My next nutrition challenge starts today! The last formal challenge was 80 days, but I've done this for years so I've got the basics in my head already. I wrote a nutrition guide for the box, about 12 pages, and put in these general recommendations:
*for weight loss, multiply your weight by 10-12 and shoot for that number of calories
*protein is a MUST MUST MUST! Shoot for 0.8-1.0 gram per pound of body weight
*restrict carbs to fruits and veggies--the closer to the way it grew, the better
I'm trying to plan out some meals, and I'm confounded by getting enough protein. To get the amount of protein I need it's just LOT of food--protein doesn't exist on its own, it's usually coupled with fat. And it just means a huge volume of food. 4 eggs contain about 300 calories, 20 grams of fat, and 25 grams of protein. If you do the math on that, I'd need nearly 4 DOZEN eggs. I'd be right around the right number of calories, but jesus. No one can eat 4 dozen eggs in a day!
Also a challenge is that when you're not eating sugar or processed foods, you're not eating empty calories. Hitting a calorie goal becomes much harder in the reverse direction--eating ENOUGH calories is a challenge. Whole foods are filling foods, especially when you're focused on protein. It becomes something you have to think about, a lot, just to make it happen. Thankfully I've been working really hard with Dr. Matt, and I'm doing really well at keeping myself in a good mental place.
Now I'm absolutely willing to be open about my issues with food. I own it. The food I have chosen to put in my body has gotten me into this mess. But getting out seems nearly impossible.
I have a calorie goal. I have a protein goal. I have to focus on those goals, but even more important than that is to focus on the idea that those are GOALS. They are not absolutes, and they are not mandates. I will do the best I can, and see how my body responds.
This morning I ate sausages. I'm planning meatballs (no breadcrumbs) and salad with chicken for later. Breakfast and lunch are made for tomorrow, and I should have enough leftover meatballs for tomorrow's dinner. So if I get up and get those made, I should be good to go. ;)
And box in the AM! YAY!
Sunday, February 1, 2015
Saturday, January 31, 2015
Let's get this party started!
My last post was over a month ago. We went on vacation--a long road trip to Portland/Vancouver and home down the coast-- for a week over the new year. It was a wonderful drive, lots of talking and laughing and music, and I was very glad to have the chance to spend the time with my husband. Then we got home, the night before my rebirthday. I woke up that morning and did some errands, then decided I was feeling poorly and was going to lie down for awhile. 17 hours later, I dragged myself into work and suffered through the day. "Don't hesitate to call in," my supervisor told me that evening. And thus I was out with the influenza virus for a week. I dragged myself back into work, running at about 65%, the next week and suffered through. The next week I started to feel a bit more like myself. By the time I was completely myself again, three and a half weeks had gone by and January was gone.
The influenza virus is no joke this year. I usually have a robust immune system, and this slapped me down hard. Two days after I went down with it my husband started rocking a 102.6F fever, so he went to Urgent Care and that's where he was diagnosed. They gave him Tamiflu, but because I was outside the 48 hour onset window (I had been self medicating with Nyquil and pineapple orange juice, and the combination of aspirin and vitamin C meant I never broke a high fever) I had to suffer through without any help. And I did, and I'm fine now--just a bit of the productive cough left--but I was shocked by how firmly I got slapped down.
What it meant, though, was that January was gone before I knew it, and with January that "New Years" resolve. I did the best I could, but there was a bit of time there when "the best I could" was a couple of pieces of pizza and a glass of orange juice for the day. I haven't yet been to the box regularly this year. I went twice on vacation, and had a wonderful WOD at Crossfit Roseburg. I also went to Crossfit Pearl District in Portland. I was happy to go to different boxes, and full of plans for attacking my WODs fresh in the new year.
Then I got sick.
