Three Options

Motivate me, support me or get the hell out of my way.

Those are the three option if you want to be a part of my life. I am not a doormat, I am not weak, I am not going to apologize for being myself anymore. I will not spend one more minute of my life feeling bad for being who I am. Not. One. Minute. 

Not to be rude, or a jerk, but this is the reality. I am a people pleaser by nature and knowing people are unhappy with me or don't like me kills me inside. I would rather someone hit me than tell me I've disappointed them. The fact is not everyone is going to like me and really I would rather have people be honest with me than lie to my face. Lying to me used to be fine with me, but Coach Tyler raised my expectations: I expect the people in my life to be honest with me. I will bend over backwards to accommodate and make my friends happy, so asking for honesty doesn't seem like too much to ask. I might be wrong on that point.

Rant over. I'm going to step off my soapbox now. Let's move on and pretend I didn't just lose my mind all over this blog. If you're still here thank you. I'll try to tone down the crazy from here on out. No promises though...but I will TRY.

I am one week out from my next powerlifting competition. My third meet so I should be feeling okay about it. Well what I should feel and what I do feel are two completely different things. I can see Coach Dane's eyes rolling and hear him sigh as I type this. He might even tell me to "Get it together". He might have a point.

Eye rolling and comments aside I am nervous. Excited yes, which is a welcome change, but still nervous. I have the training, but there will still be unknowns to contend with. I could be all warmed up to Bench Press because the meet director said women were going to start bench pressing in about 20 minutes and it winds up being closer to 50 minutes. Things I won't be able to control could happen. You can imagine how much that thrills me. I'll have my coach there, he'll keep me focused to the best of his ability, but he's only one man and I am one formidable bundle of crazy when I get worked up. Fortunately most of the crazy is on the inside and I look mostly normal on the surface. Or according to my friend Jen I look really mean. Let me find some examples and I'll let you be the judge of whether or not I am scary.

A recent pic from the Asylum  at Pride (courtesy of Tyler Tinker). Okay, so I do look scary in this one. I love it. 

My photo from the "Be Your Own Hero" photoshoot. I do look fierce, but I don't think I'm scary.

My first meet. Someone told me I look fierce in this picture. The truth is I'm wondering if I have time to go vomit before I have to step on the platform. The coaches look pretty fierce though, love those guys.

Okay, so I probably do look scary. I am not though. Truly, I am a nice person, but I am intense. At a meet I am focused on what I need to do and until I've done it I don't let myself relax. I have a job to do and it consumes every bit of my attention. I try to smile, I will accept hugs and I try hard to carry on intelligent conversations. Sometimes I am more successful than other times. 

Do I have expectations for next Sunday? Yes I do. I expect I will be better than I was in April. I expect to have a good time with great people. I do have other expectations, but most of all I want to beat the woman I was in April: that is my ultimate goal. I want to make the time my friends will take out of their day to watch me worthwhile for them.

Thanks so much for reading!

Checking In

Have you ever wished you could have a talk with yourself? Just sit yourself down and make sure you're okay and happy. Everything looks fine on the surface, but just below the mask is something else entirely.

Yes, I know it's probably just me. Who would I be if I didn't over think? I like control, I'm not going to lie about that. In fact, control is very important to me. One of my goals, until very, very recently has been to ALWAYS be in control.

Then I became interested in fitness in general and powerlifting in particular. For a year I resisted the increasingly frequent advice and reminders that I was only human, that my schedule was not helping me maximize my strength and I needed to find balance. I nodded, I said "I know" and I continued doing just what I was doing before. Coach T and Coach D must have the patience of saints not to have throttled me.

What happened to change my mind and make me decide that it was important that I really listen and really change.

My father died. It's as simple and as complex as that.

Don't worry, I won't be rehashing my lack of a relationship with him. It was what it was and it's much too late to change it now.

No, what really struck me after he died was that I don't know if he was happy with the life he lived. Did he do the things he wanted to in life? Did he look forward to his days or were they just something he had to get through? I know from my vantage point he never seemed happy. Maybe I'm wrong, actually it's extremely likely I am wrong, but my gut says he was not happy.

I decided in the days after I got the news that things had to change. I had to change.

Why?? By all appearances I am happy, reasonably successful and mostly competent. I had two powerlifting meets under my belt and was preparing for a third. I had a workout routine I loved and coaches I trusted completely. I had a dream, but it seemed too far-fetched and ridiculous to invest in.

