the title of this blog is a quote from Bryce, and I'm thinking of making it my mantra for this weekend's swim.
Bryce went to a crossfit workout with me during "friends and family" week a couple months back. He watched me do some of the moves for the workout that day, and he said I looked really strong. Strong like the ox.
At first, my feminine sensibility was offended at being compared to a hulking, smelly, hoofed animal used for hard manual labor. The word "ox," as it pertains to a description of women, evokes the image of a stout, broad-shouldered, Eastern European woman with man-hands that could crush a small child's skull with one squeeze. After he repeated it a couple times, though, I'm kind of proud to have acheived that name. Especially because I have always looked up to him as my strong older brother (to whom everything that requires any sort of strength, coordination or physicality comes relatively easily).
Last night at crossfit, we started a series wherein we are doing lifts to find our 1 rep max's. I topped off backsquats at 155, strict presses at 65, and deadlifts at 205. It was really an awesome feeling to break into the "200 club" on deadlifting.
The more I go to crossfit, the more I am in love with it. I see now why it is compared to a cult. Once the bug bites, there's no going back!
I'm working out like I used to (maybe even a little less intensely) with Mike, but it's an entirely different feeling. I loved working out with Mike. Honestly, I wouldn't have had the confidence to go to crossfit if I hadn't started with Mike. What's different about crossfit is that I'm not just there busting my ass to lose weight -- weight loss is a side benefit. I'm there busting my ass to improve myself, cheer on others, make friends, and do things I never thought I'd ever be able to do (run a 5k, deadlift more than my body weight, swim in a triathlon... what?!).
I have a lot of moments of self-doubt. My mind tends towards the negative naturally. I'm not sure if it's because I'm embarassed, afraid to fail, or my humble Asian upbringing, but my kneejerk reaction to most new/challenging things is "I can't." At crossfit, saying the word "can't" results in a $5 penalty. It's silly, really, but ever so slowly, that small change is changing my mentality. Suddenly, "I can't" has become "just try. No worries if you fail. There's always next time."
The shadows of doubt still seize me late at night -- they did earlier this week when I had a small nightmare about my swim, which turned into big doubts about my abilities to complete the swim when I was awake. The swim clinic coaches recommend having a mantra to repeat when out on the open water to get through the rough patches. They also warned about how quickly a mantra can fall apart when you're out in the open water, and it feels like forever until the next landmark. I witnessed it firsthand when my weak mantra of "i can do it" quickly fell apart into "I hate the ocean" as soon as the water hit my chest.
I've been searching for just the right phrase to repeat to myself this weekend when I'm out on the swells, pulling as hard as I can, but not feeling like i'm moving at all. "Just try" has gotten me so many personal records this year so far, but I need something a bit more convincing when I'm mentally ready to give up. So...strong like the ox? Yes I am.
Friday, September 17, 2010
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
scariness and new heights!
Since my last update, I have signed up to do the swimming leg of a triathlon relay!
I really didn't know what i had gotten myself into until last weekend, when I went for an open water swim clinic at Crystal Cove state beach in Newport.
Let me preface this all with a brief recap of my one and only other experience swimming in the ocean:
I followed my college roommie (who grew up in socal, and was on the swim team in high school) into the ocean, not thinking much of the waves, or how to swim in them. I'm a mountain girl... we know nothing of this thing called the ocean. The first time I saw the ocean when I was in elementary school (before I knew how to swim -- so i just hung out on the beach and built sand castles), I thought it was just a big lake. I kid you not. It wasn't until about a month later, when my oldest bro wrote home how he could still see us standing in the PACIFIC OCEAN that i dawned on me: "I've been to the ocean??? I don't remember this... wait, THAT WAS THE OCEAN?!? I'VE BEEN TO THE OCEAN?!? WHAT?!"
back to college: my roommie dove head first into a wave, and i followed. Not pleasant, but ok, I made it. Second wave came (did you know they come in sets???), and I didn't make it out so well. It tumbled me, ground me into the floor of the ocean so that I didn't exactly know which way was up and which was down. I remember having a noseful of water, starting to panic. I barely had enough time to get back up to the surface for a breath of air before the next wave came crashing down on me. Repeat tumbling, water up the nose, and panic; only this time, i remember thinking "dear god, i might actually die if i don't come up for air soon."
back up on the surface: roommie is panicking because I haven't surfaced for more than 15 seconds. I finally resurface, scared shitless. I somehow made it back to solid ground, vowing never to swim in the ocean again.
fast forward about 10 years, and people at crossfit want to do a triathlon. I know I am not ready for all three events, but I am a pretty good swimmer. IN A POOL. There are people who want to do a relay, and they need a swimmer. Sure! Sign me up! Why not?! I crossfit. I'm awesome.