I went to the saturday free class last week, and was shocked by how far back I'd slid. I knew my lungs were battered, but I was truly shocked by the fact that I couldn't even make it through a full fence run (200 meters). We had a 15 minute AMRAP, and I just focused on my own workout and kept going. Saturday's workouts are for beginners interested in testing out the Crossfit style of workout and the box, so it was all bodyweight work. In 15 minutes other people finished 7, 9, 11+ rounds. I finished 5. I spoke briefly with Mick, and sulked a bit about how fast I'd lost everything I'd worked so hard to develop over the previous 4 months. "It'll come back faster than that," Mick assured me.
I came tuesday. I opted for OFP (Own F^king Program) because I didn't think my lungs would handle the running in the prescribed WOD. Still battling the immense fatigue and lack of stamina, coupled with a sharply ramped up work schedule, I didn't make it into the box again. Then it was saturday again, and I decided to go to the beginner's intro WOD.
We have quite a few new members, and I recognized very few people. None of the regulars were there except Emily and Sian. Hmmm. Did something happen? I've obviously been really out of the loop. It turns out that everyone else was at the Battle At the Barracks, and I'd forgotten. Oops. I'm sorry guys, you know I'd have come to cheer you on!
We've been in the process of setting up a bigger box around the corner, and today was the day that everything had to be moved. Our WOD consisted of:
*with a partner, grab two bars and transport them to the new box 1/4 mile away
*run back and do 30 box jumps
*grab a medball and transport it to the new box
*run back and do 30 pullups
*grab a kettlebell and transport it to the new box
*run back and do 30 pushups
This was great for me. There were no times, no weights, nothing recorded on the whiteboard. It gave me a chance to complete a WOD with no competitive edge at all. With nothing recorded, I wasn't even competing with myself. I had a chance to do these "crazy Crossfit things" and get familiar with the feel of the iron, but no opportunity to judge myself and find myself lacking. After the exhaustion of last week, I needed an opportunity to get back in the box and push myself gently. I couldn't have asked for a better return.
Onward to February!
The influenza virus is no joke this year. I usually have a robust immune system, and this slapped me down hard. Two days after I went down with it my husband started rocking a 102.6F fever, so he went to Urgent Care and that's where he was diagnosed. They gave him Tamiflu, but because I was outside the 48 hour onset window (I had been self medicating with Nyquil and pineapple orange juice, and the combination of aspirin and vitamin C meant I never broke a high fever) I had to suffer through without any help. And I did, and I'm fine now--just a bit of the productive cough left--but I was shocked by how firmly I got slapped down.
What it meant, though, was that January was gone before I knew it, and with January that "New Years" resolve. I did the best I could, but there was a bit of time there when "the best I could" was a couple of pieces of pizza and a glass of orange juice for the day. I haven't yet been to the box regularly this year. I went twice on vacation, and had a wonderful WOD at Crossfit Roseburg. I also went to Crossfit Pearl District in Portland. I was happy to go to different boxes, and full of plans for attacking my WODs fresh in the new year.
Then I got sick.
I went to the saturday free class last week, and was shocked by how far back I'd slid. I knew my lungs were battered, but I was truly shocked by the fact that I couldn't even make it through a full fence run (200 meters). We had a 15 minute AMRAP, and I just focused on my own workout and kept going. Saturday's workouts are for beginners interested in testing out the Crossfit style of workout and the box, so it was all bodyweight work. In 15 minutes other people finished 7, 9, 11+ rounds. I finished 5. I spoke briefly with Mick, and sulked a bit about how fast I'd lost everything I'd worked so hard to develop over the previous 4 months. "It'll come back faster than that," Mick assured me.
I came tuesday. I opted for OFP (Own F^king Program) because I didn't think my lungs would handle the running in the prescribed WOD. Still battling the immense fatigue and lack of stamina, coupled with a sharply ramped up work schedule, I didn't make it into the box again. Then it was saturday again, and I decided to go to the beginner's intro WOD.
We have quite a few new members, and I recognized very few people. None of the regulars were there except Emily and Sian. Hmmm. Did something happen? I've obviously been really out of the loop. It turns out that everyone else was at the Battle At the Barracks, and I'd forgotten. Oops. I'm sorry guys, you know I'd have come to cheer you on!
