Demons

What happens when you finally decide enough is enough? When you realize all the hate and anger you direct at yourself isn't doing anything but killing your fledgling self-esteem inch by inch? When you step into an unfamiliar place and realize you are more scared then you have ever been in your life and all you want to do is run?

Someone commented earlier this week that I bury my demons deep and fight them on my own. Guilty as charged. I have learned to look to my friends for support, but I still insist on fighting the demons on my own. After the battle I turn to my support system and cry on the nearest shoulder before going off to lick my wounds.

Sometimes the battle doesn't leave wounds. It seems like it should, especially if its a demon that's been a part of me for many years. It seems it should leave huge, gaping wounds. Sometimes, or at least this time, the demon went down without any fight at all.  Healing happens when we aren't paying attention. Or so I've decided after some thought. All right...all right: I have been over thinking this since early Sunday morning.

For my squats last week I had three spotters, two flanking the barbell, ready to take it if I couldn't come back up and one behind me. Yes, I did say one behind me. I hate people being behind me, and someone I don't know spotting me from behind has long been a no-no in my book. I had the option of asking one of my coaches to spot me, but I decided against that. Tyler and Dane have taught me well. Tyler has pushed me outside my comfort zone when he could, just far enough to be sure I'd grow, never far enough to make me retreat. I wanted him to see just how far I've come. So sue me: I want to be the teacher's pet, or in this case, the coach's pet. I wanted both of them to be proud of me.

To be honest, of all the things that scared me last Saturday, being spotted from behind by someone I didn't know wasn't even on the radar. Let me give you a brief-ish rundown of what was on my radar.

1. There were at least 20 people there cheering me on...ME. Cheering for me...WTF??? When did I become a "cool kid"??

2. Dane helped me pick my weights for my rounds, but what if he way over estimated my ability? I couldn't let him down- I couldn't.

3. Tyler was there...what if I blew it completely??

4. Ben was there....again, what if I blew it?

5. I had two eggs for breakfast and a quarter cup of almonds to eat all day...that didn't seem like enough fuel. Would I be able to rally? (The granola bar I ate that stayed with me about 45 minutes didn't really count)

6. Nausea...When your childhood nickname is "The Vomit Comet" nausea is a concern. Besides the gold stars weren't in the bag with the rest of my gear.

7. Did I mention what if I couldn't do it?

8. When exactly did I forget other people would be doing this too?

9. Judges?? Seriously, did I not read the rules???

10. Could anyone else see my hands shaking and knees knocking? What if I couldn't even get the bar off the rack, or worse: I couldn't lift it off the ground.

Turns out I could do it and I did do it. I think I may have even made some people take notice.

I learned some things on Saturday, November 7, 2015. I finally recognized that I AM a force to be reckoned with. I knew I was strong, but I didn't know how strong. I experienced a completely new feeling. Not only was I proud of myself, but I felt confident. I knew that 352.74 pounds was coming off the floor. Adrenaline is a wonderful thing and I've experienced it before so I know it played a part.  Along with the adrenaline was a completely new feeling: confidence. The confidence that not only could I do it, but that I WOULD do it was brand new. There was a brief moment of worry that the confidence would be unfounded or that I would become an egomaniac, but I know how to rein myself in and I will. I am not a diva, I am not going to become an egomaniac. I know what I can do, I have no burning desire to rub other people's noses in it.

When confronted by someone recently who said "I bet you think you're pretty strong" I was able to respond "I don't think I'm strong: I KNOW I'm strong". I wasn't bragging, I wasn't trying to start anything with the other person. I was stating a fact and then I went back to the report I was writing. I won't ever apologize for being strong. By the same token I will not be goaded into something I don't want. I am too smart and too old to be baited.

The final demon has been well and truly slain. Let's see just where I can go when I am finally in my own corner. I don't expect to be the best at everything, but I have already seen a new level of determination and focus in myself. I don't always succeed (that 100 pound slam ball infuriates me), but I don't get angry or give up. I do my best and I will bide my time. I will absorb the training and correction, I will give all I have when it is asked of me. At the end of the day I will be the best I am capable of being and I will be enough. I will relish the fist bumps and high fives and allow myself to feel proud of what this body can do.

I am worthy. I am enough. I always have been, I was just slow getting to the party. I'm here now: let's do this!

Thanks for reading!

Team Kim

I don't even know where to begin this post. I honestly don't. Normally I am so comfortable sitting in front of my laptop and pouring my thoughts and feelings out. The crazies enjoy the chance to come out and play. Today there is so much to say and I'm not sure I'm eloquent enough to say it.

So I'll start with this. THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU to Tyler, Kayla, Dane, Jen, Nikki, Carole, Sylvie, Lisa, Eric, Hailey, Ami, Cheryl, Gretchen, Ben, Nedah, Jackie Z., Jackie B., Jennifer, Tom and Heather for trekking to Burlington to watch me compete. I hope I didn't forget anyone, if I did please know it is not intentional. You are all my heroes, my inspiration and the best friends I could ever wish for. Thank you to Vermont Powerlifting for making this rank newbie feel comfortable.

Old School Iron Wars was my introduction  to the world of powerlifting. I'm hooked. I was hooked after my first squat.

Prior to that I was just plain terrified. I was on the verge of tears, nauseated and, in my mind at least, completely out of my league. I got an email from my coach after I'd checked in and changed and it was all I could do not to lose it. He said some wonderfully kind things, and the killer "We're almost there." Such a simple sentence to provoke tears. Then while the meet director was going over the rules I saw more of my friends coming in, including my first coach and I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from crying again.

My opening squat was not pretty, by the way. The judge needed to remind me to step back out of the rack before I nodded. I forgot to keep my eyes up and my hands were shaking even while they were wrapped around the barbell. I finally got it together enough to step back, nod and get the squat command.

Once I squatted it clicked. I swear I heard a click, maybe it was just my creaky left knee protesting. I was still nervous, but less so. It wasn't much different than squatting in the weight cave at Pride. Dane and Tyler were close by watching, studying my form and when I racked the bar I got a high five and a fist bump. Maybe I could do this after all.

