I Made It!

I just got my official invitation to the 2014 Granite Games in St. Cloud this September!  I'm at a bit of a loss for words (enjoy it while you can).  I'm thrilled, and excited, and a little bit freaked and more than a little bit scared.  I can think of at least 50 things that I want to work on and improve before September...and beyond that I really can't think of anything to say except "Thanks!!" to the SISU coaches, "Expect me to be spending a lot more time at CrossFit" to the Hubster, and "I'm sorry" to anyone who comes here wanting to read about speedskating--because, while I'll continue with my skating training, I'm pretty sure my summer just got taken over by CrossFit!

Final Granite Games Masters Sectional: The "Big Girl" WOD

Today would be the last Granite Games Sectional WOD;  I would re-attempt the workout I had bailed on on Friday, Fail Day.  It seemed like a fairly simple WOD: 3 cleans, 3 jerks; 2 cleans, 2 jerks; 1 clean, 1 jerk, at 95 pounds for masters women.   I had watched Coach Pat do it (twice), as well as the two other SISU Masters Sectionals athletes, and it didn't seem bad.  Plus, it was short; just a four minute AMRAP.  Really, how bad could it be?

So I was a bit surprised when I talked to HatGuy on the way into the box. HatGuy is competing in the Sectionals in the non-master's men's category.  He's a very talented CrossFitter who makes everything look as easy as I make it look hard, but perhaps his most impressive talent is his ability to complete almost any WOD without losing his hat.  True, it did fly off a couple times during the muscle ups that the young 'uns had to do instead of chest to bar pullups--but he retrieved it and put it back on each time, so I didn't dock him any talent points for that.  Anyway, when I asked HatGuy which workout he'd be doing today (we all seem to be on different schedules), he said "the Big Boy workout." When I looked confused, he elaborated "you know, the one with the cleans."

Well, I hadn't thought of WOD #4 as particularly a "Big Boy" workout...but then I remembered.  I'd only seen masters athletes complete the WOD--and they used a scaled weight.  The young guys had to clean and jerk 225 pounds. And then I remembered further...on Friday, as my unhappy stomach and shoulder and I attempted to warm up, a guy had done a 225 pound clean and jerk--and when he dropped the bar after completing the lift, I thought it was going to go through the floor.

So yeah, a Big Boy WOD.

And, when I thought about it, I realized that it was going to be a "Big Girl" WOD for me as well.  95 pounds is close to my PR for a clean (I've done 105) and is my PR for jerks (as of Online Qualifier WOD #1).  And that was when my shoulder was feeling much better.  Once again, I thought I might be looking at completing a small part of the WOD--in this case, the first three cleans--and then spending the rest of my time futilely trying to move past the next movement, in this case the three jerks.

After the number of times I surprised myself in the Qualifier and the Sectionals you'd think I'd have learned to trust myself a bit more by now, eh?

But, as with the other WODs, I figured all I could do was my "whole-assed" best (and I have definitive proof that I had done my whole-assed best in yesterday's pistol WOD, because today my whole ass hurts). So I completed the thorough warmup prescribed by Coach Jason, and worked hard on trying not to bend my arms early in the clean.  I'm finally getting to where I can feel how much easier cleans and snatches are when I do them correctly, and 95 pounds is heavy enough that I certainly want all the "easier" I can get.

This WOD called for multiple cleans in a row and then multiple jerks in a row, rather than the usual clean-and-jerk combo.  I knew, though, that I was going to have to set the bar down after each jerk and re-clean it for the next attempt; I didn't dare try to lower the bar back to front rack position because I knew it would aggravate my shoulder too much.  So I knew I was looking at doing more cleans than I technically needed to. Proper technique--or at least, as close to proper as I could get--would be essential.  Any time "proper technique" is essential, I get a bit nervous...

And then it was WOD time.  The first three cleans were, as I had anticipated, no problem.

The jerks were a bit of a different story.  Each one took several moments of "pause and psych myself up" before the attempt, and all were a struggle.  I lost the bar behind me once...

 Damn, that's not good

Fortunately I'm pretty good at leaping out of the way

Now, where's that bar?

...and had to do a bit of wobbling about a couple other times before I could stabilize everything enough for Coach Jason to indicate that the rep counted.