We've been in the process of setting up a bigger box around the corner, and today was the day that everything had to be moved. Our WOD consisted of:
*with a partner, grab two bars and transport them to the new box 1/4 mile away
*run back and do 30 box jumps
*grab a medball and transport it to the new box
*run back and do 30 pullups
*grab a kettlebell and transport it to the new box
*run back and do 30 pushups
This was great for me. There were no times, no weights, nothing recorded on the whiteboard. It gave me a chance to complete a WOD with no competitive edge at all. With nothing recorded, I wasn't even competing with myself. I had a chance to do these "crazy Crossfit things" and get familiar with the feel of the iron, but no opportunity to judge myself and find myself lacking. After the exhaustion of last week, I needed an opportunity to get back in the box and push myself gently. I couldn't have asked for a better return.
Onward to February!
Friday, December 26, 2014
The 200 Club
When I first started forming strength goals, Tiffany told me about the 200 Club, an unofficial "club" of those who reach a 200 pound deadlift. The idea appealed to me, and I set a 6 month goal. By 2/23/15, I was going to deadlift 200 pounds.
My PR on 11/25 was 185 for 3 reps. I was so close, but we'd been spending time on snatch and ignoring deadlift. I was still intent on going to the box, and I pulled up at 5:10am.
Mick arrived shortly and let us in. SWOD: deadlift 5/4/4/3/2, he wrote on the board. Oh yeah, I told myself. Hitting 200 today! I scurried around to build a bar.
"Starting heavy!" Mick commented on my bar. I bent and lifted for 5 reps, then dropped the 135# bar. "Nah, this is light," I said.
I added plates and repped. Added plates and repped. 155#. 175#. 195#. "Wanna add 5 pounds?" I said out loud, channeling my inner Cassie. I chuckled and added 5 pounds. The vaunted 200 pound bar rested at my feet.
I thought of Tiffany and all of her sports psych coaching. Chalking my hands, I clapped twice and shook them off. Turning back to the bar, I told myself, "You've got this! You are strong! This will be great! You've got this!" I imagined myself, hands wrapped securely around the bar, driving my heels in to the ground and standing up with perfect form. Easy peasy.
I wrapped my hands around the bar, thumbs behind and fingers in front. I straightened my knees and pushed my butt back until I felt tension in my hamstrings. I rocked my heels back and felt contact with the floor through my barefoot shoes. I tightened my back and felt my shoulderblades pinch and slide down my back. I looked up, noticed Mick watching me, and tensed. Like a smooth hydraulic lift, I gripped the bar and lifted it with me as I stood.
"Yeah Erin!" Mick yelled and turned to write it on the PR board.
I'm a member of the 200 Pound Club.
My PR on 11/25 was 185 for 3 reps. I was so close, but we'd been spending time on snatch and ignoring deadlift. I was still intent on going to the box, and I pulled up at 5:10am.
Mick arrived shortly and let us in. SWOD: deadlift 5/4/4/3/2, he wrote on the board. Oh yeah, I told myself. Hitting 200 today! I scurried around to build a bar.
"Starting heavy!" Mick commented on my bar. I bent and lifted for 5 reps, then dropped the 135# bar. "Nah, this is light," I said.
I added plates and repped. Added plates and repped. 155#. 175#. 195#. "Wanna add 5 pounds?" I said out loud, channeling my inner Cassie. I chuckled and added 5 pounds. The vaunted 200 pound bar rested at my feet.
I thought of Tiffany and all of her sports psych coaching. Chalking my hands, I clapped twice and shook them off. Turning back to the bar, I told myself, "You've got this! You are strong! This will be great! You've got this!" I imagined myself, hands wrapped securely around the bar, driving my heels in to the ground and standing up with perfect form. Easy peasy.
I wrapped my hands around the bar, thumbs behind and fingers in front. I straightened my knees and pushed my butt back until I felt tension in my hamstrings. I rocked my heels back and felt contact with the floor through my barefoot shoes. I tightened my back and felt my shoulderblades pinch and slide down my back. I looked up, noticed Mick watching me, and tensed. Like a smooth hydraulic lift, I gripped the bar and lifted it with me as I stood.
