More About the RKC

Sunday, November 16, 2008

Work 6p-8a--153.5#

Team Jones, October 2008 St. Paul RKC

This weekend marks a month since the RKC. I've done a lot of thinking for that month trying to understand what made the RKC weekend such a special experience and trying to find a way to articulate it. Jason Marshall, RKC helped this process along some with his post about being an assistant instructor. He commented on being around a group of people who "get it" with regards to fitness and nutrition. Certainly, the kettlebell workouts at the RKC represent a force to be reckoned with, and the instruction is unsurpassed, taxing the mind much the way the muscles are taxed--productively and to exhaustion. Surviving and even at times thriving on this intensity and being presented with one's RKC definitely instills a wonderful sense of accomplishment and pride. These things alone make the weekend worthwhile and probably would still even qualify it as amazing. The people there, however, are the reason coming home is so bittersweet, making the days after feel a bit anticlimactic.

Almost every day, either just after rolling out of bed or before settling in for a night of family time, I grab my music, some water and my bells and I exorcise my demons. This includes the days otherwise filled with a fourteen hour workday and days when the weather could easily be considered too hot or too cold or too wet. It includes days when I really just don't feel like it and times when everyone else at the house is doing something different.

To fuel such insanity, I further confound my skeptics by choosing real food. No matter how frequently they ask, I still don't order anything from Sonic or eat a piece of pie. That's at best low-octane fare, and I'm looking for jet fuel. I don't want to cancel out all the hard work with the bells with Twinkies, birthday cake and Doritoes--at least on a regular basis.

When I talk about these choices to work toward a better me, the sideways glances, smirks, and comments about my "cattleballs" tell me few people in my circle "get it." They see a passing phase they look forward to seeing go by the way side. But the other RKC's and candidates understand. They get it. They live it. They make the same choices.

To be able to be around someone who understands and encourages is priceless. I worried that the RKC would be one large pissing contest, every man and woman for him/herself. But it was so far from that, it was a collaboration of effort, each person there to see the others succeed. Feats of strength were not resented but applauded and defeats were shared by teammates who did all they knew to do to help those defeats be overcome. When all of the grunting and sweating was done for the day, we shared a meal and a beer, and found fast friends amongst our comrades as we swapped stories of patients, clients and personal goals, accomplishments and disappoinments. All the while feeling a sense of being at home with family.

This comradery, I think, is what makes the weekend something to miss when it's over, something I'm still thinking about 4 weeks later.

WORKOUT:
VO2 Max for 60 rounds of swings with the 12kg.

My fingers are still bothering me, and I think I might have even had a setback with the left pinky. It hurt like hell tonight--probably because I did a lot of 1HS today during my workout. I had been doing it all as 2HS, but my hands felt good today before the workout, so I decided to see how it'd go. That apparently bit me in the ass. The right 4th digit, however, seems to be continuing to heal. I did finally suck it up and do x-rays at work tonight because the left pinky was hurting so badly--negative, of course.

YESTERDAY'S WORKOUT:
5 rounds for time which took me 22 minutes:
Pullups assisted with the black and green bands (1 round done with just the green) x 5
Box jumps x 5
Pushups x 5--These are still really hard for me for some reason. They are truly my kryptonite.
Pistols, assisted with one hand on the door-facing 2/2
hindu pushups x 8
Jumping lunges x 20

AMAP 16kg TGU in 15min = 22

FRIDAY NO WORKOUT

THURSDAY:
20 Squat Thrusts/5 16kg swings
18 ST/10 swings
16 ST/15 swings
down to 2 ST/50 swings.... for time was 21'40"

WEDNESDAY'S WORKOUT:
4 Rounds of 4 of each of the following:
Double 16kg C&P
Double 16kg Squat
Double 16 kg KB Burpee
Double 16kg RR
1 min rest

