Posts Tagged With: Pain

I suck at this blogging thing…

A-true-relationship-is-having-someone-who-accepts-your-past-supports-your-present-loves-you-and-encourages-your-futureNot that this statement is shocking to anyone that has read this blog with any frequency. ๐Ÿ™‚ But I think I finally know why. I started this blog to kinda get outside of myself. I have struggled a long time with allowing people close enough to hurt me. Now, I realize that one’s instinct is to keep themselves safe, but I kept EVERYONE at least arm’s length. But at the same time, I would help anyone that I could, as often as I could. I thought this was being a good friend. Helping them carry their burdens while not burdening them with my own. But that is not true relationship. It’s a give and take. And I found as I began to let people in, that it was frustrating for them to be in relationship with me while I purposely held parts of myself to myself.

And it was a lonely place to be. While I was safe from any emotional harm, I also was no longer living life. I actually don’t know if I had ever lived life. And then I let go this perception of self preservation and began to open up. I started with those that were already my friends. I let them get closer. I shared struggles with them and let them help me, even if the help was nothing more than to listen. And it was difficult! So freaking difficult to do. As I spoke about whatever I was struggling about, I was also worrying on the inside of how they were perceiving me. I mean was I being petty? Did I blow things out of proportion? Was my friend sitting there thinking that I was just a huge loser? Turns out no. Well, most of the time. I am human. And I have honest friends ๐Ÿ˜‰

So I started this blog as an exercise to get out of my comfort zone. It started with the mundane (and often hysterical) training stories of my marathon training and then circuit training. And every once in a while, I put a little something personal on there, and I would just see the numbers skyrocket on views. (Oh, and one secret I’ve kept is that I could see the view count and search terms. Someone out there has been regularly searching out my blog but would never subscribe. I see you! ๐Ÿ˜‰ Ha!!)

And then those posts became more regular. And the more honest I became, the more it seemed to attract people’s attention. And never once did I receive anything negative. And this is the forum to do it. Complete anonymity!! But a fantastic thing seemed to happen in the process. The more I got used to opening up, the more I was not met with judgmental attitudes, the more I opened up. ย In real life. I worried less about the opinions of those that didn’t matter. I became transparent to those that I love and love me. I began to live a life with arms wide open. I began to simply live life.

Now I’m not saying that I have not been hurt in the process because I have. Deeply. There have been moments where I was convinced that I would be unable to claw my way back to the surface. But then I remembered that I didn’t have to do it alone. That I had people that were there to help me. That wantedย to help me. And then there were moments that I trusted people that weren’t who they presented themselves to be and I just had to let go of those relationships instead of trying to figure out the why of the situation.ย And as broken as my heart was, I bounced back. Some situations took longer than others, but I bounced back with the help of my friends.

And as I lived more transparently in my real life, I spent less time chronicling my shenanigans on here. ย Because I became busy. Busy living the life I was always meant to live. Enjoying the wonderfully genuine people that were placed in my path. Busy living the life I used to write about in this blog.

And in my times of need, I reached out for help. I began to shed this huge ego problem that I held so tightly to before ( <- I attribute this to Jiu Jitsu, btw). And man I’m a lucky girl! Because no matter the situation, the help was abundant. Whether it was deep, big problems or a mini sobfest in the middle of my bed, someone was there to care for me. With absolutely no judgement. Now I’m not perfect. I still struggle with opening up. But those same people that are there to support me also support me by gently reminding me that I am being a stubborn ass. ๐Ÿ˜‰ I’m a work in progress. ๐Ÿ™‚

So I think I know why I now suck at this blog thing. It’s because I no longer suck at this thing called life. So like other things in my life that were only meant to be in my life for a season, I am saying goodbye to this blog.

~~Til we meet again (in real life)

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More like a family…

photo8 months. That’s how long I’ve been doing Jiu Jitsu. Still loving the hell out of it. Best form of exercise I have found for my body and personality. I’m learning every single day. My mind stays engaged. And I love that aspect. But even more, I find that the longer I go, the more I appreciate the relationships I have formed.

