Hit Me With Your Best Shot

Put up your dukes,

Lets get down to it,

Why don't you hit me with your best shot,

fire away

                        -Pat Benetar

Ah the stylings of 80's rock princess Pat Benetar.  One of the greater things about satellite radio is always being able to find big haired rock at the drop of a hat.  So, The 80's on 8 is what I chose the other morning for my 6:00 am hour and a half commute leading into my twelve hour shift.  This particular song brought back memories of the eight years I spent training and teaching tae kwon do in my 30's.  Six of those years were spent climbing through the ranks of black belt winding up at 3rd degree when we moved to another state.

You don't fight fair,

But that's ok, see if I care,

Knock me down, it's all in vain,

I'll get back on my feet again

As an instructor you learn there are two types of fighters.  The lower ranking colored belt fighters that aimed to hit with as much force as they could possibly muster.  They would take illegal shots, and pretty much do anything to take their opponent down.  Then there were the higher black belt ranks who sparred with control.  They were fast.  They had learned to look for openings and place the kicks and punches strategically to take out the other guy with a low expenditure of energy relatively speaking.  Make no mistake about it, these people could hit just as hard.  In fact, they often did when the lower ranks were swinging hard just to teach them to respect a higher rank.  However, most of the time they really didn't need to.  A match between these two?  Hilarious to watch.  The hard hitters were swinging so hard they were out of gas immediately and by the end of the round would find themselves out of breath exhausted, with their head gear spun around due to a round kick tap to the temple, and wonder what exactly happened, while their skilled opponent wore only a smile.

In all honesty, it's been a tough few weeks.  Two people in my life were diagnosed with serious illnesses that came directly out of nowhere.  Added to this was a variety of stress related to the holidays and taking on a new role at work.  All of these things began to feel  like a full on assault from this thing called life.  My gut reaction was to swing back and swing hard.  I could handle the illness.  I was a medical provider.  I could solve it with medical facts and provider speak.  Holiday stress?  I could sleep less and get more done.  Same goes for work, 100 miles an hour until I ended up just like the tired guy with my headgear on sideways wondering where it was I lost control.  It was time to regroup.

Last weekend, my Team 1DOS cofounder Karl and I took the time out to visit our sick friend, who happened to be one of our very first motivational clients.  I was prepared to deliver spot on hard hitting sympathetic rhetoric.  After all I had provided said rhetoric to thousands of patients over the years.  I was all set to put on my motivator hat and go all Mama Shark on him and convince him it was his job to fight, convince him he could kick cancer's ass.  I was armed and ready.  However, what met me was not what I expected.  It was not a sickly guy deep in depression over the situation.  It was instead, a friend proudly claiming his denial of the situation and embracing the best life had to offer, fighting back with the finesse of a high ranking black belt. Clearly my hard hitting rhetoric and motivation were not required.  What was required instead was a few laughs, relaxation and taking said friend to The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. 

This experience has taught me that life is the type of high ranking fighter that can, at times, make perfect contact with a hit so hard that we never saw it coming.  It's times like these we need to respect the rank, stop wasting energy, end the round, regroup and go back in, only this time focusing on the openings and reserve our energy for the long haul, just like my sick friend has. 

Hit me with your best shot,

Come on hit me with your best shot,

Hit me with your best shot,

Fire away

In the end, with consistent training, and rising to the challenge of facing better fighters, all lower ranks will develop the same finesse that took them down to start with.  I suppose life is like that.  If we avoid the hard hitting struggles of life, we will miss the opportunity to develop the finesse to enjoy the best life has to offer which is truly a loss.  So, Life?  Hit me with your best shot, as I know in my heart of hearts I will move forward through the experience and see the best is yet to come.

Learning to be the Kangaroo

When I was a young teenager, one of my best friends and I would decide at various times we were going to take up running.  We would suit up in our bad 80's track suits and in my case, lace up a pair of Kangaroos.  The coveted 80's shoe that had a zipper pocket on the side.  It seemed odd to have a running shoe based on an animal that didn't run, but presumably they were named for the pocket much like a kangaroo pouch.  Why did we need a zipper pocket that was not big enough to hold anything other than a quarter or two anyway? I suppose in the pre-cell phone era we needed that to avoid the collect call from the pay phone that pissed parents off across the land.  Nonetheless, I had some bad ass Kangaroos.  We would set out from my elementary school and run/walk a mile and feel accomplished, and fashionable. This would go on for a time, then the weather would change or we would get busy with other things and stop for whatever reason.

When I think about these humble beginnings that would lead into decades of false starts and yo-yo dieting, it would be difficult for the obese 14 year old me to really see any level of fitness for the 50 year old 2019 me.  Yet here I am.  This week I hit a milestone.  I have begun consistently doing dead lift sets of 100 pounds and doing it well.  One.  Hundred.  Pounds.  That seemed like such a big number, so I decided I would look to see what else weighs 100 pounds.  It turns out half a kangaroo.  That's what weighs 100 pounds.  God, they were weird looking.  Gigantic feet, big belly, huge tail and had no ability to walk or run.  Again.  Why is it we needed a shoe named after these odd non-running creatures?

A little more Googling would tell me, as it turns out, nothing is as it seems with the kangaroo.  They have no ability to go backwards at all.  Their gigantic tail prevented that, and served as their balance.  Kangaroos can only launch themselves forward by powerful giant leaps, not looking back, hurling themselves confidently toward their destination at speeds over 40 miles an hour. That is why as a spirit animal, they represent the gift of speed and stamina gifted to a person as long as they are willing to move forward and not stop or look back. 

When my trainer challenged me to start getting strong this year, I took on the challenge with no real certainty where it would take me.  I learned along the way that heavy lifting changes your body.  Suddenly the 2's no longer fit because the thighs are too big and my lifelong obesity related body image issues would rear their ugly head one more time.  Nonetheless, I pushed on because as a fellow heavy lifter and friend told me recently,"something happens when I am with the weights."  I have come to learn she is right about that.  Life throws some pretty heavy bricks at times, for which I have no control, but somehow controlling the 50 pound dumbbell makes it easier to do the day to day heavy lifting required by this thing called life. 

So, maybe the Kangaroo shoe people had it right after all.  Maybe we should be a little more like the powerful kangaroo, pick a direction, run at it full force and never look back, having full faith that the balance, strength and stamina exist in us.  Only in that space will we see what we are truly capable of.  For me?  In a few weeks that same childhood friend will meet me in Florida for four days of running.  We will leave our track suits in the 80's and trade the Kangaroos for some modern high tech Brooks and take on 48 miles in four days, a far cry from the mile loop near my elementary school in the suburbs of Chicago. 

Otherwise, I am beginning to quiet the insecurities of my body image issues and appreciate the body heavy lifting is giving me. As it turns out all this lifting, and an affinity for the Matrix stepper, has my ass well on it's way to Kardashian status, which I have decided trumps any number on the scale or a clothing tag.  So, I will keep working my way down on the big girl weight rack with the goal of one day lifting a full kangaroo rather than a half.  I have a feeling that reaching full kangaroo status will teach me that an unwavering 40 mph charge at life will show me that the best is truly yet to come.