The Joy of the Ever-Expanding Tribe

Even those of you who have just recently met me, or who even briefly glanced at my social media, have likely noticed the word "tribe" pop up frequently. I say it/write it/hashtag it often in reference to my people - other women who are athletic, strong, independent. I am a huge advocate of empowering women. That's not even close to being a secret. So why bother writing about it? Because aspects of it have been heavy on my mind lately.

Let me begin by sharing something I wrote as a caption to a photo quote from the Cookie Monster. This was posted to Facebook on Dec 1, 2014:

I had been conditioned over the years - by bad experiences, life, society, shitty human beings - to be inherently wary of other women. They were competition, the enemy, always out to hurt me with ulterior motives. They were not to be trusted and would stab me in the back the minute I turned.

Thankfully, this past year has been a lesson in just the opposite. I have found myself surrounded by a growing group of amazing women. Strong women, in every sense of the word. Like-minded women who are confident, funny, sarcastic, intelligent, unfailingly kind, and a level of supportive of each other (and me) that I have never seen. I am grateful to a point that is impossible to express in mere words. 

The Cookie Monster keeps it simple (as with all the good and true things in life)....and I concur. So, ladies, I want you to know...I would happily share my very last Oreo with any one of you.

I can add, over a year later, that this feeling continues...and has grown tenfold. But lets back up a little first. 

We moved around a lot when I was a kid. Three times during my middle school years alone. It is what it is...life happens and there are plenty of reasons that these were necessary moves. But this led to going to 3 different schools from the beginning of 5th grade to the end of 7th grade. I was an incredibly awkward kid....all gangly limbs, a mass of curly blonde hair, and the kind of crooked teeth that happen when nature blesses you with entirely too many molars for your mouth. I was a bright kid who loved to read and excelled in school. I played violin. I was the eldest child of a single mother who did her absolute damnedest to make sure that we had everything we needed, which means I did plenty of after-school babysitting of my younger siblings.

I wasn't anyone in particular in high school. If I were in a movie, I'd have been credited at the end as High School Student #12. I continued to play in the orchestra, I took Spanish for years, I was in AP classes and NHS and I wrote short stories at a furious pace more nights than not. I had a core group of friends, with a few extras coming and going with each passing year. Every year, we played the group up game....with 3 of us becoming "bffs". And we all know how teenage hierarchies work. Three girls together often means that there are 2 close friends holding a third at arms length at any given time. The pairing shifts with no rhyme or reason. And at some point...you get to be the odd man out. That hurts like a bitch. But that's how many of us learn, as girls and young women, that female friendships go. There's backhanded and passive aggressive bullshit galore. We learn to jump into cliques, to group up, to not trust outsiders. It's a wildly immature way to approach relationships. Fortunately, many of us outgrow this. To some degree. I had a few very close friends through most of my twenties. Save for one friend - who has been a bestie since high school and continues to be one of the few people in this world I would drop everything for at a moment's notice - those friendships have waxed and waned through all of life's changes.

Strength sports were the catalyst for a massive shift in how I relate to other women. First through Crossfit, then through Strongman, I met some amazing women. They were all strong, funny, sarcastic, kindred spirits. No games, no cliques, no bullshit. I had to reconsider my concepts of confidence and support and connections to other women. 

My tribe is comprised of women who lift heavy things. Women who give 100% in training. Women who put as much energy into supporting the other competitors as they do into their own performance. Women who can laugh at themselves. Women who aren't afraid to fail. Women who understand that winning isn't everything and there is no such thing as perfection. Women who are beautiful because they give of themselves and their time and their knowledge freely, without hesitation. These are the people I am drawn to. You don't need a title, an impressive competition record, or even big PRs. You only need to have that spark, that kindness...and actions, my friends, speak far louder than words.

Yes, I have a very core group of women who are my inner circle. They are the ones I commiserate with, joke with, share life experiences with. I hold my personal life tightly, because it is mine and no one else's business. They are the trusted few who know the ins and outs of "Bee"....who share theirs with me. 

But I don't restrict myself to just this core group. If you show up to train at my gym, I will cheer you on. I will give feedback if asked. I will take the time to demonstrate new movements and watch your form and probably crack a joke or two. I will match you in excitement when you PR, when I pile plates on an implement and you move far more weight that you imagined you could, when you finally pick up that sandbag or atlas stone. And if I see you reflect this same excitement toward others....if you're open to trying new things and willing to fail and supportive of those around you.....you're in. You are now part of the tribe. 

This means my tribe continues to expand. At competitions, I support the girls I already know. But I also make a point to say hello, strike up conversation, and cheer on the other competitors. Half the fun at nationals this year was meeting so many awesome new women from near and far. While it's a competition....we all need to keep a couple things in mind: 1) I am going to do as well as my training and preparation allows - Someone else's good or bad day at a contest is not my business. I cannot control it. All I can do is focus on my own effort and performance. Though it is a contest, it's really a competition for myself. Can I continue to improve? Will I go heavier/faster/farther? That's what matters. 2) IT'S AMATEUR STRONGMAN. I mean, truly. I love the sport. I hope to do it for a very long time. But I am not a pro. You are not a pro. We are small peanuts. Strong peanuts...but small ones, nonetheless. 3) There are very few things in life worth being uptight about. This is not one of them. 

