The Woman in the Arena

 Two weeks ago, I hit a big goal for myself and finally benched 135 lbs. Being able to put a plate on the bar was something I had seen other people in my training crew do for so long, and I wanted to do that too, probably for an equal sense of belonging and pride. Going into the next week with confidence, I loaded the bar with the same plate, and it didn't move. Cue the negative self talk. But, this time, instead of hearing my own criticizing voice, I heard the familiar voices of the guys I train with each week: Rob, Mike, Tom, Austin, and Tim.  Rob, whenever I start to list all of the reasons I can't bench, squat, or deadlift a certain weight, you stop me mid-spiral to say, "of course you can," as if it's absurd to have anything but confidence in my abilities. Considering that I used to put my wrist wraps on backwards, your unwavering belief that I belong in the gym and alongside you in a workout is pretty remarkable. You hold up the mirror that allows me to see ...

My muscles have had a mind of their own these last couple weeks during my squat workout, so I went online to find some videos of exercises or stretches I could add to my routine, and a few things stood out to me during that search:  The language surrounding exercise and disability has shifted from “fixing” a muscle to “improving” a muscle, and that is a huge win. As a kid in Physical Therapy, I often felt like exercises were presented as a way to fix whatever muscle wasn’t working properly, and I get it, exercises are created in order to change muscles. But, when I look at the titles of these newer exercise programs, they use phrases like “improving hip mobility” and “maximizing function.” That change in language emphasizes exercise as a means of maintaining health versus fixing an impairment, which does so much for a person’s sense of bodily autonomy.  The increase in accessibility of exercises to empower people with disabilities is a welcome change from when I was younger, b...

Since activist Stella Young coined the term "inspiration porn" in 2014, there's been debate about what it is, why it is harmful, and who  experiences it. Generally, inspiration porn is the portrayal of people with disabilities as inspirational solely on the basis of their disability. It often comes in the form of quotes that read something like, "If they can do it, so can you!" or "What's your excuse?" as the person is doing some sort of physical activity. Recently, a man named Carson Tueller was a guest on one of my favorite podcasts, We Can Do Hard Things. Carson is a man who was paralyzed from the chest down following an accident involving a gymnastics tumble. He talked very openly about what inspiration porn meant to him, so I thought I would share my perspective on it as well.   First, I started this blog to share my experiences as a person with Cerebral Palsy who is also a powerlifter. I post videos, celebrate milestones, and vent about frust...

When I first started writing, I decided to call my blog The Woman in the Arena because I loved how Brene Brown, with some inspiration from Teddy Roosevelt, described an arena as this space that is created when we decide to challenge ourselves in a new way. But, here’s the thing. We are never alone when we decide to take on a new challenge, even in a sport like powerlifting that on the surface appears to involve the one person on the bench, in the squat rack, or in front of the deadlift bar. Recently, the way that my program is designed just has me feeling incredibly grateful for the people in my arena.   Last Friday, my bench workout for the night included three singles down to a board–one rep, three times. In this circumstance, as in most, that one rep requires at least four people in my corner: someone to help me rack the weight, someone to spot me, someone to hold the board, and at least one person yelling (read: encouraging) at me. It might take me just a few seconds to mo...

For me, mirrors are often unwelcome spotlights; they highlight the awkward angles and rigid movements of my muscles, acting as a painful reminder that I cannot outwork Cerebral Palsy. Most days I can make peace that, and other days it knocks the wind out of me. I was recently listening to a podcast with author James Clear about his newest book Atomic Habits. One of the prominent ideas in this book is that we should strive to build habits out of the qualities we want to develop rather than the things we want to achieve. Overtime, these habits will only grow stronger because they are based upon values instead of results. After listening to this podcast, I started to think about the qualities of a strong person, and thinking about these qualities has slowly helped me to construct an image of strength that has nothing to do with physicality. I think that overtime, this image will be what I see in the mirror instead of a collection of qualities outside of my control. That being said, here ...

I had to laugh when I looked up and saw this quote on the wall at F3 last week. I have a version of this tattooed on my arm (tabula rasa; "blank slate" in Latin) and the reminder still seems to find me wherever I go when I need it the most-- Don't like the story? Change the narrative.  Then I came across this Brene Brown quote about how our strengths and things we want to change are on the same continuum. We can use our strengths to help reframe things about ourselves that we want to improve. Starting a new chapter does not mean erasing or distorting the stories we've already been writing, it means building upon what we have learned in order to write a stronger, braver, or more honest narrative in the future.  When I think about my story as a powerlifter, here are some things I am actively working on changing and the [strengths] that I think are born out of them.   1. I overthink things, repeat every cue, and try to change too many things at once in order to get som...

“You’ve got the wrong picture of yourself, Elsa. No matter how far you’ve come, you bring that mirror with you. Break it…remember, I’m a mirror too.”  This fictional conversation in Kristin Hannah’s “The Four Winds” has stuck with me for the past 6 months since I first read it. I’ve found myself re-visiting it recently, so I thought I would write about why I find it so uplifting and so difficult at the same time.  Last week, my squats were a lot tougher than usual. I had accidentally packed the wrong shoes (too squishy), my legs were tired from a same-day bench workout, and I find it very hard to watch myself on video when it comes to how my legs and hips move. As much as I know that watching myself is helpful for correcting my form, sometimes it makes me want to jump out of my skin. This passage reminds me that when I start to feel that way, I am looking at myself through a mirror that is broken–one where my muscle weakness gets warped into a character flaw, even though my lo...