Double KB swing 15 x 4

2 rounds of 30 seconds of each of the following with the 12kg (2 min in between)
on the right..
alternating high pull and snatch
press
squat
clean
swing
figure 8 to a hold
with the left...
swing
clean
squat
press
alternating high pull and snatch

Goals

Saturday, October 18, 2008
Work 6p-8a--154#

I cannot remember life without a goal--or two or three. Always, even as a very young girl, there was the goal of becoming a doctor. There were years of school spent fighting off illness in hopes of perfect attendance recognition. (Yes, I was/am an uber-geek.) There were hours upon hours of working for "A's," knowing I wanted to be valedictorian, and what college I wanted to get into, med school, residency, and so on. For over a year after I graduated from residency, I had this overwhelming sensation of being lost. My entire life had been dedicated to reaching that one point at which I could cast my philanthropic net out onto the world, seining out its demons of illness and disease. Suddenly I was there, at the very crossroads of life I had been trudging so hard to reach, and I had no idea which way to go from there. The terrain at that crossroads was different than I had anticipated. Turns out no one really wanted any one's help, much less my own. People had much rather wallow in their misery in search of a magic pill. And all the remaining roads ahead seemed flat and smooth by comparison with no foreseeable obstacles to overcome. I was accustomed to having bumpy hills to climb. Funny thing was, when the road smoothed out and I could see what was coming, life seemed a little boring. The hills kept me wondering what was on the other side of them and whether whatever it was would live up to my expectations.

After a while, I learned to enjoy the smooth road, and I learned to make it my own with other somewhat more random goals. I learned to use an SLR camera and committed to an ongoing improvement of my skills with that. I honed my skills with my firearms in some classes. I read more. I tackled Photoshop. I got in better shape. And, well, then there's the RKC. That one kind of snuck up on me.

From the first time I picked up my Dragon Door 8kg bell (I'm talking the one from back in the day with the thin handle and rubber coating), I knew I would eventually try to tackle the RKC. I just didn't know when that time would present itself. Oddly enough, it presented itself this summer, and here I am on the other side of another goal. I find myself alternately proudly elated and saddened. I am, justifiably or not, pleased with myself for having made it through the weekend and passed. Unfortunately, I had always pictured myself going through it as a lean, mean kettlebell machine, rocking the weekend all sculpted and schtuff. Somehow, in my psyche, the accomplishment is lessened slightly by my not having concommitantly reached my goal physique. One goal reached and celebrated, the spectre of another somewhat casting a shadow over it. I am excited, too, about the people I have met and the friends I have made. I look forward to their e-mails and calls, but I miss my new-found friends with their optimism and fervor. And I feel a little bit lonely with no one close by with whom to share my enthusiasm and hash out my next steps.

I've spent this last week mulling all of this over and wondering where I go from here. My workouts, though good, have felt lack-luster since I don't have a specific place for them to go. Again I find myself a little lost, so I've been thinking a lot about the next goal. There is always the apparently never-ending quest for aesthetic happiness, but I need the more important markers of physical accomplishment, the steady increase in strength and stamina. Somehow just saying, "I will do a pull-up by April," or "I'll be doing pistols by the end of March," just doesn't seem to be as inspiring as "I'll have my RKC in October." Don't get me wrong, I enjoy training for training's sake, training for life and all it has to offer, but right now I'm feeling the need for something else to add to that. I've thought about the RKC II in April, but I just don't know that I can justify the expenditure at this point--or convince the hubbie that it's a great idea. ;) For now, I guess I'll just have to settle for that pull-up and those pistols and enjoy the long, smooth road.

WORKOUT:
1 20KG TGU per side.
5 rounds of 30 sec each:
16kg reverse lunge L
16kg reverse lunge R
16kg swing
rest

Rest a few minutes

5 rounds of 30 sec each:
pull-up with green bands for the first 2 sets and green and purple bands for the last 3
push-up--my abs are still frikkin' killing me from last weekend. I dropped down to knees so I could adhere to perfect form.
rest

rest a few minutes

Tabata squat-thrusts alternating with burpees. ARRGH!

