Keep on Keeping on

I feel like I've been sick for months now. Since late October, a low level malaise has kept me from exercising as much as I wanted to. I took a break from Cross Fit, I reduced my running frequency and went to bed early a lot more than I like.

But I haven't lost the speed I discovered this fall. Tuesday I ran a mile in under 9 minutes, and then kept running for another 21 minutes. I should have paused and taken some water, but I didn't.

I'm doing an experiment with foam rolling my problem right leg and then wearing a knee brace to sleep. My theory is that after I stretch out the area with the foam roller, it stays in a good position until I spend the night unconsciously going right back to the comfortable habit. So after my run I spent some painful time on the foam roller. Again, with my mouth thick and sticky with dry saliva, I should have gone to the water fountain. But I didn't.

Instead, I went over to the rowing machine and did my 5 minutes. I've taken to making the display tell me my average 500 meter pace. My best so far was 2:15.5 over five minutes. Today I struggled to keep it under 2:18, but with a last minute push, I did. Usually, when I finish my row, I sit for a moment to catch my breath and then get up and spray down the machine.

Not Tuesday.

Instead, after I clumsily loosed my feet from the stirrups, I levered myself off the seat and slid down the adjoining wall to sit on the floor while my heart pounded and my stomach debated the costs and benefits of heaving.

I'm not sure if it's being sick, pushing myself a little harder with the running speed, not drinking enough or a combination of all three, but I overdid it.

And I'm okay with that. I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that I did my best. I pushed almost, but not quite, to the point of illness. I danced on the edge of a physical limit and I handled it. I handled it by getting the attention of a friend at the gym and asking for help. How would I handle this situation in the wilderness alone? It would depend on the particulars of my situation, but I have confidence that I could.

Back to the Grind

I tried to keep doing Crossfit once or twice a week through October, November and December when I was feeling ill. After all, I wasn't actually sick enough to miss much work and I kept up with my running so why not keep up with Crossfit?

The answer came in December when I was doing deadlifts. The plan was to find a max weight for three reps. I got over 100 pounds and after each lift, blackness crept along the edges of my vision and I had to lean against the wall. This scared me enough that I decided I had to take a break from Crossfit until I felt better.

Even though I still feel like there's this low level malaise going on in my body, I also feel like I'm getting better. So last week, I screwed up my courage and went back to Crossfit.

I was ashamed at having been away so long, and I knew that it was going to be painful to get back into it. But when I arrived at my 5:30am class, there were some people that I knew and no one did anything at all to make me feel bad about not having been for a while. I don't even know why I would think that anyone would.

We did the metcon first - a 7 minute AMRAP of 10 2 for 1 wall balls and 10 chest to bar pull-ups. 2 for 1 wall balls were being debuted that very day. They are a special kind of torture wherein one throws the wall ball up to the wall and then performs an air squat before catching it.

I did not do well on those wall balls. Since we were advised to take lighter weights for the new movement, I had grabbed the lightest available, an 8 pounder. About halfway through the AMRAP, the coach advised me to use a lighter ball, and upon learning that there weren't any lighter than what I had, recommended doing standard wall balls. He probably saw me fall on my ass attempting the 2 for 1's. . .

But, on the plus side, I was able to do the standard wall balls with the 8 pounder in a nice rhythm. After the AMRAP we did back squats for strength in a complicated every minute set up. I maxed out at 115lbs. I tried 120 and dropped the bar, accidentally sliding it down my back rather than letting it fall free. I was a bit sore from that, but there weren't any lingering issues.

Now I just have to make myself go back this week.

And the next.

And the next.

And maybe do the Open.

Or not.

Carrying Weights while Lifting Weights

The other week my husband had this brilliant idea. He figured that since we backpack, which is a sport in which we carry - essentially - weight around on our backs, we should be training for that by wearing weights while we lift weights.