Doin' a little two-step with 95 pounds

I had hoped to get through one complete round, or 12 reps...so when I finished my 16th rep and threw the bar down just as time ran out, I did indeed feel like I had completed the WOD like a "Big Girl."

Those rubber plates bounce good, don't they?

And then, (risking becoming an even bigger girl), I once again went to McDonald's to upload the video and submit it for scoring--and to have a celebratory hot fudge sundae.  

And then Sectionals were done.

And I have to say, this has been one of the most fun athletic events I've ever done.  I've surprised myself with what I can do more times than I thought possible; I've had a blast getting to watch really good CrossFitters do their stuff; and I've generally just enjoyed the hell out of every minute of the Qualifier and the Sectionals. And whether or not I end up qualifying for the Granite Games, I consider this whole experience a huge success and I can't thank the SISU coaches enough for making it possible.

And now you'll have to excuse me...I need to go refresh the Leaderboard for the 100th time and check the standings...

Granite Games Sectionals part 3: Drop it Low--On One Leg

Last winter, the Hubster and I stood in an ice arena parking lot talking to some friends after a women's broomball game the Hubster had coached.  One of the women was dancing around to someone's radio, and her boyfriend made a comment about "dropping it low."  When I responded with a puzzled look and a "huh?" (hey, I'm old and I don't get out much), the Hubster turned to his friend and said "see, Ace" (yes, that's really his nickname), "your wife or girlfriend isn't even supposed to know what that means."

Well, I still can't claim to fully understand the meaning of the phrase (but I do know what twerking is, thanks ever so much Miley)...but I think speedskaters and CrossFitters have their own definitions of the term.

For speedskaters, the goal in "lowness" is skating with a knee bend of 90-100 degrees. This sounds bad enough, but now try the CrossFit version, where "low" in a squat is defined as "below parallel to the ground," with the hip crease below the knee...or what CrossFitters  refer to as "ass to grass."

Now try it on one leg.

This is what is called a "pistol," and this is what was in store for us for Granite Games Sectionals WOD #2 (remember, we're doing them out of order).  An 8 minute AMRAP of 16 snatches, for us old ladies at only 55 pounds, then 16 pistols (alternating legs), then 10 snatches/pistols, then 6, then back to 16 again and so on and so on.

Well, for me this was looking like another "get to a certain point and then spend the rest of the time working on trying to get that one particular movement that you've never done before" WOD.  In previous WODs these movements have been 95 pound jerks, kipping pullups, and chest to bar pullups--and I'm happy to say that I managed to achieve all of them.

This time, the movement was left leg pistols.

I've done right leg ones once or twice, but because my left leg is quite a bit weaker (due, I assume, to an old low back injury that Coach TieGuy--who is a physical therapist--said had been causing my left glute not to work), I've never achieved a left leg pistol.  So I figured I'd be looking at a score of 17--the 16 snatches and one right leg pistol.

Per Coach Jason's advice, I spent a lot of time warming up and mobilizing for the pistols.  This included working on ankle flexibility, doing "perfect squats," and doing one-let "sit up get ups"  which I struggled to do on the left leg.  Then I tried a couple pistols.  I achieved a couple on the right leg, but none on the left.  Then Coach Alye lent me her "Olympic lifting shoes,"  which the coaches all said should make a huge difference.  And they did...but I still didn't get a left leg pistol.

And then it was time to go.  As I dashed to my bag for a last-minute-almost-forgot hand-taping (no sense aggravating those newly healed rips with snatches), Coach Pat yelled his final advice to me: "Don't be a pussy!"

I'm confident that I've never gotten that advice before an athletic competition before.

So the WOD started.  As I'd predicted, the 16 snatches were no problem; I even did them pretty much unbroken.

Then it was Pistol Time.

Right leg...

...and then left.

Well, attempting left, anyway.  There were some setbacks..

...or, more accurately, some fall-overs.

But eventually, miracle of miracles...

...I achieved a left-leg pistol.

After the first one I just jumped back into the right leg pistol, because that first left one had been pretty hard-won, and I figured that it was likely to be the only one.  And for a while I was right; I fell over and touched my other foot to the ground and generally floundered.  But then I hit another left one--and this time I couldn't help celebrating a little.