I genuinely adore the people I train with. They have got to be the most down to earth people I have ever met. Actually, most that I have met in the Jiu Jitsu community are pretty awesome people. I learn something new just about every time I roll with any of my teammates. I love that even if I get my ass handed to me or vice versa, we can stand up and finish with a hug and a “Hey! Good roll.” because it is not about beating the other person in the end. Or to prove a point. We save that for the tournaments. It’s about learning from one another and having fun.

I also love that I can talk to just about anyone with an issue I am having and they are ready to help. There is no sense of “me” in the jiu jitsu world. Everyone seems to want to share knowledge. Not finishing that choke? “Move this way. Change this. Yep. Like that.” *Gag* Tap! Tap! It’s the jiu jitsu way.

And I can’t tell you how awesome it is to have this as a part of my life. I’m a girl living far from home. I love knowing that at the end of the day, I’m walking into not just my jiu jitsu gym, but into what feels like home with family. The only difference is the hugs we give one another look awfully similar to chokes. ๐Ÿ˜‰

So to my jiu jitsu family, thanks! You all are awesome and I so appreciate who you are and how you represent jiu jitsu to the world.

~~Til the next time

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Day 6: What is the hardest thing you have ever experienced

Day 6

Note to self: Next time I create one of these, pick light-hearted material.ย I guess the goal was to not only write but to also stretch myself but stiiiiiiiiill… Alright enough of the whining. ๐Ÿ™‚

Day 6: What is the hardest thing you have ever experienced

Honestly, I could pick a number of things to write about, but if I am being completely honest, I know which one it is.

Love is a funny thing sometimes. It is something that can lift you up, carry you through the most difficult of days. It can also rip you to your core. And the worst you will feel will sometimes come from those that you love the most. I guess it is because those are the ones that you open up to the most. You are your most vulnerable and therefore the heartache comes easier.

urlOkay, I’m stalling ๐Ÿ™‚ but I guess the hardest thing I’ve experienced is also one of the hardest to write about. So not too long ago, yesterday really in my mind, I walked away from love. It was both the most logical and illogical decision I made. We both loved each otherย immensely. I had no doubt about that. Not for a second. But lordie were we just poison for one another.

We played this game of back and forth for many years. We lived a life of extremes. I love you. I hate you. You are my everything. You mean nothing to me. Don’t ever leave. Don’t ever come back. It was honestly very exhausting. But love will make you do stupid things. The last time was our longest consecutive time together and was probably the most painful.ย That time, we finally admitted that we loved each other.

When we met, we were so over relationships. We’d both been burned one too many times. At 32, I’d decided that I didn’t want to deal with relationships anymore. Thoughts of someday marrying someone??? Oh, hell no. I was done! Sad when I think about it, that at 32, I’d already given up. But I was so tired of hurting. My thought was if I just kept my distance, from men, from people in general, then I wouldn’t have to feel the pain of loss ever again.

And then I meet him.

We were like magnets. In every sense. There were times that we were just drawn together. I can’t put my finger on precisely why but if we were anywhere near each other, we would run into each other. Now, I live in a big city. It’s easy to get lost here if you want to. Didn’t seem to work with him. Then there were other times that, just like magnets, being anywhere near each other repelled us, shooting us in opposite directions.

Like I said, we did this for many years. Some of the pain I have chronicled here deal with him. We were together so long that there isn’t much in my life that doesn’t reminds me of him. Movies. Songs. My favorite artist we discovered together at another artist’s concert. I have a lot of good memories from our time together.

I also have a lot of gut-wrenching, pain-filled memories as well. The worst come from our last month together. It finally became too much. I made the decision to leave. It took a couple of tries but in the end, I did. And it honestly was the best decision I made when it came to our relationship. I had become an enablerย (<– perfect example at this post) to his bad behavior and bad decisions. I lost all my glitter and sparkle to try to make something work that was never meant to.

So I made one of the hardest decisions in my life. I walked away from the one person outside of my family that I loved the most.

I will say that thanks to that relationship, I am no longer cynical and closed off. I have plenty of reason to but today, I choose walk another path. I’m young. Too young to give up on life and love. I’m not actively seeking it out, but I am no longer sitting in my house, closed off to the world in an attempt to stay safe. I take any opportunity to live and make memories. Right now, they are with the best friends a person can have and with my precious children. And when it happens, I hope I am open enough to recognize it and embrace it. I just have to keep remembering that beautiful flowers do not grow in the absence of rain.