My second and third rounds I felt less nervous. My hands weren't shaking anyway, though my stomach was still rolling unpleasantly. I got a PR on my last round. 259 pounds, thank you very much. I was hooked from that moment.

The bench press was my second event. No PR there, but I knew that going in. Dane and I had already discussed it. He and Tyler still coached and supported, but there was no pressure. Rounds 2 and 3 were much easier after I was reminded to keep my elbows in so there was less pressure on my still cranky shoulder.

The last event was my favorite, the one I'd been waiting for all day: deadlift. Dane and Tyler made sure I was warmed up and pumped. My opening round was the heaviest in my flight (295 pounds) and I continued that trend with Round 2 (325 pounds) and Round 3. Round 3 was a PR, 352.74 pounds. If I hadn't been hooked before I would have been at that moment.

My friends, the people who took an entire day of their lives to be there for me were amazing. Every time my name was announced they cheered loudly. I emailed the meet director today to thank him for making my first event painless. He emailed back to thank me for my bravery and for my team. According to him we made the meet. In my eyes: my friends made the meet.

I was there doing my job, doing what I love. My friends were extraordinary.  One of them called me a super hero. I wasn't the super hero: they were the super heroes. They cheered for me every time like I was the best thing ever. I got so many hugs, fist bumps and high fives it was amazing.

All those blue t-shirts, even with my glasses off and no contacts in I saw those t-shirts and it made me determined to succeed. I wasn't going to let all those wonderful people down.

I learned a lot yesterday. I learned that the negative voice in my head is nothing compared to the cheers and support of my friends. I discovered that I am strong and I can take care of myself. I discovered that I am proud of the person I have become. I have worked hard, fought tooth and nail, sweated, cried, bled, ached and never quit. I am proud of this woman I have blossomed into. She is smart, she is strong, she is amazing.

Please don't think I will now be trumpeting my successes from the rooftops. I am proud of myself, but I know my own worth without feeling I have to make everyone else aware of it. I'm a private person despite this blog.

I didn't go into the meet thinking I would bring anything home, except a few bruises from pulling the bar up my shins during the deadlift. Dane told me from the beginning I'd be bringing home some hardware. Turns out he was right: I took first place for women's powerlifting, age 45-49. The trophy is fabulous and will be taking up residence at Pride Fitness Performance after I show it to a few colleagues. I am so proud of what I did, but as I said before: I would not be here now without the training I received. For that reason I think it is fitting and right that my first trophy be in my happy place, the place I first felt proud of myself and the place I will keep going to become better and stronger.

Thanks so much for reading!

Friends

I've been thinking. There's a loaded statement, but it's the truth. I've been thinking A LOT. I might start on one thought, but my mind seems to circle back to one thing time and time again.

What does it mean to be a good friend?

Which is closely followed by another thought:  Am I a good friend?

I'd like to just answer yes, but that would be too easy and my mind wouldn't keep circling back to the same thing if I was certain. I might be obsessive and worrying about nothing, but I'm not so sure. So what do I do when I'm not sure and something is nagging at me? I write and post it here for all you lucky souls. Let's start this off by saying these thoughts are mine and not necessarily reflective of what other people think. These are my crazies and I'm letting them out to play for a little while.

So why all the worry about being a good friend? Partially it is the "On This Day" feature on Facebook. Every day I can look back at what was going on in my life on that day in past years. Recently I have been seeing posts about what I assumed at the time was a true, real friendship with someone who turned out to be interested only in herself and her needs and how exactly I could meet those needs. Yeah, she's not a part of my life anymore. I don't wish her ill, but life is too short to have that level of self-centered childishness in it. I'm sure she would tell you how wonderful she is, how kind, how caring...but actions speak louder than words and her actions clearly pointed to the fact that my place in her life was dependent on what I could do for her at any given time. I could rail on about her for a good deal longer, but why? We won't be speaking again and there is nothing to say in any case.

Onward and upward, right?

Those posts have made me ponder if I'm the same. Am I worried only about my needs? Do my friends know I care about them? You get the picture...there's a whole lot of crazy in that space between my ears.

I look around at my life now and it's hard not to see how blessed I am. I am blessed with the best friends anyone could ever ask for. When I moved in mid-September five friends gave their time to help. One of them helped move heavy stuff despite the fact he had an event on Saturday evening. I was in the audience that night and he didn't look any worse for the wear, but still: he didn't have to help and he did. The other four ladies: I'd walk through hell for any of them. They gave up many hours and two days to be sure all our stuff got into the new house. There aren't words...really there are not.

Here's the thing: I would walk through hell for ANY of my friends, but do they know that? Or do I hold myself aloof enough that they aren't sure how I really feel?

Do the friends who invited me to their wedding this summer know how much they mean to me? How about the friend who is my buddy for buddy training and took me under her wing when I was a scared, anxious newbie hiding in the far corner? Or the friend who was my inspiration when I started and has encouraged me and cheered me every step of the way? What about my trainers, all of whom I consider friends, do they know? What about all the people who are supporting, encouraging and went as far as buying t-shirts with "teamkim" on them? Do any of them have any idea just how overwhelmed I am by their kindness and how much I want to squeeze the stuffing out of every one of them?

Reading this as I write it it's a wonder to me that I get any sleep at all. In between being snuggled and kicked by the snoring boxer and the thoughts in my head it's probably no wonder that when it's time for deep relaxation and turning off my mind at Yoga Corr I often find myself in tears.

Words are cheap and I'm not all that good with them. Ask anyone, when I speak I stumble over my words, I speak too fast or lose my train of thought completely. In my professional life I've managed to get myself under control enough to sound somewhat intelligent most of the time. In my personal life I opt for silence much of the time because it's easier than stumbling over my words. I don't have that problem when I write, the words flow and I feel competent. The best part of writing is the ability to edit: I might stumble or write the wrong thing, but I can go back and fix it before the words go out there into the world. Not so easy when I'm talking to someone.

I try to show by my actions that I care and I appreciate my friends. I will clean homes, move, clean up after training, donate money. I'll cheer myself hoarse when the situation presents itself. I will use words, mostly in messages and emails to thank, check in on and try to encourage people I care about.