Masochism-- and, yes, I know I'm remarkably photogenic.

Wednesday, October 15, 2008

Work 6p-8a

158.5#--Yes, I have to be one of a very few people who actually frikkin' gained weight at the RKC. And I swear I didn't even eat more except a planned splurge on Sunday night. ARGH!

No matter how much I ponder it, I just cannot muster the words to describe this weekend. Time and again over the last few days, I have sat with my computer in my lap, trying to find what to say, and each time I have moved to the next task on my list, unable to get started. So I've come to the conclusion that I should just begin and let the words take on a life of their own with no heed to eloquence or chronology or anything else, really, except the need to somehow record some of what the RKC was for me.

I'd be a fool to say I left home Thursday with no sense of anxiety, so I'll not even try that little white lie. Whether from the change in schedule, excitement, nerves or a combination of it all, I don't know, but regardless, I could not sleep Wednesday night, so I just got up early to get ready to meet my ride. With the wheels in motion, my nerves settled, and I got progressively more excited until I found the sweet little gift of chewing gum someone so kindly left attached to my seat belt on the plane. As luck would have it, the couple in front of me on the plane heard me complaining to the flight attendant and turned around to loan me some fingernail polish remover to help de-gum. Turns out, they were a couple from Montgomery, Alabama who own a Crossfit gym there and were also on their way to the cert. Mark Lemkuhl, the husband, would even turn out to be on my team. Gum removed from all but a small portion of my pants, we landed safely and headed out, picking up Sandy Sommer at the baggage claim (no implication here that Sandy would be baggage). Shortly after getting settled at the hotel, Sandy and I had dinner with Angela, another friend he had met online who would also turn out to be on our team. Then we headed over to the meet and greet where we found out on what teams we would be and met some of the others naive enough or masochistic enough for this weekend. About 9 o'clock folks started filtering out, heading off in search of rest before our big day on Friday.

I was no exception to that rule, and found myself sound asleep by 11:00...and wide awake again at 5 a.m. at which point I began to think horrible thoughts of failure about the snatch test. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't think positive thoughts about it. They were all negative, horribly negative. And they manifested themselves a few hours later. The day started with a weigh-in to know how many snatches we had to do, and guess what...I did have to do 50 snatches, not 40. I had read the chart wrong when I thought I was reassuring myself. I read it right when I had the freak-out spell. All I could think was, "Fuck, Fuck, Fuck, Fuck, Fuck...." and that only got worse when they told me I couldn't use my Tracy Rif Socks. I could have sworn I read that they would be fine, and I didn't specifically ask David if they were okay for the snatch test, just the weekend in general. So when Phil stopped me and told me I couldn't use them, I came unglued. My hands were horribly sweaty before I even started. By the time I hit the 22nd rep on the left, my starting arm, the bell almost flew out of my hand. Instead of trying to recover and go to my strong arm, I just dropped an "F" bomb and set the bell down. I wanted to punch something so badly I was shaking, but I knew if I did, I would break my hand and the weekend would really be done. So I sucked it up and went on. I was pissed, but I went on.

My anger from my failure at the snatch test and my fear that I would not be able to master it on the second attempt fill my memories of the first day. We learned the nuances of teaching the swing and get-up and clean, did 2 or 3 full workouts and over 700 hundred swings. Every 20-30 minutes the gym-boss would tell us to get up and do some swings, so the speaker would stop and have us do just that. Sometimes, someone would commit a safety violation or be late or lazy getting back to the circle and we'd have to do some more. Honestly, other than absorbing the information, I didn't care. I was just so angry about that snatch test, and I was trying to formulate a plan for the next morning.