~~Til the next time…

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Addiction

“I thought we were a f*cking fairytale. But if you’re careless with something for long enough, you know, it breaks. And that’s how I feel. Broken. Completely and utterly broken.” –Karen

I’m not going to post this on Facebook. Hell, I don’t know if I will even publish this. I know this will automatically go to those that have subscribed to this strange little blog if I do, and that I am okay with, but I feel I should write this. I guess I just need to get it out of my head.

Right now, I am watching the 4th season of Californication. I love this show because first, the writing is fantastic. (If you haven’t seen it and you have delicate sensibilities, I suggest you avoid it. It is one of the more cruder shows out there.) Another reason I watch it tho, is in a way, it feels familiar. I’ve dealt with my Hank Moody’s. Yes, plural. I will say that none to the extent that Showtime shows, at least as far as I know, but the pain was all the same. I connect with Karen, his long time girlfriend. I hurt for her. I get angry with her. And I sit and wonder why.

For those not familiar, David Duchovny’s character, Hank Moody, is a sex addict, among other things. When you watch him, you learn he can’t really say no to anything. Drugs, alcohol, other people’s whims. He just does, as if on autopilot, seemingly oblivious to the pain he causes the people around him. Until that pain interrupts his life, causes him pain as well. And then you get to see a side of him that is broken, empty and screaming for something, a something that can’t be named.

And then I feel for him. My heart breaks for this adolescent trapped in a man’s body. Duchovney plays this character well, most certainly because of his own familiarity, and you get to see this side that people not closely involved rarely get to see. But I did. I know why Karen leaves and comes back. I’ve experienced others see a great guy, my great guy, and wonder why I’m angry and hurting. I’ve experience having to try and explain to my friends why I stay, why I go back when he’s hurt me so much. I’ve gotten to the point of breaking and vowed to never look back and then go running back into the same arms that shattered my heart, to give him “one more try”.

But there is just such a selfishness to addiction that can not be ignored. As many moments as I had of enjoying the kind, sweet person everyone else saw, I had many more where it was a “my way or the highway” kind of thinking. Sometimes I stayed, sometimes I left. Each time, tho, my heart broke a little more. And then I got to the point that I had nothing left to break. I remember those moments of feeling hollow as I said the words “I’m done”. I got to the point of being all “try’d” out.

In the middle of one of these relationships, I decided to start going to counseling. I was a mess. I honestly had no idea who I was. My identity became enmeshed in the battle of being a co-addict. Of hating what was going on and doing nothing to stop it. I sat in self pity and silence. I told no one of my struggles and I just let people assume whatever they wanted about me because I didn’t want anyone to “hate” him. I was just as sick as he was. I eventually left. I realized that you can’t help someone that doesn’t want it, or worse, doesn’t even realize he needs it.There was no magical person I could pretend to be that would make the situation better. His problem was not my problem to fix.

But self discovery is not about perfection. I found myself moving onto a relationship that was better but was still the same. I silenced myself to keep the peace. I walked on eggshells and lied about how bad it really was so that he didn’t feel bad about it. Thankfully, I realized it a lot faster than I had in the past and walked away, but not without scars.

Scars that ache when I watch this show because I am not just a viewer. I know this reality. I was Karen. I had my Hank. We had friends that played the roles like they do in this show.

Why do I watch, then? Because it’s everywhere. I can avoid this one show that screams of a problem that surrounds us, but that is the truth. It surrounds us. Remember Tiger? He wasn’t just a manwhore. He was a broken shell of a man that resembled someone of great confidence and power. And there are millions more like him that will never see their shame displayed on the tabloids for all to see.

I can run from a painful past, but then how do I celebrate the person I am today? That pain shaped me. The pain of my past allows me to fully celebrate the good I have today. It helps me appreciate the great relationships I have right now. It pushes me to appreciate authenticity as opposed to perfection. It gives me a greater sense of what true happiness really feels like.

So, I will watch. I will continue to face my anger and pain while watching a show I genuinely enjoy. And I will heal a little more everyday.