There are many women I look up to in this sport. They are impressive athletes and wonderful human beings. And I am not shy about telling them so. One woman in particular knows that she is my "rabbit"...a term borrowed from my running days. She always moves just a little faster and lifts just a little heavier than me. She motivates me to train harder, to push myself. And, unlike the immature view of the past, I have absolutely nothing bad to say about her. I consider her a friend...family, really. I love competing with her because we have fun. I am pumped for her when she wins because she truly deserves it. She is a dedicated athlete and trains hard. She has also sat on the floor with me after a competition when I was in tears, beating myself up for a mistake I made during an event. She has loaned me knee sleeves during a contest. She has invited me repeatedly to train with her.

I have little respect for athletes who aren't like this. Athletes who are mean, back-biting, passive aggressive shit talkers. Athletes who cannot shake a competitor's hand. Athletes who don't cheer on, console, or congratulate others. Athletes who make excuses and minimize others' accomplishments. Because, frankly, I don't care what you can lift. I don't care if you're a pro. I don't care how many people think you're a role model. If your character does not hold up....what's the point? We all peak. And then we decline. No one is on top forever. No one can keep up the PRs and the records and the podium spots. But trust me, if you're a shitty human being, other people will remember that. 

You know what? I just plain don't respect humans who are like this. Forget just "athletes". All humans. Be kind. Be decent. Be compassionate. Don't be an asshole. One day, you just might need that support you've refused others. How would you want to be treated? How would you want your loved ones to be treated?

And so, my tribe....let's carry it all forward. Ignite that spark, fan the flames, and pass that fire along.

Strongwoman: Deadlifts and Carries and Stones, Oh My!

How do you sum up one of the most amazing days ever? I'm not sure I'm even capable of doing so effectively...but let's try. Here's my recap of Jul Valkyrie, the women's only Strongman contest that was held on December 12, 2015 at Detroit Tough. Orchestrated by Yours Truly.

This whole contest came from some harebrained idea that went "Oh, I could do that, that would be fun" after a conversation with a couple friends. I imagined a little contest, maybe 20 competitors, but we'd get sanctioned and make it a fun day. Somehow......it blew up into twice that number. I know there are bigger contests out there, but remember that we're talking about a competition in Michigan in December. Which meant we were stuck indoors. And as much as I adore my gym....it's not exactly big enough for a massive crowd and lots of heavy things moving at the same time. After a brief panic, I realized we'd be able to squeeze on in and be just fine, as long as I made the sure the events flowed back and forth between the upper and lower levels.

The support from Willie and Barkley coming into this was even more than I hoped for. They both not only answered my random questions, they regularly called and texted just to check in. Willie's decision to make Valkyrie a qualifier for the Women's Pro Championship was icing on the cake. Planning a show is interesting. There's a lot of things to do right at the beginning...then there's a lot of waiting around, collecting registrations...then the last two weeks hit. And you run like a maniac. Goodbye sleep.

Somehow, I made it to Friday. The majority of the competitors took advantage of 24 hour weigh ins, so I got to see a lot of the girls early on. Many of them made weight on the first try. A very determined few missed on their first shot....went to sweat it out for a while...just to come back and nail it. I learned I'm a softy; my inner competitor knows the feeling and wanted to let them slide. But every one of them had a great attitude about it and, in the end, every woman ended up in the weight class she planned for. Friday night we did a little prep to the gym, clearing out extra equipment and getting ready for the next morning. I was so wiped out, I barely kept my eyes open to shovel food in before dropping into bed.

Before I knew it, the alarm was going off on Saturday morning. Admittedly, I had startled awake several times during the night, convinced I had missed the alarm and was going to be late to weigh ins. One might say I was a bit anxious. We got to the gym in time to meet up with Jon, who was delivering the shirts. I thought they turned out pretty damn nice. Paul stepped up to run check in/shirts for the competitors and to collect the spectator donation (bless his heart), and Andrea managed the USS memberships. Mary assisted with the final few weigh ins, while I tied up some last minute details. I was reminded of what wonderful friends I have, as several more stepped up to help with weights and event setup, keeping us running smoothly all day long. Mary and Jessie kept scores recorded and got them to Crystal, who tracked the entire contest with no hiccups. The gym filled up quickly with competitors, and it was time for rules before I knew it. 

We ran two platforms for 18" deadlift. The event flew by, and I hardly knew where to look to keep up with all of the lifts. It became a game of "turn and cheer and turn and cheer and turn and cheer" until I thought my voice might be gone already. These ladies pulled some incredibly impressive weight. Weighing in for the 123 class, Erin Janowicz pulled a whopping 405 - that's over 3x her bodyweight! Watching Rachael Thatcher effortlessly pull 505 was a thing of beauty. She's a continuously impressive athlete...as well as a fantastic human being. I've watched her compete in the past, and she sets the bar for sportsmanship every single time. She is a serious competitor when it's go time, but in between you can see her chatting with the other ladies, giving tips and advice, and joking around.