Am I a good friend? Not all the time, I'm not perfect: that's just fact. I try, but sometimes my efforts fall short. I'm not perfect, but I'm persistent. Hopefully that counts for something.

Thank you so much to everyone who has joined me on this journey and is still along for the ride. I appreciate it.

Thanks for reading!

Looking for Trouble

How many of you reading this try to prepare yourself for new experiences by doing research? How many of you manage to find articles to read that don't make you  feel more prepared, just more panicked?

As most of you know...and have heard incessantly, my first powerlifting competition will be on Saturday, November 7. I alternate between thinking I'll be okay, it will be fine and wanting to run screaming.

Today I was reading an article titled Top 10 Mistakes Novice Lifters Make .  You might wonder what is wrong with me that I would go in search of an article like that. I didn't actually search out an article with that title. I was curious about how many people would be in a flight so I did a Google search. The first article in the list was the one I read. I will give the author, Matthew Gary, credit. He wasn't going for scaring people new to the sport and he pointed out that the mistakes were easily fixed and offered suggestions. If anyone else is interested the article was on the U.S.A. Powerlifting website. It was a great article, though I still don't know how many lifters could be in a flight. I suspect that depends on how many people are entered in the event. DUH...kind of common sense, huh?

Despite the title, reading the article was probably good for me. I was able to feel better because some of the things the author suggested are things my trainers already thought of.

I have a confession: the first time Tyler told me during Buddy Training that I would be working with Dane and Carole would be working with him I was a little upset. I didn't whine, but the whine was right on the tip of my tongue. Yet again I learned that my trainer is smarter than me and knows EXACTLY what he's doing. Number 2 on the list of mistakes that novices make was "not having any advice and/or assistance from a knowledgeable coach or lifter". Tyler solved that one for me: thank you, thank you, thank you.

Dane knows about lifting and after I got over my initial trepidation and tendency to view new people as a threat I found that I liked him. He doesn't think I'm nuts for being nervous, or at least he tells me I'm not nuts. He has also encouraged me to enter my first event, going as far as researching upcoming events that were relatively close. He and Tyler were at least as excited as me when I PR'ed on my Hex Bar deadlift with 405 pounds. There's something reassuring about feeling your coaches are proud of you and believe in you.

I believe I am as ready as I can be for November 7. That doesn't by any stretch mean that I am not nervous, it just means despite the butterflies waging war in my stomach and the overactive negative voice in my head I will walk into the event and do my very best.

Do I believe, as Dane seems to, that I am going to bring home some hardware from the event? I don't know. A part of me would love to bring home a trophy. Another part of me doesn't think it is even a remote possibility.

If I do wind up with hardware I don't plan for it to be in my home. I will ask Tyler if it can stay at Pride Fitness Performance. Not just because I spend more time there than I do at home, but honestly because I wouldn't be at this place if he hadn't believed in me, encouraged me and pushed me to look beyond what was comfortable and familiar. He and Dane have done their best to bolster my confidence and make sure I have the training I need to succeed. If I do succeed they will get as much credit as I can give: I wouldn't be here without them. End of story.I just want to make people proud. I want to make ME proud. Feeling proud of myself is still new. Sometimes it feels selfish and just plain wrong to think of what I do well. I should be focused on my flaws, right?

I've spent most of my life being focused on my flaws and what I can't do. That hasn't gotten me anywhere and I'm willing to admit it isn't the right approach. I don't have the confidence in myself to think I will amaze anyone on November 7, but I think it's damned amazing I was able to fill out the application and mail it in. For now, that is all the amazing I need.

One small step at a time I am becoming the person I have always been inside. I am strong. I will be proud. I will have confidence in my smarts and my strength.

Thanks for reading!

Long Drives, Breakthroughs & PRs

Brace yourselves readers...I think this could be a long, random ramble. I spent 4 plus hours in my car today and when I wasn't singing at the top of my lungs with whatever song happened to be on the radio I was thinking.

I heard some of my favorite songs this morning. "Stronger" by Kelly Clarkson and "Fight Song" by Rachel Platten. I belted those out. I am just thankful no one else heard. Seriously, it was not a pretty sound. I'm an enthusiastic singer...I'm not necessarily a GOOD singer.

On the way home "Let it Go" was on the radio. I first heard that song during a difficult time in my life and at that time the opening music was enough to get me sobbing. Tonight I held off on singing along and listened to the words. One of the verses struck me "And one thought crystallizes like an icy blast: I'm never going back. The past is in the past."

It's true and I FINALLY realized it: the past is over, it's been over for a long, long time and I'm not going back. I'm not the same person anymore, I couldn't go back even if I wanted to. I'm not 309 pounds. I'm not afraid of my own shadow and everyone around me. Gosh, it only took me four years to figure it out!

When I wasn't massacring songs or wishing I could be at Pride Fitness Performance, I was thinking about my upcoming meet. It was actually supposed to be tomorrow in Lebanon, NH and I was entered to deadlift and bench press. That event got cancelled and now I'm going to Crossfit Burlington on November 7 to participate in powerlifting at Old School Iron Wars.

I'd like to tell you I am pumped. This is the stuff I LOVE! Lifting heavy: Oh heck yeah!! I am pumped and excited and overwhelmed  and terrified. I could add nauseous in there too, but that could be from all the time in the car today. There were tears when I thought about the meet, but that's the part of me that's overwhelmed and doesn't know another way to deal with it right now. This is a huge step for the shy, formerly fat girl. 

I thought about that today too. Why is it all the people around me, whose opinions matter so much believe in me? Many of them are coming to watch me lift. There will be t-shirts. T-shirts?? What the --?? I just don't understand it. 

I am so glad I will have support there. Being able to meet eyes with people I know and trust is going to make everything else that is so damn far outside my comfort zone bearable. Yes I love to deadlift and I have done it in front of other people, but the location was completely familiar and the people there are friends. I even knew the judges, which didn't mean they were going to give me any passes if I didn't lift well, but there's comfort in the familiar.