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Just trust me…

Trust. It’s such a precarious thing. I enjoy people who say to me “just trust me” followed by a casual wave of the hand. I especially like it coming from the ones that I’ve just met. It’s often followed with “have I ever let you down?”. Ummm, why no. No, you haven’t. But then again, I met you 5 minutes ago. ๐Ÿ™‚

I think that if you asked most of my friends, they would say that I’m a pretty trusting person. And then they would all be wrong. ๐Ÿ™‚ I am the type of person that will give people a chance, some more than others, but I’m far from the trusting type. Actually, what I am thinking on the inside is “you’re going to let me down”. With most relationships, it’s a constant battle for me to stay engaged because I have a cute little devil in disguise, dancing around my head, singing “this will never work. this will never work.” Insert sh*t kickers and a mandolin and I’m all but sold.

But I choose to fight to stay engaged and here’s why.

Some relationships have faded away as our time together just came to a natural end. Some ended in explosive, hurt filled rants that can only be healed with space and the passing of time. Others were an agreement that we just didn’t get along and it was time to move on. While others were a one sided ending of the relationship for whatever reason, but still peaceful. With all these relationships I learned something valuable and I don’t regret any of them.

But the reason I choose to fight the devil inside is because of the relationships I still do have. I consider myself a very lucky person because I have a lot of great friends, some of those I count as best friends. They are not only my best friends, but I think of them as family. I have a couple extra sisters and brothers. How many people can honestly say that? I talk to two of my friends every day. We aren’t just friends, we live life together. And I am grateful for them.

And I trust them wholeheartedly. I TRUST them as defined above. When I am with these friends, I feel like I am at home with family. There are no pretenses. I don’t have to act, look or speak a certain way for them to like me. They like every part of my silly, outspoken, imperfect, broken little self. I don’t feel like I have to be strong and perfect to be with them ‘cuz God knows I am far from either.

I think I mostly knew that but last weekend cemented it for me. I was having a rough couple days. One night I was sitting on the back porch with one of these friends, quietly crying. We would exchange sentences, little thoughts back and forth and we would just sit, me with my wine and her with her tea. I could see the concern on my friend’s face. I know most of it was her wish to make it all better for me. To find the magical combination of actions to make the pain go away. Little did she know that she was doing just that.

I don’t like to cry. Most people that know me have probably never seen me cry. I fight the urge so badly that when I do, it is often followed by a horrible headache from the effort to keep the tears at bay. And it’s all because I don’t trust people. I don’t trust that they will not judge me. I don’t trust that they will not blame me. I don’t trust them to care for me. Honestly, I don’t trust that they care.

But that night, as the tears flowed freely, I trusted. I believed. I had confidence. I knew, in the presence of sweet family, I was safe. Safe to cry. Safe to talk. Safe to be.

So, sweet friend, you know who you are, you did find the magical combination, which turned out not to be so magical after all. What little trust I had for people in general grew that night because of the great trust I have in you. Not because you knew the right things to say or because you figured out just what to do. It was all because you provided the safety and the care that was your back porch to a hurting, needy friend. I left that night knowing, regardless of the outcome of my situation, I was going to be alright because I had people I could trust with my heart. You are a light that shines in the darkest of my thoughts. Thanks for being there to chase away the devil with me.

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Who are you when I’m not looking?

In the last couple of weeks, I’ve had some very curious incidents that have sprouted up that reminded me about a blog posting that I had read a couple of months ago. I’ve actually gone back and forth on writing this posting because I wondered about how people would perceive thisย  but then I remembered that I really am not one that is too worried about perception and ironically, the incidents all have to do with perception so here goes. ๐Ÿ™‚

Single is just where I find myself these days. And by single, I mean I am not married, nor am I living with anyone. I am dating someone, though.

That has seemed to cause a stir within some people. And not how I would have thought. Here is a little excerpt of the blog that I reread this morning which you can find in its entirety here. I think it explains the phenomenon I’m facing right now the best. The title of the post is Domestic Enemies of the Single Mom. Enjoy! ๐Ÿ™‚

Next on deck, the evil Married who is threatened by our very presence and is a judgment filled B from the time you first meet her. Sheโ€™s usually found at school functions and neighborhood block parties. She may smile and say hello but she secretly believes that the big S you wear on your chest is not for Super Woman, which it is, but instead for her much more sinister twin sister, Super Slut. The Scarlet Letter Marrieds will go out of their way to avoid you for fear that your singlemomness is contagious or that you may eat men, or more specifically, their men. I believe in making nice though so to win these particular Marrieds over just smile and sweetly mention how handsome their husband is. Just kidding. No Iโ€™m not. OK so itโ€™s not nice but you totally catch more stuck up self righteous flies with honey. I was raised in the south so of this I am certain, we have manners.