I believe I've been caught mid-celebration dance.

Eventually I made it through all 16 pistols; that's right, I did 8 left leg pistols.  Who knew?  I still had some time left, so I sprinted towards the bar...and right out of the camera frame.

Going...

...going...

...gone.

I can't tell if that's a fragment of  the 10 pound plate at the 

top of my final snatch in the upper right...

So my last snatch, before the final few seconds ticked away, was out of sight and therefore uncountable.  And then the timer rang and since I somehow was thinking that I had 10 minutes instead of 8, I was so surprised that I dropped the bar on my head.  Well, OK, not exactly dropped; technically I was still holding onto it.  Let's say I lowered it briskly onto my head.  At any rate, it hurt...but I really didn't care.

I had gotten eight left-leg pistols.  I had wildly exceeded my expectations for my own personal version of "dropping it low"--and getting back up.

Fail Day

Today was supposed to be the Granite Games Masters Sectionals WOD #4 :  a 4-minute AMRAP of 3 cleans, 3 jerks, 2 cleans, 2 jerks, 1 clean, 1 jerk at (for us old ladies) 95 pounds.

#4 didn't happen today.

However, at the risk of being accused of TMI, #2 did happen.  A lot of #2.  For both me and the dog.

Yes, it was a crappy day.

Which was  a shame, because it started out so well: a nice breakfast of Paleo waffles and microwave bacon (dog food and microwave bacon for Keira), then a walk with Keira in the park across the road, then some internet surfing (including, perhaps, intense studying of a quick glance at the Granite Games leaderboard.) WOD #4 was scheduled to happen at 1:30, so I planned to spend the morning relaxing and doing whatever sounded good.

Until, as I sat at the computer, I was suddenly the recipient of some very intense looks from a very agitated dog.  And then some whining and some random bouncing and head-shaking that was clearly intended to communicate a need.  Unfortunately, Keira is a bit dumb and this is as far as her communication goes; to further narrow down the source of the unmet doggy need, I have to become an active participant in the conversation.  In other words, I have to play "am I getting warmer" with the dog by walking towards the various things she might be wanting--food and outside are of course the biggies--and seeing whether the tail stops wagging or gains speed as I approach the item.

The Great Communicator, giving me her best "That's right,

I want something.  Good luck figuring out what it is." look.

Usually walking towards the food dish gets a vigorous wag, while walking towards the door causes the tail wag to slow and finally stop and Keira's head to droop as she clearly wonders how she got stuck with such a dim owner.  This time, though, when I walked towards the door she sprinted ahead of me.  Hmm, strange...we were just at the park...

Well, once we got outside it became clear why she was in such a hurry.  I'll spare you further details...except to say that by the time we got back in the house it was becoming evident that Keira's was not the only digestion that was malfunctioning today.

I'm blaming the bacon.

At any rate, by the time I got to SISU a couple hours later, my stomach was still not a happy camper, and my enthusiasm for tossing 95 pounds around was quickly fading.  But I figured that since I was there I might as well give it a try, so I started out on a 400 meter warmup jog--which quickly turned into a 100 meter warmup walk.

It's not a good sign when you DNF the warmup jog.

Things did not improve when I actually got a bar set up and started warming up for the cleans and jerks.  The lighter cleans were OK, and the first jerk was fine.  But this WOD called for three cleans in row and then three jerks (rather than three combined clean-and-jerks), and so on down the ladder.  This meant lowering the bar from overhead to front rack position between jerks (rather than dropping it unceremoniously after a clean-and-jerk as usual).  And lowering weight has typically been what my shoulder objects to most. As soon as I lowered the 65 pounds from completed jerk back to front rack position, my left shoulder/bicep tendon/whatever it is reminded me in no uncertain terms that: 1) I had forgotten to take my Advil pre-WOD; 2) it was still not happy with the kips and chest-to-bar pullups I had made it do yesterday; and 3) there was no way it was going to participate in lowering 95 pounds from overhead to front rack.

No way.

Still, I worked my way up to 95 pounds, cleaning the bar, doing  a jerk, and then dropping it, just to see if I could complete the WOD by cleaning the bar up before every jerk.  By the time I got to 95, though, the clean was barely happening and there was no way I was going to get that bar overhead.