I know I'll have PLENTY of familiar faces at the meet and I appreciate that so so much. What scares me is wondering if I'll be able to block out the unfamiliar and focus on the job at hand. One of my coaches told me he thinks I'll bring home some hardware from the meet. Not in my wildest dreams can I fathom that, nor do I expect to place. 

At the end of the day I just want to do my best and make the people who took time out of their lives to cheer me feel like it was time well spent. They'll be wearing t-shirts to support me for goodness sake. I want to get the job done: I don't want to half-ass this. 

Thursday night was buddy training. My buddy was enjoying some rare downtime so basically it was me with Tyler and Dane. I got to deadlift using the hex bar. The first pull felt heavy as hell, I didn't know if I was even going to get close to my PR of 385 pounds. After each round of hex bar deadlifts I left the Weight Cave and used a blank barbell to practice my Romanian Deadlifts.

The last time I walked into the weight cave the hex bar looked pretty darn full. The black band was there holding the plates on, barely and Tyler told me it was 405 pounds. Dane got into position to watch. I chalked up, pictured completing the pull and stepped into position. When I started I wasn't sure the bar was coming up. Then it came up a fraction of an inch and a little more and I had to complete the lift. No way was I getting it off the floor and NOT completing the pull. Returning it to the floor wasn't as gentle and smooth as I wanted it to be, but I can work on that part. The important moment was proving I am strong enough to pull 405 pounds with the hex bar. Maybe it means I'm strong enough to pull more than 325 in a conventional deadlift.

I found a tank top I LOVE on activateapparel.com. I'll share it with you and then let you get back to your evening. Thanks for reading!!

Normal

I took one of those quizzes Facebook loves to put on my news feed. This one was supposed to sum up your life in six words. I was intrigued by the idea and curious to see how this quiz would take words or pictures I preferred over others and sum up my life. I can't come up with a way to sum up my life and I live it.

This was my result: You live outside the normal box.

My first thought: "Well, DUH!" This was closely followed by my second thought which was "Just what is normal anyway?"

I have read in various places that normal is just a setting on a dryer. I'd like to think I appear normal to those who don't know me. A little quiet and shy, but generally a nice person. I strive to be good. I try to help people out when I am able, even if I choose to do it anonymously. If I choose to do something to help I am not doing it to be known.

Then there's the me that walks into Pride Fitness Performance. Every time I have butterflies in my stomach. Every. Single. Time. I don't know why, but they're real. Most people walk in and greet Tyler with a smile and a hello. I walk in and often we don't say anything to each other. At first it bothered me, I worried Tyler would think I didn't like him, or I was angry or upset. Or worse, I worried that he would decide he didn't like me. It isn't any of those things. I LOVE Pride, it's my happy place, the place I can go and be strong and competent.

It's not that I don't want to joke and kid around, its not that I don't sometimes do those things. Mostly though I feel like I am walking in the door on a mission. My mission is to prove to myself that I deserve to be called a warrior, a beast, a badass, a ninja, a rock star and I deserve the praise I get. I do know my coaches and my friends well enough to know if I didn't deserve the praise I wouldn't get it.

Maybe I don't live inside the "normal box" after all. Special Educator by day, warrior by night. I kind of like the sound of that. Maybe I'm more of a beast though. I did lift 650 pounds at the Summer Pride Games. Let's compromise and I'll be a warrior beast.

My goal from the very first day of this journey, when it was all I could do to walk through the door, has been to be strong. Not just lift 650 pounds strong, but strong enough that when I say no there is no question in any one's mind that trying to make no into yes won't happen. Maybe that's naive, it probably is, but at least I feel certain I would give as good as I got. I've been weak, I've been scared, I've been angry and bitter.

I am none of those things now: I am strong. I have always been strong, but I had to uncover that strength bit by bit. As I shed pounds I shed a little more of the armor I used to protect myself. I've come to realize that the armor never protected me, it held me back and kept me mired in the past.

In other news, my first foray into the world of powerlifting events has been postponed by a few weeks. The event I had entered on October 17 had to be cancelled. At first I was deeply disappointed, then I looked at the events scheduled for November 7 and 8 in Burlington. I could enter a real powerlifting competition. I could squat, bench press and deadlift. Suddenly not being able to debut on October 17 didn't seem so bad. I had more time to train AND I could do 3 of my favorite things.

I've kept you long enough.

Thanks so much for reading!

Superstar

The singlet I will need to wear for my first bench press in a public forum has arrived. I tried it on, mostly to be sure I'd ordered the right size and was surprised that it didn't look as hideous as I'd worried it would. I'm not saying it is something I would choose to wear and it certainly showed every lump and bump, but it wasn't horrible.

The singlet pre-Tyler.

Then I did something really scary: I handed the singlet over to Tyler. He offered to put the Pride Fitness Performance logo on it and then asked me about tiger stripes. I trust him not to do anything too flashy, I think. No, really I do trust him, plus I don't think anyone else will really pay much attention to me. I'll just be another competitor.

Which brings me to the title of this post. A friend I don't normally think of as prone to exaggeration referred to me as a "superstar" last night when we were chatting. I protested that I'm not any such thing: I just like to lift heavy and seem to have some talent in that area, not to mention a lot of training. She told me that I could have my opinion and everyone else could have theirs. She's right. I keep forgetting that what other people think of me is none of my business. I should just be thankful I have a core group who want to come watch me and will be there for support when I'm on the verge of panic and want to run. Trust me, I know myself and I know I will reach that point at least once on October 17.

My support crew wants to have t-shirts. T-shirts? For me? I'm bewildered, flattered and frankly overwhelmed. I resisted for awhile and was told it was happening and to deal with it. I made two requests: 1. That the men who got me to where I am be honored (Ben and Tyler both graciously agreed to their logos being on the t-shirt: thank you). 2. I asked that I not be referred to as a hero. I don't regard lifting heavy as being heroic. I have friends who have battled cancer, friends who are both mom and dad to their children, friends who serve our country in the military or as doctors, EMTs or firefighters: They are the heroes. I'm just the woman who lifts heavy stuff. Fortunately the two women who took on this project agreed to my requests. Carole and Nikki: Thank you both for taking this one on.

