Feeling Proud

Just so you’re warned before you start reading this post I am about to climb up on my soapbox and rant. I will try to keep the ranting to a minimum, but I can’t make any promises. I am generally a quiet observant person. I would rather listen than talk and I would certainly rather cheer than perform. This does not mean that nothing bothers me or gets to me. My family and friends can attest to my ability to fly off the handle at the drop of a hat.

My point is: it takes a great deal for me to overcome my natural impulse to fly under the radar and be invisible. I push myself outside that comfortable realm as often as I can mostly because leaving my comfort zone scares me and I don’t like to be scared.

I’ve discovered an activity that plays on my strengths and also scares me witless. Come on; guess what it is…you know you want to. I’ll give you three guesses and I bet you get it on the first try. YES! Powerlifting. Hey, no eye rolls, you had a chance to walk away before now. I warned you.

Squatting, benching and deadlifting at the gym don’t scare me much. Sometimes I look at the weight on the bar I’m about to pull, press or squat and think “Yep, my coach is trying to kill me” before I get to work, but I do it. If I need to I step away from the bar, refocus, regroup then come back to it, but I don’t feel nauseated. A powerlifting meet is a completely different experience.

Okay, one last chance…the rant is about to begin. This one has been bubbling up inside for some time now so walking away might be wise.

Tuesday night after Yoga Corr I went into the Weight Cave and took a picture. Nothing earth shaking there, nothing that should have provoked tears, but it did. The picture is of the two trophies I have earned in my two powerlifting meets. As I took the picture I thought about it and found myself saying inside my head “They’re both first place trophies, but I was the only woman in my age bracket, so that’s why.”  In fact, when I talk about the meets, just about every time I say I took first place I have to add the caveat “I was the only woman in my age bracket”. I can’t just leave it at I took first place. Why??

Does my accomplishment mean less because I was the only woman competing between the ages of 45 and 49? That seems to be my take on it, that a total weight of 793.66 pounds is less impressive because I was the only woman in my age bracket. That’s pretty damn sad, because if one of my friends did that I would be whooping, hooting and hollering like a fool in support of them. I support my friends, but I won’t support myself. I make stabs at it, I will say I am proud of myself, I might even mean it, but I am very quick to point out what needs work.

Take my check in after Muscle Hour last night: “Muscle Hour at my happy place. Back Squats tonight. I set a new PR of 275 pounds (300 pounds is within reach). Feeling pretty darn proud, but there's plenty of work still to do on my pull ups, hand stands and Bulgarian split squats.”

Would it really have killed me to end the post after “I set a new PR…”? Apparently. Not that my pull ups, hand stands and split squats don’t need work, but couldn’t I have taken one second to just be happy with what I did? Even during the class when I went to find Coach Tyler so I could tell him I’d PR’ed my squat I felt like I was shamelessly begging for attention, that I was doing it only to get a fist bump. What gives?

I know I am not the only woman (or the only person) who has difficulty feeling proud of myself. When I do feel proud it feels like I’m begging for attention and I should just stay quiet. Who cares about a total weight of 793.66 pounds, it’s not that important. It’s not that impressive. Except that it IS important to me and it IS impressive.

Why does it feel so awful and so wrong to talk about what I’ve accomplished? Why is it easier to point out faults or what I still need to work on instead of just stating what I did do? Why did taking a picture of 2 trophies I worked hard for feel like the most self-centered, egotistical, morally wrong thing I’ve ever done?  Just how crazy am I?

I’m not touching that last question with a ten-foot pole. There’s a whole lot of crazy between my ears and there is no sense in beating that topic to death yet again. So I’m going to try to tackle the other questions. Notice I didn’t say I am going to answer them, nor did I say I was going to find solutions. As with most of this journey, I’m quite sure the solution is going to be an on-going battle.

1. I don’t feel worthy. There, I said it. It’s out there. I’ve grown. I’ve changed. I’ve finally realized it’s okay to be me, but I still struggle with feeling worthy. It really does feel that I shouldn’t talk about my accomplishments because they aren’t that important or valuable. I should celebrate my friends and their victories and successes, but I need to stay in the background.

2. I don’t want to sound like a jerk. No one has accused me of this, well not in regards to speaking about my accomplishments, but I still worry. I do not want to be one of those people who have to follow up anything you say with a story of what has happened to them.

3. Size does matter. In my heart it does anyhow. My head knows that my worth is not measured by my size, weight according to the scale or my body fat percentage, but my heart won’t believe that message. It still clings to the idea that if I get to a certain size and weight I will magically be a better person. I am quite sure that no matter my size or weight I will be the same person I am right now.

