The weather has been nice enough the past few weekends to start taking my boots out on break in walks. My husband and I did about six miles together on the mostly flat loop of the nature path near our apartment two weekends ago, and last weekend we both did about five miles, including some elevation gain heading up towards Table Rock.
We stayed together for the first part of that walk, but as soon as we hit the dirt path leading up, I was off. He valiantly stayed behind me, within earshot, for a good three to five minutes, but I continued on without stopping and the sound of his breathing vanished behind me. My goal was to get to the turnaround point without stopping, and I made it, even though I had to pass a couple of people and dogs to do it.
The boots still feel good. They are solid and protected my feet from the roughness of the terrain on the trail section I hiked. They have excellent traction on slanted rock and I didn't feel insecure going downhill on pebbly inclines. On the way up, I needed to retie my right boot, but I didn't want to stop. I made do with it being a little loose, coming untied it turned out, because I wanted to make that goal. If it had started flopping I would have stopped, but it was just giving me a little bit of heel slide so I kept going.
These break in hikes are short, and so far without packs, but they excite me anyway. They signal that the start of the backpacking season is about to begin. The air might still have a snow bite to it, but summer is coming, and new adventures with it.
Wednesday, March 30, 2016
Wednesday, March 23, 2016
Beating Myself at the Open
I’m participating in the Crossfit Open again this year (scaled division). I’ve heard from others that their experience with doing the Open workout twice, once on Friday and once on Sunday, has mostly resulted in either the same results or slightly worse results. Occasionally, slightly better. I never tried doing that last year when I first participated in the Open. This year, so far, I’ve tried it twice, and, both times, I destroyed my first score by 20 reps or more.
I wondered if perhaps I simply wasn’t doing my best on Fridays. After all, on Fridays I tend to go to the 5:30am class (although one of the Fridays in question I went to the 9am). It’s first thing in the morning, and I'm not working out on a full stomach. Maybe I wasn’t able to give it my all in that time slot. Maybe I was unconsciously slacking, preparing to do better on Sunday.
But I don’t think that's it. Unless I’m injured, I tend to go full throttle for Crossfit. Case in point, on Monday of this week, I was still very sore in my legs from 16.4, so I took it easy on the air squats. The sit ups, however, were another matter. I managed to get a mat burn on my butt from doing the sit ups faster than was, perhaps, strictly wise.
And so, what made the difference for me? How did I do so much better, even being sore from the first time? I think the answer lies in my hobby, backpacking.
When my husband and I were on the Wild Coast last summer, one of the other backpackers we encountered, a member of a group heading on a one way trip to Shi Shi, was shocked that we were doing an out and back trip. She said that she wouldn’t have wanted to go back over the hard terrain that she’d already been through. I, on the other hand, was looking forward to the chance to get to know the trail better.
The first time on a trail is a time for learning. You start noticing landmarks. You take note of where water is, and where it might not be later in the season. The trip takes forever, and seems to be all uphill.
But the second time, you know more of what to expect. You’ve gone back to the trail in your head and taken note of which parts were the hardest, and why. You’re mentally prepared to tackle them, and the trip doesn’t take nearly as long.
For 16.3 and 16.4, on the Saturday between my first try and my second try, I rehearsed the movements. That meant practicing jumping chest to bar pull ups for 16.3 and practicing deadlifts and rowing for 16.4. I didn’t practice wall balls, but I did remind myself that I needed to spend less time thinking about how much I hate them, and more time getting through them. I rehearsed in my mind how I would approach the workout the second time, knowing that I could do it, having experienced how it made me feel once already.
I also have to thank the people who judged for me on those Sundays - not that the ones judging me on Friday don’t deserve thanks of their own, but the Sunday judges had an advantage that helped me. I told them my goal, that I wanted to beat my Friday score, and they helped me achieve that.
And therein lies the other key. The first time on a trail, the experience is all about the newness of it. Everything is new, and the limits and challenges are unknown. Each subsequent journey allows you to drill down into different aspects of the trail, but more is known. You know you can make it to the top of that pass. You know it isn’t far from there to the campsite.
The method is rehearsal, preparation, knowledge, a goal and encouragement.
Not only encouragement from the judges that were watching me, but from the whole community watching and cheering, as we do on Sundays, from the high volume, high intensity music blasting from the DJ's speakers. Of course, my sample size is small - only two workouts. If I can do it again this weekend, that'll be the proof of my method's efficacy.