And besides, my stomach still hurt.

So I went home.

After a couple hours at home, though, I was feeling better, so I decided to try to upload my WOD video so I could send my score in.  We have a data limit on our home computer, so uploading videos is a "find the free wi fi" sort of thing.  Can I help it if the nearest free wi fi is in a McDonald's?  And you can't just go into a McDonald's and not order anything, right?

Which is how I found myself enjoying a very tasty but definitely not Paleo hot fudge sundae while I attempted to upload my video (clearly my stomach had recovered, even if my willpower hadn't).

Unfortunately, the video uploading was no more successful than the workout had been--I couldn't remember my YouTube user name and password so I couldn't upload the video.  So in the end the hot fudge sundae was in vain.

But it was still pretty good.

So then I came home and attempted to turn in my score from last night's wall ball/C2B WOD; Coach Alye had taped that workout on her iPad because mine was being used as the timer, and she had emailed me the link.  So I put  the score and the video link on the Granite Games website...but put in the score from the dubs workout and the video from the wall ball workout.

Obviously I should not have bothered to get out of bed today.

After a panicked email exchange with the good folks at the Granite Games (who assured me that I could just link the correct video anytime before the scoring closed on Sunday), I decided to watch the video of the wall ball/C2B WOD.

O.  M.  G.

I suddenly have even greater respect for any coach who has ever worked with me...not just for being able to teach me anything (I tend to be a bit clumsy, you know), but for being able to watch me attempt various physical activities--whether CrossFit, speedskating, broomball, or any other activity I've ever done--without simply bursting out laughing.  I know it was me that I was watching, but by two minutes into the video even I was laughing so hard I was almost crying.

Why?

I make everything look so freakin' hard.

All body parts activated and flailing.

Whether it was the "full body wall ball shot, using every muscle from tiptoes to fingertips" or the "kip and flail and thrash about until some part of your chest nicks the bar" C2B pullups, every movement was an epic, monumental task, full of strain and effort and force.  For those who might be saying "don't be so hard on yourself"--I'm not.  I'm actually impressed at the effort I appear to be putting out, even if 80% of it is wasted energy.  Just think how good I could be at stuff if I could stop using all those irrelevant muscles!

So anyway, I thoroughly enjoyed the videos (I went on to watch the dub WOD video), and they renewed my resolve to keep working at this stuff and getting better at it.  And to eat less hot fudge sundaes.

As for the Granite Games, I've got WOD #2 tomorrow, and then we have a make up session on Sunday where I can once more attempt the clean and jerk WOD (with a nice dose of Advil on board).  So really, even though today was somewhat of a Fail Day...it's all good.

Granite Games Masters Sectionals WOD 1: "WHAT to bar pullups?!"

The Granite Games Masters Sectional WOD 1, like WOD 3, was fairly straightforward:  a 10 minute AMRAP (As Many Reps As Possible) of 30 wall ball shots, and 7 chest to bar pullups.

Wait...what to bar?  I could barely get my chin above the bar two weeks ago in the Online Qualifier--and now you want me to get my chest to the bar?  Clearly, I was looking at a score of 30 for this WOD.  I figured I would complete my first 30 wall ball shots and then spend the balance of the 10 minutes flailing around like a beached crappie in desperate--and futile--kip attempts.

I did get some good advice for tackling the WOD, though.  At the end of this morning's WOD 3 session, as we all sat around sweating, Coach Pat--who is competing in the Masters Sectionals and had just put on a very impressive clean-and-jerk performance--delivered this sage advice.

"What you want to do for chest-to-bar pullups," he said, "is stuff your bra."

Um...

"Yeah, the less distance you have to go, the better.  At least a padded bra...or maybe two...."

Uh, all right, I'll take that into consideration...

That advice notwithstanding, I figured it would be a good idea to at least try a chest-to-bar before the WOD.  Just, you know, to confirm that I couldn't do it.  So I asked Coach Jason if he would watch my attempt and give me suggestions.

"Sure," he said, "but there are no magic tricks for this one." (He must not have heard of Coach Pat's idea.)  "You just have to get stronger."

