Fear

Last weekend, I competed in Reebok's Ready For Action competition. The top 48 females, males, teens, and masters who finished in the Crossfit Open in Israel were invited.

Disclaimer: I promise this post won't be some meathead rant about throwing weights around and protein shakes. It was way more than that.

source

If I am being upfront, I had a minor panic attack the day before I was scheduled to fly. Andrew and I were on a run, and I suddenly stopped and started crying and babbled about how I was terrified to compete in a foreign country, I wasn't ready, I had just spent four days in Mexico eating quesadillas and drinking margs like it was nobodies business, etc.

There was never the actual question if I would actually go back and do it or not. I landed Wednesday night, picked up my gear, and went to bed. But I was scared.

Thursday was basically a longer endurance workout to rank us into heats for the next day. I wasn't necessarily nervous about that, because I knew I could do it. What I was scared of were Days 2 and 3, and facing workouts that were going to knock me on my ass.

Scared actually might be an understatement here, because I was f@cking terrified excuse my french. And when Day 2 rolled around, and I stood in the hallway waiting to enter the arena for my heat, having minimal idea of what was actually going on as all of the announcements were in Hebrew -

SIDE NOTE: HUGE thank you to my coaches and teammates for not only the constant coaching and reassurance, but having to translate non-stop for my ignorant monolingual self. 3 2 1 GO may now be the only four words I remember in Hebrew. 

Anyways, as I stood there, I had that fear that gets down deep into your stomach. And I turned to my friend Jillian and asked, "Why did I sign up for this?"

Of course, like so often in life, after the fact I couldn't be happier that I did it. 

Don't get me wrong, there isn't some magical ending to this story, where I work super hard and pull off an awesome performance. Naw. The workouts were hard, I got my butt handed to me. I failed handstand push-ups for ten minutes straight after managing to complete three. Which is better than the zero I could manage two months ago - but still - nothing like repeatedly falling on your head in the middle of an arena.

I was faced with this workout, which was simultaneously my favorite and one of the hardest I've done in my Crossfit life:

10 Rounds for time:

1 Rope Climb

7 Overhead Squats @ 40 kilograms

8 Bar Facing Burpees

While wearing a 6 kg vest, 20 minute time cap

(kilograms x 2.2 = pounds) 

Want to feel badass? Rope climb in weighted vest. Want to the immediately feel not badass? Walk over to your barbell and fail the overhead squats multiple times in a row (I eventually got through a few rounds).

I sadly don't have any pictures of myself doing rope climbs but here's
one of my pal Moshe killing the workout

The last workout of the competition (for me, I didn't make finals) was to max out on our squat snatch. Snatch is my worst lift... well none of my lifts are great, but it's trickier for a 5'11" chick to flip a heavy amount of weight above her head and catch it at the bottom of a squat. Quickly. And stand it up. I did manage a small PR, but my favorite part was watching the top women's heat.

One of my favorite athletes - who I had never spoken to in my life - nailed a heavy PR on her snatch. I only know this because she immediately dropped to her knees and started bawling. 

I approached her afterwards to congratulate her, and tell her that she had made me tear up myself. She was still smiling through tears, yet didn't speak English, so the girl standing next to her translated my message.

It took me too long to realize it, but it finally got through my thick skull that it didn't matter that the entire competition was put on in Hebrew, or that I don't speak the primary language of 90% of the competitors there. Or that I'm not as strong as a large majority of the girls there. We were all there for the love of competition, of challenging our bodies, and seeing what we are capable of.

The three females representing Crossfit Tel Aviv

It was a crazy cool life experience; one of those that will get tucked away into my brain forever. And If nothing else, I hope this rambling post encourages you to go out and do that thing you've been putting off or avoiding. That thing you have coming up that you don't want to do because it scares you.

I think the concept "Do one thing a day that scares" you has a lot of merit. And it can be exemplified in so many awesome ways. So just do it. Talk to that guy you've been terrified to say anything to. Shoot to run/bike/swim/roller blade a distance you never imagined in your wildest dreams. Grow that garden you're certain you will kill within months. Steal the neighbor's cat and make it your own.

Don't be afraid of failure guys, be afraid of never actually failing. That means you aren't challenging yourself.

((Drops mics, walks off stage, grabs beer))

Cheers -

Kait

competitor

This week flew by. It was glorious. I kind of feel like on Monday I blinked, and all of a sudden it was Superbowl Weekend. Ushered in by a beautiful sunrise.

So, what is wackjob Kait gonna throw at you for some Friday entertainment? How about a quick story?

A week or two ago, Andrew and I decided that we were going to see Lone Survivor. I showed up at his apartment around 6:15 pm so that we could share split a Trader Joes pizza prior to walking down the street to the theater.

Around 6:45 we finished stuffing our faces eating, and realized we had well over 2 hours to kill before the 9:45 showing. Didn’t time that out too well.

Somehow, as we cleaned up and sat back down at his kitchen table over some wine, we got into a heated ‘What do we really want to do with our lives’ debate. One of those deep conversations that you can only have with a select few people in your life, which gets so intense that you lose track of time for a significant while.

I love Andrew for many reasons, but towards the top of that list is that he will always push me. Always. So he sat there and asked me what my fears were, what was holding me back from studying to get my PT certification, why I am not going after things that I'm so passionate about.

And with tears in my eyes like the emotional wimp that I can sometimes be, it basically came down to fear, and stagnancy.

I’m a big competitor in certain areas of life. I like to excel, I like to run fast, I like to beat people. I like to do things well, not half-assed. Recently I’ve been on a don’t be a (insert p-word here) rant, as anyone who has spent a significant amount of time with me recently could tell you. And so another good question that he threw at me was -

“What’s your plan for 2014? Are you racing? How are you going to compete in life this year, because we both know that you need that.”

