amount of time allotted is usually 20 minutes but you can see them as short as ten and as long as thirty.    And like so many things in the CrossFit culture these types of workouts have an acronym to more easily describe them.  In this case the trainer is asking the athlete to do As Many Rounds As Possible in a set time, so it is commonly called an AMRAP. 

We were still newlyweds when my main man, W, had turned our world upside down with this crazy new CrossFit lifestyle.  And not long after that the longest AMRAP we will possibly ever do started.  We had gotten “married” the year before but it wasn’t until little Miss M came along that our marriage really began.   Having children changed everything, it turned my definition of marriage on its head.  It is like the most challenging partner workout ever with a clock that never stops running.  A real team effort that has required us to work together to complete tasks that at some points seem too daunting or overwhelming, with ups and downs that we could have never imagined.  And since that first year our relationship has stood some of the truest tests of life.  There have been births, deaths, happiness, sadness, hellos and goodbyes.  It seems like time is flying and has quickly passed as we have been busy growing and learning, building our family and our home.  This summer we celebrate our fifth anniversary, five years that can be best described with an exponential growth curve that could not have been predicted.   During this time, W and I have been striving to live well, laugh often and  love each other as much as we could through the happy and exciting times as well as through some of the most difficult and trying periods of our lives to date.  I am not naive, I know that five years is such a relatively short period of time and we are still very young with loads of life left ahead of us.  But to look back and think about how far we have come as a pair, I can’t help but be proud that we have survived one beast of an AMRAP for the last 2,628,000 minutes.

Wabi

CrossFit and kids.....LOVE the idea that our little mini mes are seeing us taking care of our bodies, valuing our health and living a life of fitness.  But what happens when the gym becomes a dangerous place to be?

It was just under a week ago that W and I had our first CrossFit related should'a, could'a, would'a parental moment.  Up until now our children's interactions with all things fitness had been relatively positive.  It all happened during a normal weekend morning at the gym.  She should'a been wearing her shoes, I could'a told her to leave the weights alone, If I just would'a taught her how to be more careful when she was around the equipment.

It was one of those accidents that could have been prevented.  One of those moments that you wish you had just done something, anything, differently.  A day that ended with regret and guilt.   Our little lady was lucky, she wasn't hurt as seriously as she could have been.   It literally happened within a split second; J Dawg, ironically, stubbed his toe, his older sister came over to see if he was OK, she leaned against the plate rack and dropped a 10 lbs metal plate square on the big toe of her right foot.  I was busy consoling the little man and her dad was across the room packing up our bags.  It was the blood curdling scream that came next that drew attention of the remaining gym goers as they gathered up their belongings to head home.  It was Fancy Nancy who got to her first and scooped up my hysterically screaming child and carried her straight to the bathroom.  The blood gushed, M wailed and I did not realize the severity of the injury until W pronounced:  "We need to take her in to the hospital." I didn't know how bad it was.  I never saw it.  By the time she was in my arms and we were rushing to the truck her foot was wrapped haphazardly in a grey gym rag that was quickly getting spotted with dark red blood.  Sitting squished between two booster seats in the back I held her foot as she incoherently babbled about the pain and W sped us to the emergency room.  We were quickly checked in and then we waited.  I still hadn't seen the damage that the weight had caused.   And when we finally were given a bed in minor treatment and the nurse removed the rag, it became apparent that this was not going to be a simple bandage and go type job. 

It was during our wait that little Miss M showed her true colours in the face of such an upsetting moment; her strength, her big heart, her brave resolve and even a little of her developing sense of humour.   After receiving three painful needles that froze her foot, she got the thrill of her first ride in a wheel chair and an x ray to determine the damage done to the bones of her toe.  It was determined that there was no major break but our little lady was to permanently lose her toe nail.  The weight had hit her foot in such a way that it basically "blew up" her toe , causing the root of the nail to come loose and gashing her skin so deep it was close to the bone.  After all was said and done they extracted the nail, stitched her up, gave an antibiotic and hefty bandage and sent us on our way.