The day done, dinner had, and a few hours of sleep behind me, I woke up yet again at the buttcrack of dawn. But the second day I was bound and determined not to defeat myself before I started. I visualized myself finishing the test, sometimes with the 16kg, sometimes with the 12kg, but I tried to always think of myself as finishing it. I just couldn't decide what route to take--the 16 or the 12. I was so afraid my grip would peter out again with the 16, but I'd never even attempted 80 straight 12kg snatches that I could remember. I was pretty sure I could do them, though. I talked with Sandy about it, asked Dave, asked my assistants. I hate making decisions. In the end, I nailed the test and the rest of the day was so much better for it. It's probably a good thing, too, because I don't think I've ever been as physically exhausted as I was that day. We learned the snatch, squat and press, did the VO2 Max protocol, a squat workout, a bazillion swings, and goodness only knows what else. Just when my body was about to disown me, the day came to an end. To celebrate...dinner at a fun little restaurant downtown then off to bed.

I knew as I went to bed that I would wake up sore. I had been spared any soreness Saturday morning, but there was just no hope that that would happen after the day we had had on Saturday. Man, I was right. Getting up and getting moving was the right idea, though, and John DuCane's morning QiGong exercise loosened us all up and got us ready to have our form tested on all the exercises, teach a student or two, then do the grad workout. I even got the added bonus of meeting the Friday's on Sunday morning. As if that weren't treat enough, they decided to meet all of us who were staying in town and go to dinner later that night. After a weekend of hard work, we all cut loose and had a great time at a little brew pub a couple of blocks from the hotel. Then went back and FELL into bed.

These are the facts. I'm still trying to collect my thoughts enough to express more about my feelings on the weekend. When I do, there'll be more.

Here are some pics...

I'm not sure what I'm practicing here. Probably cleans, but I've obviously just gotten a big dose of something wickedly sour--probably the fresh memory of my jacked up snatch test.

Keep it tight! Practicing my roundhouse kick as I encourage Beau to keep it all pulled together.
Doing some cleans against the fence (a.k.a. against the wall) to teach "taming the arc."
Day Two...

Mr. Whitley demonstrates what can be accomplished with a bit of tension.

Susan Finley, RKC II gives me a moment on camera after spending the day encouraging me and imparting the nuances of perfect form. (Please note teammates passed out on the ground behind us.)

Sandy Sommer and I revel in the idea that not only is day two over, but we survived it.

Peter and I get ready for the graduate workout. He's a state trooper in Pennsylvania and a SUPER nice guy. I'm not sure why he looks like he thinks I'm crazy here.

20 sec walking see-saw press, 10 sec reset, 20 sec swing, 10 sec rest...for the length of the field.

The last step of the graduate workout with Sandy cheering me on. The brunette to my right is Kelly Cassidy from Massachusetts. As I was wandering around the meet & greet looking like a lost puppy, she rescued me, pulling me into her group and warmly welcoming me in. We started the weekend together, and thanks to her, we ended it together, too. She crossed the line first, and came back to join me as I finished my grad workout. I was privileged to make friends with her this weekend, and have no doubts she will be an absolute force as an RKC.

On the morning of the last day, we were given a "victim" to teach the swing and get-up. As I was finishing that up and carrying the bells back to the gym, I hear my name and see none other than Fawn Friday looking straight at me! How exciting!!! Aaron was there, too, and they cheered us on during the grad workout after which we snapped some pics. I know I had my picture made with Fawn at some point during this, but for some reason I can't find it. Regardless, I found the one of me and Aaron and have one of the two of them. I'm just tickled beyond words to have gotten to meet them in person.

The girls of Team Jones...Me, Aileen, Angela, and Bre.