Thinking about being called a superstar got me thinking about why it is important to me to deadlift and bench press. Once I finally committed to this process of getting healthy and fit I promised myself I would be strong. Strong enough to be heard when I wanted to be heard. Strong enough to trust people and not always be looking for the exit. Strong enough to give anyone who might want to hassle me pause. Strong enough that if someone wanted to hurt me I would give as good as I got. Sometimes life is scary: I want to be confident that I can handle anything that comes my way.

I do realize that some of the reasons I have for wanting to be strong have nothing to do with physical strength. For me, being physically strong has translated into being mentally and emotionally strong as well. Feeling better about myself has made me more confident: I stand taller and I don't always remain quiet when I have something to say.

Thanks for reading!

Powerlifting

I finally did it. I sent in an application for my first powerlifting event. On Saturday, October 17 I will be taking part in the KDR Iron Push Pull-Powerlifting and CrossFit Meet in Leabanon, NH.  Well, I will be once VT Powerlifting gets my application and deposits my entry fee.

Until this week my response has been "someday" when asked when I'd enter an event. Then Dane did some research for me. When he told me about two upcoming meets I was interested, but more than interested I was surprised. He didn't need to do anything like that for me. Maybe he saw something in me I didn't see, maybe I needed to pay attention.

I thought about it, I sought advice from friends and one friend asked "Why not?" Again, someone that didn't need to say anything, but chose to respond. Many friends responded and they were all enthusiastic. So I did my own research, reading articles, watching videos and considered it more seriously.

I printed the application I just filled out and mailed and pondered the idea a little more. Then I took the final step and asked the person whose opinion on the subject mattered most to me. If he thought I should give it a go then it was time. The final decision was always mine and I did make it.

I am my own worst critic. I see the weaknesses, others see the progress. I know this and that is why I appreciate and value my support system so much.

How do I feel about my decision? I feel it was the right decision, but I am scared. Competing in the Pride Games is one thing, this is something else. I will have friends there, I will have a coach there with me and another I will email as soon as I finish. Apparently there will be t-shirts...still not sure how I feel about that one other than humbled and bewildered.

I even had an offer to buy my singlet if I'd have the Pride logo on it and maybe tiger stripes.

I'm just humbled. I don't know what else to say.

I've never done a bench press or a deadlift for judges I don't know. Then there will be the spectators. At least with the spectators I can convince myself its just like the Pride Games. The judge/judges not so much. Some of the articles I've read have warned that you need to listen really hard and carefully for your cues. CUES?!? I'm going to have to try not to vomit from nerves and listen for cues? This could be a very exciting day for everyone.

What do I hope to gain from this event? I want to see how I measure up. I don't care about awards, a fist bump when I'm done will be more than enough. I want to learn more about powerlifting and most of all I want to have fun.

And...I want to make everyone who comes to watch proud. These are people with lives, families and jobs: they are going to choose to spend time watching me. If that's not humbling I don't know what is.

I will write again before the event. At the moment I'm a little distracted by an upcoming move, but I'll write about that soon.

In the meantime I'm going to be the best teacher I can be, train as hard as I can to be the best I can be and try to remember at the end of the day I am always enough and I am always worthy.

Thanks for reading!

Warrior

It was a big week. The start of the school year, Pride Warrior week at my happy place, the Summer Pride Games and a wedding. If no one can find me tomorrow just go to my room and look under my desk, I might be taking a nap. Just poke me, I'll get moving again.

I love teaching. I really do. It's never easy, but the most worthwhile things in life never are. For well  more than half of the last sixteen years when asked to tell about myself I would lead with "I'm a teacher." It is still important to me and I take my job extremely seriously, but I have discovered I need more. If all I do is teach I am not doing myself, my colleagues or my students any favors. When I focus too much on one thing I get obsessive: I can't let little things go and I magnify my faults until they seem like insurmountable obstacles. I need balance.

Maybe I should say I'm working on balance in my life. I have a new love, besides my boxer and my cats. Actually I've had this new love since 2012, but until this summer I didn't really commit myself fully. I always kept something in reserve, just in case it didn't work out. I knew where the exit was and I was ready to use it at a moment's notice.

Over the summer I realized how much  I truly LOVED getting fit. I finally tore down the last barrier and told myself there was no exit: this was a part of my life, a critically important part and I became a fixture at Pride Fitness Performance. Several times I even joked with Tyler about moving in and paying him rent since I spent most of my time there anyhow.

In our first day of inservice, our morning presenter asked us each to give our names, tell where we worked, our grade level and something interesting. Prior to this year I left it at "I'm Kimberly Swett. I'm a special educator at Derby Elementary". This year I added that I had completed my third Tough Mudder in June. There were some oohs of surprise from people not in my building, but it was a complete shift for me. Not only am I a teacher, I am an athlete. I admitted it and it felt 100% right.

My complete commitment to the program and the process resulted in an amazing honor. On Friday morning, at the end of the workout Tyler announced the next Pride Warrior. I had my own thoughts about who it might be, I never thought of myself.

No one was more surprised than me when he said my name. I'm not one for public recognition, but while I was biting my lip and the inside of my cheek to keep the tears in I felt an unfamiliar feeling. I felt proud. There, it's out: I AM PROUD OF MYSELF. I worked hard, I dug deep, I tried to do everything that was asked of me and even when I didn't succeed I came back for more. Let me shout it again: I AM PROUD OF MYSELF.

Saturday started with the Summer Pride Games. It was so much fun. I got sweaty, exhausted and the Vomit Comet made another appearance, but I'd do it all again today. It was inspiring to see how many talented, strong people I am surrounded by every day. Fist bumps and cheers to EVERY participant. You are ALL amazing, strong and inspiring!

I had highlights yesterday and I'll talk about them here, but I want to say one more time that everyone was AMAZING!

1. Da Beast (Tractor Tire Deadlift): I said in my post on July 26 that I had a goal for myself to deadlift 618 pounds. In case you missed that post my rationale for that weight was that at my heaviest I was 309 pounds and 618 was double that. It seemed important to me to lift double my heaviest weight to prove I could do it and to remind myself once and for all that I am NOT that woman any longer.

