Let's Talk About Disappointment

This past weekend was supposed to be the weekend that I earned my Spartan Trifecta. The weekend that I beasted the rope climb. The weekend that I found my physical and mental limits and pushed through them.

It was also supposed to be a special weekend for my oldest son and I.

See, this kid is my always down to take on a challenge kid. He's my drop everything to help mom out kid. He's my patiently listen to me rant and rage when I'm stressed kid. And he so rarely gets the acknowledgement that he deserves.

This Trifecta weekend started as a goal he and I made together. It's a special way for us to celebrate our mother-son bond. But it's also important to me that my son see me achieve this. I want him to see how strong, determined, and powerful a woman can be. I want to strengthen the respect he has for women. I want to reinforce his understanding that women can.

Spartan has given me the opportunity to watch my son demonstrate respect for my strength by pushing me to go harder, while also maintaining his chivalry by doing every burpee with me even though he didn't have to do them.

Unfortunately, he's an adult now and bound by adult responsibilities. When he found out he would no longer be able to have off work for Trifecta weekend, I had to decide whether or not to run anyway. Without him.

Except that it wasn't really a decision. Of course I couldn't run without him. This is our thing. He's the only one willing to carry me through the monkey bars. And for real, mama ain't made of money. Race entries are expensive.

It was disappointing. I spent the weekend watching my friends post photos and send videos and update statuses while they completed their Trifecta. I was jealous. I mean, I was so excited for them and so so proud of them. But I was also completely jealous of them. But that's ok. Disappointment just serves to increase the drive for success. It just makes me hungrier for a Spartan Beast. Last week I was anxiously nervous to face a Beast. Now I'm craving it. I NEED it.

So, new plan.

We'll defer our race entries and take on the Sprint, Super, and Beast as we are able to. At this point, it looks like we'll be able to kick off our Trifecta races in November. (Or I may have to make him quit his job so it stops interfering with my extracurriculars...)

And when we crush the Beast together, it will have been totally worth the temporary disappointment.

It's the Final Countdown

I happened to glance at the calendar today.

One month. 

I have exactly one month before taking on my Spartan Trifecta.

I think probably the best way to describe what I felt when that realization hit was massive heart-wrenching panic. Like, death panic. Like, dear Lord where is the unregister button panic? Like, how do I undo the drastic decision to take on a freakin Spartan Trifecta panic???

And then I got it together.

I'm good.

This rope, though. This frustrating, defeating, mocking, obnoxious rope. 

I just can't master it. 

Yet.

I've been given yet another exercise to practice my form and movement. The people giving me all of these techniques are people that can actually climb the rope. I mean, they have to know what they're talking about, right? Seriously. My dad was a dang Army Ranger. If he doesn't know about ropes, then who does??? No, no. I'm still good. Just breath.

Ok. Sit on the ground, legs out straight, and pull myself up without bending my knees.

K. So, I've got that. Easy peasy. 

I should be able to climb the rope now, right? 

Except no. 

I'm close. I'm sooooo close. 

But still, no. Close doesn't work in Spartan.

Ok. So, someone else is probably going to need to be in charge of my life choices going forward.

For now, click here donate to Girls on the Run so I can know I'm not putting myself through this for nothing. Please?

Sometimes I Just Wave To My Limits

I was supposed to run 6 miles today. Mostly because that's the random mileage that someone else ran, so I felt peer pressured to do the same. Really, I probably should have run closer to 10, but forget that. 

It was after noon.

In July.

In Virginia.

It's possible that I opted for a 15 minute-turned two hour nap after work today rather than immediately heading out for a run. So, when I came out of my sleep coma around 2:00pm, I looked at my weather app. She said it was a nice 73 degrees outside. So I put on my running clothes and headed out the door.

First, let me assure you that it was most definitely NOT 73 degrees at 3:00pm today. (For those of you good with the math, it's possible that I laid in the bed catching up on my Facebook feed for an hour or so before actually getting up and going for a run...)

Weather chick lied. It was at LEAST 568 degrees. (With the humidity. The actual temperature was probably closer to 93 degrees. Still. Definitely not 73.)

Second, I think that sometimes it's ok not to push your limits. I think sometimes it's ok to see your limits coming (often in the form of dizziness, nausea, and possible hallucinations) and kind of acknowledge them from afar. Like, just a quick head nod or maybe even a little bow to let them know that you both recognize them AND respect them. And that you have no intentions of challenging them today in 568 degree weather.

My limits are safe today.

I may visit them again later in the week. And wave at them from a safe distance.

DONATE TO GIRLS ON THE RUN so girls have a chance to acknowledge and even push through their own limits...like more effectively than I did today.

Fingertip Push Ups...I Can Do Those

So, I talked to the boy today. The one that wasn't supposed to know that I hadn't been practicing my rope climb?

Yeah, him.

He lectured me.

My two-weeks overdue so I had to have pitocin during two days of childbirth first born son lectured me.

I listened.