So maybe I’ve figured out I do deserve good things. I understand I am not wasting my coaches’ time by walking through the doors at Pride as much as possible. I am almost okay with my friends celebrating with me and congratulating me on my accomplishments. As much as I want to be “there” (that wonderful, mythical place where all this makes sense, I feel good about who I am all the time and I stop whining on and on like a broken record) I’m not yet. I’m closer to that person than I used to be, but I’m still not done.

I made it to the party, now I need to let myself enjoy it and accept that it is okay. The world won’t end if I look at my trophies and smile or post that I hit a new PR and leave out what I still need work on.

Rant over. You survived. I’ll put my soapbox away now. I'll leave you with the picture that sparked this whole rant.

Thank you for reading.

I am

I don't know what's up with me lately.

I am the first person to admit I am competitive, even when I shouldn't be. I'm not the best or the fastest, but something in me wants to win. Maybe it's a leftover from the little girl who wanted to be noticed and praised. Even when there is next to no chance I'm going to be able to accomplish what I've set out to do I don't want to admit it.

Except lately I am admitting it. Maybe that makes you think I'm a quitter. I've pondered whether or not I'm a quitter a lot lately. The jury is still out on that point, but I have come to an understanding about who I am recently.


1. I am enough. There, I said it. I feel like the biggest ego-maniac on the face of the Earth right now, but it needed to be said. I've spent a long time fighting myself, trying to make myself fit into what everyone seemed to think I was. Or at least what I thought they wanted me to be. I'm coming to realize that anyone who expects me to be someone other than who I am does not need a place in my life.


2. I am evolving. Sometimes I feel like I have multiple personalities. I want to be the strongest, I want to be a ninja, I want to be mobile, flexible and agile. I'm pretty sure I can't be ALL of those things. I want all those things though. I feel like I wasted 42 years of my life fighting my body, trying to starve myself to be thin, then giving up and eating everything in sight to pack on as many pounds as possible so I could be invisible. I'm not thin nor am I invisible. I still miss feeling invisible at times.


3. I am strong. I am NOT the strongest, not by a long shot and that truly is okay. I didn't think it would be and when I couldn't pull 650 pounds at the Pride Games I was not happy. I was completely pissed off in fact. I felt my body betrayed me, but in reality I betrayed my body. I didn't take any time off to regroup after my powerlifting meet (one week prior to the Pride Games). In fact I worked out the night before the Pride Games. Next time there will be recovery time, I learned my lesson. My mind wants to think I'm invincible, my body knows better.

I am mentally strong too. I am learning that not doing what I set out to do isn't the end of the world and doesn't mean I should lash out at myself with every negative thought and word I can come up with. Sometimes I cringe when I hear how I talk to myself. I would NEVER tell a friend, or member of the Pride that they sucked or were wasting everyone's time, but I frequently tell myself that. It's just not okay.


4. I deserve praise. What's not to love about a fist bump, high five or a hug? You know what: I DESERVE those things. After my last meet I got a text from one of my coaches telling me I did an awesome job and he was proud of me. I think I grinned for hours, possibly days after that. I am trying hard now to just say thank you when someone praises or compliments me. I might think of all the things I could improve, but I keep those to myself. I don't have any right to tell someone their opinion is wrong, I'm trying to remember that.


5. I can't do it all and that is okay. I have finally figured out there are things I do well and enjoy and those are the things I should do more of. I love to deadlift and squat. I am learning to love to bench press. I am fascinated by powerlifting. I might never be a runner or a ninja, but I'm learning to accept that. It doesn't mean I won't work on those skills, I will. The fact is no one is asking me to be a cookie cutter client. I might be lapped by turtles when I run around the pond, but I hold my own deadlifting and squatting. As long as I do the best I can do that's all anyone can ask.

I've had a lot of different dreams over the course of this journey. Currently my dream is to go to a national powerlifting competition. That probably means finding another powerlifting federation and that idea makes my stomach twist into knots right now. The idea scares me: I like Vermont Powerlifting and the All Raw federation. Right now I am biding my time and continuing my training, hoping that neither coach is going to want to talk to me about another meet before the next Vermont Powerlifting meet in November. If they do though I will listen. Neither one of them wants to see me hurt or humiliated, that much I do trust 100%. If the conversation comes up, it because they think it is time and that I am ready. Just keeping my fingers crossed that it doesn't happen any time soon. Let's be honest: my fears won't stop me, but they give me pause.


6. I am NOT a quitter. I wanted to be at buddy training. I was looking at my fourth rope climb, in fact I was on the knotted rope, trying to get my feet to the second knot. I couldn't do it and my grip gave. Dane could have told me to get my ass back on that rope and climb the damn thing, but he didn't. He told me to regroup and go again. I didn't know if I had that last climb in me: my arms were tired, but my coach believed I could do it. I did indeed do it and when I smacked the cowbell it was a huge relief. Before that I wanted to quit squatting to the box with 195 pounds, but I didn't. I will admit it felt like that box got lower every rep, but after failing my second attempt at squatting on April 2, I will do EVERYTHING in my power to be sure I squat to at least parallel every damn time I squat.