Team Jones

Me; Breana Berry (Minneapolis, MN Real Estate Agent); Beau Nelson (Chicago, IL trainer); Drew Kearns (Lynchburg, VA trainer); Sandor Sommer (Towson, Maryland trainer); Trevis Chandler (San Francisco, CA); Peter Myers (Lander, PA highway patrol); Scott Ward (Waukegan, IL paramedic); Paul Gerard (St. Paul, MN postal employee); Phil Scarito, RKC; Rick Carranza, RKC; Armand Lavallee (Brigham, MA trainer); Aileen Medina (Washington D. C. trainer); Angela Ramos (Crown Point, IN trainer); Susan Finley, RKC II; Brett Jones, Master RKC; Jared Fleurent (Fairhaven, MA trainer); Mark Lemkuhl (Montgomery, AL Crossfit).

We're official! I'm really glad that Sandy and I got to go through this together. We had the opportunity to talk several times before the weekend came around, often bouncing ideas off each other and hoping we were as prepared as we felt like we were. Having someone I "knew" (though we'd never met in person) there with whom to commiserate was nice.

And, well, there's just not enough to say about David...

This is what Kelly looks like when she's not slinging bells. And it's yet another example of how photogenic I am. This was taken before I consumed a single drop of alcohol.

I couldn't resist taking a snap of the wine bottle. How funny is that name?!

"Here, hold my beer."

As much credit as I have to give David for bent pressing Fawn, doing a Turkish get-up balancing a pitcher of beer on one's fist is quite impressive. Kelly even showed off with a windmill after she got to standing before she went all the way back down with it. That's Mary Ann, a trainer from Miami, doing the spotting--couldn't risk losing any beer, now could we?

Yes, I know some of these activities are likely to be questioned under the RKC code of conduct, but the restaurant was largely empty by this time...

TODAY'S WORKOUT: I nailed the 20kg TGU on both sides today. It was my first attempt.

3 rounds of 30 sec each...each round separated by 1 min of rest.

Double 16kg squat

Double 16kg C&P

Double 16kg Renegade Row

double 16kg swing.

Tabata swings with the 20kg.

More later. :)

A.M. Day 3
I was right. I awakened with my quads, flutes, abs, and hands
pondering leading a mutiny. I lured them back with promises of
dessert. Wish me luck.
Sent from my iPhone

End of day 2...

My muscles are exhausted in ways I can't even explain. I've definitely
tapped reserves I didn't know I had. I was surprised this morning when
I wasn't sore but I don't think that will be the case in the a.m. I'm
one big lactic acid pool. We did about a gajillion swings on top of
the vo2 max protocol (which rocks btw) & a couple more workouts in
and of themselves. My hands are holding up fairly well from a skin
standpoint but are swollen and tight--even fatigued. Actually I think
every cell in my body is fatigued. Overall the day was better though
because my mind was in the right place. :)
Tomorrow is a big day from a certification standpoint. We teach a
newcomer for an hour or so & have to take ourselves safely through the
graduate workout (can't wait to see you guys Fawn!). Apparently the
teaching is über important. As it should be.
Thanks for all your well wishes and happy vibes!
Now I must sleep.
Sent from my iPhone

Quick update. I got it! :)

More later.

Sent from my iPhone

Dinner day 1. After a chocolate martini my mind us a little closer to
right. But I'm still not feeling good--colossally pissed. There was
actually one point during the day when I questioned ever picking up a
bell again which is wrong b/c my form was solid on all the
instructional stuff. The snatch test has just fucked with my head. I
woke up @ 5am worrying about it so I was hosed before I started. Gonna
go back to the hotel room & do some visualization. Can't thank you all
enough for the encouraging words--I can't even begin to say what they
have meant. I am physically & emotionally exhausted & they were just
what I needed. I'll post more details about everything when I get home.

Midday day 1. My mind is totally in the wrong place. I'm a fucking
puss. Unworthy POS. Why am I even here?
Sent from my iPhone

Meet & greet

I'm thinking the posts will be fewer & farther between starting
tomorrow, but I thought I'd post about how the meet & greet went.

Lots of healthy, friendly folks around. I tend to be a bit of an
introvert in situations like tonight but the people were warm enough
that I couldn't stay that way too long. Lots if 20-somethings and a
fairly diverse crowd geographically. I'll be on Brett Jones's team
with Sandy Sandor and some guys from Boston that I've met so far.