Sure Coach D told me he thought I had potential to go far as a powerlifter, but he was my coach. Isn't his job to stroke my ego a little so I don't stop working? When Coach T told me after both of my meets that he was proud of me, wasn't that just him doing his job? If you know Coach D or Coach T at all you know that neither one of them will say something they don't mean. If either of them tell me I've done well it is the truth. When they say they are proud of me those aren't just words: they are the truth.

Would I have decided to pursue my dream if my father were still alive? Eventually I am sure I would have. This dream scares me so at some point I would have gotten sick of being afraid and pursued it. Wondering if my father had truly lived the life he wanted was a push to go after my dream earlier.

So here I sit on a Friday evening two weeks and a couple days from my next meet. The anxiety is there, but it has a different feel this time. I'm not feeling nauseous or scared this time around. I just want to be there. I want it to be Sunday, November 6 at 9:00 am. I want to be standing in front of the squat rack on the platform with Dane and my friends watching. I want to see how far my training, skill and adrenaline will take me that day, maybe as far as a 1000 pound total for the meet. I will text friends unable to be at the meet and let them know how it is going.

 I want to watch other friends lift and cheer for them. When the meet is over I want to go out for a celebratory shot and meal with the people who came to support me.

The work won't be over when November 6th has come and gone. Maybe I'll bring more hardware to Pride for a place on the shelf. Hopefully I'll be able to tell Coach T I made it to 1000 pounds.

After Old School Iron Wars I will be looking for a new federation and new challenges. In 2017, I would like to qualify for a national meet and stand on a much larger platform.

A far-fetched dream perhaps, but it is my dream and I am not content to wonder if I could do it. I need to know the answer.

Checking in with myself I find a mentally tired woman. Eight hours of parent teacher conferences will do that to you. Then trying to compose a coherent, mostly grammatically correct blog to top it off. There is also some physical tiredness from a Flex Friday workout. Deadlifts and bench presses are among some of my favorites, but they will never be classified as easy, not even with "baby weight". Lighter weight just means I must focus more on my form and making sure it is spot on every rep.

Am I happy? Yes, I am. Not every moment, not every day, but at this moment in time with my boxer snuggled against my side and plans with friends for tomorrow evening I am happy and more importantly: I am content.

Thanks for reading!

Leaps and Bounds

Hey, it's me again! I should be writing lesson plans for next week, but I wanted to write intead. Lucky, lucky you.

I've been quiet for a bit. Not because I've had nothing to say, but because I've been busy and trying to decide how to say what I wanted to say. I'm still not sure I know how or have the talent to put the right words to my thoughts and feelings, but I'm going to try.

Let's start with the biggest event in my life: the new Pride Fitness Performance Center. OMG... seriously: OMG! I have no idea how Tyler and Dane got it all done. I know they had help, but still...it is AMAZING! So huge, so new and still familiar and comfortable. That was my biggest worry. When I walked in Monday morning October 3 I must have looked like a kid on Christmas day taking everything in. I didn't hug the walls or anything, but I could have. I brought my two trophies back and Tyler showed me where to put them. I can't imagine he'd had any sleep at all in a while, but he was obviously proud and excited to share the new space.

My favorite space is The Asylum. How could I not love the space with the plates, barbells and a whole lot of dumbbells? There are plenty of villains and heroes there too to inspire the monster or beast within.

After class on Monday I approached Tyler and Dane and asked if there was a time in the next couple of weeks we could meet to discuss my training. Before I could say anything I got a hug from Tyler. It just about got the tears flowing, but I mustered my strength and kept it in. Then I asked if there was time the three of us could talk. Tyler suggested Thursday and I agreed. It worked perfectly: I had a meeting in Newport that afternoon and would be done about 3:30 so I could come early.

Thursday afternoon came and I got more and more anxious as the time got closer. I can remind myself a million times that change is good, but when I am faced with it I worry. The conversation was fine. Dane outlined his thoughts for me and when Tyler came in he looked over Dane's thoughts, they talked a bit and I had a new training plan. Not much changed on the surface, but in reality everything changed. I told Dane I was fine with change, I would follow his advice and recommendations, but I was not willing to lose my training time with Tyler. I agree my training needs to get more specific, but I also need the conditioning, core and mobility work. Besides I like Tyler: I want to spend time with him learning from him. I want the best of both worlds and it seems both of them wanted me to have that too.