So there you have it...another stream of consciousness post. I am me: the biggest bundle or nerves, fears, strengths and insecurities you are likely to meet.

Thank you so much for reading.

No quit here. I was pretty sure this row was going to do me in,
but I did my 500m and then a 50m prowler push

Confidence

It's been almost two weeks since I last bored you with my ramblings. There has been A LOT on my mind, so many things I want to say and so many things I probably shouldn't say.

I'd like to tell you I've settled back into my routine since the meet on April 2, but the truth is I haven't. I've felt out-of-sorts, on edge and generally not myself.

Why am I feeling this way? That's an easy one. I feel like a fraud. A complete fraud. I brought home a trophy, it says "first place" on it, but as someone pointed out to me (rather unhelpfully and completely unnecessarily I thought) I was the only person in my age group so I can't really consider it first place. This same person then felt the need to continue on and tell me I needed to find a meet somewhere where I would actually have some competition. The lecture continued with the advice that if I didn't step outside my comfort zone I would never grow or get better.

Comfort zone?! Seriously?? There was nothing about getting to that meet that was anywhere in my comfort zone. NOTHING. Yes, I'd done it once before, so I knew what to expect. I also had more training so I put a ton of pressure on myself to be better: I didn't want my coaches thinking I'd wasted their time. I didn't want anyone there to cheer for me to feel cheated if I wasn't doing well. I mean, BOTH "Queens of the Pride" were there and two "Pride Warriors"...I didn't want to suck completely. Yeah, I'd say I was as far outside my comfort zone as I could get without spending the entire time between my lifts living up to my nickname.

I KNOW there is probably a time coming when my coaches will feel I am ready to take another step and will suggest a bigger meet. The point is: THEY KNOW ME. They know what I am capable of and how to push me without needing to drag me out from under a rock to get me to go along. When the time is right neither of them will hesitate to tell me it is time and as scared as I will be I trust them and I will take their advice.

Considering that this person knows nothing about lifting, absolutely nothing about coaching and apparently doesn't know anything about me I should brush it off and go on with my life. Instead I want to put up the walls I've torn down and hunker down behind them shutting everyone out.

What I want and what I am going to do are two different things. I want the wall back, but I know it doesn't serve me, it won't help me grow into the person I want to be. So I am standing as tall as I can, trying not to beg for reassurance every other second, breathing deep and knowing this too shall pass.

I'd like to blame my feelings on the person who felt the need to advise me on my life and how I should be living it, but the truth is it started before that.

Family is a mixed blessing. They are supposed to love you unconditionally and I think they do to the best of their ability, but it's not always the way you need/want to be loved. I am trying to be an adult, I am striving to accept that. I'm not having a lot of success. I absolutely made choices that have contributed to the current situation, I would make the same choices if I had it to do over again, because when it comes down to it I have to protect myself and I have to make myself happy.

I am working on that: I have found a core group of women who support me, encourage me and hold me accountable for being the best me I can be. I keep the family members who truly support and love me close. I have three men I know I can trust implicitly. I am blessed and I know it, but sometimes, and now is one of those times, what I don't have is glaringly obvious and more than a little painful.

I would like to tell you I have the confidence and the strength to throw this all off and get back to being who I am. I'm working on that, but my confidence is in short supply at the moment. I will do what I do: I will pull up my big girl pants, I will square my shoulders, straighten my spine, focus on what's ahead and get it done. I won't be perfect, I won't complete everything I think I should and sometimes I will huddle down in a corner and cry. I'm human, there's no way around that as much as I would like there to be. I want to be a beast, but let's be honest: I'm not. I can be strong, extremely strong at times, but not always. I am working on it, bear with me.

I'm going to close with a picture taken at the meet. It is my final deadlift of the meet, when I finally found my groove and felt like I belonged there.

Masters' and Women's Nationals, April 2, 2016

I'll see if I can't be more upbeat and positive in my next post.

Thanks for reading!

What?

Wow, what a weekend! Well, really it was only Saturday, but what a Saturday.

I competed in my second powerlifting meet. The Master's and Women's Nationals hosted by Vermont Powerlifting at Crossfit Burlington. Despite a case of nerves that was worse than the nerves before my first meet I brought home more hardware. A first place trophy for my age group (Women, 45-49). I am proud as hell of that trophy, but I feel I must add that I was the only woman in my age group. Not to try and diminish my accomplishment, but I want to be honest.

