Doing It Right is HARD

Today at work I spent a lot of time reading up on Crossfit training and where to begin. I have written about Crossfit and the high-intensity workouts before, but I want to explain a few things thoroughly before I tell you how today's workout went. And so commences a history of Lynn's hate-hate relationship with physical activity. For those of you who just want the workout stats, scroll to the bottom of this post. I tend to be long-winded when telling stories about my history.

In grade school, I hated anything athletic. For some reason, we never ran "the mile" like other kids did, but I remember running laps around the outer ring of the gym and hating every second of it. The only sports I was ever any good at were volleyball and hockey. I usually got stuck playing goalie, but I never minded because it meant I didn't have to run around after the puck.

Middle school was a whole new form of pain and suffering. The Brookfield school district believed in pushing their students to train them for high school sports. I remember the anxiety and disbelief I felt the first time I was told we would be running a solid mile. I think my jaw hit the floor. This was also the first time I was introduced to a set of dumbbells and told to lift weights. High school was more of the same. I discovered I enjoyed tennis-- I had a killer serve, which no one was ever able to return, so the actual amount of energy expended was incredibly low.

I remember one summer my mother decided that I should sign up for intramural sports. She decided volleyball was a great idea for me, and carted me around to eight solid weeks of volleyball. The first week, we were told to do push-ups as a warm up. I was humiliated as all of the other tan, gorgeous Brookfieldians did their push-ups effortlessly and bounded to their feet as I was still struggling to catch my breath. Somehow (seriously, I have no idea how), I ended up pulling a muscle in my stomach, which hurt so bad that every time I tried to go for the ball, I felt such pain that I was useless. I barely made it through the eight weeks, and every day when I got into the car with my mom, I reminded her how angry I was at her for making me go, and reminded her never to sign me up for classes again.

My last year in high school, I didn't have to take gym, so I opted for two study halls instead. Pure lazy bliss. Remember, this was when I weighed about 105 soaking wet, and every morning in first period I ate two cookies (fresh out of the cafeteria oven) and a 20 oz. Mountain Dew for breakfast. I never gained an ounce. Life was fantastic.

Somewhere around my sophomore year of college, I decided I should probably join a gym. I walked into Bally's and got roped into a year long membership at $56/ mo. At the time I made about $10/hour at Marshall Fields, so after I realized what I had done, I tried desperately to cancel my membership. Anyone who has dealt with Bally's knows that they are a bunch of assholes, and unfortunately I lost that battle. I finally started to go to the gym, sticking mostly to the elliptical machines. I saw little success.

Until, that is, I threw down an extra $600 and hired a personal trainer for a summer. Anthony can attest- that summer I was in the best shape of my life. I had toned arms, I had started to loose some fat and replaced it with lean muscle, and I had more energy. I was back to eating what I wanted. When I couldn't afford the trainer, however, I began to loose the muscle. My biggest two problems when it comes to gyms are that I can't push myself, and I feel like I don't belong when I walk into the free weights section of a gym.

Let me explain for those of you who don't go to a gym or have never been inside a gym, there is a section full of comfortable cardio machines--easy to use and non-threatening. Then, as you work your way deeper into the gym, you'll find a section of weight lifting machines. These are a little more intimidating, but they all have instructions, and I can usually encourage myself to sneak over to one and try it out when no one is looking. Then, you get to the darkest area of the gym. This section will be lined with mirrors and full of large men with arms the size of your head. If you aren't scared off by the grunting noises coming from this area, and you peer inside, you will find the free weights section. The machines here are minimal, they don't come with instructions, and there are enormous weights stacked everywhere. I love it when I get to a bench with a long bar across it (gotta love how technical I get with the names here), and the bar still has some dude's 200lb weights stacked on either end. How the hell am I supposed to get those weights off of there so I can use the damn bar? I typically avoid this section.

And there's my problem. I'm so intimidated by the equipment that actually will help me the most that I don't even bother to use it. The few times I entered this area of the gym at Bally's, I was accompanied by my trainer, so I felt like anyone who was looking at me would assume I was being forced in there against my will. Which I was, kind of.

Well, according to what I've read on Crossfit.com, that is the only section of the gym I should be spending any time in at all. In fact, what I should do is forgo having any gym membership, and I should turn my garage into a workout heaven, complete with springy mats on the floor, weights, pull-up bar, bench and long bar that I mentioned earlier (really, I need to learn this terminology so you know what the hell I'm talking about).

Based on what I've described so far, you're probably beginning to realize that something isn't right here. Why do I keep coming back to Crossfit when it's obvious that I've never been that serious about working out anyway? Several reasons: 1. Nothing else has worked. I've spent weeks on the treadmill with no results, and same for the other cardio equipment 2. I'm really impressed by the website's adaptability for people like myself who are unfamiliar with exercises, working out in general, terminology, and just how to do it right without trying to sell me a protein powder, a t-shirt, or a membership.

Today while I browsed the site, I found TONS of great resources, videos and articles on where to begin, how to do things properly and even (get this) live trainers who will answer your questions. No shit. There are some sections of the website which are paid only, but there was more than enough information for me to get started without having to pay. Besides, when I do decide that I want access to those extra nutrition and fitness articles, it's only $25.00 for a one-year subscription to the journal, which gives me access to all the back articles as well. That's about the same price as my subscription to Self, and it's twice as useful.

I watched so many videos today on how to do a squat. A squat. I thought I knew, but I was wrong. In fact, I remember asking my trainer if it was okay that my heels came off the ground when I squatted, and he shrugged and said it was normal. Apparently, doing squats right will not only make me less prone to injury, but they will also exponentially increase the results I get from them.

So that's what I did tonight. I tried to squat correctly. After watching a video where a girl had a block put under her butt and a bar in front of her to keep her arms raised as she tried to squat for what looked like the first time, that's exactly what I did. My TV has doors that come out at just the right height to use as a barrier to keep my arms raised, and I put a plastic bucket under my butt. When I sat on the bucket, I my knees were at a 90 degree angle to the floor. Crossfit advises even going lower, but I didn't have a shorter bucket and I was unsure of how well I would do even with the higher bucket.

With my feet in line with my shoulders, and my arms above my head, I locked up at the 45 degree mark about every time, so I decided to take a break and try again. My break was push-ups to failure. I made it to 18 on my knees. Better than yesterday. Then I went back to squats. I discovered that with my feet a little wider apart, I could get far enough to eventually fail about an inch before my butt hit the bucket. Once I was sitting on the bucket, the challenge was to get back up using only my legs, meaning that my back moved little, if at all. Just about every time I would have the energy to get up, but my balance would fail and I would wobble. This shit is hard, let me tell you.

I lost count of how many squats I did, but after I felt like quitting, I told myself 10 more, and when I failed on some of those, I made myself do them over until I was satisfied with my progress. I have definitely improved a bit, but I'm sure I have a long way to go.

Push-ups (untimed)
18 (failure)
5
5
10
10

That's all for today, guys. Thanks for reading. I can't wait to see some results here!