The rest of the blog is filled with stuff written much in the same manner as the above, all of which I agree with it. As off kilter as my filter is, it still catches some of the things I probably should keep to myself. This girl lets it all hang out and for that, I am grateful. ๐Ÿ™‚

So now my perspective. First and foremost, I do not now, nor will I in the future, want your man. I can find my own, thank you very much. And I also live by “I do not date my friend’s ex’s or my ex’s friends”, which also includes the man you are currently dating. And second, singleness is not contagious. If I sneeze, the worst you may get is the flu, which sucks, but will not end in the destruction of your marriage. But I am finding out that there are some women who believe that one of these two scenarios could happen if they spent too much time with me.

I will not go into the specifics of the situations, but I can tell you I was shocked every time. The funny thing is that the person they see is not the person I actually am. For the most part, I am pretty put together with the crazy red hair and the makeup, clothes and heels. But the reality of who I am is that I would wear jeans and a t-shirt and my favorite pair of flip flops all day, everyday if I could. And as much as I can, I do. On Saturday mornings, I run errands with no makeup on and my hair in a ponytail or pulled through a ball cap and feel exactly as I would if I was fully done up. I am not here to impress anyone and honestly, I have neither the time nor energy to worry about it. If you like me, good. If you don’t, good. We weren’t all made to like one another and I’m okay with that.

And this self confidence that I walk around with came with years upon years of therapy and hard work. I got tired of being either Eeyore or a crazed lunatic so I made changes. And by no means am I anywhere near to being perfect. That day will never come. I could spend hours picking apart the tiny little things I don’t like about myself. Things most people are not aware of or could care less about, but that would mean regressing into a person I no longer want to be so I choose not to. But I will tell you, on my bad days, and yes I do have them, when I look in the mirror, I do not see the person anyone else sees. Hell, on my good days, I don’t either! And ask anyone that has had a real relationship with me, friends or lovers, I have flaws…in spades. Wanna know some? Google the song “Who are you when I’m not looking?” by Joe Nichols. About sums me up. ๐Ÿ™‚

So, no, I will not eat your man if he comes near me and no, your wedding ring will not instantly vanish if you brush up against me. But if you take the time to know me, really know me, we may end up great friends with a lot in common or at least somewhat friends that are excited to see each other once in a while. I guess the old adage is true…Never judge a book by its cover. To which I’d like to add…the pages are probably just as busted and torn as all the others. ๐Ÿ™‚

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Today was supposed to be easier????

I came into boot camp this morning and was talking to my coach, Greg, and one of the things he told me was that in talking to another coach, they had decided that his class and another coach’s class needed 1 easy day a week. Woohoo!!!! I was so down for that. Fortunately for me, today was the day that he decided was going to be an easy day. Again, WOO! HOO! I was very tired from not sleeping enough the previous 2 nights so I was all about an easy day.

We ran our two laps, did our stretching and lined up to get instruction from Greg. Yeeeeeeah, today ended up not being an easy day. Greg told us all to get a barbell and add weights. Ummmmm, if my arms were any smaller, I don’t think they would qualify as arms, so the barbell is more than heavy enough for me. I walked into the free weight area and grabbed a barbell and started to walk back out onto the field. Greg stopped me.

“Tina! You need weights, too. That is only 25 lbs!”

Really, Greg?!?!?! Have you seen my arms? Just in case you forgot, I get called Olive Oyl by my classmates. Yeah, this girl!

Hot, isn’t she???

So I went and set my barbell on the line and walked back into the weight area and grabbed two 10 lbs weights, went back and clamped them onto my barbell. Now, I’ve gone from 25 lbs to 45 lbs. Oh, man! This may not end well. In the two months that I’ve been doing boot camp, it has not involved weights like this. I just kept envisioning my arms giving out and all 45 lbs come crashing down on top of my head. Oh and profuse amounts of blood. Eep!!