Since we left the hospital my mind has been on the lost nail, vain yes, but it is true.  The young EMT student that took M's vitals when we first checked in called it her "wabi".  A Japanese word for a characteristic that makes us beautifully unique.  Sometimes translated as flawed beauty.  He said his was his nose, now Morgs is her big nail-less toe and I guess mine would be my cleft lip scar.  Wabi. 

As an adult we tend to embrace and celebrate what makes us different and unique.  But as many of us can recall that isn't always the case.  As young children and teenagers it is not as easy to accept our physical idiosyncrasies, it can sometimes be a challenge to covet our "wabi".  It wasn't until my early 20s that I realized I had finally made peace with mine.  During my University graduation photo shoot the photographer was showing me my proofs, he suggested that we airbrush out my scar on my lip.  I was offended, how would my face look if I didn't have my scar? I had always had my scar, its part of who I was. I had a cleft lip, a genetic abnormality that changed the shape of my face.   Sure airbrush the hell out of my adult on set acne but my scar? No way.  It is how I look, its a tell of what I have been through.  Kids are mean and any kind of difference seems to be fair game so I was bullied, mocked and teased, because of my lip. But it wasn't until that point years later that I felt protective and proud of what made me, me.  And just like that without realizing it I had accepted something that haunted me throughout my teen years.

I wouldn't mind if she brought
him home for Christmas:)

Looking back as a 30 year old adult I know that it has to do with a bully's own insecurities, about them wanting to fit in, and creating feelings of superiority because of their own inferiority.  But as a young woman it was devastating and hard to understand why I was being picked on.  This is what I worry for my own daughter.  Did my negligence during a routine day at the gym set in motion a chain of events that might alter how she and others see her? Will others notice her "abnormal" toe? Will they care? Will she care? Did she inherit my own thin skin? Or will she believe in herself and in me and her dad when we say it is just one more thing we love about her?  Will she embrace her wabi?

She is quickly getting back to her normal self, even forgetting the cumbersome bandage that marks her injured foot as she chases her brother around the house.  As of right now the lost toe nail seems to be of little concern.  And I wonder if it will ever really matter especially when you are as tough as a million toe nails like she is?

Ride that pony....

Sigh. 

My summer  has been spent like all good summers should be spent; consuming all things trash.  I am not embarrassed to fess up.  I am not too proud to tell the world.  I have done nothing but watch and read smut.  Pure, dirty smut!    Frankly I didn't want to miss out, I didn't want to be the only one who hadn't scoured the shelves at Walmart for ALL three copies of 50 Shades of Grey or be the gal who missed the ridiculously long line anxiously waiting with the rest of the female population for the men of Xquiste to burst onto the screen.   Giddily I have spent more than a few hours pouring over the steamy pages that detail the exploits of the very controlling Mr. Grey and his extremely naive "employee" Miss Steele.  I also gladly paid full price to watch possibly the worst film I have ever seen, just to catch a glimpse of Magic Mike ride the heck out of that pony. No regrets here, best summer EVER!

The most disturbing part of it all is not that I enjoy the nature of the books or found the "character development" of the film gripping, it was that during some of the most explicit scenes in both of these soon to be "classics" I couldn't help but think about anything other than CrossFit.  I know, while a half naked Channing Tatum is grinding, thrusting and removing his clothes I am thinking about CrossFit.  I can hear you and you are 100% right, I need help!

But in all seriousness, think about it.  If Anastasia spent a little more time at the local CF box and a little less time analyzing her extremely dysfunctional relationship then she would be able to keep up with the crazy bastard. Had she taken part in the CrossFit Open and had to complete seven minutes of burpees then maybe Miss Steele would know what it felt like to hang in there and finish strong, even when she thought she couldn't go on any longer.  Grip strength, dead hang pull ups...heck kipping pull ups, handstand pushups, squats, box jumps...a few of the more popular CF movements that would probably come in handy for Mike and Dallas as they dazzle the ladies with their talents on centre stage.  Maybe Adam would have been able to deal with the pressure of having to perform each and every night had he spent some time getting to know Rippetoe and how mentally demanding it can be to lift heavy every time you grab that bar. 

