The Woman in the Arena

Try again. Don't give up. Just keep going. There are a million ways to say "you've got this," and this is my effort to add to that list in the least cliche way possible. The name of my gym is F3 Fitness--Form Follows Function, but recently the pattern of my lifts has been a different F3-- Failure, Failure Fire. (read: I am "failing" or "learning" 2/3 of the time). That is exactly what happened tonight. My bench has been up and down for a while now, and I used my last blog post as a personal vent session about what I thought was a lack of progress. Thankfully, as he always does, my trainer Clay Brandenburg knew exactly what to say when sending me this week's workouts: "Let's try this one more time," three singles at 120 lbs, something I haven't been able to achieve for the last 2 weeks. This week, it took me 5 tries, but I did get 3 singles, I just failed 2 times in the process. Afterwards, I snapped a pic of my favorite part o...

 A few years ago, I read a book called “Grit” by Angela Duckworth, and the chapters were a little too repetitive for me. This past week, I got to revisit the book’s ideas when the author was a guest on one of my favorite podcasts, Dare to Lead. Duckworth defined “grit” as passion + perseverance. I loved this definition for two reasons—it negates the idea that being gritty means sticking with something to prove a point (even if we hate it) and reinforces the idea that in order to call ourselves “gritty,”  we need to be in it for the long haul, whatever that “it” is for each of us.  Earlier this week, I was unable to bench 125, a weight that was 5 pounds more than what I benched 3 months ago, and I was ready; my feet were planted, back arched, and wrists straight...it barely moved. When I tried again, it barely moved. Afterwards, I was ticked. Three months and I couldn’t add 5 lbs? Then I thought of Angela, and told myself to get grittier. I decided to focus on the fact tha...

 I used to save a quote on my phone that said "Don't stop until you're proud." When I first read it, I saw it as motivation to keep working towards goals I set for myself both in the gym and at work. Recently though, what I used to think of as motivation has become this overwhelming pressure to keep moving toward a bigger goal, so that when I say I'm proud of something, it feels like I earned it. The result of this thought process is that I am constantly comparing where I am to where I "should be," and completely forgetting to celebrate the accomplishments that are all part of a larger goal. Luckily, I have nights like tonight at the gym when, because of the infectious energy of the people around me, I can put down the weight of my goals in exchange for some weight on the bar, and that has me feeling strong, grateful, and proud. Here are a couple of videos from a few weeks back:                          ...

Last night was my first experience with deadlifting, the third part of powerlifting. It made me think about how many times someone has asked how long I've been doing these workouts, and I immediately respond by saying, "I bench, but not like these guys (and girls!) do," or "I'm starting to squat, but only with the safety bar," as if I cannot acknowledge something positive in myself without a bit of self- deprecation. The thing is, when that bit of self-deprecation goes un-checked, it really does a number on my self-esteem. That being said, my focus for the past couple of weeks has been changing that inner dialogue, and that has made me feel pretty damn strong:  "A deadlift sitting down... is still a deadlift."  "I fell forward with the safety bar this week...because I added 20 pounds on my back"  "That bar moved pretty slowly...it still moved" "I am a powerlifter." The way you speak to yourself matters. 115 for 3 reps ...

  This week, I am moving from belt squats to squats with chains (5x3 with 40 lbs) to prep for eventual work with the safety bar Goals for next time: Stop the "Hunchback of Notre Dame" vibe I have going at the end of each rep, stay tight, and warm up with my feet halfway off of small floor plates to keep my heels from popping up, particularly on the left side Week 3 of the 4x8 with 90 lbs: Continuing to focus on maintaining an arch and pressing my feet to the floor, which is trickier on the left side because of my constant ankle inversion. Finding the right spot to plant my feet on the plates has been key. If I start to slide, I squeeze the bench. Goal for next time: Solid form from start. 

   “The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena...who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly.” Theodore Roosevelt, “The Man in the Arena” Although it was Teddy Roosevelt who spoke these words in 1910, it was author and researcher Brené Brown who introduced me to the concept of the arena, or the space created when people are faced with new challenges. Over the past year, the gym has become one of my arenas. Each week that I bench or squat, I bring my Cerebral Palsy along with me, sometimes as a partner and sometimes as an opponent. I am starting this blog to share very honestly what happens in my arena--imperfect form, occasional impostor syndrome, falling down (sometimes literally), and trying again. I hope that in the process of sharing, people take away something that helps them navigate through their own arenas.