Then, in an effort to impress him and make amends, I decided to show him the fingertip push ups that I can do now.

"Watch this."

I dropped to the kitchen floor and got one full push up in on my fingertips.

Impressive, right?

"Yeah, mom. But, um, what was up with all that clicking? You sound like a roller coaster making a climb. Down, chk chk chk. Up, chk chk chk. Is that your shoulder making those sounds? What actual part of your body is about to pop out of alignment in this process?"

....

Ok, but I think what we need to focus on here is that your 42 year old mother of two just did a fingertip push up.

I mean, I can't do anymore now because of the laughter, but still.

I'm going to be so ready for Spartan...

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The Reason for the Ladder

Don't tell the eldest son this, but I haven't practiced my rope climb in over a week. I've been a little distracted by play. It's summertime and I'm grown. I've earned playtime. (But for real, don't tell him.)

After mowing today, guilt kicked in and the rope started calling to me (not very nicely, either), so I decided to get some practice in.

Unfortunately, if you slack off for a week, you start to lose the little bit of progress you've gained. After several minutes of hanging there unable to get my feet set, I remembered my dad's suggestion to climb a ladder and start from the top.

So, I got the ladder out. It took me a while to find it. I'm not one to do my own home repairs, so I've never actually used it before. I'm not even quite sure where it came from. Most likely my dad donated it hoping I would become some kind of independent woman who handles her own to-do list. Whatever. The point is, I found it and began setting it up to practice my rope climb...

Did you know that if you leave a ladder sitting unused for several years, wasps are very likely to build their home there?

So, maybe I now have a wasp-infested ladder just sitting outside of my basement door. And possibly I didn't warn the kids that are currently in the basement. But really, they should be reading my blog in support of my fundraising efforts anyway, right?

I'm hoping one of them will put the ladder away for me so I can go back to practicing my rope climb.

And I also hope that the one who does isn't allergic to stings.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll be on my couch the rest of the day waiting to see if the pain subsides or if benadryl is in order.

Fingertip Burpees?

I've been told that in order to climb the rope, I need to improve my grip strength. I was further told that in order to improve my grip strength, I need to do burpees on my fingertips. No, really. Someone actually said these words to me. Like, fingertip burpees are a real thing.

I'm not sure how I've managed to collect such a sadistic group of  friends, but I was told I could start with planks on my fingertips and then progress to the fingertip burpees. Because planks on your fingertips are less painful?

No. I did 1.3 seconds last night and I wimpered the entire time. I managed 2.2 today without tears. If I keep practicing, I'll be at a full minute by the end of the month. Wait. No. Math. Two months? Whatever. It just better help me get up that rope.

Even the foster cat thinks I'm ridiculous.

I hate these. Therefore I must do them.

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It's the real reason I'm doing all of this.

Rope Climb. My Nemesis

I dislike burpees. Like, intensely dislike. You know how you can be enjoying your favorite, most delicious meal, contemplating how perfect your life is and then for no clear reason you bite down on your tongue with enough force to crush through a human bone? It makes you want to punch someone in the face. And it's not just the pain. It's the fact that you've been chewing food your whole life. How can you not have this down yet? After 42 years of practice, why is your tongue still getting in the way???

So, burpees are worse than that. And Spartans are littered with them. You have to do 30 of them for every obstacle you fail to complete. 30. How is that a reasonable number? I mean, if I can't climb up a rope, how can I be expected to rock out 30 burpees in a row? During my last Spartan, I had to do 120 of them. ONE HUNDRED AND TWENTY. BURPEES. I will not do that many during my next Spartan. I refuse.

So, I'm tackling one obstacle at a time.

Rope Climb.

Bring it.

....if you need me, I'm over here practicing my burpees...


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Spartan Trifecta Weekend and Girls on the Run

Here's the deal. Last year my son and I took on a Spartan Sprint. It was phenomenal. BUT, the boy had to carry me through several obstacles. (Like, literally carry me...up over his head...so I could make it through the monkey bars.)

So, when I suggested that this year we race a Spartan Trifecta weekend, he readily agreed...on one condition. "Mom, you've GOT to get stronger. Please don't make me carry you through three races in one weekend."

Fair enough. I'll train hard and show him just how strong his momma can be.

But then I figured, why not blog about my process and try to raise money for an awesome cause at the same time? Enter Girls on the Run. Last year, I had the amazing opportunity to help coach a team of elementary school girls through the Central Virginia Girls on the Run program. It was a powerful experience, watching these girls grow in their strength, character, and confidence in a matter of weeks.

And that's why we're here. Over the next few months, I will share how well (or not so well) my training is going and I will occasionally remind you about my goal to raise $500 for Girls on the Run of Central Virginia.

Hopefully you'll watch me get stronger and successfully take on a Spartan Beast, Super, and Sprint in August. Orrrr, you'll watch me have some fun and then bribe my son to carry me through three Spartan races in one weekend.

Incidentally, I happen to be eating an ice cream drumstick as I write this.

Training starts tomorrow.