fear

When I started my fitness journey I had made a promise to my son I would get healthy. It was hard. I remember being on that treadmill at a whopping 3.8 miles an hour pushing so hard to work up to two miles at a time. Then, I always knew I pushed hard when on the way home I would break out in hives. To this day, none of my medical colleagues can tell my why in those moments I would have such a huge histamine release, but I did. Here I sit, two years later, many more training sessions behind me and have not experienced that in a very long time. However, it is stuff like this that seemed to provoke fear. Would I anaphylax and stop breathing?  Couple this with my history of terrible obesity fueling previous difficult exercise attempts. I had fear of wheezing, fear of sweating too much, fear of looking silly, the list was endless. In talking with a team 1DOS member yesterday who was trying to figure out how to push harder it suddenly dawned on me that every harder thing we attempt is limited solely by fear.

I started to think about all the things I was afraid of along the way. Would I hurt my shoulder if I tried a heavier weight despite being more than comfortable with what I was lifting at the time. Truthfully, I pushed past that through a trainer laughing and telling me to lift heavier, thus fueling my fear of looking silly. I was afraid for a time if I rowed harder I would pass out. Well that is possible, but I could probably go a bit harder than I was and not pass out. Little by little. Fear after fear. Slowly putting them to rest until I got pretty comfortable with making progress. The hives went away and I found myself in a good place. Chugging along like the Little Engine That Could. Small gains every week, new goals set. Over and over.

Then came today. A Spartan workout. Two hours of Spartan training by Spartan trainers. Yep I could do that. I did a 90 minute Orangetheory yesterday. I got this. Then I got the email. The confirmation of today's adventure. Um. This workout was partially outside. Um. It is Syracuse. It is December. Outside?  Enter fear. Yesterday, watching the several inches of snow fall I got really worried. I had no idea if we would be in a park or a parking lot or what. But the Batman to my Robin, my son was going. I simply could not bail out on him. So, I did my best to dress in layers and try to be ready.

We got up early, 5:30, as Syracuse is a 2 hour drive. I guess it was a good thing the snow had stopped.....maybe not such a great thing it was replaced by freezing rain. The drive up just fueled my concern. On arriving, we found the hosting gym was a warehouse gym on the fourth floor of this old industrial building. It was painted black with rings a ropes hanging from the ceiling. Yep a badass gym. We were told at the door we would be outside for half the workout. Well, that meant parking lot. I spent the first half worrying about what being outside would be. It was cold. It was wet. It was a light mist of a rain. I would soon find out.

The trainer outlined the core Spartan exercises and several of them involved being on the ground. I looked around at the puddles and slush and it seemed terrifying. Pretty soon it was time. I would realize doing diamond push-ups on cold wet concrete with numb fingers and wet hair from the rain that those people who told me in the beginning that I was capable of so much more just may have been right. People knowing I was doing this,  did laugh at me today. Why on earth would I get up at 5 in the morning, drive two hours to workout in the snow and rain today? Because I am finally learning that there is something amazing that lives on the other side of my biggest fears and sometimes that means spending a little time doing burpees in the snow.

Finding the Hero

A few days ago I walked into my bedroom to find "Underdog" playing on TV. I chuckled to myself as I thought about how somehow there is something magical about the master bedroom for kids. Something completely different about laying in the king sized bed and watching TV instead of the giant TV in the family room. I remember doing the same in my parents' room. I chose the little black and white for the chance to lay on the king sized waterbed over the pre remote era color Zenith that sat firmly on the multi shaded brown shag carpet in the family room. That thing was probably 4 million pounds. Somehow being in that bedroom made me feel more important. Nonetheless, it got me thinking about superheroes . The transformation of a mild mannered, nearly invisible person to an epic crime fighter performing physical feats.  We all love that story and have heard it in many varieties. It is the stuff of blockbuster movies.

On this fitness journey I guess you could say I was the underdog. Decades of obesity and epic fails with my own health. There are many others like me out there. The Shoeshine Boys, Clark Kents and Peter Parkers of our time. The unassuming nerds that never seemed like they could go places. Some of us keep ourselves in that place, believing the voices in our heads that start with,"I can't..." while others learn to take off the obligatory white button down shirt and discover the superhero like insignia on our chests. I suppose if I could figure out a magical formula to give to people to be able to easily make that leap I would be a millionaire. Maybe Peter Parker could send me the magical spider that transformed his world.....

For me, it has been learning what I was actually capable of versus what I thought I was capable of. In my world that came from a variety of sources. Friends who had traveled this road and trainers who I originally thought were nuts with how confident they were in my abilities. Little by little my figurative white shirt began to open up to reveal there was a higher caliber of person underneath, capable of so much more.  I may not leap tall buildings or swing from a web but I learned I can climb 10 foot walls and cross some cool monkey bars without falling into a pit of mud. The funny thing is I could not do that when the same style bars were on the playground at my grade school, or maybe it was just I had no idea I could.  Each muddy challenge, every bump and bruise and even the shear terror of some of the challenges have begun to help me find the best version of myself.

So if I could open up that shirt to reveal my superhero chest what would it be?  As a true child of the 80's I suppose it would be a Linda Carter style Wonder Woman ensemble, however, sadly the good people of Victoria's Secret have not busted into the superhero fashion world, which to be fair, is probably more a blessing than a curse. If they had I may end up the cover page of the people of Wal Mart.

Nonetheless, learning to not settle for mild mannered persona, somehow not capable of more has been a journey. One I am still working on. There are still the days I need to take myself back, lay in my own king sized bed, watching the smaller TV and finding my own importance just like the kids. I am only grateful now to not have the tiny black and white with rabbit ears.

Paying it Forward

I seemed to have had a small hiatus from blogging. Since the epic Spartan Race a lot has happened.  I have found some other lifetime non athletes to take on the Chicago Super. We have become a ragtag team each with our own fitness story to tell. Each one of us coming from a different unhealthy place for a variety of reasons. Slowly but surely our team has grown in just one month's time. We have learned to become accountable to one another and encourage one another and now every last one of us is financially committed to this 8-11 mile race.

This single thing had me thinking about public journeys. Going public with my journey was a bit like being naked at Wal Mart on Black Friday. Terrifying. Vulnerable. We all end up on this journey due to some sort of failing or pain and to make it all public is the chance to relive it all and be rejected all over again. Yet I have found something different entirely.

Our team is 1DOS.  One degree of separation. A teammate deemed me the "Kevin Bacon" of the group as all members know me from a different place. As it turns out, a friend not on the team knows Kevin and let him know about our team and apparently he is now in our corner too....no pressure there. Only Kevin Bacon watching. Well as my friend explained he texted Kyra as Kevin is not great about answering. Ok wait.... Kyra Sedgwick?  Well 1DOS would not let her down either....hopefully.

This week our team has grown to seven members. Seven terrified people risking public physical failure and staying on a path none of us have been able to stay on before. Seeing everyone's gains is awe inspiring as everyone pushes a wee bit harder each day to do the team proud.

With all this I was finally able to answer a lifelong question. Why?  Why am I fighting obesity?  Why am I bullied? Why can I not do this?  Decades of anguish.  Decades of failure. Now I am able to take that and use it to drag others along this path.  Seeing the excitement in their posts, the enthusiasm over our big race which by all rights none of us thought we could do makes every last bit of this lifelong battle absolutely worth it. My ability to pay this forward this holiday season is truly a gift and a constant reminder that once again the best is yet to come.

So hiatus is over. Time to get this blog moving again as Team 1DOS has a story to tell and we have only started chapter one. AROO!