Damn.  While I'm definitely getting stronger, clearly not enough of that was going to be happening in the half hour before my turn to tackle the WOD.  But I jumped up anyway and gave it a try.

Kip.  Pull.

Nope.  I had a good foot or so more to go to get my chest to the bar.

But then someone suggested I try an underhand ("chinup") grip. So I did.

Kip.  Pull.

And a nod and a "yup, that was one" from Coach Jason.

Holy carp, I actually did a chest-to-bar pullup!

And then, after a bit of a scuffle with the technology required to video two people doing the WOD--both of whom needed to be seen both at the wall ball wall and when hanging from the rig, and both of whom also needed to have a timer visible in the frame but the timer was on the wrong wall, necessitating a timer download onto my iPad--we were ready to go.

I've done "Rx" weight (not "scaling" by using a lighter weight) wall balls exactly once, and I remembered that it took a full body effort--including actually jumping--for me to get the ball over the nine foot line.  Wall ball shots require that you go into a full squat with each attempt; failing to squat below parallel, failing to hit the wall, or hitting the wall below the line all constitute the dreaded "no rep" and will not be counted.  (Jumping is optional.)

The first 10 wall ball shots went fine; in fact, I think I actually did 15 unbroken.  Then the wheels came off a bit and I had some issues: a couple "no rep" shots; several where I caught the ball low (instead of up in the "ready to go again" position) and had to reposition before I could throw again; a couple of overly-long pauses to breathe; and one of those fun throws where you don't quite catch the ball and get 14 pounds of vinyl-covered wall ball to the nose.

Feet off the ground.  I'm still in wall ball Hell while the guy doing

the WOD at the same time as I am has advanced to

chest-to-bar Hell.

And then all 30 wall ball shots were done and it was on to the pullups.

To cut to the chase...I did all seven of them.

True, it took quite a bit of time, some lengthy pauses between attempts, and several "no reps"--but I got through them all--once again demonstrating some truly, um, unique technique.

I seem to remember being told that one's feet should remain together and 

relatively still during a kip.  Oh, well...

No, his shirt is not exhorting you to do something lewd and 

biologically impossible; remember, some of the SISU shirts

say "unsuck yourself"

Then it was back to the wall balls.  Since I truly had not expected to be picking up the ball for a second set of 30, neither body nor brain were quite up to speed at the start of the second set.  Coach Jason, who was counting reps for me (and occasionally "no repping" with great vigor) told me to get 10 and then rest.  So, with a couple of pauses and a "no rep" or two, I struggled through the first 10 wall ball shots...and then dropped the ball and went to the pullup rig.

Oops.

Once I had been hauled back to the wall to finish the remaining 20 wall ball shots, things progressed slowly.  My forearms were pretty tired by this time, so catching the ball in the ready position and then dropping immediately into the squat for the next rep was becoming impossible.  I got a lot of "no reps" (I haven't watched the video yet, but an audible cuss word or two might have sneaked in there during some particularly frustrating attempts), but I finally finished the second set of 30 and went back to the rig.

That line is looking mighty far overhead at this point...

I made a couple more attempts at chest-to-bars, but despite kicking and flailing and using pretty much any muscles I had left (whether they should actually be involved in chest-to-bars or not), I was unable to get any more reps.  So I ended with a score of 67...and the very satisfying feeling of knowing that, once again, I had achieved something that just an hour ago I would have said was completely impossible.

Not bad for a Thursday evening.

Granite Games Masters Sectionals WOD 3--Jump!

If you're confused about where WODs 1 and 2 went, don't be.  All four WODs were released last night, and we have until Sunday at 7 pm to complete all four, in any order.  The SISU coaches chose to have us do WOD 3 first.  So there you have it.

Oh, also, the SISU coaches will now be known by their real names: Jason, Pat, Alye and Tyler.  These guys rock, both as coaches and as athletes, so I'm breaking with my usual tradition of not naming names because they deserve all the credit and recognition I can give them. Doing these Granite Games WODs has made me acutely aware of how far I've come in 11 months of CrossFit, and the SISU coaches are to thank for that.