Conan's wheel came up next. Every woman visibly put in max effort on this event, whether they were practically sprinting or doggedly putting one foot in front of the other. Willie and I had a good laugh at the way the cheering would follow the woman on the Conan's in a wave around the circle, from the competitors to the judges to the spectators and around again. 

Viking press followed. Some of the ladies repped out their weight like it was nothing. The overhead game in that gym was strong. There's not much more to say about this one. For going one at a time, this event seemed to be done before I knew it. Probably because I was busy running back and forth to get the carry medley set up.

Everyone moved to the upper level for the carry medley. Each division had 4 objects of varying weight, to be carried down 30' then run back up and over the line before grabbing the next. This had been a little....controversial....when it was posted. The weights were heavy and 4 objects is a lot to move in under 60 seconds. However, after running through it myself with the LW open objects, I determined it could, in fact, be done. Especially since the weight for the loadable husafell ended up dropping drastically. Many of the women got through 3 objects, some nearly finished with the fourth. But a handful completed the entire medley. See?! Told you it could be done! Christina Bangma finished it the fastest of any of the competitors, with 4 whole seconds to spare. I can attest, by the time you reach the last object, you end up damn near puke point. Every person who finished it should have gotten an award for that alone. An alarming number of people ended up body slamming the kegs, and I thought for sure one of the kegs would explode before the event was done for the sheer number of times they were slammed down. Thankfully, everything held together just fine. And so did all of the women, though some gained a few minor battle wounds.

Final event was stone over bar for reps. This was the most impressive display, after the deadlifts, as we were able to run three lanes at a time. These woman could move stones!! Someone even swore they saw Elizabeth Carpenter slam dunk the 175 one handed. The stones are fickle, and I personally have a love-hate relationship with the things. Some days they cooperate beautifully, and some days they fight back. No matter whether they got 0 or 10+, every single woman put 100% effort into moving those stones. It was beautiful. Badass award of the day goes to Grace Larned - she was running strong all day in the novice <148 class. When she got to stones, she tossed the first one over the bar...then the second...and slammed it right down onto her toe. Unfazed, she continued to rep something like 9 more in her 60 seconds. She later received a diagnosis of a hairline fracture and several stitches as an additional award for her badassery. 

We had some great sponsors, as well as some beautiful handmade necklaces for awards. The 2nd and 3rd place finishers in every division received a necklace and a gift certificate from Ladies Lift Here. First place finishers received a mini sword (Novices) or valkyrie battle axe (Open), a pair of socks from The Sox Box, a gift certificate from Ladies Lift Here, a shirt and protein from Nxt Level Labs, and a necklace. Each 1st place novice qualified for Nationals 2016. The top 3 Open finishers not only qualified for Nationals, but also for the Pro Woman's Worlds in October 2016. 

Becky from Tri-Covery came in and helped keep all the bodies tuned up throughout the day. Every one of the women was amazing to watch throughout the day. Our novice classes made up half the competitor list. I'm so impressed that so many ladies were willing to face the unknown and try out a competition. And, as always, I am equally impressed by the effort of our seasoned competitors. I cannot accurately describe to you the feeling in the gym yesterday. Everyone cheered for everyone else. Experienced women not only encouraged the novices, they willingly shared advice and welcomed them into the sport. The air buzzed with all of the excitement.

Overall....I'm going to call it a success. It's a very interesting experience being on this side of a contest. While I make a habit of thanking every promoter for shows that I compete in....I feel like I need to go back and send them gift baskets and hugs. This is not for the faint of heart! Holy cow. But it was so much fun, stress and all. 

We raised $1,800 for a Detroit domestic violence shelter, between registrations and spectator donations. I'll be posting an update on Facebook after I talk with them tomorrow. I'd like to get the money to them this week, so hopefully it'll be especially helpful coming up on Christmas and the new year. My nice new friend Mike with Attack Hunger - a Detroit-based charity that raises money for 4 different programs that help at-risk women and children in the city - pointed me in this shelter's direction. If you're looking for a great cause to support, check out Attack Hunger.

So what now? Now I start a new program cycle and train toward my next contest as a competitor. And, after I catch up on sleep, I'll start planning for the July iteration of Valkyrie. So stay tuned, because we'll do it all again July 2016. 

Sometimes I talk Strongman...

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hlgzo1fAsFY&feature=youtu.be

I did that. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go stop sweating from so much focused attention.

Adventures and such...

Let's do the damn thing.

Teeny, tiny, shrunken baby Tank is back to it. Time to get back into the groove. Had a conversation with my coach tonight and committed to starting a training program again next week.

Some things have to change. I've got to hold myself accountable to it all....consistent training, eating like a damn athlete again, keeping my head in the game. Work be damned. It's getting better...I can now get myself to the gym. I'm not utterly exhausted. Though I've been fighting off migraines and some mystery illness this week, I'm on the upswing. It's time to start making moves.

So next week we begin again. I've got goals and plenty of room to grow.