I had some stiff competition yesterday. Eric, Pat, Aaron and Vell weren't going to let me win, they made me work for it. Work I did, when all was said and done I lifted 650 pounds. I came out in first place and I definitely blew my goal out of the water. I was pumped.

2. Simba (500m row, 50m prowler push): I was so pumped from the deadlift still that when the Simba event started I considered doing it. Those who know me or read this blog know the prowler is an old friend. I will push it anywhere and the more weight you pile on it the happier I am. You also know about my love/hate relationship with the rowing machines. Just about every time I get on one Tyler's earning a gold star. A few friends reminded me how much I love the prowler and that 500 meters really wasn't that much and I had done it before without giving a gold star.

When the rower opened up and Tyler said "Anyone else" my body took over. Before my mind could frame a suitable excuse I was sitting on the rower getting my feet strapped in. My inner whiner urged me to get off and be sensible, but I was already holding the handle, body tensed for Tyler to say go. The whiner quieted with a final "Oh hell, this is going to be a DISASTER." Then it was go time.

I pulled harder than I ever have before. There was coaching from Dane and Tyler and from my fellow participants. I really have no clue what anyone said because I was concentrating so hard on pulling that handle with as much force as I could muster each time so the 500 meters would be over before the vomit comet entered.

After the 500 meters was reached I had to get off and head for the prowler. There was a concerning moment when I felt light headed and the world got fuzzy around the edges. I had at least two people tell me after they were saw the color drain from my face and were worried for me. I wondered for a little bit if I would pass out, but I started I HAD to finish. I had to go from one end of the gym to the other 3 times. The first pass wasn't too bad, the second pass about did me in. I was about one good push from the prowler touching Dane's hand so I could make my final pass and I dropped. I felt done, there was nothing in the tank and I couldn't catch my breath. I am pretty sure Tyler told me to breathe (or I heard his voice in my head) and I think either Tyler or Dane told me not to quit or that I wouldn't quit (or I'm hearing voices and I need some serious help). It took time, but I rallied. I was NOT quitting, there was something somewhere in me to get this finished. I found that last bit of fight and I used it.

Then I headed for the bathroom...and almost had to clean the entire room. I'll spare you the details, but it was DISGUSTING and for about 30 minutes after I wasn't sure I was done yet. Sipping water and breathing deep helped, but wow it was intense. I have never dug that deep.

3. Mufasa (135 lb. barbell carry, slams, tire flips): I wanted to compete in this event so much. I lifted the 135 pound bar and could not clean it to get it in position to carry. It killed me not to be able to do it, but there was no way. I TRIED though and I didn't let the fact I couldn't get it ruin my day. I can say I gave it my best and I am proud of that.

4. Tag Team Relay: Gretchen agreed to be my partner. I did the strength moves (slams, tire flips) and she did the cardio (Lateral jump burpees, pond run and wall). I think we were a great team and we finished. In my book that's a win.

5. King of the Mountain (1:1 Tug-o-War): Either the universe has an awesome sense of humor or Tyler wanted to really push me. The names of all the participants went into a hat and he drew them out 2 at a time. He explained the rules: he would start by drawing two names and the winner of that round would stay and face the next competitor until they were bested or until the end.

Can you guess what happened? Oh yeah, my freaking name came out first. What the actual HELL??? I was first and I had to face Barry?!? Okay, dig deep, dig in and pull with everything you've got. I pulled Barry over the line, but it was close. I almost didn't pull Eric over the line, then I got angry. Not at Eric, but at the fact my feet were sliding closer to that line and I wasn't done yet.

I made it to Pat and he got me. My grip strength was about gone and he pulled the rope out of my hand. Then he faced Keri. I was content with being in second place, I did better than I thought I could. Then Tyler said Pat and I would have a rematch. Pat won, there was a moment when I thought maybe I could pull him over, but he is beyond strong and I lost the rope. No problem: I exceeded what I thought I could: I was proud of myself. Nothing to be ashamed of at all.

Congratulations to Barry and Pat who tied for first place at the Pride Games. You both have my deepest respect. Tyler and Dane: thank you for an amazing event, for the encouragement and coaching. Eric: you are my hero and the man I respect and trust the most in this world. Truly. You made me work for that deadlift and the tug of war and you cheered me on when I wanted to be done. To all the participants: I am honored and blessed to know each of you. I learn from each of you and I am so grateful for your support and encouragement.

I got a message yesterday that sums up how I feel and how proud I am of the woman I've fought to become. YOU. ARE. A. WARRIOR. To the person who sent it: I hope I made you proud. I fought for me, but my ability to fight as hard as I did is a direct reflection of the training and support I have received.

It's a new feeling, a really new feeling really, but I AM PROUD OF MYSELF. I like this feeling, it's been a long time coming. A very long time I'm sure some of you are saying and possibly there is some eye rolling going on too. What can I say: I'm stubborn and I have to prove things to myself over and over again.

Thank you Carole R. for the picture. Tractor Tire Deadlift PR: 650 pounds.

Wow, this was a long one. I had A LOT to say.

Thanks for reading!

Grateful

I tend to be one of those people who thanks everyone for everything. It's just who I am: if you've done something I appreciated I want to let you know. I worry sometimes that people might think I'm just sucking up to them, or I don't really mean it or that I am working too hard to make them like me.

Let me assure any of you reading this that I am NOT sucking up. I don't believe in doing that. I DO want people to like me, but in my 45 years I have figured out I can't make that happen. Some people will like me, others will tolerate me and some people will downright hate me. I am me, the only person I can be.

So why do I thank people? Life is short, I don't know what will happen tomorrow or two hours from now and I want to be sure that those I appreciate know I feel that way. I lost my stepfather in 2007 and though I spent a good deal of time with him there were still some things that I didn't say before the end. I can't change that now, it's too late. I made myself a promise then that moving forward I would be sure to say what I needed to say.

It gets a little complicated because I'm shy and quiet, so sometimes instead of saying what I feel I email. There is nothing wrong with email, I'm not saying that, but I am working on actually speaking when I have something to say. Don't expect an overnight change...this is a slow process and I'm a stubborn person.

