The Right Time

"Do not wait. The time will never be "just right". - Napoleon Hill

The right dress. The right handbag. The right shoes. The right shade of lipstick. The right hair color or texture. The right shoes.  The right mate. The right conditions and many more other "right things."

Call it being a woman. Or call it good old human nature. We want all the conditions to be just right. But is there ever such a thing? 

To go after one's dreams. To pursue the love of one's life. To decide to be a better parent, spouse, daughter, son, brother, sister, friend. To decide to be a better person, is there such a thing as the "right time"?

Weeks before my elements classes at Crossfit Pintados Cebu, my husband helped me prepare myself mentally and physically. The  Crossfit YouTube tutorial videos and Crossfit Journeys  we watched was our everyday soul food. He thoughtfully bought me all the gear I needed: Crossfit Nanos, tank tops, dry-fit shirts, sports bras, shorts, socks, head band, water bottle and recovery drink.   At the time, there was no available retailer in the country that we knew of that sold the prescribed Crossfit shoes. So he ordered it from Rogue, had it shipped from the U.S. via a private courier to ensure the safety of the package. We paid a fine sum for the shipping. But it was all worth it.

My decision to do Crossfit was borne out of the terrible ordeal we went through with Typhoon Haiyan where our house was ripped to shreds, and we had to evacuate in the middle of the typhoon to our neighbor's house, my husband and me carrying our two boys with special needs. I realized how easily our life could have been taken in an instant. But we are still here and very much alive. It's amazing how an ordeal such as this could bring things into a much clearer perspective, which is to know and fully be aware that what is important is immaterial. I decided to be healthier in mind and body. I decided to live a life that is not just  disease-free but one where I have optimal physical and mental health so that well into my late years, I can still meet the needs of my two boys. However much they will need me. They deserve that without question.

Crossfit is not a leisurely walk in the park.  It requires mental toughness more than physical strength. A mindset tougher more than anyone could ever imagine. This is why the amount of detail that my husband put into preparing me gear-wise is more deeply-rooted than me just looking good out there. Wearing the proper attire-- shoes, shorts, tank top, etc all make for creating a solid mindset that what I, we have decided upon was, is a decision of a lifetime. There was, is no turning back.

So it is that many have teased me about how it seemed as if I was a Rogue endorser since I was so "decked out" in Rogue gear. At the time I had no comeback of any kind save for a sheepish grin. But here's my response now: I need to wear the proper shoes so I can do my squats, which is the foundation of all movements in Crossfit, the right way. I need to wear a breathable top and bottom apparel so I do not overheat when the WODs get the better of me. I need to wear a head band to prevent sweat from searing and drenching my eyes blurring my vision. I can't have blurry vision when I jump on that 30" box. Who wants to get unnecessarily injured or harmed in the process of becoming more fit, more strong, more healthy? Certainly no one.

Am I saying, you all should get decked out in Rogue gear? Of course not. The great thing about deciding to change for the better  by becoming physically stronger and healthier is that you begin to discover a plethora of ways and means to achieve that goal, including and beginning with acquiring the proper attire from your head gear down to your proper sports shoes. Becoming better need not require hard-to-access requirements. All it requires is a generous amount of initiative on your part to take the first step. Whether it's  a selection of apparels from Rogue or an easily accessible website such as Zalora, (yes, they have a selection of sports apparel) all that really matters is that you decide to become better.  Check out Gearbox PH as well while we're at it.

You may be saying now, "What is she, a product endorser now?" Aren't we all for all our beliefs and faiths in various things theoretical, material and immaterial?  What I can say to you  is that  I am  certainly on a mission. If this blog is of any use, I will use my words so others will be challenged to decide to become better, stronger, healthier in mind and body. I'm on a mission to stay steadfast on the course of becoming a better person, stronger and healthier in mind and body. And on this road I have chosen to tread on, I adamantly hope that others join me in this journey as well.

To grab life by the collar and to refuse to live a life that is anything less than extraordinary, there are no "right" conditions. To decide to become a better person however you define "better" to be, there are no 'right' conditions.  Haiyan was what propelled me to decide to become a better person. Maybe Haiyan was the "right conditions", was the "right time" for me. But I choose to look at it this way, that it was  a second chance  to know and realize that to just be alive  is the only  "right" condition.

