5 of Diamonds. Do 5 Sumo Deadlift High Pulls. Pick a new card.
10 of Hearts. Do 10 Thrusters. Pick a new card.
3 of Spades. Do 3 Box Jumps. Pick a new card.
King of Clubs. Do 12 Kettlebell Swings. Pick a new card.
This was one of our WODs, or Workouts of the Day, for those of you who don't cross-fit. *Dramatic hair flip*
This was probably one of our more difficult workouts, and in true cross-fit fashion, it was a race. My partner and I got through our entire deck, pulling one card after we finished the workout of the previous, in 13 minutes and 38 seconds; we were the first team to finish. I felt exhausted. I felt faint. I felt hot. I felt pretty good. We had finished first! I felt so accomplished because I have never been first in a physical contest. I beat the MEN. Is this real life?
In my moments of mixed emotions of elation and physical exhaustion, why was I feeling so unfulfilled? Every cross-fit workout had ended like this. Was I not doing something right? No, coach said I had perfect form. Was I not going hard enough? No, I was freaking exhausted. Then what was it?
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This was two weeks ago. I had one or two workouts since then and then I ended up quitting mainly for time constraint. I really did enjoy cross-fit, but I think mainly because of the friends that I was making there. You know, only being on campus for 2 months and having instant friends feels pretty damn good. But I decided that being in a constant time-crunch wasn't worth it. And you know what else? (plug your ears, cross-fitting lovers!)
1. Cross-fit wasn't working.
I wasn't getting toned. I wasn't losing weight. I wasn't feeling amazing. If anything, I felt worse. I was so tired all the time. I could NOT get over a respiratory virus that I had gotten 6 WEEKS PRIOR. I'm not exaggerating. It took at least 6 weeks to get over the thing. I thought I was in decent shape... I teach Zumba, I add strength training in my own routine, I'm pretty fit. But I was seeing zero results.
2. I was over working myself.
I was over exerting my body. I wasn't made for this.
Here was my schedule...
Monday and Wednesday: Class until 11:15am, dance practice from 6:30-8:00pm
Tuesday: Class until 3, Cross-fit from 6:30-7:30, Teach Zumba from 8:00-9:00pm.
Thursday: Class until 10:40, teach group fitness from 12:15-1:00, class until 3:00, Cross-Fit from 6:30-7:30.
Doesn't sound like a lot on Mondays and Wednesdays, does it? It really wasn't. But if I wanted to have a good dance practice, I couldn't work out ahead of time. I would have been too tired.
Going with this schedule while trying to get over a virus? Forget it. It wasn't happening.
So besides the overloaded schedule, trying to uphold a wonderful relationship with my also-full-time-student boyfriend, and working out literally every single day, why wasn't I fulfilled?
I was so excited to be this active and would joke often that "if I don't get a ripped body by the end of the semester, I'm giving up and eating ice cream every night in the spring."
3. I wasn't happy.
I wasn't feeling fit or toned. I was tired, sluggish, weak, ended up injuring both ankles, AND developing a stomach ulcer, all the while STILL GETTING OVER THE VIRUS FROM HELL.
4. The kicker...
I had a "EUREKA" moment after one session a few weeks ago. I didn't feel safe. Yes, obviously I was confident in some of the exercises, like squats, running, jump rope, etc. But the Olympic lifting stuff was NOT for me. My hands are too small for the technical "hook grip" (where your fingers grip over your thumb while holding a bar...imagine making an "M" in sign language), I do not feel safe lifting this 35 lb bar over my head because what if, as a fault of my incorrect grip, it comes smashing down on my head? They didn't teach us these things. When I told my coach that my hands are literally too small to do a hook grip, he laughed and said "well, you'll get used to it." Get used to what, holding the bar incorrectly because of my anatomy?