"Yeah Erin!" Mick yelled and turned to write it on the PR board.
I'm a member of the 200 Pound Club.
Wednesday, December 24, 2014
Achieving goals
I jogged into the box at 5:31am. Because I arrived early I had headed out to do a mile run warmup, and I was just getting back. Other boxmates streamed around me as I came in the door. I asked what we were doing, and Monica said, "You don't want to know," as she ran out the door. Uh oh.
Stef was standing in front of the board. I read over his shoulder:
BADGER (40 min cap)
3 rounds for time:
30 squat cleans
30 pullups
800 meter run
Ummm...yikes. Stef and I quickly conferred and decided that I could sub ring rows for pullups. I was intimidated as hell, but I was game to try. Okay. There were only five of us in the class, since it was Christmas Eve. Okay. I could just hack away at it. I'm only competing with myself.
I'm still working on form for squat cleans, and I slowed down considerably with my first 30. While I was working on ring rows Stef offered the option of only doing 400s for the 800s, and I gladly accepted. Gamely I headed out the door into the predawn.
Coming back in from my first 400, my legs were rubbery but I was still in the game. I Approached my bar.
"Break it up!" Stef called to the room. "Sets of 5, sets of 10. Whatever it takes!"
I worked through 8 and paused at the top. Two more is just two, then you can drop, I told myself. I set my feet and squatted to grab the bar. Up. Fast elbows. Squat. Up. I paused. One more... I coached myself through one more and dropped the bar. Wandering the room, I admired everyone else who was just as intent on their game. Phiew. Back to my bar, I broke it up to sets of 5 and got it done.
Ring rows and out the door. It was still cool, and still dark. "Way to go Monica!" I yelled at the tiny figure approaching me. I walked to the top of the hill and jogged. Jog to the street, walk the street, jog to the fire hydrant, I bargained with myself. My legs felt miserable but I kept going.
Back in the box for the last round, I broke up the cleans into sets of five but still my form was failing. I panted and walked it off, tried again. The sets seemed to drag on impossibly, but I finally got them done. I settled in for ring rows and glanced at the clock. 37:36. Crap, I thought.
"Hey Stef!" I yelled. "I'm gonna finish, just watch the clock for me, okay?" I finished my 30 and was out the door.
Goaded on by the idea that Stef was watching his clock to add time onto my 40 minutes, I jogged to the top of the hill. My legs wobbled and my feet seemed to land at odd angles. I focused on my breathing and dropped to a walk. Walking was a struggle, too. My left leg seemed to lag behind my body and I dragged it with me. I was the last one out there of the 5 of us, but I was going to finish.
Turning at the fire hydrant, I faced up the hill. Damn, I thought, and consciously changed my thinking. You're so close! You're almost done! I repeated to myself as I dragged up the hill. I walked to the top of the hill outside the door, then willed my legs to lift and shuffled to the box.
"41:25!" Stef yelled. "Way to go Erin!" He wrote my time on the board, along with a special note that read, 1 mile warm up run, WAY TO GO ERIN! I collapsed on the floor and glowed. I finished. As I panted I also realized I'd finished a WOD with 400s. Another goal met!
"You know, four months ago you couldn't have done that," Stef looked at me.
"I could barely do it now!" I chuckled, still panting.
"But four months ago, you'd have tapped out in the first round," Stef persisted. "Getting better every day, girl."
Stef was standing in front of the board. I read over his shoulder:
BADGER (40 min cap)
3 rounds for time:
30 squat cleans
30 pullups
800 meter run
Ummm...yikes. Stef and I quickly conferred and decided that I could sub ring rows for pullups. I was intimidated as hell, but I was game to try. Okay. There were only five of us in the class, since it was Christmas Eve. Okay. I could just hack away at it. I'm only competing with myself.
I'm still working on form for squat cleans, and I slowed down considerably with my first 30. While I was working on ring rows Stef offered the option of only doing 400s for the 800s, and I gladly accepted. Gamely I headed out the door into the predawn.