The Granite Games Masters Sectional WOD #3 can best be described in a single word:  JUMP!  (I apologize for the Van Halen earworm you older folks might now have).  It was a pretty straightforward WOD:  200 double unders (hereafter referred to as "dubs," because it saves me many keystrokes and let's face it, it just sounds cooler), followed by as many Box Over Burpees as could be completed in what remained of the six minute time cap.

For me, I was pretty sure this would be "none."

I can do dubs.  I can even, thanks to making consecutive dubs my SISU Challenge goal and really wanting to avoid the 100 Burpee penalty for failure, do consecutive dubs.  Sometimes. While I can sometimes string together 10-15 dubs, there are other times when I can make 5-10 fruitless attempts in a row to get even one.  In fact, of all the WODs I've ever done, those containing rope jumps--singles or dubs--have consistently been the most spirit-crushing (as opposed to body-crushing).  Whether it was the time I DNF'd "Angry Annie" or the time I had to do 600 singles as a scale for not being proficient at dubs and, despite stringing together a record 100 unbroken singles, still managed to be working on finishing the final 25 jumps seven minutes into the next class--jumping WOD's consistently get my vote as "most likely to cause me to break the "there's no crying in CrossFit" rule.

Unfortunately, a "spirit crushing" WOD was not exactly what I was looking for this morning, since my spirit was a little frayed around the edges anyway (non-CrossFit "life stuff" in the form of parental health issues). But when Coaches Alye and Pat arrived to take a crack at Sectionals WOD 4--a heavy clean and jerk combo--and Coach Jason asked me if I wanted to try that one as well, I realized that dubs were probably the easiest thing to attempt given my current lack of aggression and positive mental attitude; it would take a lot more "head in the game" to clean and jerk 95 pounds than to jump over a rope.

So I jumped.

And it actually wasn't as bad as doing a jump WOD in class, because there was no one to compare myself with; no one to watch fling down their rope as they moved on to the next part of the WOD while I futilely tripped and stumbled my way to the end of the dubs or the end of the time cap, whichever came first.  And none of my fellow 50+ women had uploaded their scores yet, so I truly had no idea what to expect or what to shoot for.  All three coaches repeatedly exhorted me to "get through those 200 and get at least one Burpee,"  but I don't think it was just my low mood talking when I mentally (I know better than to say these things out loud!) responded "yeah, in my dreams."

And in the end, I was right.  In the end, there were six minutes of takeoffs...

and air time...

and rope untangling...

and catching my breath.

I'm pretty sure that just doing 8-10 consecutive dubs should not be this exhausting, but in my usual indiscriminate physical style of throwing every conceivable body part at an exercise, I'm quite sure I was consistently clenching a whole lot of things that didn't need to be clenched in order to clear the rope.  Coach TieGuy used to remind me frequently to "RELAX!"  when I was skating (yes, usually in all caps and with at least one exclamation point), and when Coach Jason reminded me of the same thing mid-WOD it did help; I'm pretty sure I waste a whole lot of energy being tense.  All force no grace, you know.

At the end, I completed 113 dubs.  When the timer rang I flung down my rope and, in best CrossFit tradition, dove for the floor to assume the "Post-WOD Dead Possum" posture.

Since we have to do video submissions of our WODs, and I had no one to take pictures, these shots are "still captures" from the video--so I was fortunate to be able to achieve my collapse mostly out of range of the stationary iPad that was filming...

...until, in a scene reminiscent of "The Wizard of Oz" witch-under-the-house shot (except with better shoes), all that remained visible was my feet and the rope.

And there we shall leave me until the next WOD...which will happen tonight, eight hours after the first WOD.

I can't wait!

I'm Not Worthy

At the end of the 2006-2007 long track skating season, at the Masters World Allrounds in Calgary, I skated a Personal Best 3K--4:57.57, my first sub-5:00 3K.  Shortly after that PB, I realized that the qualifying time to skate the US National Championships--the same event that, every four years, becomes the long track Olympic Trials--was just five seconds faster than that, at 4:52.  So--holding my breath to see whether he'd laugh--I mentioned to Coach TieGuy that perhaps my goal for the 2007-2008 season should be to skate the US Championships.  When he didn't laugh but said he thought it was doable, I spent all spring and summer of 2007 training to make the qualifying time.  I flew to Calgary in August (after not having skated long track ice for over five months) to attempt to make the time. I had two shots at it.  My first 3K was too slow by one second; in my second attempt, a day later, I made the qualifying time by .72 seconds.