In the meantime....only a couple details left to wrap up for Valkyrie this weekend. I am absolutely beside myself with excitement. Not to mention slightly overwhelmed at all of the support that's poured in to help make this event happen. It's a rush to see things come together and click into place. I am so ready for Saturday (even if the competitors would like to enjoy their deload week a liiiiiittle longer), I don't know how I'll even sleep on Friday night. Just waiting on shirts and have a couple of odd things here and there to snag. If I'm lucky, I'll even manage to sneak in a little training session during the day on Friday while hanging out at the gym for weigh ins. Perhaps in one of my little time gaps.

And in other exciting news....I've been asked to do an interview tomorrow. Live. On the internets (shut up, boys, I can hear the smart ass comments from here). This very cool project called Women Empower Active through UR Sportswear does live interviews on YouTube with active women to tell their stories and talk about their active adventures. And somehow I ended up on their radar and was asked to participate. So if you want to watch me ramble on about how awesome Strongman is and be extra, extra awkward, I'll post the link on my Facebook and Instagram. Folks can even comment questions on those posts for them to pick from for part of the interview.

Big things, my friends. Life is an adventure and these next few weeks promise to hold plenty of challenges. Stay tuned.

Do what you must

I don't even have words for life over the past week and a half. I am just...exhausted.

One of my staff members had a complete and utter meltdown. It took over a week for it to fully boil over and resolve. And every day I felt like I got hit by a train. I deal with human emotion and distress on a daily basis. My days are patchworks of depression and tears and anxiety and hopelessness and fear and worry. My job is to handle the crises...in order to keep the department running smoothly, I am the go-to person for my staff when there is an angry parent, a frustrated guardian, or a panicking child to soothe. I am the "fixer" when things go wrong....or when people just are too emotional to be rational. And I am equipped to handle that. Sure, some days are draining and I need to just recharge afterward. But overall, most days which would lay a "normal" person out flat are just par for the course for me. Not because I'm superhuman....but merely because of extensive training and experience in the field. A good portion of the conversations I have every day with colleagues would be, at best, odd and, at worst, disturbing or traumatizing to many. But to have someone who is supposed to be equipped to handle most of these things have a complete meltdown....to have them spiraling out of control and creating a toxic environment for the other staff and even the patients....that is exhausting. Having someone with their own mental health issues not managing them is scary. There's no stability and you spend every hour wondering what's next. It took a lot of support for me to weather that particular storm. And I am eternally grateful for my amazing support system.

As a result, that person is no longer employed with us. And that means I am even more short-staffed. So I am shouldering the extra work to help keep everything afloat and to try to minimize the stress and potential burn out of my other social workers. This means even longer hours. Which means even less free time. Or even recovery time. Last night, I worked until 7, stopped for food on my way home, ate, then passed out on my couch by 8:30. I dragged myself to bed at 9 and I was out for the night. A 10 hour day is a "short day". I had to cancel my appointment with my private practice client because I knew I would not make it out of work on time. It won't last forever. But holy hell...I'm so over it.

I want to be in the gym. I've got the motivation, finally. But then I'm mentally exhausted. And physically. There aren't enough hours in the day. And even if there were, they would just fill up with more work.

But for now, I can plan. I know my next steps. I just have to get my new staff trained and started in a couple of weeks. And then my time is my own again. And I will be able to breathe a little. And get back to training. I cannot wait. I am itching to move and lift and sweat.

In the meantime, what little time I have is dedicated to finalizing the details for Valkyrie. Prizes have arrived. Now I just need to order shirts. And then we wait....wait for the registrations to finish coming in and wait for the day to arrive. I am so excited. This event has grown and taken on a life of its own. No matter what I have going on, one message, or piece of mail, or email related to Valkyrie just makes me smile. I truly love organizing this. I cannot wait to see everyone in one place. I love this sport.

So here I am. Just hunkered down and doing what needs to be done. Because sometimes that's life.

Cultivating Gratitude

What are you grateful for?

I don't mean the standard "oh yes, I have a roof over my head and food in my stomach" kind of grateful. Of course those are wonderful things. And, of course, I know that not everyone has those. But if you stop and think right this moment about what brings you absolute joy...what makes you giddy happy....what would those things be? They shift and change over time, but right now, I've got a few things. And I'm trying to keep these in the forefront of my mind when I get stressed out or anxious.

Jul Valkyrie is one of those things. I am absolutely floored every time I get an entry, look at the list, and realize how many women are coming to compete in this thing. Each time a new piece to the planning comes together, I get a little rush. Having an idea start to become tangible...it's amazing. The immense support from so many people, especially the contingent of seasoned strongmen...talk about grateful. I don't even have words for how it feels to know so many have your back and will make an effort to help just for the sake of helping. This community is beautiful.

Along with that goes watching the group that has been diligently training at Tough for this competition. These women have all grown in leaps and bounds. Seeing them progress, the pride on their faces when they lift something heavier or move something faster, hearing the confidence emerge in their voices when they talk about lifting...yes. That's it, man.