Coming back in from my first 400, my legs were rubbery but I was still in the game. I Approached my bar.
"Break it up!" Stef called to the room. "Sets of 5, sets of 10. Whatever it takes!"
I worked through 8 and paused at the top. Two more is just two, then you can drop, I told myself. I set my feet and squatted to grab the bar. Up. Fast elbows. Squat. Up. I paused. One more... I coached myself through one more and dropped the bar. Wandering the room, I admired everyone else who was just as intent on their game. Phiew. Back to my bar, I broke it up to sets of 5 and got it done.
Ring rows and out the door. It was still cool, and still dark. "Way to go Monica!" I yelled at the tiny figure approaching me. I walked to the top of the hill and jogged. Jog to the street, walk the street, jog to the fire hydrant, I bargained with myself. My legs felt miserable but I kept going.
Back in the box for the last round, I broke up the cleans into sets of five but still my form was failing. I panted and walked it off, tried again. The sets seemed to drag on impossibly, but I finally got them done. I settled in for ring rows and glanced at the clock. 37:36. Crap, I thought.
"Hey Stef!" I yelled. "I'm gonna finish, just watch the clock for me, okay?" I finished my 30 and was out the door.
Goaded on by the idea that Stef was watching his clock to add time onto my 40 minutes, I jogged to the top of the hill. My legs wobbled and my feet seemed to land at odd angles. I focused on my breathing and dropped to a walk. Walking was a struggle, too. My left leg seemed to lag behind my body and I dragged it with me. I was the last one out there of the 5 of us, but I was going to finish.
Turning at the fire hydrant, I faced up the hill. Damn, I thought, and consciously changed my thinking. You're so close! You're almost done! I repeated to myself as I dragged up the hill. I walked to the top of the hill outside the door, then willed my legs to lift and shuffled to the box.
"41:25!" Stef yelled. "Way to go Erin!" He wrote my time on the board, along with a special note that read, 1 mile warm up run, WAY TO GO ERIN! I collapsed on the floor and glowed. I finished. As I panted I also realized I'd finished a WOD with 400s. Another goal met!
"You know, four months ago you couldn't have done that," Stef looked at me.
"I could barely do it now!" I chuckled, still panting.
"But four months ago, you'd have tapped out in the first round," Stef persisted. "Getting better every day, girl."
Monday, December 22, 2014
Taking steps forward!
This morning I got an automated phone call. The mechanical voice told me that there was a space available for me in Nutrition 150, a class I wait-listed two weeks ago. Jubilant, I logged on and added the class. I'm taking Nutrition 150 in the spring!
Why am I taking this class? I graduated from San Diego State University in 2003 with a degree in Kinesiology, emphasis pre Physical Therapy. Then I got an AS from Mesa College in Physical Therapy Assisting, and I've been doing that for more than 7 years. But SDSU offers a dual Masters degree in Exercise Physiology and Nutrition Sciences, and that's what I want to do now. And Nutrition is a prerequisite.
And why do I want to do this? Why, indeed. Everything I'm reading and everything I'm experiencing leads me to think that there is a link, and a unity, between variable high-intensity exercise (Crossfit style) and a whole, natural food diet. I want to know what that link is. I want to quantify what happens in the body. I want to explore the changes in metabolic pathway utilization with those two variables intact. And I want to write a book, and sell it, and help people like me. Some people have what I have always thought of as "workhorse bodies": we are stocky and strong and function well on meat-and-veg. Our bodies, you could argue, have evolved less than others and we still need basic, essential activity and nutrition. I want to explore that. I want to understand that. I want to know WHY, so that I can teach other people HOW.
Why am I taking this class? I graduated from San Diego State University in 2003 with a degree in Kinesiology, emphasis pre Physical Therapy. Then I got an AS from Mesa College in Physical Therapy Assisting, and I've been doing that for more than 7 years. But SDSU offers a dual Masters degree in Exercise Physiology and Nutrition Sciences, and that's what I want to do now. And Nutrition is a prerequisite.