So I trained for the past month or so in my community pool (which is a 50 yard pool) every Sunday and a few Wednesdays in between my 3x/week crossfit workouts. I'm up to a half mile nonstop (albeit some of that swimming is breast stroke). Then I remember that Crystal Cove is the very place where I had that traumatic experience in the ocean. Holy shit. How can I make it past the waves? I can't. I'll die. But i can't flake... the biker and runner can't go unless i finish the swim. oh shit. shit. SHIT.
*****************
I manage to finagle a wait list spot for me and my bro to go to an open water swim clinic last weekend. And good thing. They teach us how to put on a wetsuit (also a new and unpleasant experience), which they assure us will keep us so buoyant that it will be impossible to drown. They teach us, in theory, how to enter and exit the ocean. Then, they divide us into groups: scaredy, not so scaredy, and just need to refine my technique. I run for the scaredy group. Bryce (my bro) heads for the not so scaredy group, but i know because he surfs, he should be in the advanced group -- my suspicion is that he wants to keep an eye on me.
They take us out once, and after the first wave, panic grips me. I survived, and I dove underneath it, but the water is so salty, and I'm remembering how scary it was 10 yrs ago. I can't breath -- or at least, my breaths are coming short and fast. My arms and legs are flailing around with a mind of their own, because I am freaking out. Second wave comes, and I survive again, but this time i am deeper out into the ocean, and there's nowhere to stand. Still am having a hard time breathing, but I don't have the option to wait for calm breaths because another wave is coming. Oh shit. Third wave comes and passes, and I survive, but am still not a very happy camper. I just really want to go back in where my feet can touch, and I can freak out in peace.
wait, i have to go back in. oh. my. god. i can't. i'll die. i won't time it right, and i'll die. The group is about to head back in, and i yell out "help! i need help!"
the lifeguard grabs me, and helps me in. Once on solid ground, I start to fall apart. I'm not going back out there. that feeling of panic is so unpleasant that i never want to feel it again. I'm going to have to flake on my team. there's just no way i'll be ready for this. The rest of the group goes back out, and I am still standing, petrified, on the shore. The group is already past the first wave, and I want to run in the other direction, peel off this wetsuit, and cry. One of the lifeguards grabs me, and promises that she will stay by me the entire time. She holds my hands, and takes me through another set, and back in. I still feel like i want to cry (but i won't let myself, because I don't cry in front of strangers if i can help it).
3rd time in and out, a pushier lifeguard/coach ushers me in and basically forces me to do it. Hm, not as bad. Maybe i just need somebody with a harder line? he talks me through it all, telling me when to duck under a wave. Much better, but I still hate the ocean.
Now it's time for the 1/2 mile swim. I tell Bryce i hate the ocean and i want to go home. He tells me I should try the swim. "just go as far as you can, and come in when you're tired. I'll be right next to you the entire time. You won't drown. The wetsuit is like a life vest! let's go."
me, in my weakened mental state (meekly): "ok."
We wade in, and i start to freeze up again, just staring blankly at the waves. Pushy coach comes up and says "here comes a wave, what are you gonna do?" I continue to stand there, staring, and he pulls me under, just in time.
"here comes another one! what are you gonna do? Dive! dive!" i dive, and grab sand. Phew. wave 2 done.
one more wave, and i'm past the breaks, just on the swell, and I'm swimming! Five strokes, though, and I'm exhausted.
Pushy coach: keep going! gotta keep moving!
Bryce: don't listen to him. If you need a break, take a break. I'm right here.
I push, and swim out to the first lifeguard, acting as marker.
the rest of the half mile swim is a blur to me, but I'll summarize:
me: I want to go in. i'm really really really tired
bryce: just swim to me.
me: but you're so far away!
coach robert (my crossfit coach): you're looking good, ed! just a little bit further!"
me: i'm really really tired. i want to go in. (but i push and swim a few strokes, ie, i flail my arms around and huff and puff -- breaths are still coming short and fast)
random swim clinic coach: madeline, you're doing really good! just keep going!
bryce, seeing me starting to panic, grabs me: stop moving. just relax. STOP MOVING YOUR ARMS AND LEGS! JUST RELAX!
me: I can't!!!! I wanna go in. (my arms and legs are still moving frantically, without any control from my brain, burning off more energy than i have left)
bryce: look, you're halfway there already! grab onto the lifeguard's board and rest. You can finish this.
me: i wanna go in. i wanna go in. I'm tired.
bryce: now is your chance. if you wanna go in, he'll take you in. I think you should finish. You made it halfway already!
me: ok. i'll go a little more.
bryce: ok. swim to me...
repeat me freaking out and the intermittent coach here and there cheering me on for the last half.