I ran into Pavel @ the check in desk as I was going to my room. He's
very personable even if obviously looking forward to the sadism of the
weekend. Soft spoken and smaller than I'd pictured.

Off to bed now. Thanks for everyone's many words of encouragement. :)

Sent from my iPhone

As I was gathering my things this morning to head out for St. Paul, I
grabbed my list I made at work the day before yesterday to make sure
that
I wasn't forgetting anything. When I left work yesterday morning, I
grabbed my things in a hurry, paying no attention to this list I'd set
aside hours before. This morning,though, I noticed the other
handwriting & the note my friend Jamie had left behind.

I spend an inordinate amount of my life feeling guilty for first one
thing, then another--mostly feeling that I fail to be the wife,
daughter, sister and friend that I should be. It is my eternal catch
22. Time for one thing takes time away from another thus preventing me
from feeling too good about the time spent. As much as I am looking
forward to this trip, I'm sitting here at the airport feeling like a
schmuck for leaving the hubbie by himself for 5 days or not taking the
five days to be with my sister & mom who are spending the week
together. It really never ends.

Every now & then, though, I think maybe I don't suck so bad & feel a
little less guilty. See why I'm always talking about being the
luckiest girl in the world? A husband I hate to leave & friends like
these...

Looking Back

Tuesday, October 7, 2008
Work 6p-8a--154.5#

Today, I got up, dressed and began my short workout for the day, 20 16kg snatches on each side. When I first started working with kettlebells, the 8kg was my best friend, and I couldn't even imagine snatching a 16kg one the first time. Then, rolling the idea of going to the RKC over in my mind, 20 16kg snatches were not even in my realm of possibility. I destinctly remember thinking there was just no way that much weight was going up that many times. I was in absolute awe of the women listed as RKC's. That was 3 or 4 years ago now, long enough that I can't remember the date, only the feelings associated with it and loosely setting a goal for myself. As I look forward to this weekend (though I admit it's bittersweet since I'm leaving the hubbie behind for 5 days), I'm amazed at how far I've come, and I have to admit, I'm kind of looking forward to what the next 3 or 4 years hold.

More pics from last week...
Mom always loves playing with the grandkids, and what better toy than an empty paper towel tube?

My nephew was actually trying to crow in this picture, and it turned into this adorable grin.

Narcoleptic Dreams

Monday, October 6, 2008

Work 6p-8a--154#

The hubbie and I decided that neuroscientists should develop a way to hook up to people and see their dreams. I'm almost certain that I could syndicate mine. Sleep rarely comes to me without amazingly vivid dreams. Though I've not yet learned to bring about a specific dream on command, when I have a type of dream that is familiar to me, I can control it. For instance, when I dream about flying, I can fly where I want, swirling and swooping, landing and taking off as I please. When my maternal grandmother was alive, we would go to her house every Sunday for dinner which she would cook while we were all gone to church. It was always a magnificent Southern feast, and when I dream about watching her cook it, I can ask her to tell me certain stories I used to love or ask her to cook a specific thing that I have been craving. As you might imagine, I love having dreams like these.

The dreams are not, however, always good ones, and I am apparently more stressed about the RKC than I thought I was. Today I dreamed that I went outside to do a few snatches the day before leaving for the RKC, and I just could not turn one out no matter what I did. And the bells kept having wierd defects. One's handle was to thin to grip and wobbly, about to fall off. Another looked deceptively small but was just too heavy. No amount of effort would put any of them overhead. I awakened tense and full of dread.

When I did finally drag myself out of bed, though, my workout went okay and consisted of...

WORKOUT: 3 sets of 15/15 16kg snatches, 1 min apart.