I wondered if perhaps I simply wasn’t doing my best on Fridays. After all, on Fridays I tend to go to the 5:30am class (although one of the Fridays in question I went to the 9am). It’s first thing in the morning, and I'm not working out on a full stomach. Maybe I wasn’t able to give it my all in that time slot. Maybe I was unconsciously slacking, preparing to do better on Sunday.
But I don’t think that's it. Unless I’m injured, I tend to go full throttle for Crossfit. Case in point, on Monday of this week, I was still very sore in my legs from 16.4, so I took it easy on the air squats. The sit ups, however, were another matter. I managed to get a mat burn on my butt from doing the sit ups faster than was, perhaps, strictly wise.
And so, what made the difference for me? How did I do so much better, even being sore from the first time? I think the answer lies in my hobby, backpacking.
When my husband and I were on the Wild Coast last summer, one of the other backpackers we encountered, a member of a group heading on a one way trip to Shi Shi, was shocked that we were doing an out and back trip. She said that she wouldn’t have wanted to go back over the hard terrain that she’d already been through. I, on the other hand, was looking forward to the chance to get to know the trail better.
The first time on a trail is a time for learning. You start noticing landmarks. You take note of where water is, and where it might not be later in the season. The trip takes forever, and seems to be all uphill.
But the second time, you know more of what to expect. You’ve gone back to the trail in your head and taken note of which parts were the hardest, and why. You’re mentally prepared to tackle them, and the trip doesn’t take nearly as long.
For 16.3 and 16.4, on the Saturday between my first try and my second try, I rehearsed the movements. That meant practicing jumping chest to bar pull ups for 16.3 and practicing deadlifts and rowing for 16.4. I didn’t practice wall balls, but I did remind myself that I needed to spend less time thinking about how much I hate them, and more time getting through them. I rehearsed in my mind how I would approach the workout the second time, knowing that I could do it, having experienced how it made me feel once already.
I also have to thank the people who judged for me on those Sundays - not that the ones judging me on Friday don’t deserve thanks of their own, but the Sunday judges had an advantage that helped me. I told them my goal, that I wanted to beat my Friday score, and they helped me achieve that.
And therein lies the other key. The first time on a trail, the experience is all about the newness of it. Everything is new, and the limits and challenges are unknown. Each subsequent journey allows you to drill down into different aspects of the trail, but more is known. You know you can make it to the top of that pass. You know it isn’t far from there to the campsite.
The method is rehearsal, preparation, knowledge, a goal and encouragement.
Not only encouragement from the judges that were watching me, but from the whole community watching and cheering, as we do on Sundays, from the high volume, high intensity music blasting from the DJ's speakers. Of course, my sample size is small - only two workouts. If I can do it again this weekend, that'll be the proof of my method's efficacy.
Wednesday, March 16, 2016
Pull Update
I still haven't gotten a strict pull up.
But I'm at the point where I am doing pull ups without assistance when the movement comes up on the workout of the day. I actually did a fair number of jumping chest to bar pull ups as part of participating in the Crossfit Open (16.3, scaled).
I'm still working on my three times a week pull up workout, with the addition of 3 to 5 "unstrict" pull ups when I complete it on workdays (usually days 1 and 2) and 10+ unstrict when I complete it on a weekend (usually day 3).
My grip strength is improving, and I can feel a new soreness in my back muscles. I don't think I've reached a plateau, but I still haven't figured out how to bridge the gap between the top of a reverse shrug and the 90 degree arms.
In May it will be officially a year that I've been hammering away at this pull up goal. I've come so far, and I'm still not there. But there's progress, and, in that, I take pride.
But I'm at the point where I am doing pull ups without assistance when the movement comes up on the workout of the day. I actually did a fair number of jumping chest to bar pull ups as part of participating in the Crossfit Open (16.3, scaled).
I'm still working on my three times a week pull up workout, with the addition of 3 to 5 "unstrict" pull ups when I complete it on workdays (usually days 1 and 2) and 10+ unstrict when I complete it on a weekend (usually day 3).
My grip strength is improving, and I can feel a new soreness in my back muscles. I don't think I've reached a plateau, but I still haven't figured out how to bridge the gap between the top of a reverse shrug and the 90 degree arms.
In May it will be officially a year that I've been hammering away at this pull up goal. I've come so far, and I'm still not there. But there's progress, and, in that, I take pride.
Wednesday, March 9, 2016
Walking through Seattle
From last Sunday through Wednesday, I was in Seattle for a conference. The conference was at the Washington State Convention Center, and I was staying a hotel three blocks away, all uphill. I had no idea, before that conference, just how hilly Seattle really is.
