Nike outdid themselves with this one. It’s old but it’s awesome and I felt it needed a reposting before people attack their 2015 goals.
It was seemingly only a few years ago that one arm push-ups were nearly inconceivable. Now my mother-in-law does one arm push-ups. With a clap.
With the recent breaking of the plank record, I decided to compile a few of the coolest and most inspiring records.
Here are some recent world records of amazing people doing amazing things.
Man breaks World Record Plank, without Breaking a Sweat.
And Another Recent Record, 4210 Pull-ups in One Day
But THIS Guy Did Pinky Pull-Ups. Whaaattttt? You thought regular pull-ups were hard!
Fastest 100m on All Fours
Owww. Owww. My Finger.
And How Could I not Finish by Including Denis Kimetto’s New Marathon World Record?
Waiting. One of the marvellous traits of humanity is that we can learn to enjoy it. I know more than anything, training has helped me to appreciate it as the essence of life.
Every time I do a workout that challenges me, I wait. I wait until I can breathe again, I wait until my muscles regain feeling, I wait until I can stop the torture. And I know that the longer I wait, and the harder it is to wait, the better waiting is.
Training is waiting. You are never living in the body you created today. You are living in the body you created yesterday. Long ago. Someone else’s body. You will not get to reap the strength, power or endurance that you built today. No, you will wait.
I used to hate the taper before a big race. Turning off the beast mode after a chunk of hard training makes the sanest of us crazy. But now I love tapers. The wait. The calm before the storm.
Christmas time is all about waiting. We start it really early around my house and get really wound up. Every day is a count down to the big day. And is the day itself so wonderful? Not really. It’s all about the wait.
We get Christmas every year but I’m probably only going to have two babies. I find I need to remind myself that life is all about the wait, all about the journey, all about enjoying the moment. This is a time I will only have once… the only time my baby can hear my heart beat all the time, and when I can feel her every move.
There’s almost always opportunity in your life to move forward, but sometimes its all about sitting still to truly appreciate where you are.
It’s impossible not to notice. Summer is gone. I spent it in a whirlwind of renovations and first trimester pregnancy blah. Hence, my blog writing frequency has been less than stellar.
But I find myself compelled to write with the changing of the seasons and the not-too-distant arrival of 2014 and all the joys it promises.
The first being my daughter turning 3. The second being the arrival of my second child in February.
The third, and they say everything comes in threes, is the return of race season. I live to race. And 2014 looks like it will bring a lot of livin’.
I plan on focusing on my new love – obstacle racing – in the coming year with some supplemental trail and road racing. I am pretty sure I live in the best place on the planet to train: wet, mountainous and beautiful. And that leaves me feeling… thankful.
I wonder how easy breezy it must be for other athletes to decide their race goals. No diapers, no naps, no preschool, no packing the entire family into a plane or car to get to races, no breast feeding mid-run. I wonder how I am going to compete at the level I want to be competing at next year with the constraints I have.
But even my worries leave me feeling thankful. What a predicament to be in to be trying to balance two things that I love so dearly. Honestly, as much as I live to race, if I had to choose between having my family or a career in racing, hands down, my family would win. Thankfully, I don’t have to choose.
Now that’s something to be thankful for.
My two year old is an exceptional athlete. She’s not making any Olympic teams, but she an exceptional athlete in the way a Crossfitter is. All the way around. Yesterday my little peanut completed the 48 flights of stairs in the Climb for Clean Air. I didn’t think she would make it, but she did. Her 20 minute time might not have been the fastest of the day, but she, along with hundreds of other people, made it. It scares me that someone (barring the severely sick or disabled) wouldn’t. Yeah it might be hard, but it’s a serious red flag if it’s undoable for you. The latest ideas in fitness are all about looking back to look forward. So I am making a list of the things that I think all people can learn from their children.
1. Walk. Run. Jump. Ama, at 25 months, routinely jumps out of the stroller and walks for 2-3 hours. Just cause. And when she feels like running she runs (and makes me run too). She makes a game out of it and just enjoys moving her body. I wish we’d all do that. Movement is life… and life is to be enjoyed.
2. Squat to your heels people. It’s unnatural not to be able to sit in a deep squat. Ama squats down at every opportunity… and she had taught me that I should too.
3. Mobility before stability before strength. That’s how Ama did it. If you lack mobility, you cannot dynamically stabilize, and you’ll never be able to produce real world strength.
4. You are the sum of those around you. Ama is always copying my husband and me. For better or for worse. Darn did I really just say that to the dog again? People always ask me how I encourage such a young person to be so active. I don’t. It would be way more convenient to me if I could just stuff her in her stroller all day and go about my business. But I don’t sit in a stroller all day, so neither does Ama. It’s made me realize how much we all emulate our immediate circle. So choose wisely.
I tried the stroller class thing. The session was mostly walking or walking intensity effort with exercises woven in. I tried the stroller bootcamp thing. Better, but as Goldie Locks, I would have hit my second too small chair. As a runner, I am certainly not the epitome of well rounded fitness but do like to finish my workout feeling like I have really “worked out.” Not saying there is no a real need for low intensity postpartum exercise classes, but there is also a need for the high intensity type. To each their own I say.
I joined a friend at Crossfit Moms last year. I had reached the end of my doctor recommended personal trainer journey as my daughter was unable to go the gym with me and I could not afford babysitting on top of the training cost. Plus, I loved the idea of her coming along and engaging in the class. Which she loved too. Especially burpees. All kids love burpees.
It’s also great to have an awesome and supportive group of Crossfit Westside moms who also like to push their fitness, whatever that level might be. Some moms can rock the weights, some can out-kick in the runs, some have a broad base. It doesn’t matter though. We’re all there, after childbirth, as sleep deprived mothers, giving it what we got. Plus we can talk about engorgement and picky eaters and poop in class and get a warm reception. Our instructor, Tauyna, is also incredibly motivating. She herself is a rockstar Crossfit athlete, but transforms to a humble cheerleader coach, always pushing us encouragingly to where she knows we can go.
Over time I have really seen the progress. Functional movements marrying fitness and challenge is where I like to be.
As mentioned in previous blogs, I have a pretty severe set of physical restrictions that are hugely mitigated by fitness. Such as: two missing muscles (brachialis & anconeus) and radial nerve damage in one arm. This causes a comedic inability to control acceleration and deceleration in olympic lifting. I am sure I look like Mr Bean meets “my mom” lifting. I get over that though. Even though progress is too slow to see, you know it’s happening. And one of the best parts about Crossfit is that you can measure it. My elbow would at one point release on me every time I tried to do a chinup or pushup. Now I can crack out a few with no disengagement. Not bad.
It’s really not for every one though. Especially not the faint of heart or de-conditioned. DIzzy, red-faced ladies about to loose their breakfast decide this bowl of oatmeal is simply too hot for their tastes. Which is just why we need classes like Crossfit Moms. To each their own.