I do. I just don’t know what my bodies going to let me do yet. And I sure as hell am not going to pay an absurd race fee to do it ‘for fun.’

A shamrock shuffle at this point would be just that – a shuffle. Some people shuffle, and there's absolutely nothing wrong with that. I prefer to see 6's in front of my 5k pace.

I’m getting antsy. I see race ads popping up everywhere, and I want to sign up. It’s one of the reasons that I sometimes avoid reading other blogs, because I get down on myself about not having some epic 2014 year of races planned.

I’m convinced that sitting on my ass all day is doing more harm than good for my freaking hamstring.

I’m convinced that crossfit would be a great solution for me. Yet I also know that that I still can’t afford it.

Basically, I realized that I was/am in a weird rut. I don’t have any races to train for, and I basically half-assed my way through life in January. Maybe I need to cut myself some slack, but I don’t think I do. Basically, what I need is for Jillian Michaels to walk into my house, scream at me, possibly backhand me, and then write me an epic workout plan for the entire year.

This post has no point but to be transparent and let you all know where I stand. I have a lot of awesome ideas in my head as to what I want this year to look like, and I think it’s time to hold myself accountable and start acting on them, don’t you agree? And as I sit here, on the eve of February, I’m feeling more motivated than ever.

Hold tight kids, 2014 is about to start FO’ REAL. I leave you with a jam for #Backthatazzup Friday that sums up this post perfectly.

Cheers –

K

So You Think You Can't Dance

Alright my furry friends, let’s get straight to the point. Weird Wednesdays, round 3.

I’m tall. Barefoot, I’m 5’11. On days that I wear heels into the office, I tower over almost every single one of my coworkers.

It’s a useful trait to have in many ways. As a volleyball player in college, I was known to block a few peeps on occasion.

I'm in the white on the right - Numero Cuatro

Current day, on the running trail, I’m pretty conscious of the fact that I don’t have your typical 'runner’s body.' It’s been said that those who are ‘closer to the ground’ usually tend to do better with distance. Well… I don’t consider myself too close to the ground, unless I trip & eat shit (which happens on occasion) and am then lying on the ground itself. Almost once per race another woman runner will comment to me out on the course about my long legs… in which I usually respond with something along the lines of "Yea, well it sure is a bitch to find jeans."

Hey you, in the purple - your legs are longgg

 However, one large disadvantage to being tall that has really been gotten to me lately? I suck at dancing.

Dancing is not my thing. My tall, somewhat gangly body can find the beat about as easily as one can find a beach down in Antarctica. And it makes me so sad. Because although I’m no Dancing with the Stars constestant, I still love doing it.

Don’t get me wrong, I did my fair share of dancing in college/post-grad, with the security of my girlfriends surrounding me, and the confidence of a few beverages. And I always had a blast.

The dancing blind mouse...

Soccer players for halloween. Classic.

It’s startling, and dare I say weird, how recently I have developed a borderline fear of it. Just this past weekend in Ocean City, “Call Me Maybe” came on at the beach bar classy establishment that we were at… and I’m fairly confident that a small piece of my soul died as I watched everyone rage to it on the dance floor. Just a small piece.

Andrew is actually a good dancer, and loves it more than I do, so it probably devastates him more than myself that I can’t/won’t/refuse to hit the dance floor him. A few weeks ago he even generously offered to practice with me in the safety of his living room…

An event that quickly ended with me sitting on the couch, having a mild panic attack and on the verge of tears.

Yes, that really is me.

Above is an example of what happens when I have a panic attack.

I need to get over this fear, quickly. Step 1 of my plan? Go to a Zumba Class next week with a coworker. Just shoot me now.

Any others out there with a dancing phobia?

Hope your Wednesday is super weird. Cheers!

Aggressive Geese

In order to keep the ball rolling on my Weird Wednesday series, I want to throw out a really bold, judgmental statement.

I really hate geese.

Yes, I made a point to take each & every one of these pictures.

 If you’re response to that is “Yeah Kait no shit everyone hates geese, they’re annoying” ...please let me explain. Because my hatred does not stem solely from the fact that they crap all over the place. They are extremely aggressive birds, and they scare me. And on occasion, they have literally run me off the trail.

Goose Poo. It's everywherreeee

 I can dodge their excessive droppings on the trails in Columbia fairly well. Yet when it comes to them charging at me, sometimes after me, down the trail… that I can’t handle. And the hissing, what’s up with the hissing?

There they are... just stalking the running trail. Waiting to make their moves...

 I would be lying if I said I’ve never hissed back at them. But I suppose, on the bright side, anytime I run near the ponds (which is almost daily) I am forced to run a bit faster out of fear. And I now go extremely out of my way, looping off of the path so that I no longer am charged by these rabid geese.

Me and my mortal enemies

Along the same topic of animals coming at me on runs, I also have an irrational fear of stepping on small rodents while running. For some reason I have this engrained mental image of a tiny rabbit, or squirrel running under my feet while I plug away down the bike path. Like everywhere else in the world, they are ALWAYS along the sides of the path eating clover or whatever the heck that they eat; and just being all rodenty. And then they see me coming, get this weird panicky look in their eyes and freeze.

cute little guy... just not the brightest crayon in the box.

And in my mind I just play this slow motion scenario of their stupid little brains freaking out, and instead of running away from me, they run directly under my feet. And are crushed.

Gross.

I would love to know:

A. Does anyone else have issues with overly aggressive geese in their area?

and

B. Has anyone actually stepped on a rodent? Or is this fear as irrational as I think?

Now ducks I have no issues with. They keep to themselves.

Anyways, there’s your daily dose of weirdness. Cheers!