First set of exercises: RDL and on your way up bring the barbell to your chest (it has a name, I just don’t remember it ๐Ÿ™‚ ). Lower back down to the waist and RDL again. This was 10 times and then run.

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Second set: Squat with barbell at chest level and go straight into overhead press. The first one was fine. The other nine was difficult. Remember…Olive Oyl. 10 times and then run some more.

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Third set: Sumo deadlift (left picture) into upright row (right picture). Not as bad as the second set but my arms are really startingย toย hurt! 10 times and run again.

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Fourth set: Squats with barbell behind the neck (Left) then go into good morning (below). 10 times and then run 2 laps.

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After that, we did it twice more, some ab work and then ran for 10 minutes. Well, some ran, I couldn’t since I’m still not supposed to until this weekend. My body is HURTING right now. I don’t think Greg and I have the same definition of easy. This morning was different for sure, but easy…noooooo. Thanks, Greg, for making it look like I never really learned how to walk correctly and for just pretty much killing my body. I’m sure tomorrow will be a blast!!! ๐Ÿ˜‰

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Pain…with visual :)

So Friday I missed boot camp because I thought it was Thursday and therefore I justified my sleeping in with “I can catch the evening class”. Well, when I woke up and realized that it was not Thursday, but in fact Friday, I also remembered that there was not a Friday pm class to go to. Dang it! Later that night I got a Facebook message from my coach Greg that said that the 10am Saturday class had been canceled. Dang it! Dang it! He also said that I could catch the 6am or 7am class if I wanted. So I set my alarm for 6:15am so that I could do the 7am class the next morning. When the alarm rang, my only thought was why am I waking up this stinking early on a Saturday and rolled over and went back to bed. I mean, it wasn’t my fault that I wasn’t going to make the 10am class, right? Then there is Sunday. There are no classes on Sunday. So for three days, I did not do boot camp. I did no workout whatsoever. Even worse, I ate like crap. Uh huh!! I was not looking forward to returning to boot camp Monday morning.

Which brings me to the lovely picture at the top of this post. I decided that to explain my pain for Monday morning was just not going to be enough. I figured a visual would help cement the fun I had at 5am. We did our normal 2 laps around the field with stairs followed by stretching. Already I was winded. Oh, no! It didn’t help that it was hotter than hell in there. I can’t WAIT until the actual summer when I get to work out in what I imagine will feel like an oven. ๐Ÿ™‚ So here is the breakdown of my workout. This took about 45 minutes…straight…with no break.

Start at Tina face 1: 10 push-ups (modified for me because my arms resemble Olive Oyl’s)

Run to Tina face 2: 10 push-ups (again modified because I’m a wimp)

Run to Tina face 3: 10 push-ups

Run to Tina face 4: 10 push-ups

Not bad, right? Right! Lap 2 involved those same 10 push-ups at each corner followed by 15 in-and-outs (think mountain climber, but instead of alternating legs, you do both legs at the same time. I like them better. ๐Ÿ™‚ )

Lap 3: 10 push-ups at each corner, 15 in-and-outs, and now add 20 body squats…at each corner.

Lap 4: 10 push-ups, 15 in-and-outs, 20 body squats, 25 crunches…AT EACH CORNER!!

Oh did I mention that I had to run from each corner to the next. Yeah. I did. You’re tired aren’t you?? So was I! And dripping with sweat because if there was a sub-level of hell that was hotter than hell, I was working out there. I. CAN’T. BREEEEEEEATHE!

Aaaand….wait for it….we weren’t done. *twirl and faint*

We then had to start at Lap 4 and work our way back down the ladder to lap one. Running in between. In the sub-level of hell. I was sucking down water every time I passed my water bottle, hoping that would help cool me down. All it did was make me notice that each time I took a drink, my water seemed warmer. Whatever. Hydrate, Hydrate, Hydrate!!