The people I thank most regularly are the fitness professionals in my life. They have pushed me, believed in me, encouraged me, talked me off the edge, reminded me I can't be the best all the time, been proud of me (I hope that at least), gone the extra mile to make sure I accomplished what they knew I could and have never told me to buzz off. I'd say that never telling me to get lost should get them all nominated for sainthood.

I don't know if you knew this about me, but I perseverate on things...and I restate the obvious  A LOT. Seriously, if you've known me for longer than five minutes you know full well that I can get "stuck" on anything. Another item on my "Work on This" list is learning to let things go. I hope I'm going to live to be about 900 years old...it's going to take at least that long to work on all the items on my list.

I'm not sure any of the fitness professionals I know are going to appreciate this, but I have some things I'd like to specifically say to each of them and I'm doing it in this public forum. Sorry guys...if you ask nicely and promise me tire flips I might consider taking this down...maybe.

Why this post and why now? I am starting my sixteenth year of teaching and yesterday I met with a parent whom I worked with about four years ago. She told me how happy she was I was her child's case manager because I was good. I've been thinking about it ever since and realized that as a teacher I don't always hear the positives and how nice it felt to know I was appreciated. So Ben, Mary and Tyler it's time I make sure you know how appreciated you are.

Yes, I'm going to get sappy and mushy. Not nearly as sappy or mushy as I want to be, because frankly I don't have the words to really express what I feel, but I'll give it my best shot.

1) Ben,

You gave me my start. You always tell me you provided the information and I took it and ran with it. Maybe so, but without your belief in me from the beginning I don't know that I could have run with anything. I was depressed, angry, hurt, scared and done with it all. You let me be myself and you worked with what I gave you.

As I learned more and got more comfortable you upped the ante, but made it clear all you wanted was my best. You showed me I was strong and kindled my passion for deadlifts, the prowler and my all-time favorite: tire flips.

I hope when you look at what I've done and continue to do you feel satisfied that your time, effort, energy and caring were well spent. I hope you are proud and realize what a monumental difference you made in my life.

2) Mary,

I met you not long after I met Ben and to be honest at first I wasn't sure I would like you. I now know I don't just like you: I adore you. You have given me great advice when I have asked, which I don't tend to do often enough. You are kind, compassionate and you pushed me to be the best I could be. I haven't had a chance to workout with you in a long while due to a crazy schedule and life, but there will be a time I show up again. Thank you so much for being the right blend of tough and kind.

3) Tyler,

Truly I don't have the words I want to tell you how much your coaching has meant. You have NEVER given up on me and I've given you plenty of opportunity to do so. I'll never forget our first conversation after the sale was announced. You asked me to do two things for you: Give you a chance and be honest. I must have looked as scared as I felt inside because what you said was exactly the right thing.

You have a true gift for knowing the right thing to say at the right time. You have gotten me to step back and think or dig deep and fight harder more times than I can count. When I want to give up you are always right there. There are times I despise you for that, but mostly I am so unbelievably grateful. I asked you to help me work on my fear of box jumps and jumping over things and you did so. When I was too anxious to jump on the picnic table or the tire you didn't berate me or tell me to do it: you gave me a regression. I guess you knew that eventually my own stubborn competitive nature was going to push me to get it done and I did.

It never ceases to amaze me that you know when to push me and when to back off and leave me alone. I can never thank you enough for the coaching, the advice and that you are willing to just listen to me when I need to vent.


To all of you, thank you from the bottom of my heart for turning a 309 pound, scared and angry woman into a badass athlete. Please know that you have my deepest appreciation and you should each feel proud of my accomplishments because you were all instrumental in helping me get where I am. 

So there you have it. Public thanks which I could have just sent privately to each person. I have done that though and this time it was important enough to me that I wanted it in a more public forum. The people I addressed are all somewhat private, so if they ask I will remove this post. I want to express my appreciation and gratitude, but I never want anyone to feel uncomfortable. Except me, I need to feel uncomfortable to grow.

Thanks for reading!

Me

Guess who this blog post will be about. No, really, go on guess!

Yep, it's my blog about my journey...this post will be about me. I admit, not the most exciting of subjects, but if the advice to write what you know is true there isn't much else I could write about.

I'm entering my 16th year of teaching this year. Also my seventh year at the same school. For me seven years in the same place is a record. I am rather proud of the fact that I've worked in other schools. I've taught under a variety of administrators and learned something from each one.

Then there's my personal life. That's been steady: I workout every chance I get. With school starting I will cut back to 4 Pride Fit classes per week, 1 Yoga Corr session, Muscle Hour and Buddy Training. That's still a lot of working out, but I love every second of it. Lifting heavy, flipping things, pushing myself to my limits those things are my therapy. If some gold stars get earned along the way then it's a price I'm willing to pay. If Pride Fitness Performance gives out awards for the most gold stars given to Tyler I'm in the lead at the moment. Go me? My childhood nickname was the Vomit Comet...it's not exactly a surprise I'm giving out gold stars.

In other news, just in case you missed me trumpeting it on Facebook I have a new Hex Bar deadlift PR: 385 pounds. That's more than I have ever weighed. That makes me ridiculously happy. On the straight bar I can deadlift 365 pounds with the bar about 5 inches off the floor. From the floor my last deadlift was 325 pounds. Next Saturday I will find out my new PR for the Tractor Tire deadlift at the Pride Games. Time will tell, but I know I will at least lift 550 pounds.

Has every workout since my last post been stellar? Nope, but as someone recently pointed out to me when I was having a tantrum: Not every workout is going to be amazing. I might PR one night then not do so great the next day: that's the way it works. I'm paraphrasing what was said to me, I'm not nearly that wise on my own.

There's something else that's come back to my attention recently. The scale has gone down, the clothes have gotten smaller and I am still the same person.

That's something you don't hear about or think about too much when you decide it's time to take control and change your life: You might change the way you look, maybe you will change your mindset to a degree, but there is still some of who you were before along for the ride.