Now, I will fully accept some of the credit/blame for this idea of his. I've been pushing for us to start actually hiking on trails earlier than we ever have before, going backpacking in the foothills at a time when we are usually doing all our exercise indoors. However, most of the blame/credit goes directly to him for us actually heading to a sporting goods store and purchasing a weight vest.

We went for the 20 pound model, but it was adjustable, so we adjusted it down to 12 pounds right away. Partly because we wanted to ease ourselves into this new adventure and partly because wearing that thing with little weights right over my breasts was mighty uncomfortable. Okay, that last reason was all me, but still.

I wore the vest while vacuuming the car the day we bought it. I judged it worthy of further use, but I didn't get a chance to use it while lifting until the next weekend.

Wow. Just wow. Wearing a weighted vest while lifting weights is a lot harder than not wearing a weighted vest while lifting weights. This isn't exactly like backpacking. Usually when I'm backpacking, I'm not also lifting other heavy things. The heavy thing is on my back. However, I think it will be good training, because, well, it hurts a lot.

Not in a bad way... just in a 'why do my shoulders hurt so much oh yeah I'm wearing a weighted vest' kind of way. And that's not entirely accurate, because it is very difficult to forget you're wearing the weighted vest while wearing it. The straps are not of the best quality and they tend to loosen on me as I move. The weight shifts when I move my body in my weight-lifting motions.

And then there's the stares from other folks at the gym. I don't blame them. I know I look very silly in my weighted vest. But I'm looking silly in a very good cause, because sore shoulders now mean not as sore shoulders when my backpacking season begins.

2 Hour Time Trial

Because I love backpacking, I was determined once again to wake up early last Sunday morning and go on a hike.

Because I love my husband, I came up with a scheme to get us home reasonably early on that day (for some reason, it was important to him to be home for most of the day with the television on).

And so, I decided that I would hike 2 hours up towards Lucky Peak. At that point, I would turn back and Ambrose would turn back when I caught him. I didn't think that I could hike all the way to the peak in just two hours. I mean, sure, it's less than 5.5 miles, but it's also over 2800 feet up.

My first mile was under 24 minutes, but I knew that pace wouldn't last. The next mile took 28 minutes (and included a pit stop). Although that wasn't too bad of a pace, it was also not the steepest part of the trail.

So I gave myself a new goal. 4 miles in 2 hours. I could do that. I was sure of it. All I had to do was keep my miles under 30 minutes and I'd be golden.

The wind was blowing fiercely down the trail, chilling my face and adding difficulty to my hike. I'd added an extra 5 pounds to my pack, like you do, and it seemed like the third mile would never be finished.

I saw the sun rise over the mountains, pinking the horizon and gilding the low hanging clouds.

I couldn't believe it when I heard the announcement from my phone of the split pace.

34 minutes.

No.

I will not get less than 4 miles. I will blaze up this trail and make my 4 miles.

The trail was no less steep, the wind no less blustery, but I had found a new fount of determination. I hiked like I was being chased. And when I saw the tower atop Lucky Peak, I had a wild thought that I could actually climb the peak in 2 hours or less.

Not that day. I made my 4 miles and had 7 more minutes to hike out, but that wasn't enough to bring me to the peak. I turned around at 4.3 miles.

1.1 miles down, I found Ambrose. After I passed him, I was conscious that he was behind me, and determined not to be caught. He used to be faster going downhill than me, but I am much better at the downhills now. So I was shocked when I turned and saw him rather close behind me, not once, but twice. At that point, I decided I had to focus forward to beat him and I didn't look back again.

I passed two runners, a hiking couple that looked very unhappy, and two woman with one man and four dogs all  heading out. I stood aside when the trail was narrow and got barked at by some dogs while their owner assured me that "they only bark." I wasn't super worried - I had pepper spray if they attacked.

I only beat Ambrose out to the car by about 15 minutes, which surprised me until he told me that he had been jogging down behind me until about the last mile and a half. Cheater!

I'll be doing this time trial again, as a gauge of my progress. It's not a long trail, but the elevation gain makes it a good training tool.