Just like so many people in the general population, if all these characters just began to Crossfit I would think they would be able to "handle" the demands of their lifestyles so much better.

Something has been missing...

Without feeling like I am listing the 101 reasons I haven't been living the CF life I will just say that after a long and complicated May and June, I finally made my way back to the box this past week and it was mid burpee that I had an epiphany: I LOVE CrossFit, I MISS CrossFit, I NEED CrossFit.  For anyone who ever struggled to start and stick with an exercise routine they can relate to how I felt.  CrossFit was losing its appeal, I wasn't feeling as excited as I once did about working out and it was getting stale.  I was still following a strength program, WOD'ing regularly, typically just doing the workouts posted on Ignite's main page and doing my best to eat as paleo as I could, truth it was more as paleo as I wanted to :).  But the spark was gone.  The magic had faded.  What had changed? Something must have been missing?

And it wasn't until spending last Wednesday sweating through Special K's very "special" birthday WOD with a few of my very favourite CF Red Deer mommas and one special Ignite dad that I was reminded of what made CrossFit so unique compared to other workout regimes that I had tried and failed to maintain.    It's the people, the conversations and the relationships that fuel my love affair.  It's the momma who finishes her WOD before you, picking herself up off the floor and coming over to scoop up your screaming son to wipe away his tears. It's knowing each others birthdays and celebrating with a disgustingly ridiculous WOD.  It's the warm up that takes way too long because the conversation is way too good.   Sure the workouts have whipped my soft, weak body into shape but it was the connections I was making to the people that whipped my life into order.   Trudging through workouts alone in the garage is more convenient and definitely easier for the little people in my life but its the community of people that has made CrossFit something more than just a workout.  I am realizing that if I am going to maintain the CF lifestyle that I am so keen on doing then I need to foster what makes it so special and make a conscious effort to be part of a community that has given me so much.   

Two is better than one

I am starting to understand how valuable it is to have a partner who is interested in the same things you are, a companion by your side navigating through life on the same wavelength, working towards common goals.  This is true in so many facets of our lives but especially when it comes to pursuing a healthier lifestyle.   Take someone like myself, struggling to find her groove at the box, my main man's "gentle" nudge to tag along as he soldiers on with a new intense training program has proved to be a valuable motivator on days that I would rather curl up with Mr. Grey and read about all 50 of his shades.   And much like Mr Grey has learned through his "relationship" with Miss Steele, that unless you and your companion want the same things out of life it can be rather....um....difficult to pursue your...um ...interests. Ok its a loose metaphor but OMG have you read that book!?!?!?! That guy is wild! 50 shades of something! I digress...

I have been fortunate enough to have a guy by my side who has encouraged my journey to explore a more healthy me.  W has been the kind of partner that ties up his shoelaces and hits the gym with me instead of the guy who drops you off and picks you up an hour later.  He has been a partner that happily digs in to that sugar free paleo apple crumble rather than sitting on the couch eating the bucket of Ben and Jerrys 1000 flavours. This is the type of partner a "lost" CrossFitter, like myself is in desperate need of. 

What is becoming so very clear is that not everyone is as lucky as I.  To be quite honest, if W did not support my working out then it would be more difficult to fit it into my hectic day.   It's no coincidence that most of the women that I have meet that CrossFit have a partner who is also an avid firebreather .  I am also starting to see how easy it is to "let yourself go" and make excuses for your inactivity if you have a partner who does that same thing.

It makes a person think about the "what if?"and the "where would I be?" and ultimately the "thank god!".