By the time I reach the last lifeguard marker, I am begging somebody to bring me in. I don't have the energy to make it back in on my own.
bryce: you finished the half mile. you're going to finish the whole thing on your own. nobody is going to help you. you can do this.
me: no, i can't. i need help. please.
nice lifeguard from before: i got you. i'll take you in, but we're gonna do this together. ready? here we go.
before i know it, i can touch the ground, and am walking up to the beach, with the rest of the swim clinic there watching and clapping for me. I am the second to last person to finish.
i am a little embarassed, but mostly just relieved and tired as all hell. I want to cry, but there are too many people watching.
I manage to hold it together long enough to get to the car, and while we are recapping the day, tears just start coming out of my eyes. I'm not sobbing or anything, but my eyes won't stop tearing up.
******************
I've never been reduced to tears by any swim or workout. It is amazing what a little panic will do to you, and how quickly I break down mentally when I am that worn out!
I went out again yesterday morning with a fellow crossfitter who is doing the full triathlon and a private swim coach. We went to calmer waters in Corona Del Mar, and managed to swim for about 40 minutes! I am feeling much better about the swim, but am still worried about ins and outs.
I'm gonna go back to crystal cove and hopefully swim the course at least one more time before the race. Keep your fingers crossed for me! I still don't like ocean swimming, and I may very likely be the last one in from the swim. If I can just finish, I will count my fear of the ocean conquered. Wish me luck!
I really didn't know what i had gotten myself into until last weekend, when I went for an open water swim clinic at Crystal Cove state beach in Newport.
Let me preface this all with a brief recap of my one and only other experience swimming in the ocean:
I followed my college roommie (who grew up in socal, and was on the swim team in high school) into the ocean, not thinking much of the waves, or how to swim in them. I'm a mountain girl... we know nothing of this thing called the ocean. The first time I saw the ocean when I was in elementary school (before I knew how to swim -- so i just hung out on the beach and built sand castles), I thought it was just a big lake. I kid you not. It wasn't until about a month later, when my oldest bro wrote home how he could still see us standing in the PACIFIC OCEAN that i dawned on me: "I've been to the ocean??? I don't remember this... wait, THAT WAS THE OCEAN?!? I'VE BEEN TO THE OCEAN?!? WHAT?!"
back to college: my roommie dove head first into a wave, and i followed. Not pleasant, but ok, I made it. Second wave came (did you know they come in sets???), and I didn't make it out so well. It tumbled me, ground me into the floor of the ocean so that I didn't exactly know which way was up and which was down. I remember having a noseful of water, starting to panic. I barely had enough time to get back up to the surface for a breath of air before the next wave came crashing down on me. Repeat tumbling, water up the nose, and panic; only this time, i remember thinking "dear god, i might actually die if i don't come up for air soon."
back up on the surface: roommie is panicking because I haven't surfaced for more than 15 seconds. I finally resurface, scared shitless. I somehow made it back to solid ground, vowing never to swim in the ocean again.
fast forward about 10 years, and people at crossfit want to do a triathlon. I know I am not ready for all three events, but I am a pretty good swimmer. IN A POOL. There are people who want to do a relay, and they need a swimmer. Sure! Sign me up! Why not?! I crossfit. I'm awesome.
So I trained for the past month or so in my community pool (which is a 50 yard pool) every Sunday and a few Wednesdays in between my 3x/week crossfit workouts. I'm up to a half mile nonstop (albeit some of that swimming is breast stroke). Then I remember that Crystal Cove is the very place where I had that traumatic experience in the ocean. Holy shit. How can I make it past the waves? I can't. I'll die. But i can't flake... the biker and runner can't go unless i finish the swim. oh shit. shit. SHIT.
*****************
I manage to finagle a wait list spot for me and my bro to go to an open water swim clinic last weekend. And good thing. They teach us how to put on a wetsuit (also a new and unpleasant experience), which they assure us will keep us so buoyant that it will be impossible to drown. They teach us, in theory, how to enter and exit the ocean. Then, they divide us into groups: scaredy, not so scaredy, and just need to refine my technique. I run for the scaredy group. Bryce (my bro) heads for the not so scaredy group, but i know because he surfs, he should be in the advanced group -- my suspicion is that he wants to keep an eye on me.