On a lighter note, I went to see Mom and Dad last week and got the chance to snap a few pics. Here are a few of the ones of Gypsy. She is a border collie, Australian shepherd mix who is quite entertaining. Can you tell she loves my dad?

What Was I Looking At?

Sunday, September 28, 2008

Work 6p-8a--154#

I went to the Dragon Door website to look up the men's requirements tonight and thought I'd just glance at the women's requirements. For whatever reason, I was placing myself in the 165# weight class, but if I'm looking at it right, at 154# I should fall in the 148-165# weight class. WOO HOO! That means I only have to do 40 16kg snatches. I'M THERE! I'm not sweating this nearly as badly now. WHEW!

Here are some more pics from last weekend. In the last two, D is trying to tell me how many years old he will be in a couple weeks. It's actually 3-years-old.

Facing Things Head On

Thursday, September 25, 2008
Work 6p-8a--154#

My last name growing up started with an "A." As a result, I was most often first for everything, good and bad, in school. Oral presentations, PE performance evaluations, whatever--I was always the first to be required to step up. Years of doing this conditioned me to look forward to this position-no long, drawn out period of dread--approach the project prepared, do the work, sit back and watch as everyone else sweated the wait. Eventually, I just started volunteering to be in the first 3 or 4 of anything. I hated sitting, waiting, doing nothing as my mind drummed up a thousand ways I could fail or otherwise humiliate myself.

My dad, an ex-Marine, was aware of my fear of the dark. As a result, he would always wait until the last small glimpse of light was disappearing to tell me about those times I needed to be the one to feed the animals or the one to take the garbage out. On a small farm in rural Tennessee, we had no outside lights around the house, much less the barn. My father always felt they ruined the view of the night sky (as an adult I now agree, but I'm still glad he eventually added the light to the outside of the house that we can turn on when we need it). The barn was about 200 yards from the house and, at the time, had no lights at all, so I had to go with a flashlight--if we had one with batteries that worked. Absolutely scared out of my mind, I would make the walk to the barn, do the feeding and watering, and absolutely haul ass back to the house, all the while convinced that some soul-sucking goblin was lurking behind me ready to pounce at any moment. But I went, and I got the job done. And at some point 20 or so years later, I realized what he was doing all those years. He was showing me how to function in the face of my fears. I have an amazing father.

Too bad he didn't know what a block I've got about jumping...

So today when I approached my workout which was scheduled to be 3 light rounds of 12 16kg snatches per side followed by a minute of rest, I decided I had to know if I could get 50 snatches with the 16. I started with the less strong arm, getting 23, then got 25 with the stronger one. I'm two away. Not what I hoped, but better than it could have been. Then I finished the other rounds.

On a different note, many, many thanks to all of my friends out there who continue to read what I have to say and who comment and give words of encouragement, including much needed swift kicks in the ass. I really can't even begin to tell you how much I appreciate you and enjoy our friendship.

More pictures from this weekend...I put them in because I love seeing everyone else's pics, regardless what they're of. Should you begin to bore of them, or become annoyed by their presence, please let me know.

Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Work 6p-8a, 154#

I've officially had my first wig-out spell regarding the looming RKC courtesy of today's posted pictures from the most recently completed one. I got Dragon Door's mass e-mail when I checked my box about 9pm and promptly clicked the link for the pics. Intellectually understanding that I am going to be the fat kid (yet again) is somehow different from seeing it in full color on the internet. Too, being the fat kid is one thing if you still kick ass in the process, but all of a sudden I'm scared to death that I'm gonna make an ass of myself instead of kicking ass. Knowing that I am going to be performing in a higher weight class than I had intended doesn't help any either. I had a minor meltdown and e-mailed David with a plea that reeked of estrogen, begging reassurance. I hate those moments when I'm an absolute, full-blown puss. I may need to grow a set before I get on that plane. I seem to have lost mine.

So to a realm where I feel more confident...Here are a few of those promised pics from this weekend.

NO WORKOUT today. It was a scheduled off day.