And why do I want to do this? Why, indeed. Everything I'm reading and everything I'm experiencing leads me to think that there is a link, and a unity, between variable high-intensity exercise (Crossfit style) and a whole, natural food diet. I want to know what that link is. I want to quantify what happens in the body. I want to explore the changes in metabolic pathway utilization with those two variables intact. And I want to write a book, and sell it, and help people like me. Some people have what I have always thought of as "workhorse bodies": we are stocky and strong and function well on meat-and-veg. Our bodies, you could argue, have evolved less than others and we still need basic, essential activity and nutrition. I want to explore that. I want to understand that. I want to know WHY, so that I can teach other people HOW.
Thursday, December 18, 2014
As for eating goals...
I swear, I jinx myself by saying things are going well.
I in no way take my patients' generosity for granted. It's lovely of them to offer us things, and I really do appreciate the consideration and the thought. The unfortunate thing is that their generosity veers in the direction of food "treats". And you can rest assured that, as with most people, "treats" doesn't mean fruits and veggies.
This morning a patient arrived with chocolate cupcakes iced with vanilla frosting and topped with sugar snowflakes. She baked them for us! I thanked her very nicely and put them in the office.
Then my student's clinic coordinator arrived for a midterm check, and brought us a pound of Belgian chocolates and a pound of peppermint bark. I thanked her and put them behind me while we discussed my student, out of my line of sight in the office.
Then a patient arrived with 4 gourmet chocolate-caramel-nut covered apples from Rocky Mountain Chocolate Factory. I thanked her and put them in the office.
Then a patient brought us "candy canes" filled with Hershey's Kisses and Reese's Peanut Butter Cups. I opened those and poured them into a small bucket by the sign-in sheet, so people can help themselves.
Then my husband texted me a picture from his business trip to Portland. He explained that he was going to check his carry-on because he had acquired a new carry on: a huge pink box from Voodoo Doughnuts.
The cupcake I gave away. The chocolate I gave away. The apple I'm saving to see if my husband wants it. The doughnuts...I honestly don't know. A bite of each? Pick one and enjoy it and get right back on track? Ignore them and throw my husband's gift right back in his face? The chocolates and the apple were easy--I looked at them and thought, "If I wanted to I could go straight to the store and buy this for myself at any time." Decision made. The doughnuts...yes, I can get doughnuts any time. No, I can't get Voodoo Doughnuts, and I'm not likely to be in Portland--I'm in San Diego, at the very bottom of California--anytime soon. Hmmmmmmmmmmm. So maybe...a bite of each doughnut I can't get around here? Ugh, I swear!
At any rate, whatever I decide, I know the next step: right back on track. I already have the meals cooked.
I in no way take my patients' generosity for granted. It's lovely of them to offer us things, and I really do appreciate the consideration and the thought. The unfortunate thing is that their generosity veers in the direction of food "treats". And you can rest assured that, as with most people, "treats" doesn't mean fruits and veggies.
This morning a patient arrived with chocolate cupcakes iced with vanilla frosting and topped with sugar snowflakes. She baked them for us! I thanked her very nicely and put them in the office.
Then my student's clinic coordinator arrived for a midterm check, and brought us a pound of Belgian chocolates and a pound of peppermint bark. I thanked her and put them behind me while we discussed my student, out of my line of sight in the office.
Then a patient arrived with 4 gourmet chocolate-caramel-nut covered apples from Rocky Mountain Chocolate Factory. I thanked her and put them in the office.
Then a patient brought us "candy canes" filled with Hershey's Kisses and Reese's Peanut Butter Cups. I opened those and poured them into a small bucket by the sign-in sheet, so people can help themselves.
Then my husband texted me a picture from his business trip to Portland. He explained that he was going to check his carry-on because he had acquired a new carry on: a huge pink box from Voodoo Doughnuts.