^^ Aforementioned hook-grip. ^^
5. I'm a trainer. Not a trainee.
I never went 100% in our workouts because I knew... I just intuitively knew that if I did I wouldn't come out unharmed. There was just something about the specifics of the routines that I wasn't comfortable with. I still can't put my finger on what it was. But the speed at which we had to do everything, the mentality of "unless you're injured, being in pain isn't bad", go as fast as you can, bleeding and bruising aren't a bad thing, puke happens, blah blah blah... I don't agree with any of that. It's one thing for an Olympic athlete to bleed and bruise and hurt and puke because they typically know what they're doing. Getting blisters and bleeding when I'm dancing is normal because it's just what happens at more advanced levels of a sport. But being a newbie in the cross-fit world and just now learning the lifts and the workouts, bleeding and bruising isn't something one should be proud of. Once you're competing, then talk to me about wrecking your body, but being a beginner the only thing you should be getting is sore muscles and calluses.
My friend Mia sent me an article that explains a secret in the cross-fit world. It's called Rhabdomyolosis, or "Rhabdo" for short. Now the article I read was focused on the dangers of Rhabdo and Cross-fit, but truth be told, this could happen with any extreme fitness routine. But since I'm fresh off the cross-fit bus, this hit home. I also have a bunch of friends who are slightly addicted to the form.
Basically, this "Rhabdo" happens when you workout under extreme conditions... and I don't mean working out in the arctic or in the Sahara. I mean pushing yourself literally to your limit of "I physically cannot do any more reps" and then not being able to move your arms the next day. What happens when you do that is your cells actually start exploding under pressure and they leak a protein into the blood stream called Myoglobin. The myoglobin gets filtered through the kidney, and since myoglobin isn't supposed to be in the bloodstream to begin with, it makes the kidney say "what the fuck is in me!?" and then your kidneys go on strike. It can kill.
People have had amputations and have died from this condition because they went too hard. It happens in Olympic lifters, marathon runners, professional dancers, and cross-fitters alike. (And any other sport than can be extreme.)
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Eat well. Work out. Sleep well. Done.
People often think that changing their diet means to cut out everything they like. The only thing I will swear by cutting out is soda. Cut out the damn soda. It's gross. It's gross for you. Don't drink it. But everything else is fine in moderation. And by moderation I mean, let yourself have one small sweet thing every other day. Not a whole candy bar... maybe half of one. Not a whole bowl of ice cream, maybe a scoop and a half with some fresh fruit. But couple it with a healthy, wholesome diet. Just cutting back on sweets isn't going to do much. Add more color onto your plate. Peppers, leafy greens, veggies, lean meat, a half a cup of a carb. Done. Healthy.
Then you see it. You see on the menu, in your pantry, at the buffet, whatever, a piece of double chocolate dream cake. Damn. Now you want that mother f*cking cake, don't you? Eat that damn cake. Eat it like you've never eaten a (small) piece of cake before.
Then go run. Not immediately obviously because you WILL see that cake again, just not in the most appealing form. Run that evening, run the next day.
People will say "cut out ALL sugars and ALL carbs and you'll lose weight." Well, duh. That will work, I promise you. But you'll be freaking miserable and end up having a bad night and polishing off an entire box of Oreos while you watch The Notebook and wondering where you went wrong in your life to deserve this.
*DO NOT DEPRIVE YOURSELF*
Our bodies need sugars, carbs, and fats believe it or not. Just not all the time or in huge quantities.
Eat the damn cake, then go for a run soon after. Drink water, not soda. Eat carrots, not french fries. Eat a salad, not a meatball sub. Take the stairs, not the elevator. There are so many little tweaks you can make in your life that will make you healthier AND happier... not healthier and wanting to punch a kitten because you didn't let yourself have a crumb of the cake you made for your husband.
*WORK OUT MORE*
Get a personal trainer, seriously, spend the money and get a good one that you like and agree with. It's worth it. Plus we trainers need the money ... trust me. They will give you tips on how to tweak your current diet into something that you can handle. None of this "4 almonds for breakfast, swordfish for a snack, and grass-fed bison for dinner with a side of air" crap. You're not a body builder or a fitness model.
Sure you can push yourself when working out... that's what makes it work. Hard work. Sweat, sometimes pain, sometimes being sore. But it sure as hell beats your cells exploding.
Go on Pinterest. Stalk your fitness friends "perfect body board" (because they don't already have an insane body...) and pick up some exercises that don't make you quiver in fear. Being comfortable with what you're doing is a huge thing. If you're not comfortable doing 107 Thrusters in a row, then you probably shouldn't do them.
But eat the damn cake.
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