Team Sport or Individual?

Monday, September 22, 2008
Off-155#

The need for acceptance is one of life's great motivators, and as such, I believe the idea of being part of a team appeals to many of us. I am, in many ways, an individualist, thriving in situations where I can function alone, unhampered by others' preconceived notions of how things should be done. I do not rigidly adhere to my own ideas when I am offered another, better solution to a problem, but I have found that others do, at least until they have wasted too much of my precious time trying to convince them of the better way. This rigidity and willingness to waste time arguing an invalid point is what sends me off on my own. I often find myself painfully disappointed by others' inability and unwillingness to think outside the proverbial "box," their ineptitude, their lack of dedication, their downright laziness. At the risk of sounding conceited, I seldom find myself inspired enough by people to want to be a part of their team.

Alone, however, we have a tendency to stagnate. One of the beautiful aspects of being part of a team is being elevated to the level of the better players (assuming one chooses his or her team wisely). Of course, our "teams" can be any number of peer groups--an actual team, the people with whom you work, a workout group, or a book or photography club. The key is to surround yourself with people who have the same drive, determination, and skill level you have--or even more if you can. Being around others this way will spark creativity and discussions that will lead to exchanges of information. The teammates who are more skilled will inspire and instruct while those with skills not quite as good as you will prompt you to understand your skills better in order to teach and elevate them. The intellectual interchange with people of similar interest can be amazingly stimulating. And not to be overlooked, is the value of a sense of belonging.

This last year I quite often have found myself missing this stimulation. At first, I didn't understand exactly what was wrong, why I felt so much like I was floating aimlessly. Then I went to California for a photography class. While I was there, I was a part of this amazing group of photographers who made me understand how painfully elementary my skills are. I was so outclassed as to be embarrassed that I was there. As I said many times that week, I am not accustomed to being the remedial student, but eventually I realized there was nothing I could do about it except spend as much time with the others as I could, learn from them and get better. The experience was amazing, exhilarating, and enlightening. Thinking about it in retrospect, I began to understand that being a part of a stimulating group like this one was what was missing. Though the hubby provides a great deal of intellectual stimulation, he has little interest in some of my favorite things and therefore cannot provide the type of feedback and exchange that I miss. Though I have amazing and wonderful friends here, they, too, have different interests and haven't exactly been able to provide that feedback I seek. (This is slowly changing, however, as some of my friends pick up kettlebells and enjoy them.) Most of my life, I have been a part of groups of some sort or another, often in a leadership capacity, but always as a part of some sort of intellectual interchange. The last time I clearly had that type of comradery was over 5 years ago now, in residency. Fortunately, though, the internet has snuck up on me and provides some of that stimulation that I miss. Reading forums and blogs have begun to fill that gap. Where they fall short is in the lack of real-time interaction. I miss sitting down and hashing out a problem by brainstorming with others who stimulate me, bouncing ideas around until hours have passed without our even noticing, discussing the details and the possibilities, with open minds and lots of fervor.

Today, David sent me a new program; we'll be working on getting ready for the RKC. When I got this, I realized that we are 3 weeks away from it. Already, I've been in contact with Sandy who is also going, and I have a lot of hope for a great long weekend. I have a lot of hope for being a part of a team again.

Here are a few of the pics from that weekend in January...

TODAY'S WORKOUT: Still on the original program. Will switch tomorrow.

6 sets of...
Double 12kg squat 30sec
Double 12kg C&P 30 sec
rest

3 12kg snatch ladders 10/10, 15/15, 20/20. I didn't quite blast through this like I did last time, but it felt okay. I've noticed a little less wind here lately, feeling like my breathing pattern isn't quite right, like I can't get a good deep breath at times. I often feel it when I drink too much water, and it doesn't seem to be associated with palpitations which have to be a consideration in light of the Wolff-Parkinson-White. I think it's mostly my pattern being off. Will keep an eye on it.