Love my coach tho! I know, crazy right?? The whole time I heard “Go, go, go”. “You’re doing great!” And the one phrase that kicked my ass in gear. “Beat them.” I’m a little competitive and for the most part, I am competitive with myself. I want to beat what I did last time. Run faster. Do more squats. More push ups. Stay in plank longer. Whatever. But there is also a part of me that hates being last. So yesterday when Greg whispered “beat them”, all I could think of was “Hell YES!” The last two laps were done faster than I would have if I had kept the pace I was going just prior to that. And I beat them!! ๐Ÿ™‚

Just in case you weren’t keeping track of just how many of each thing we did, let me break it down for you.

320 Push-ups (even modified, that sucked!)

360 In-and Outs (wasn’t so bad)

320 Body Squats (thighs. burning. ow!)

200 Crunches (just ow!)

After I was done, I looked like the little blue stick figure in the picture above. Sprawled out on the turf, breathing heavy, but done. Oh and I was NOT smiling. ๐Ÿ˜‰ I was supposed to be doing ab work but my body told me no so I did what I could and laid there the rest of the time. BUT, and big, big BUT, with only having gone for 2 months, I’ve seen a huge difference. I have muscles that I never knew existed. I’m a lot stronger than I was. And by the time it’s bathing suit season, I will be more than ready. Dying, sweating, unable to breathe, slowly cooking in the crazy southern heat, I’m getting the results I want and more. LOVE D1, my coach and my results. ๐Ÿ™‚ LOVE THEM!!!!

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Ow, my abs!!!

And my biceps. And my triceps. And lats and quads and hamstrings. Yeah…pretty much every part of my body, but my abs are KILLING me! Still!

On Thursday, I decided to take the mid-day extreme class at D1 and today is the first day that I can laugh without instantly regretting it. The majority of Thursday wasn’t so bad until I laid down to take a nap. When I woke up, the pain in my muscles was a little ridiculous. Having participated in D1 for almost 2 months now, I knew that the pain I was feeling on Thursday was nothing compared to what I was going to feel the next day. And sure enough, I woke up at 4:15a to go to my normal boot camp class and I wanted to die. The warm up run hurt. The stretching really hurt and the next 45 minutes of actual exercise had me all but screaming in pain. The ab work at the end of the class had me wishing for death. The only saving grace was seeing 2 friendly faces from the Saturday and occasional weekday 6p class. But then there was the laughing and that was just not okay!

Okay, so why was this extreme class different and more painful than mine. Well one, it is lead by a different coach. Chris and Greg’s methods are completely different. Greg’s routines hurt, don’t get me wrong. That is why I am in a constant state of sore. But I think it may be that I am in no way used to how Chris leads the class. He ran one of my 5a classes to cover for Greg and WOW it hurt. I tried to explain to my friend, Kris, just two hours later what we did and I honestly think I blacked out due to pain and exhaustion because I couldn’t remember half of what we did but my body sure did! I’ve also done a couple of Saturdays where Chris and Greg co-lead the class and all I can say is that it is just crazy. CRAZY!!!! Today was one of those Saturdays. With my abs still killing me, I spent the majority of the hour suffering. I was glad I went, like always, but S-U-F-F-E-R-I-N-G!

Another reason is that since I started, there have been several conversations about me doing this class and taking down Sam. Okay, so those conversations were mostly between Sam and I. But there are also some of the D1 staff that, I believe, find great enjoyment in me being in miserable pain and the thought of me taking this particular class just put them over the edge. ๐Ÿ™‚ So with my car tags expiring in the month of March, I decided to take the day off to get that and some other errands done and to also finally take this class and take down Sam. Geeeeeeeeez!!!! Like the 5a class that Chris lead, I couldn’t tell you most of what we did but I know that my body is very, very angry at me. It has got to be the hardest class I have taken so far (Sorry, Greg, but WHOA!).

Another side is that I had been talking much s*** so I had to go hard. I couldn’t blah, blah, blah and then fall out halfway through the class. Or even worse, quit. Once I had decided on the date that I was going to take the class, I started asking Greg and eventually Chris what it was going to be like. I even asked other members that took the class. Most told me that I would be fine, which I have found is the kiss of death at D1. You’ll be fine means you’re going to die. ๐Ÿ™‚ At least Chris was honest. He told me that I would at least still be breathing. Greeeeeeat!! So I showed up and pushed myself and every time I wanted to give in, I just told myself “GO!!!!” And when I wasn’t telling myself go, I had another coach, Esther, doing the class with me and telling me go. And of course there was Greg. I don’t know if he was trying to be motivational but he most certainly was yelling “Go, Tina!!” Yeah, probably not for motivation, but it worked. ๐Ÿ™‚ I didn’t take down, Sam. Not even close. But I didn’t give up either. And like Chris said, I at least walked out breathing.