Lifting again, just for the pleasure of it. My little atlas stone finally made its way home this week. I immediately proceeded to practice some stone-to-shoulders and carry it around. I did some tire flips, just because I can. And this week, I'll go do some squats and deads and whatever else tickles my fancy. Taking the pressure off to be competing or working toward some set goal right at this moment has made a world of difference. I want to be in the gym again.

Writing. I've been making a slow return to my favorite creative endeavor. I always wished that I was a visually creative person. I really admire artists who create beautiful things with paper and pencil and paint and clay and any other medium that goes from blank or non-existent to a tangible thing. And by beautiful, I don't mean something pretty to look at. I mean art that makes you feel something, whether it's hyper-realistic or bizarre or surreal. That goes for those inclined to make art of the audible kind. Musicians are amazing. I've played instruments, though never anything completely mastered. I always wanted to learn to play by ear (I was a classically trained violinist who can still sight-read sheet music but can't listen and repeat back a damn thing on violin). My brother can play any damn instrument put in front of him. Music has always been a core part of life...I grew up in a house full of music and developed a strong love of many genres. But to express myself through it? Not my forte. Words have always been my art. I love words. My other major in college was linguistics, and I regularly nerd out and read books on the topic. I love grammar and syntax and phonetics. I love novels and poetry...dark, deep topics and light playful memoirs and love poems. There are times I feel overwhelmed with a need to write. About many things. I have piles of short stories. Journals and notebooks full of random bits and pieces. At any given time, a couple of plots and characters are running around in my brain. I've been making time to sit and write, even if it comes out to be a random addition to my journal. It feels so good to do.

The people in my life....that is what I am most grateful for. I have the most amazing, creative, fun, kind, sarcastic, weird, supportive people ever around me. The folks who I consider "my people"...that small circle of trusted humans has been the secret weapon against all of the anxiety and struggle. And my someone is one human I'm especially thankful for. He makes me laugh, lets me vent, adds an extra dimension of weirdness that my life would otherwise be without. I am so very thankful for that. He doesn't bat an eye when I ask to ship battle axes to his house, encourages all of my endeavors (even if he doesn't quite understand all of it), is the voice of reason when I get all hot-headed about situations at work, and willingly dives into adventures with me. And he'd get all bashful and pink in the face if he read this - just like he does when I tell him he's my favorite human. I rarely talk about my personal life in much detail, because it is just that: personal. It's mine to have without the world needing to know a damn thing about it. But if I'm being really honest about this topic, then it should be mentioned. Because it's truly the thing at the top of my gratitude list. Even if the superstitious part of my brain screams "don't talk about it or you'll jinx it!".

So this is where I am these days. It's beautiful.

It's a beautiful week, my friends.

I'm two for two!!!

Yesterday, I got my arse to the gym, even though I didn't leave work as early as I had hoped. Worked on some overheads with the barbell....I usually do those with axle or log these days, so it was nice to switch it up and work on something I hadn't in a long time. Then I decided to try out sumo deads. Ouch. Ouch ouch ouch. My hips are weak, man. And that's a good thing - lots of room to work and improve. I've only pulled sumo a few times before, so it was nice to get some tips from a gym buddy who is much more experienced in them. I had to get my head out of it; time to stop worrying about the ego and the numbers. I know I can pull heavier weight. But I'm not going to sacrifice learning the movement properly for the sake of saying "oh yea, I can pull this much".

Then, tonight - after meeting with my client - I got to the climbing gym. And I actually climbed. And did some challenging stuff. And did a little drill work. WHAT. As with everything else, I've got miles and miles to go with my climbing skills/technique. But damn does it make me happy.

I've been practicing the art of not hanging on to the negative things. I have to say, I'm noticing an overall change in my mood and feelings about life. Things no longer feel like they are just piling on. A rough day is just that - rough. Not life-ending. Not panic-inducing. Just a bump in the road. Take it as it comes, do what I can do to deal with it, be kind to myself if I need the down time to recover a little more. Some days it's a fight not to get drawn into others' negative thinking and let it slide me right back down into that pit. I wish I could pinpoint what exactly changed that's allowing me to do that. But I can't. It just...shifted.

Maybe it's helped to stay focused on all of the good things. The little bits and pieces that make up such a good life. And I don't mean the usual "Well, it could be worse. At least I have food and a house". Yes...duh. There's always someone worse off. But that doesn't negate feeling shitty or like you're struggling. And, I'm sorry folks, but this isn't the damn Terrible Life Olympics. Depression, anxiety, stress....they feel equally as stifling. Telling people that "some people don't have it as good as you" is a PC way of minimizing them telling you "I don't feel right. I feel overwhelmed/stress/sad and can't get out from under it". If someone is telling you that they feel they are struggling, here's what you do: SUPPORT THEM.

