The Memory Mile

Yesterday’s bombings at the Boston Marathon really got to me for a few reasons. First there was the obvious: an act of terrorism that hurt and killed innocent people. Then there was its location…Boston is a city that is close to my heart because it is where I met my husband. Then I thought about where specifically it happened – a race. Now road races are not my thing but as a runner, I can certainly identify with the participants. And watching the news last night and this morning, a somewhat selfish thought crossed my mind: thank goodness it was only my house that I lost last year.

So when our fellow Honey Badger Kim came down for our lunchtime workout with a ‘Runners United to Remember’ sign to strap to my backpack for today’s memory mile, I smiled. The idea of running specifically to honor yesterday’s victims was just perfect, and now I had a great accessory to complement the workout.

We ran one mile on the beach with weight strapped to us. I had 18 pounds. The sand would make the workout tough enough; I didn’t think there was any way I’d complete the full mile with my backpack on. I guesstimated a quarter mile before the pack would come off. But instead of thinking about how much the sand and weight sucked, I thought about how lucky I am and I suppose that’s what pushed me through it. Because slowly but surely about 16 ½ minutes later, I completed my memory mile, having trotted the entire way…with all 18 pounds in tow.

I was really happy to be wrong. And I knew at the finish line.

The Citi Field Spartan Sprint

If you don’t know how to do a hand release push-up, look at the girl in the green tutu because she is killing it.

That’s how I will always remember the CitiField Spartan Sprint.

The first time I did a Spartan Race I lost my confidence within the first ten minutes. The second time was right after Sandy and my head and heart weren’t in it. I really wanted this time to be different. This time I promised myself that when things got tough I wouldn’t give in or feel weak. I would remind myself of the words that had been staring me in the face every day: the voice inside your head that says you can’t do this is a liar. Today the only one who would be there to push me was me.

So I set some goals for myself:

1. To finish in 1 hour and 20 minutes or less
2. To get across the traverse wall without falling
3. To not be last

I had my moments of weakness – failed the weight pulley – an obstacle that I had managed to complete at last year’s Super. I think I stopped two or three times during the water carry. I can’t climb a rope, row 500 meters in two minutes or do monkey bars.

What I did do is weave around people instead of trailing behind. I didn’t need a boost over all the high walls like I would’ve in the past but wasn’t afraid to ask for help when I got to the ones that were too big for me…and I asked without hesitation. I didn’t walk when there was an opportunity to run. I cheered on strangers on the course. Words of encouragement are important.

In the end, here’s what happened:

1. I finished in 1 hour and 3 minutes
2. I got across the traverse wall without falling (self disclaimer: I cheated a little)
3. I came in third

So who cares that I can’t climb a rope? Maybe one day I will be able to – and I intend to work on it – but if I can’t, I won’t be put down by it. Everyone has their limitations. And if I have to chose from strength or endurance, I chose the later.

Today I surprised myself. And I knew at the finish line.

Not Last

I am used to being last. Last one picked in gym class growing up and last one to finish our races. Last one to finish the WODs that are timed. I really hate it, especially knowing how hard I am working.

Here’s the routine: I get myself psyched up, in the moment I give in and don’t care as much about my performance, and then finish up disappointed with myself after the fact. I have got to get past that. I have to either stop caring about being last or not give in when things get too hard.

Well today I got past it at CrossFit. Today I did not let a challenge get the best of me. Today I was not last.

Will I be last again? Yeah, probably. But I won’t let it be because I gave in.

And I knew at the finish line.

My Worst Enemy

I am too hard on myself. I think it. I write it. I say it. And yet I don’t know how to change it.

Case in point: yesterday.

I went running with two new girls and our team captain. We were doing a two mile flat run…easy. I was psyched to get out there and be amongst people I could keep up with, if not beat. I felt pretty confident.

It was an easy route but an ugly run. I started up front but eventually trailed behind and finished last. I couldn’t help but wonder if this was my wake up call telling me that I’m not as strong as I think I am and to lower my expectations for my first race next weekend. I don’t know why I am on such a mission to beat people when I should just be competing against my stopwatch but I can’t help it.

Our captain – who is not one to sugarcoat – even reminded me how hard our last two workouts were and how I am running today on tired legs. But I look at it as an excuse…even though I know it makes complete sense.

My confidence has gone down the drain and I am thinking that I should just accept the fact that I’m probably going to come in last on my team next weekend. Because yesterday it seemed that I have to work twice as hard to be half as good.

And I knew at the finish line.

Capital Heights: My Mini Goal (That’s Not So Mini…)

Today I ran halfway up Capital Heights. By September I hope to run straight through to the top. Six months to go.

And I’ll know at the finish line.

Hot Workout, Cool Day

I ran all the way up Anstice hill for the first time a little over 8 months ago. That was the day I started training specifically for my first Spartan Race. I was really proud of that accomplishment. And about a month later, my teammate and I sprinted together as long as possible up that hill, breaking when we needed it. That time I had 10 pounds on my back. I remember feeling like that hill had gotten shorter.

No Robyn, You got stronger.

That’s the response she gave me that day. I guess it had been obvious to her, but I was oblivious. That was last August. Now I don’t need her to tell me what I already know: my strength is improving some more and my endurance is up.

Today we ran up that same hill about 75% of the way, to the stop sign that was once my breaking point, then walked the rest of the way up. But there was a big difference this time…I was carrying 18 pounds on my back and the hill was part of a 2.4+ mile route. I’ve never run with that much weight to begin with, let alone up, down and around several hills. I took my own advice and when I thought I hit my limit, pushed myself a little more, a little further and when the workout ended it dawned on me…having the ability to recognize self improvement is pretty damn cool. So I’m not there yet, but I’m definitely closer than I was yesterday.

And I knew at the finish line.

The Obstacles In My Head

There are two constant internal battles for me when it comes to fitness. Firstly, choosing between CrossFit and Hot Yoga. Here’s the problem: I know that CrossFit will be more beneficial for race training but I am drawn to Hot Yoga. Finding a balance that I am happy with is challenging. The other problem is that no matter which one I choose, I am rarely happy with my performance. At CrossFit it’s about how much weight I can lift and at yoga it’s how well I can hold the asanas. I am too hard on myself and I know it – what I don’t know is how to cut myself some slack. That’s why the toughest obstacle is in my head.

Today I chose Hot Yoga . This was going to be a very special class that I was really excited about because I was being taught by one of the first Hot Yoga teachers in the country. I was also nervous – worried that I wasn’t hydrated enough and would need to sit out for some of the postures and concerned that I’d fall out of the balancing postures too quickly. If it weren’t for the new working relationship I have with this teacher it wouldn’t have mattered as much to me.

It wasn’t my strongest class, but it certainly wasn’t one of my weaker ones. And this teacher was one of the best that I have ever had. She made corrections when I needed them and praised me when my form was good.

You have a decent practice. I don’t know what you’re talking about that it’s weak.

Wow. Coming from this instructor it meant a lot. This is a tell-it-like-it-is teacher, not one to sugar coat everything. So I will take those words with me. I’m pretty sure that I’ll still be hard on myself the next time I walk out of a hot room, but I will be easier on myself than I was before. Because if a 20-plus year Hot Yoga veteran – who could’ve said nothing at all – told me I have a decent practice, then who am I to think otherwise? Maybe it’s time I give myself a little credit.

And I knew at the finish line.