They take us out once, and after the first wave, panic grips me. I survived, and I dove underneath it, but the water is so salty, and I'm remembering how scary it was 10 yrs ago. I can't breath -- or at least, my breaths are coming short and fast. My arms and legs are flailing around with a mind of their own, because I am freaking out. Second wave comes, and I survive again, but this time i am deeper out into the ocean, and there's nowhere to stand. Still am having a hard time breathing, but I don't have the option to wait for calm breaths because another wave is coming. Oh shit. Third wave comes and passes, and I survive, but am still not a very happy camper. I just really want to go back in where my feet can touch, and I can freak out in peace.
wait, i have to go back in. oh. my. god. i can't. i'll die. i won't time it right, and i'll die. The group is about to head back in, and i yell out "help! i need help!"
the lifeguard grabs me, and helps me in. Once on solid ground, I start to fall apart. I'm not going back out there. that feeling of panic is so unpleasant that i never want to feel it again. I'm going to have to flake on my team. there's just no way i'll be ready for this. The rest of the group goes back out, and I am still standing, petrified, on the shore. The group is already past the first wave, and I want to run in the other direction, peel off this wetsuit, and cry. One of the lifeguards grabs me, and promises that she will stay by me the entire time. She holds my hands, and takes me through another set, and back in. I still feel like i want to cry (but i won't let myself, because I don't cry in front of strangers if i can help it).
3rd time in and out, a pushier lifeguard/coach ushers me in and basically forces me to do it. Hm, not as bad. Maybe i just need somebody with a harder line? he talks me through it all, telling me when to duck under a wave. Much better, but I still hate the ocean.
Now it's time for the 1/2 mile swim. I tell Bryce i hate the ocean and i want to go home. He tells me I should try the swim. "just go as far as you can, and come in when you're tired. I'll be right next to you the entire time. You won't drown. The wetsuit is like a life vest! let's go."
me, in my weakened mental state (meekly): "ok."
We wade in, and i start to freeze up again, just staring blankly at the waves. Pushy coach comes up and says "here comes a wave, what are you gonna do?" I continue to stand there, staring, and he pulls me under, just in time.
"here comes another one! what are you gonna do? Dive! dive!" i dive, and grab sand. Phew. wave 2 done.
one more wave, and i'm past the breaks, just on the swell, and I'm swimming! Five strokes, though, and I'm exhausted.
Pushy coach: keep going! gotta keep moving!
Bryce: don't listen to him. If you need a break, take a break. I'm right here.
I push, and swim out to the first lifeguard, acting as marker.
the rest of the half mile swim is a blur to me, but I'll summarize:
me: I want to go in. i'm really really really tired
bryce: just swim to me.
me: but you're so far away!
coach robert (my crossfit coach): you're looking good, ed! just a little bit further!"
me: i'm really really tired. i want to go in. (but i push and swim a few strokes, ie, i flail my arms around and huff and puff -- breaths are still coming short and fast)
random swim clinic coach: madeline, you're doing really good! just keep going!
bryce, seeing me starting to panic, grabs me: stop moving. just relax. STOP MOVING YOUR ARMS AND LEGS! JUST RELAX!
me: I can't!!!! I wanna go in. (my arms and legs are still moving frantically, without any control from my brain, burning off more energy than i have left)
bryce: look, you're halfway there already! grab onto the lifeguard's board and rest. You can finish this.
me: i wanna go in. i wanna go in. I'm tired.
bryce: now is your chance. if you wanna go in, he'll take you in. I think you should finish. You made it halfway already!
me: ok. i'll go a little more.
bryce: ok. swim to me...
repeat me freaking out and the intermittent coach here and there cheering me on for the last half.
By the time I reach the last lifeguard marker, I am begging somebody to bring me in. I don't have the energy to make it back in on my own.
bryce: you finished the half mile. you're going to finish the whole thing on your own. nobody is going to help you. you can do this.
me: no, i can't. i need help. please.
nice lifeguard from before: i got you. i'll take you in, but we're gonna do this together. ready? here we go.
before i know it, i can touch the ground, and am walking up to the beach, with the rest of the swim clinic there watching and clapping for me. I am the second to last person to finish.
i am a little embarassed, but mostly just relieved and tired as all hell. I want to cry, but there are too many people watching.
I manage to hold it together long enough to get to the car, and while we are recapping the day, tears just start coming out of my eyes. I'm not sobbing or anything, but my eyes won't stop tearing up.
******************
I've never been reduced to tears by any swim or workout. It is amazing what a little panic will do to you, and how quickly I break down mentally when I am that worn out!
I went out again yesterday morning with a fellow crossfitter who is doing the full triathlon and a private swim coach. We went to calmer waters in Corona Del Mar, and managed to swim for about 40 minutes! I am feeling much better about the swim, but am still worried about ins and outs.
I'm gonna go back to crystal cove and hopefully swim the course at least one more time before the race. Keep your fingers crossed for me! I still don't like ocean swimming, and I may very likely be the last one in from the swim. If I can just finish, I will count my fear of the ocean conquered. Wish me luck!
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