The cupcake I gave away. The chocolate I gave away. The apple I'm saving to see if my husband wants it. The doughnuts...I honestly don't know. A bite of each? Pick one and enjoy it and get right back on track? Ignore them and throw my husband's gift right back in his face? The chocolates and the apple were easy--I looked at them and thought, "If I wanted to I could go straight to the store and buy this for myself at any time." Decision made. The doughnuts...yes, I can get doughnuts any time. No, I can't get Voodoo Doughnuts, and I'm not likely to be in Portland--I'm in San Diego, at the very bottom of California--anytime soon. Hmmmmmmmmmmm. So maybe...a bite of each doughnut I can't get around here? Ugh, I swear!
At any rate, whatever I decide, I know the next step: right back on track. I already have the meals cooked.
Set some goals!
I don't like resolutions. There's this culture of "start on January 1st, give up in three weeks, and hate yourself all year because you're not doing what you said you were going to do" that I can't get behind. I can't support the idea of expecting myself to fail. Nor can I support hating myself for doing what I expected myself to do. It's all a set up, and I just don't do it.
With that said, I do generally have an idea what I want to accomplish in the coming year. Of course, "the coming year" is from whenever I say it is, not from January 1. Right now I have a series of 10 goals for Crossfit. I've achieved 4 of them, and I'm definitely making headway toward the others.
One of my first goals was to run the 400 meter. That's it. No walking! Running has always been a trial for me, always something my body just didn't want to do. Even Mick, my box owner, admits, "you're just built for strength. You're not built for speed." Which is why I can deadlift 185# after only 4 months at the box, and I still struggle with that damned 400. Most of the time (not consistently yet) I can run the 400 one time. Most of the time.
So the 400 meter has become a series of goals:
*Run the 400 without walking 10/21/14!
*Run the 400 in less than 4:30
*Run the 400 in less than 4 minutes
*Run the 400 as part of a WOD
*Run the 400 in less than 3:30
*Run the 400 in less than 3 minutes
*Run the 400 in less than 2:30
My deadlift is at 185# as a 1RM, and I set a goal for 6 months:
*Deadlift 200# by 2/23/15
There are also goals that pertain to overhead/push press (103# by 2/13/15) and pullups (1 strict pullup by 8/23/15).
One goal that I have put on my list is a Level 1 Crossfit cert after 8/23/15. I want to give myself a year in the box, then I want to pursue a cert. My dream is to specialize, kind of design my own focus, if you will, on working with the obese and the injured. But, just like running, I've got to start with the basics. Level 1 cert is first.
I love having goals. I love having little goals, so I can achieve things regularly. If they get me to my ultimate goal, who cares how little they are or how often I congratulate myself on making progress? The more the merrier, I say.
With that said, I do generally have an idea what I want to accomplish in the coming year. Of course, "the coming year" is from whenever I say it is, not from January 1. Right now I have a series of 10 goals for Crossfit. I've achieved 4 of them, and I'm definitely making headway toward the others.
One of my first goals was to run the 400 meter. That's it. No walking! Running has always been a trial for me, always something my body just didn't want to do. Even Mick, my box owner, admits, "you're just built for strength. You're not built for speed." Which is why I can deadlift 185# after only 4 months at the box, and I still struggle with that damned 400. Most of the time (not consistently yet) I can run the 400 one time. Most of the time.
So the 400 meter has become a series of goals:
*Run the 400 in less than 4:30
*Run the 400 in less than 4 minutes
*Run the 400 as part of a WOD
*Run the 400 in less than 3:30
*Run the 400 in less than 3 minutes
*Run the 400 in less than 2:30
My deadlift is at 185# as a 1RM, and I set a goal for 6 months:
*Deadlift 200# by 2/23/15
There are also goals that pertain to overhead/push press (103# by 2/13/15) and pullups (1 strict pullup by 8/23/15).
One goal that I have put on my list is a Level 1 Crossfit cert after 8/23/15. I want to give myself a year in the box, then I want to pursue a cert. My dream is to specialize, kind of design my own focus, if you will, on working with the obese and the injured. But, just like running, I've got to start with the basics. Level 1 cert is first.
I love having goals. I love having little goals, so I can achieve things regularly. If they get me to my ultimate goal, who cares how little they are or how often I congratulate myself on making progress? The more the merrier, I say.
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