When we got there there was a pretty long line of people waiting to check in so I joined them leaving my friends, thinking maybe I'd made a HUGE mistake and it wasn't too late to walk away and just go shopping. Never mind that there were at least 13 people coming to support me, not to mention two coaches who have given me A LOT of their time and expertise to be sure I would be as ready for the meet as I could possibly be. Fortunately before I could run away I got to the front of the line and was checking in. My first surprise was that the meet director remembered me. Me: the formerly shy, quiet wallflower. He asked me if "Team Kim" would be there to support me again. Then I was going to weigh in and one of the volunteers, who had competed in November asked me if I was nervous. When I answered yes she told me not to be, I had done a great job during my first meet.

Let's set the stage here. Growing up I was quiet, shy and much happier to be alone than in a group. In Kindergarten I preferred the block corner to the play house where all the other children seemed to want to be. I lost count of how many times my mother heard "She's a good student, but so quiet." at parent teacher conferences. In my freshman French class, Madame Leroy made a deal with me: If I raised my hand and volunteered once per class she wouldn't call on me. The quieter I could be the happier I was.

Not much has changed, I'm still not a chatterbox. I talk more than I used to, but I truly prefer to be quiet. I learn more when I don't talk. My coaches are probably thankful for that. I follow directions and try to keep the whining to a minimum. Of course inside my head is non-stop whining.

I thought being recognized by the meet director and one of the volunteers would be the end of it, but several other competitors recognized me and commented on my final deadlift from November. One even mentioned that she watched me lift and thought I could have pulled at least 30 pounds more that day. I guess I'm not going to be flying under the radar anymore.

The meet started with squats. At my first meet after my first squat I settled down, the nerves went away and I was focused on the present moment and what I needed to do. Not this time: I was still on edge and wanted to bolt. That's probably why I failed my second squat attempt, not because I couldn't squat 253 pounds, but because my mind wasn't in the game yet. I knew when I started coming up that I hadn't gotten to parallel. Not that I am an expert, but I know how it feels when I squat to parallel and I knew I hadn't done it. I came up anyway. At that moment my inner critic spoke up "This isn't your day, you suck: give up while you're ahead."

I shook it off, went to the head table to pick my third attempt. I decided on the same weight as my second attempt. I am pretty sure I could have done more, I probably should have gone heavier, but most of all I just wanted a successful squat. I wanted to shut the inner critic up, most of all I wanted the part of me that loves lifting heavy to wake up and come out to play. The beast was stubbornly silent.

My bench presses were better, the beast was at least stirring, though refusing to come play. I did bench press 154.32 pounds which is the most I'd done in a long while. My third attempt was 187 pounds, but I couldn't get it. No problem: I'll be trying it again soon I'm sure. The beast was finally showing some sign of stirring, because my favorite event was coming up: deadlifts.

Warming up for my deadlifts I felt myself starting to relax: this is the lift I love most. My first attempt was a weight I'd lifted at least a dozen times and I almost blew it. I didn't take the time to set my grip before I started pulling. Fortunately I was able to hold on and completed a successful, though less than graceful deadlift. I picked my second attempt with input from Coach Dane and we decided on 330 pounds. Coach Tyler reminded me to take my time and set my grip before pulling and I waited for my second deadlift. The second lift felt so much better and so much lighter. I set my grip and even better the beast was awake and ready to play.

My third deadlift attempt was 385.81 pounds, a PR of 0.81 pounds, but a PR nonetheless. It felt the lightest of my three attempts and I wish I'd gone heavier. I will be in my next meet. The head judge/meet director announced I would be lifting over 400 if I competed in November 2016. My coaches had similar things to say. I'm game: I want 400 pounds and I aim to have it.

I am proud of what I did. It was a rough start, I wanted to walk away, but I didn't. I proved to myself I have what it takes, even when I don't feel like I do.

I had the most AWESOME support from my friends. There were plenty of people at the meet, but there were also many people rooting for me from other locations. I got supportive texts and messages all day and I'd like to take a moment to thank each and every one of you.

I still don't see how I am an inspiration, but people I respect and admire keep telling me I am, so I guess it's time to stop questioning it and just go with it. I love lifting, I enjoy testing the limits of my courage and strength at meets so there will be more to come.

Before I end this I'd like to leave you with my numbers from Saturday. I'm getting closer to the 1000 pound club.

Squat: 115 kg (253.32 pounds)
Bench Press: 70 kg (154.34 pounds)
Deadlift: 175 kg (385.81 pounds)
Totals: 360 kg (793.66 pounds)

Only 206.34 pounds to go and I've made it to the 1000 pound club. Stay tuned.

To end, I'd like to give HUGE shout out to the people who made the trip to Burlington to cheer me on Saturday. Thank you all so much for being there to make a special day even better.

Thanks for reading!