Here's my new training schedule, just in case any of you are curious.
Monday: 5:30 am Pride Fit Group Training with Tyler
Tuesday: 5:15pm Personal Training with Dane
               7:15 pm Yoga Corr with Tyler
Wednesday: 6 pm Muscle Hour with Dane
Thursday: 4:15 pm Buddy Training with Dane
Friday: 5:30 am Pride Fit Group Training with Tyler
                                         OR
             6 pm Muscle Hour: Flex Friday

The hardest for me so far has been Friday. The first week I went to Pride Fit class and felt weird not going to Flex Friday. This week I chose Flex Friday and missed Pride Fit even more than I imagined I would. I missed the 5:30 am crew: I have worked out with many of the people in that class since I started working out and I missed them. I missed starting my day in the way that feels normal. ]

I understand I need to work more on my big three lifts for the upcoming meet and my future goals. I am beyond thankful and grateful that Tyler and Dane are willing to work with me and design a program that will give me the opportunity to see if I have what it takes to be on a national platform some day. As Tyler said if that is what I want I need to give it a 100% run. Perhaps I am never meant to be on a national stage, but I refuse to wonder about it: I'm going to give it my all and have the answer. Deep down I think I have what it takes for a national competition, but we'll see.

For the moment I am focused on November 6 and being the strongest, best athlete I can be on that day. After that I will ponder the future.
           
Dane told me recently that I have grown leaps and bounds since he started working with me. He is the one who first suggested powerlifting to me. He is one of my biggest supporters and he pushes me to be better every time I train with him. He keeps telling me that I need to be confident in my abilities. He and Tyler keep upping the ante and expecting I am going to deliver.

Wednesday night at Muscle Hour we were flipping the 475ish pound tire and after I finished 5 flips Tyler was standing in the doorway to the Asylum and he mentioned "the beast" was waiting for me. The beast turned out to be the 525ish pound tire. I have flipped that thing before and jammed the middle finger on my left hand doing it. When I realized what Tyler was talking about I wasn't so sure I was waiting for the beast. I flipped the 475 several more rounds and then decided it was put up or shut up time. I went into the Asylum and watched someone else flip the beast.

Then it was my turn. One of the hardest things about flipping the 525 pound tire is that there seems to be about one spot on the tire you can get a decent grip. I didn't find that spot, but I wasn't letting it go. Tyler was right there encouraging and coaching, he might even have helped me, I'm not sure but I flipped it and didn't jam any fingers this time. Then I got a fist bump. Yeah!! Love those.

Just one more thing and I will let you get back to your regularly scheduled life. For the last several nights I've had a recurring dream. Not a recurring dream really, but one person keeps recurring in my dreams: My father. He hasn't said anything, he is in the background just standing, just watching. The first night it irritated me. I don't remember what I was dreaming, but I was irritated that he was there. Last night I dreamed I was at Pride, in The Asylum, doing what I do best: deadlifting. He was there, in the corner, by the whiteboard that used to have Muscle Hour members' PRs for deadlifts, squats, cleans and presses. He was quiet, he just watched. Tyler and Dane were there too, coaching, cheering me on (I heard "Pull that BAR!" a lot) and when I was done I looked up and my father smiled. Then I woke up.

I am choosing to believe these dreams have been his way of checking in. Maybe he wishes he'd made an effort to understand me when he was alive. I don't know if that's true, I am not interested in speculating, but if he wants to check in from time to time I don't mind. I don't have anything to say, whatever I wanted to say was said in a letter no one will ever read that I wrote and destroyed in Spetember. It is time I move forward and move on.

I am strong, I've always been strong and now I need to gather that strength, move forward and bring every bit of who I am to bear on November 6. I may not set the world on fire, but there will be no doubt that I gave everything I had to give when the meet ends.

One last thing, a couple of pictures then I'll let you get back to your life.

Deadlifts in The Asylum with the Joker watching. I like how it looks like the bar is bending. Photo courtesy of Tyler Tinker.

Isn't that sweet? The barbell kissed me. Bruises from front squat work designed to make me more explosive driving out of the hole when I squat.

Thanks for reading!

My wheelhouse

What a week!

The final two days working out in the old Pride Fitness Performance building. I am excited to see the new Pride Fitness Performance Center, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't sad too. My journey started in that building. I was comfortable there. Even I am wise enough to know that things have to change in order for me to keep growing. So I cried all the way home from Yoga Corr last Tuesday night, I think it is okay to be sad for what's changing at the same time I am excited for what's ahead. When I really think about it rationally the only thing changing is the location: I will still have my coaches and my friends will be there. So my sadness is more about letting go of the familiar than anything else.

Handling change like a sane, rational adult is not in my wheelhouse.