I mean, sure, I got an idea when I had my brief visit last summer after the coast backpacking trip, but staying there for four days drove the point home, directly into my calves and feet.
And I had a mission on that trip. I wanted to get myself to that lovely flagship REI store and find myself some boots that would work. My boots from Cabella's that I wore last year fit, but they didn't protect my feet from the rocks on the coast trip. Previous boots from the Boise REI had protected my feet well but squeezed my toes so much that I still have issues with my right foot's toes.
And so, I did a speed walk after my last session on Monday night, from the convention center to REI. And there, with the help of a very nice salesman, I found my boots.
I mean, sure, I got an idea when I had my brief visit last summer after the coast backpacking trip, but staying there for four days drove the point home, directly into my calves and feet.
And I had a mission on that trip. I wanted to get myself to that lovely flagship REI store and find myself some boots that would work. My boots from Cabella's that I wore last year fit, but they didn't protect my feet from the rocks on the coast trip. Previous boots from the Boise REI had protected my feet well but squeezed my toes so much that I still have issues with my right foot's toes.
And so, I did a speed walk after my last session on Monday night, from the convention center to REI. And there, with the help of a very nice salesman, I found my boots.
They fulfilled my basic requirements of having a good toe bumper, waterproof, shank, over the ankle height... and they fit my toes. The salesman also got their boot guy to do some stretching on the outer ankle of the right boot, which was a bit tight. But I think the other parts can be adjusted as long as that toe box has sufficient room.
I was advised to wear them frequently to break them in, and I've already started. I'm excited for the hiking season to begin again so I can see if I've finally found the boot that I can wear out.
Wednesday, March 2, 2016
Call of the Wild Coast
On Monday, I looked over the pictures from the coast hike again. My husband and I are going to get some printed up so we can look at them more often. And, even though I was flicking through the images quickly and not devoting my full attention to the task, I couldn't keep the smile from my face.
The ghostly shore, mist shrouded and mysterious. The animals we encountered on the beaches through sun and rain. The rocks that rolled beneath our feet and the rocks that rose above our heads. The fairy tale trees of the Wedding Rocks headland. The ever-changing line of lapping ocean waves.
I can't wait to go back there. I can't wait to start learning the Wild Coast as I have learned some of my local trails. To have a sense of where my landmarks are, where the water can be found and where the best place to wait out the tide will be.
It's a challenge. It's hard and dirty work, hauling yourself and your gear along a trail that changes with every tide. And it's beautiful. And sometimes I wish I could live in the time that we hiked forever.
But if I never left the experience of that first hike, then I'd never get to go back. I'd never get to experience the anticipation as we plan the next visit, knowing what we now know. We've already decided that reserving a hotel room of some sort for when we get off the beach would be a good idea. Better to have an online reservation confirmed and not try to walk in looking (and smelling) like you've been sleeping on the beach for the past six days.
I don't know when we're going to do that next trip, but I know that we will. The pictures we print out will only whet our appetites for going back and adding to the collection. Pictures will always be a pale substitute, but when they're what you've got, you take them. You print them out and hang them in your office cubicle and use them to remind yourself of the rushing of waves over sand, the burbles of flowing water, the barking of sea lions and the satisfaction of traversing a headland in the dark.
The ghostly shore, mist shrouded and mysterious. The animals we encountered on the beaches through sun and rain. The rocks that rolled beneath our feet and the rocks that rose above our heads. The fairy tale trees of the Wedding Rocks headland. The ever-changing line of lapping ocean waves.
I can't wait to go back there. I can't wait to start learning the Wild Coast as I have learned some of my local trails. To have a sense of where my landmarks are, where the water can be found and where the best place to wait out the tide will be.
It's a challenge. It's hard and dirty work, hauling yourself and your gear along a trail that changes with every tide. And it's beautiful. And sometimes I wish I could live in the time that we hiked forever.
But if I never left the experience of that first hike, then I'd never get to go back. I'd never get to experience the anticipation as we plan the next visit, knowing what we now know. We've already decided that reserving a hotel room of some sort for when we get off the beach would be a good idea. Better to have an online reservation confirmed and not try to walk in looking (and smelling) like you've been sleeping on the beach for the past six days.
I don't know when we're going to do that next trip, but I know that we will. The pictures we print out will only whet our appetites for going back and adding to the collection. Pictures will always be a pale substitute, but when they're what you've got, you take them. You print them out and hang them in your office cubicle and use them to remind yourself of the rushing of waves over sand, the burbles of flowing water, the barking of sea lions and the satisfaction of traversing a headland in the dark.
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