After it was over, I got a high five and was asked what I thought. I told them it was fun (yes, as painful as it was, it was a lot of fun!!) but I was not coming back. Noooooo thank you! I did it. I felt accomplished. I’m good! Like I’ve said before, I am all about consistency and I like my routine. Saturdays with Chris is already hard enough. I’ll just see him then. I think to go back to his extreme class would involve a bump on the head and amnesia about my pain that day and the days following. Sadly, as I was writing that, I knew that last statement was wrong. I’ll be back. I know it. Next day I take off will undoubtedly involve Chris’ class but as I lay here on my couch praying that I don’t have to cough or sneeze, I think once was more than enough.

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I’m not playing with you anymore. :p

I’m not playing with Greg anymore! I think he is trying to kill me. Unless he’s reading this and then Greg you are AWESOME! My favorite person! Loves ya for real! Now stop reading…

Boot camp today was rough. When I first started, we had a schedule. Monday-arms, Tuesday-cardio, Wednesday-legs, Thursday-cardio, Friday-total body. If I missed a class during the week, I went Saturday, which seemed to be a free for all, depending on who led the class. At this point, I’ve taken at least one class from each coach so I kinda know what to expect when I walk in and see which coach is leading on a Saturday. Most are doable. Greg and Chris, the other extreme coach, even dialed back, hurt, though. The two of them together is about a mile away from hell.This past Saturday was the second time that I did boot camp with the both of them leading and I hurt that night…bad. My legs were shaking most of the night. Chris is Sam’s 11am coach. The class that I am going to take next Thursday. Eep! I asked the both of them about their method after class on Saturday when we were just hanging out and talking. I was trying to find out how bad it was going to be for me. Greg is less reps but a lot of weights. Chris is heavy on the reps and little weights.

Well, in the midst of the conversation, Greg didn’t like something I said and decided to turn the dial way up for the Monday workout. Too bad I slept in that day. ๐Ÿ™‚ My classmates, though, took the brunt of my punishment. I went to the 6pm class that day and did just fine other than my knee and hamstring hurting me. Tuesday’s cardio class was brutal. We did 100 yards of plate pushes with a total of 515 yards of sprints. Don’t know what plate pushes are? Google it. It’s not fun. Push 5 yards then run down the field and back, push 5 more yards and run, push 5 more yards and run, and so on. When I got back to the start, I pushed the plate over the line and immediately went down to the ground and just laid there. That was our first set of exercises and we weren’t even to the halfway point of the class.

Then came this morning. Greg has decided to do away with leg and arm days and make those total body as well. Which means total body pain. When I got there this morning, he told me that it was going to be bad. Greeeeeat! I kinda already knew though. I saw him last night when I went to go get my runner’s stick that Sam had left for me earlier that day and while we were talking I mentioned that I had blogged about him. I also told him everything was nice. Well, I should have reread my blogs before saying that because as he was reading it on his little Ipad, I hear him say “Justin Beiber, huh?” Uuuuuum, whoops. I quickly picked up my phone and start looking for posts where I said nice things about him and started reading off titles. It was too late. Dang it!! ๐Ÿ˜ฆ

As of right now, I have my runner’s stick and I am massaging my legs because they hurt. Really, really bad. Even gently rolling the stick on my leg kills. Tomorrow is cardio which means even more pain. I hope the hours of using the stick will get me back to a somewhat decent level so that I don’t have to skip. Chris is leading the class on Saturday which means it will be far from easy and I will probably be unable to breathe afterwards. Not exactly how I want to spend my Saturday morning. From now on, I’m only saying nice things about Greg and I will cuss him in my head. What am I saying…I’m incapable of that. Oh, well. Bring on the pain, I guess. Maybe he won’t read this anymore. ๐Ÿ™‚ Here’s hoping…..

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