I like myself more than I used to, but I can't say I love myself. When I do something well I am kind to myself, surprised I did it yes, but I am kind. When I don't do something well all bets are off and I am as nasty and mean to myself as I have ever been. It makes me sad when I reflect on it, I am fortunate to have a group of people surrounding me who support me and remind me that not being able to climb a rope or run without wanting to drop dead is NOT the end of the world and not a reflection of my worth as a human.

I guess I tolerate myself...time to work on that loving myself piece. Other people like me. I have good qualities. I know I've said before I need to work on the inside, it's probably time to start on that.

Before I go, I found this T-shirt online today and I think I need it.

I Know I Lift Like A Girl Try To Keep Up  ~This is perfect for me!!!

Thanks for reading.

Memories

Tough Mudder #1 , Boa Constrictor,  August 10, 2013

Three years ago today I completed my first Tough Mudder. I was terrified going into it and while I was looking through pictures of that experience today I was reminded of something that happened near the beginning of course that could have easily derailed me completely. I chose not to be derailed because I'm not that weak, I never have been.

I am writing about this only because I strive to be honest. I don't want to dig up the past, especially not painful memories, but this one has been on my mind all day and if I don't write about it I'll spend most of the night staring at the ceiling thinking.

First the memory, then I have a few other things to say.

It was near the beginning of the course. Hailey and I were heading up the mountain. Some rude, cocky young guys were off the side of the course in the shade joking around with each other. Then we walked past and I heard "Badasses?!? Yeah right, look how slow they are going."

The woman I am now would likely have confronted the little twits. The woman I was then wanted to crawl off the course and prove the jerks right. I was there with a team though and there was no way I was going to let them down. I kept my head down, shed my tears and kept going. The mean, vindictive person in my head was gratified later on to see one of the cocky guys being removed from the course by medical personnel: he had twisted his ankle and his buddies left with him. I'm not necessarily proud of how happy it made me that they didn't finish the course, but it was how I felt and I own that. Hey, be thankful I didn't do a happy dance and point and laugh at them. At the time I felt like that was just how young guys acted, it was just another instance of how men were jerks. I don't feel that way any longer. I have three men in my life who have shown me nothing but kindness and support. They have all pushed me to be my best and believe in myself. One I've known since I was in elementary school, one started me on my current journey and the third I've only been training with for a little over a year, but he is absolutely a trusted sounding board and support. Just ask him how many emails he gets from me in a week's time. Poor man... There is no doubt there are men who are jerks out there: I know some of that variety too. News flash: there are also women who are jerks: I am among that number myself from time to time. Shocking I know, but lord knows I can be a HUGE jerk. Nothing I'm proud of, but I strive for honesty. I thought of those guys today. I even wondered if time and life have conspired to teach them some tolerance and manners. Mostly I remembered how terrified I was at the beginning of the course, how those mean words hurt and how freeing it was to stumble under the finish line. I wasn't the fastest finisher, but I was a finisher. I didn't quit when the going got tough, I was tougher than any temporary circumstances. Above it all, what I learned from my first Tough Mudder was that I am WORTH the time, effort and sweat it is taking to become the woman I want to be. Now I want to be an American Ninja Warrior, we'll see how that dream goes. There is also a strong desire to see just how strong I really am, so I am not ruling out competing in a strongman competition at some point. You never know what crazy idea I will come up with next. Thanks for reading!

That "F" word

I had a friend request last week that I not use the word fail to describe anything I attempted and didn't complete. I agreed to try and since then everything seems determined to test my ability to keep a promise.

Not that I'm dwelling on it, okay, I'm not dwelling on it MUCH. Oh all right, in the interest of complete honesty and looking like a whiny little kid having a tantrum I'm trying not to dwell on it without much success.

I am making progress, I know I am, but my inner perfectionist wants it all NOW. I want to make it to the top of the rope, I want to cross the monkey bars, then use the peg board and get over the combat wall.In addition I want to be strong, I want to be able to get into black crow and hold it, I want my power cleans to be good, a deadlift PR in the 400 pound range and I want to be able to flip the 525 pound tire. Oh, and I can't forget that I really, really want to be more flexible too.

I seem to have difficulty with being realistic too. I have no doubt that I can accomplish most of the things on my list, but what I have trouble with is the time frame it may take to accomplish my goals.

Then there was the dynamic warm-up before Insane Intervals this morning. I don't like side shuffles most days, but this morning there was an arm movement too. It didn't go so well. I am usually hyper focused on my feet, but this morning I was trying to get the arm movement down too. My feet crossed about 2 shuffles in and down I went. Just falling would have been enough, but no, I had to tumble too.

About the only good thing I can say about my tumble is that I didn't slam my shoulder into the turf. I'm not sure what I did slam the whole thing is a blur, but my right hip and right knee are sore. No pain, but plenty of soreness.

Just call me grace...

I don't want to just be negative and whiny so I should note that when we were doing the quad stretches I was actually able to grab my left ankle and stretch that quad. Normally that leg isn't close enough for me to even dream of grabbing it. Today I could. Another bonus was not giving away a gold star after my time on the rower this morning. I earned (barely, but I did it) a T2 challenge and I didn't vomit. That should more than make up for my tumble during side shuffles. It might take time, but I know the wins will stay in my mind and the less successful moments will fade.

Another win: I'm willing to trust a little more as well. This week I was coached by someone I don't know and as uncomfortable as I was with it, I persevered. You know me, you know I don't like change, but there comes a time when I have to trust the person in charge (my trainer in this case) and believe he only wants what's best for me. It helped tremendously that my trainer was right there. Call me a wimp, but I still have some comfort zones that I won't let go of. One baby step at a time.

I'm not trying to be a pill or a pain. I don't want to make my trainer's job harder. I try to do everything he asks of me to the best of my ability with a minimum of whining. The fact is that it is MY job to take care of myself and part of that is being aware of what makes me uncomfortable. When you hate yourself that doesn't matter, but I am trying very hard not to hate myself anymore.

Off to gather my ice packs to ice my hip and knee before I go to bed so I'll be ready for Saturday Morning Sweat.

Thanks for reading.