Be kind. Listen to them. Do what we therapist-type folks call "validating feelings". It's such a small act, but it makes such an impact. There was a conversation I had with a friend months ago that still sticks out in my head. And she probably doesn't even remember or realize what it meant to me. I called her and vented about my day. I mean full on ranted and raved and yelled in my car over the phone line about my terrible day and my awful boss and every single injustice I felt had been heaped upon me for the past several hours. And she just listened. And when I finished, she paused a second, then just said "I'm sorry you had a bad day". I suddenly became a toddler on the phone, the tears hit me and I probably just blubbered something that sounded like gibberish. But it was that simple acknowledgement...no advice, no rationalizing...just someone saying "Yes. That is shitty. You are having a terrible day. And I'm sorry to hear that". And that's all I needed. Then she cracked a joke and I laughed and we continued talking. Sometimes ya just need someone to let you know that they have heard you - that they get it.

It's much easier to keep an eye on the positive things when you have supports like that. All the good little things start adding up. And instead of feeling buried, you feel lifted, buoyed by the feeling of contentment and thankfulness for those things.

So tomorrow, I challenge you to take some time to pay attention to the folks in your life. Check in, see how they are doing. Let them know you're there as support. And if you see someone who is struggling - either ongoing heavy struggle or just one of those bad days that happen to all of us - do something nice for them. Something as small as stopping for a conversation and a smile, or giving of your time to grab some coffee with them, or even leaving them a nice little note or performing a random act of kindness for a stranger you see having a difficult day. It's worth the extra few minutes, I promise.

Strongman Buffet

Tonight felt good. Effortlessly good.

For the first time in over a month, I finally made it out of work on time. Thursdays are usually an early out day, so I can train before Strongman class. That hasn't been happening. Usually I squeak into the gym just before class, and one week I didn't make it at all. But today....work cooperated.

I walked into the gym without a plan. No idea what I was going to do, no numbers, no program. Decided to just do whatever felt right. So I ended up with the "strongman buffet", or: a little of everything.

First up, axle continental cleans and overheads. Worked up to nearly my one rep max. Having so much down time seems to have made the cleans easier, more tolerable. I could feel the limits of my press, especially in my left arm. But pushing that final weight overhead and locking it out? Now we're off and running. After grinding out the last rep, I decided to stop there and not push to failure. Plus my stomach was beautifully bruised up from my belt already. So I moved on to some log clean and presses, just to finish off those pressing muscles. 

Then I got the group going on 18" deads. Decided to jump into the rotation for fun and worked my way up until it felt tough. Let it lie after it felt like maybe my arse was going to fall off. Felt so good to just focus. That brief moment, after snapping my belt shut and before putting hands to the bar.....that moment of calm, taking in a breath, clearing my mind, narrowing my whole world down to that single action....that's the kind of Zen I've been seeking.

Ran the yoke, taking time to coach each woman in class through her run. My runs topped out at a still light weight, while taking the time to work on speed and technique. Once everyone had a feel for yoke, we were running short on time and moved to stones to at least walk through technique and work on lapping them. Since my 95# stone is currently not at the gym, and the 120 has been taken home, the lightest available was 150. A few of the girls were able to get it lapped, while a couple others worked with the smaller, broke 85 just to see how it felt. I chucked 150 over a couple of times. That bite, the hint of stone rash, the familiar pop up my spine as I extended back and shoved the stone over the bar.....ahhhh yes. That's the stuff.

So, at the end of night, here's the "damage": exhausted posterior chain, vague tightness when standing up, stone rash on the forearms, bruises on knees from deads, scrapes and bruises on both quads from the stone, a line of gorgeous bruising across the midsection from the axle.....and one happy, very contented soul. 

No counting reps, no tracking weights, no worrying about what I "should" do or what I "used to be able to" do. Just lifting and moving and enjoying every bit of it. The time will come when I'll be ready for structure again, for concentrated building. But for now....this is the need. This is home.

Change is coming.

Something shifted today.

I am so tired of feeling this way. Of being exhausted. Of beating myself up over it all. Of trying to fit myself into some sort of "ideal" box. Whatever it is I think I need to be doing....

I let it go.

Not in an annoying, Frozen kind of way. But now I bet that stupid song is stuck in your head. You're welcome. But seriously....I am extraordinarily type A. An overachiever who has never figured out how not to hold myself to a nearly impossible standard. You can imagine how this might lead to quite a bit of anxiety and stress, eh? In many ways, this trait has served me well. It helped drive me through schooling, a career, and all of the crazy athletic endeavors I've gotten into my mind to do. I'm passionate and do everything 100% full force....and I want to make sure that if I do it, I do it well.

The problem comes when this overachieving, passionate, single-minded motivation goes into overdrive. It's probably why I shied away from competitive sports for so long. I tormented myself over getting good grades....not just "good", but straight As....and that was enough to focus on. I ran from middle school on up, but always on my own, never for a team. When I started racing, I never looked at it as competitive with other people. I was not about to win a marathon...my only drive was to beat myself, to go faster or further. And I loved it. Until it started feeling like work. That beautiful inner engine went into overdrive and pushed me right into that damn self-created box.

I realized that this is what I've done to myself for Strongman lately. I've lost sight of why I started doing it. I forgot about the sweltering summer days spent pouring sweat as I piled weight onto a yoke. Or those evenings I stood off in a corner of the gym, skin rubbed raw across my arms and chest, doing battle with a 145 stone. And the sheer elation of breaking 200 on my dead and repping body-weight back squats. Brutal. And so fucking fun. It wasn't only the numbers...though watching them go up was great. But it was the challenge of pushing my limits. The sheer full-force effort and contented exhaustion afterward. And for what end? The pure sake of doing it.