It was Open House at school this week too. As a special educator I never see many parents during the evening so this year I volunteered to help out at the book fair. I got to be a cashier again. I discovered I am no longer suited to being a cashier. Teaching was a much better career choice. Not that I couldn't do it, not that I didn't do it, but I should have set my FitBit to measure the time as a workout, because I am pretty sure my heart rate stayed up the entire time. It was like working retail on Black Friday or on Christmas Eve. Fortunately everyone at the book fair seemed patient and kind.

Being a cashier might be in my wheelhouse, but I don't necessarily like it.

I had a lot of free time this week with no Pride workouts from Wednesday on. If this blog had a soundtrack you would now start to hear some anxiety provoking music. What did I do you ask? Well I did some research....okay I did a lot of research. Seriously people, I need a keeper...I should not be allowed free time: I don't use it well.

What did I research you might be wondering. Or you are just resigned to the fact that this is my blog, and I'm going to tell you whether you care or not. I researched powerlifting federations and choosing your attempts for a powerlifting meet.

First the federations. Why look for something new when I am almost comfortable with Vermont Powerlifting? Sometimes no matter how much I hate change even I have to admit it is necessary. I realize I have only been powelifting for a year, I have two meets under my belt and one looming. I know the nausea and nerves will not be improving if I join another federation.

So knowing all that WHY the hell would I be looking at a new federation?

I want more. I am not content to stay where I am. I have spent far too much of my life wanting more and not daring to go for it. I am not going to do that anymore. If I am not willing to work through the discomfort of change and reach for what I want why should Tyler or Dane give so much of their time and expertise to train me? Why should the friends who come to my meets continue to come to cheer me on?

Maybe I am at the top of my game and I've gone as far as I can with powerlifting, but I'm not content to just assume that: I want to know for sure. I don't want to spend the rest of my life wondering: I want to know. My dream, my goal is to compete in a national meet. I want to see how I measure up to other women my age. I want to see some of the powerlifters I read about in person and watch them lift in person.

As for researching how to pick meet attempts that I was mostly curious about. I know how to do it: Dane told me before my first meet and he picked my attempts for me for my first and second. This time I want to show him my thoughts and get his input. I want to show him I've grown. I've decided after all I read I am just going to pick based on the format he told me about. I read everything from your only goal should be to go 9 for 9 even if you don't PR to go for broke on your third attempt leave everything on the platform.

Handling free time is not in my wheelhouse either.

So what exactly is in my wheelhouse?

I rediscovered that on Saturday. I joined 3 of my friends and Coach Dane at Fortitude Fitness Systems in Lyndonville to participate in Deveney's Decathalon, a fundraising event to support one of the most caring, giving women I know. One of the events was Deadlift. You know I entered that one.

The thing is that recently being behind a loaded bar doesn't feel comfortable. There has been a lot of upheaval in my life since August 25 and it has absolutely impacted me and my training. No, I was not close to my father, in fact we didn't have a relationship at all, but he was still my Dad. I still have to process his death and weave it into the fabric of my life. I still lost a parent.

Yesterday to warm up I loaded the bar with 135 pounds and stepped up to it. I got set and I pulled. It felt good again, it felt right. It felt like coming home. Dane reminded me to get closer to the bar, I put more weight on and pulled again. It felt wonderful. Dane and I discussed me wearing my weight belt. I hadn't planned on it, but I know I need practice to get comfortable with it so in November it is just an extension of me like my Chuck Taylors and the long socks. I put it on and lifted. Before my first pull with it Dane had to remind me to bring my hips up a little. For some reason I put the belt on and I want to squat before I pull. Who knows why...I have learned not to ask, just retrain my body

Then warm up was over and it was time to compete. I had to lift each of my attempts 3 times. My third attempt was 305 pounds and it felt so easy. Adrenaline is a fabulous thing. I was home. I knew what to do: I chalked up, I stepped behind the bar, I set my feet, I set my body and hands, I stared through the opposite wall and I pulled. Later, when I watched a video I heard Coach Dane tell me it was simple and another time that it was baby weight at the time all I heard was my heart thumping along in my chest.

Another friend told me she has never seen me smile as big as I do after I lift. Later on one of my best friends told me I was a master deadlifter (MASTER deadlifter, to copy her words) and another friend told me it was an honor to watch me in my wheelhouse.

It's true, I have a wheelhouse. Deadlifting specifically is in my wheelhouse and to a lesser extent, but something I intend to work on: squatting and bench pressing are in my wheelhouse.

I. Am. A. Powerlifter. I am most at home behind a loaded barbell and that is a wonderful thing.

I have been at this party for a year now, but I've been a wallflower. No more. I am strong. I will ROAR. I will leave no doubt that I have skills. I am home.

Thanks for reading!