So I happily called home and told hubby and sister and parents and coach that I'd made the qualifying time and would be skating the US Championships in Salt Lake City come late December.

And then I promptly started freaking out.

This was The US Championships.  Olympians would be skating, as would the National Team. Sure, there would be others like me; those too young or too old or just plain too slow to be competitive, those for whom the thrill was just being there.  So I wouldn't be the only one who had barely made the qualifying time and who was clearly not in contention for anything except avoiding last place--but I still couldn't shake a very pervasive and persistent feeling of "I'm not worthy."

There is, of course, a reason I bring this up.

Yesterday, in my inbox, I got an official invitation to the Granite Games Masters Sectionals (for those of you who haven't been keeping up, it's a CrossFit competition).  It came as no surprise; I knew that the top 25 women in the Masters 50+ category would be invited to compete in the Sectionals once the Online Qualifier was done, and since there were only 18 women actually signed up in the 50+ category, it didn't take a lot of brain power to realize that I'd be invited.  So I expected the email.

What I didn't expect, when I began the online process of accepting the invitation, was the immediate resurgence of the "I'm not worthy" feeling.

Not feeling particularly worthy here, either...

True, I hadn't finished last of the 18 (I ended up tied for tenth).  And I had surprised myself a few times in the Qualifier workouts, most notably with the clean and jerks and the pullups.  Still, I couldn't--and can't--shake the feeling that I'm really not good enough to be doing the Sectionals and, with any luck, possibly going on to the Granite Games.  I mean, those are for people (like the two SISU coaches and three other SISU athletes who qualified for Sectionals) who can actually do this stuff--and do it well.

Me?  I certainly, quite often, don't feel I like I can actually do this stuff, and in fact I still often have days where I feel that I, in some ways, suck at CrossFit.  True, there are moments like the one this morning when I realized, at the end of the WOD, that I had just done 54 power snatches at 70 lbs--which was my one rep max just two weeks ago.  Unfortunately, these moments are nicely balanced by times like 10 minutes earlier than the snatches this morning, when I proved to myself yet again that I am completely incapable of doing a handstand pushup.

Despite my continued lack of ability to perform some of the standard CrossFit movements, I'm not worried about embarrassing myself.  That would only happen if I didn't do my best; if I did the WOD's half-assed.  And that won't happen--believe me, I've worked too hard on this ass to only use half of it! (Yes, that's a "skater butt" joke.  I believe I'm entitled to make them now and then.)  I'm just afraid that my best effort will be, well, somewhat out of place with everyone else's best efforts.

So now is a really good time to remind myself of how my 2007 US Long Track Championships went.  Yes, I went to the meet, and the Hubster and Coach TieGuy went with me.

Coach TieGuy explains something to me, post-race

 I wasn't last and I skated PB's (Personal Bests) in 4 of the 5 distances.  And now, almost seven years later, that meet remains one of my best memories from all of the skating events I've done.  My friend Andrew made a video of the meet, and although I've posted the link to it before it's worth repeating...2007 USA Long Track Allaround Championships.  Yes, the guy in the tie is, of course, Coach TieGuy, and when you see him, towards the end of the video, skating backwards (in full suit and tie) and apparently exhorting a rather stiff, upright skater in black and blue to "for God's sake, glide," well, I am, of course, the skater in blue.  And although I cringe a bit every time I see that video because my technique is so bad, so out of place...I also, every time I hear the opening notes of Andrew's chosen soundtrack, "Sweet Child O' Mine,"  can't help but pause for a moment, and smile, and relive a bit of that weekend again...and be very grateful that I didn't let my feelings of unworthiness stand in the way of my having one of the coolest experiences of my athletic life.

So this weekend, when I tackle the four Sectionals WODs, don't be surprised--especially if the WOD contains an "I can't do it" movement like Toes 2 Bar or Handstand Pushups--to see me hum a few bars of "Sweet Child O' Mine" before I chalk up, approach the bar and, for better or for worse, give the WOD my best whole-assed effort.