I've found a piece of that in organizing this Strongwoman event in December. It's a lot, but it never feels like a stressor. Focusing on the details and bringing all of the pieces together is the fun part of my day. Getting to talk with seasoned promoters and hear their experiences and advice is priceless. It's brought up that spark of why I love the sport so much. Getting to bring together all of these amazing women, both new and established competitors...that's an honor beyond belief. Seeing what the event is becoming, all of the opportunities it's presenting for those involved, I just....I love it. Full stop.

So this will be my focus for the rest of the year. Instead of competing myself, this will be the competition of focus. Who knows what will follow. I may end up competing and going for Nationals next summer. I may take a year off and focus on putting on the next comp. The point is....I don't have to decide right now. Right now I just work on fanning that flame. What does that mean? I do the things that bring back that joy. I lift for fun and run strongman events until I'm a sweaty mess sprawled on the floor. I go rock climbing and work routes til I have T-rex arms. I go for hikes and do yoga and just move. Move for the sake of reconnecting with my body. I've gotten so used to pushing through high-volume workouts when I'm spent, exhausted, checked out.....it's become easy to do. Easy to disconnect my mind from my body and just do - without being present...without truly experiencing the moment. Time to change that.

Now that the Overachiever Box has been dismantled, I can breathe. Finally.

Vulnerability is Necessary

I can't sleep.

Mostly because my body clock has gone haywire. I've already gotten a handful of hours of sleep this evening. But now here I am, wide awake. Things are about to get really honest. Why? Not for a pity party...not as an excuse for anything...but for the sake of being completely transparent, because I know other people out there may be struggling with something similar. And because I believe in honesty and owning my own shit.

I'm depressed. And anxious. 24/7. A lot of it has to do with my new job and feeling overwhelmed, but I was miserably stressed in my last job and it's probably just been a long time coming. There's not enough time in the day to get everything done; I've been working 50-60 hours a week since I started. I know some people work far more, but when you deal with acute mental health and a heaping dose of kids with trauma....it's exhausting. Sometimes you're mentally drained within a few hours of starting your day, depending on what you may have seen/heard/discussed in an assessment or family session. It's a taxing job. Don't get me wrong...I love what I do. You know how they ask people "If you won the lottery, would you still do what you do for a living?"...I would. Not exactly in this capacity, but I would still do therapy and would work with those in need and would continue to specialize in trauma. Because no matter how difficult it is to witness and hold space for these things, it's necessary. People need it. And if I have the ability to do so, I want to be whatever kind of support I can be to help someone better their own life.

But the toll has been immense. I'm barely making it to the gym....scraping together borrowed time to try to work out, because I know it's my own therapy, my own release. My coach has been incredibly understanding and supportive, giving me the space and encouragement to just do what I can. I cannot tell you how grateful I am for that. I'm already so busy beating myself up for not excelling at training right now, it's a relief to have a voice of reason in there. I want to go train....but I'm leaving work so drained and anxious that I can barely keep my eyes open to drive home. Some nights I get myself to the gym. I push through my programming with a head that feels stuffed with lead and a body that's half numbed out....because that little bit of relief after I've completed a workout is a little bit of happiness in my day.

"Self care" is a big buzz term in my field. It's vital. You can't give what you don't have. But at this moment, I cannot even attain this....my self care looks more like survival. Or at least that's how it feels. I drag myself home, stop for food, eat, and pass out on the couch. If I've left work early enough, like today, that means I'm asleep by 7:30. Other days, I'm out of work so late that by the time I eat, it's a normal bedtime....and then by the time I wind down enough to sleep, it's around midnight....if I'm lucky. This means minimal interaction with the world outside of work. I go to my private practice one evening a week. If I've got enough gas left in the tank, or if I manage to fight myself into running on fumes, I might meet up with a friend to go climbing afterward. Thursdays, I've been leaving work just in time to sit in traffic and get to Detroit in time to run class. Friday nights are shot....last Friday I slept from 7:30pm until the next morning around 8am. That leaves me with two days to get things done and try to relax. By Sunday afternoon, I'm dreading starting it all over again.

I've isolated myself. I barely talk to anyone and have dug myself a little hole to hide in because the sheer energy it takes to function right now leaves little to put into being a decent human being. Head down, dig in, gut it out.

It will get better. I gain new staff later this week. If the universe is kind, she'll be a good fit for the job and will take a huge burden off of everyone in my department who is over-worked and over-stressed right now - myself included. All I can do is wait it out. Survive until the weekends and try to recharge as much as possible. Try to keep a positive attitude and let go of what I cannot control during the week. Take note of the good things that do happen during the week and focus on those. It's not all dark and terrible....but life has lost its shine a little, like viewing it through a hazy window.

Again...why post this? Why bother? It's not a complaint. It's not a "woe is me, my life is so hard". It's just the facts of daily life right now. And someone else out there is beating themselves up because balance is hard. Balance isn't always possible every moment...sometimes the scale swings a little before you can even it out. And it's okay. It's okay to sometimes feel like shit. It's okay to prioritize and re-prioritize until you have a formula that gives you some peace in life. Some sense of accomplishment and the feeling that the difficult days are worth it. It's all just fine.....as long as you don't stay in the hole. You cannot live in the bunker and wallow. You have to sit with the discomfort and stress and disappointment for a while....and then things change - whether it just naturally shifts or you have to actively make choices to make something happen. But eventually....something has to give. My staff and I had a long talk today....they vented frustrations and stress, we agreed to work together to make some more changes for everyone's sake....and I realized that I have to do something different. I cannot effectively lead a department if I'm just as bogged down in the chaos as everyone else. Leading by example is actually a thing, not just a convenient little phrase.

I'm ready for the shift. Ready to get back to feeling like myself and enjoying life. Even on the hard days, it's beautiful.

Perhaps a flame...maybe mostly smoke...

I did stuff tonight. Just enough to get moving. It was a fight....and I wasn't exactly focused (thanks to the usual suspects offering entertaining conversation)....but I managed to get through it. And that old feeling of accomplishment afterward returned. I was proud when I sent a text to my coach reporting a completed training day to start off the week. Success! Walking that fine line between giving myself a bit of understanding and still a kick in the pants to get moving.

Presses used to be my least favorite movement. My upper body was so disproportionally weak, it felt like torture to make myself press. I'd beat myself up over low numbers and do the bare minimum, just to get to the lifts I enjoyed (read: lifts I was good at). Meanwhile, I'd jealously eye women with gorgeous arms, round shoulders, and broad chests. How on earth did they get their upper bodies to cooperate enough to build such muscle and strength?!

Enter strongman. No choice but to learn to press, efficiently AND heavy. To be fair, heavy is relative....but I can put my body weight over my head on an axle now and that's pretty damn decent for someone who struggled to press the bar a couple years ago. Not to mention my lucky fin and its insistence on lagging, no matter how much dumbbell work I do. Get with the program, fin. Though I maintain a strict tolerate/hate - I'm not about to call it anything near love - with the log, pressing has become a movement I enjoy. And it turned out tonight that db jerks were the thing that brought back that joy. Ohhhhh. There it is.

The reality of needing a new wardrobe to accommodate broader shoulders and bigger arms....that's another post for another time.

Turns out, the catalyst to this entire deal today was to change the way I was looking at going to the gym at all. It used to be a non-issue.....not going on a training day wasn't even a consideration. But these past few months....meh. It's become a "yeah, I'll go, if I still feel like it later...". Today, I stopped that story in my head. Going to the gym after work was a fact. It didn't matter what kind of day I had, what time I left work, how I felt. I was going. And I did.

Tomorrow's task: Focus.

Off to charge my headphones...

So there's this....

...I have no idea why I'm doing this.

I've had a blog before. It kept me focused on the journey and had a decent number of hits whenever I posted. But, as with most things....it faded as life got busier. It's a great connection to other humans, though. And my inner Word Nerd loves to write. So I guess we give it another go....

Let's start with a confession. The first half of this year, I was going heavy and hard in training. After the end of June, I needed a break. Took some down time, went on an 8 day trip to Montana (that in itself deserves its own post - it did more for me mentally and emotionally that I can even sum up right here), and puttered about in the gym. Got the harebrained idea to put on a contest, set that in motion, finally started back up in training myself.....then I started a new job, which has blown my world apart for 3 weeks. Three weeks of barely being active at all has just....deflated me. Strongman has been my therapy for a year and a half....lifting in general has been my sanity-maker for the past three. Being active has always been my therapy. I've begun to go stir crazy in my own head. And my motivation to do anything other than eat, sleep, and drag myself through the day has been non-existent.

So what the hell am I doing?

Finally. I finally feel a little more in control....finally relit the fire to get back into my groove. I had already decided to spend the rest of the year focusing on strength. No competing, no weight cuts, just eating and lifting. Of course, that lasted about a  minute before I started eyeballing a contest. Throwing the idea of competing in December around. Though it would be just before the contest I'm hosting, so I haven't decided yet if it's a great idea or not.

Why tell you all this? Maybe I just need to reinforce in my own head that it's okay. It's okay to be lukewarm sometimes. It's okay to focus on other parts of life for a while. It's okay to have to re-stoke the fire. It's okay and it doesn't dim my passion or fire for the sport. I still love strongman. I love nothing more than introducing it to other people....especially women. There is nothing more beautiful that watching the pride and excitement on a woman's face when she lifts/pulls/moves something she thought to be impossible.

Here we go then. Watch as I figure out how to balance life and achieve these goals. Somewhere between work, private practice, training, coaching, climbing...and, oh yeah, still having a personal life....maybe I can make it all work. Maybe I'll bring a bigger, stronger, faster package to competition next summer.

Or maybe I'll activate the escape button and go sell trinkets to tourists on a beach somewhere. ;)