"Do not wait: the time will never be 'just right'. Start where you stand and work whatever tools you may have at your command and better tools will be found as you go along."

- Napoleon Hill

The First Rule

     The first rule in Crossfit is to talk about Crossfit. We joke about this every time. Because it is true. We who have joined this wonderful, amazing, beautiful world of Crossfit do talk about it. All the time. We read Crossfit journals. We watch countless videos. We research. And then we share it on Facebook or Instagram. We try to convince other people to do Crossfit. We spread the love of Crossfit by word and deed. Then we talk about it some more. Some call us a cult of sorts.

      But I would like to think that for the most part, we talk about the essence of Crossfit. What Crossfit has done to our lives. What significant and powerful changes it has made in our body and mind and even in our spirituality. Because above and beyond all the journals, the videos of the athletes, the articles, the tips on doing that perfect, power clean, deadlift,  snatch or jerk, are the stories of transformation and healing. This year, there is an estimated 10,000 Crossfit affiliates all around the world. Imagine the number of stories from those ten thousand boxes. Such an abundance of healing and transformation. All one has to do to get a daily dose of positive energy and perhaps find the catalyst for personal change for those who are still seeking it is to listen to those stories. And listen well.

     My own story is simple. I am by no means athletic. Growing up I was made fun of by my cousins because I was the slowest runner among them being a chubby kid. While I grew out of that "chubby phase", I was for the most part sedentary where P.E. all throughout school was just a requirement that I had to pass.  At age 23, I got married, had a beautiful boy in 2005 and another beautiful boy in 2008. Both have autism.  In November 8, 2013, our house was ravaged by Typhoon Yolanda. In the midst of the storm we had to run from one room to another as the ceilings collapsed one by one, me carrying our younger son all throughout until we had to evacuate to our neighbor's house. Suffice it to say that the greatest lesson I ever learned from that disaster was that life could be taken away in just a split of a second. And this is why I questioned myself, "What use is this life if we do not live it with so much passion and purpose that "even death would even tremble to take us"?

     Yolanda was a wake-up call. I could no longer could live my life as passively as I did before. I could no longer place my well-being on external forces. I could no longer put the work of being happy on other people. With the needs of my two very special boys, I realized I had to step up in making sure that even well into my late years, I am still able to be by their side very alive and kicking sharply. But more than that, I decided that the only way to live was to live remarkably. To work with so much commitment and passion it does not matter that I would exhaust my emotional and mental energy at the end of the day.  To share precious quality time with people who matter in my life, who are able to make a better person. To choose the high road-- forgiveness, peace, grace, courage, hope.  

          This is where Crossfit fit exactly into my life. With every warm-up, mobility, lift, metabolic conditioning, in every single part of the WOD, the very purpose of Crossfit is to bring you to the very center of your being and demand you answer the question, "Why?" as in "why the hell are you doing this? What for?" And each time that you answer, "Because I want to be stronger, healthier, sharper. Because I want to be better", you find strength to lift that kettle bell one more time, to clean that barbell one more time, to nail that pull-up one more time.  This is the essence of Crossfit-- To always bring us out of our comfort zones, to drive us to the edge of our fears,  to grind us, to take the very best and worst of us, obliterate the very best and worst of our egos,  so we can break down and from that ground upon which we have fallen, we begin to heal, transform, become better individuals in and outside the box. Especially outside the box.
     
      The first rule of CrossFit is to talk about CrossFit. Maybe we are a cult of sorts. Personally, I don't mind. If that means that we are a community who strive everyday to live with passion, purpose and become better human beings and in the process move our society, our world to change, then yes, go ahead and call us a cult every damn day. After all, in the words of Charles Bukowski,

 "We are here to laugh at the odds and live our lives so well that Death may tremble to take us."

 

In Full Bloom

Life is not all roses in bloom.

The thorns are what make it worth it.

That is the entire point:

That we are made to question our strength, our identity, our humanity.

Who we are. What we are made of,

To bring us always out of our comfort zones.

To drive us to the edge of failure.

To question everything we have ever known
to be true and unchanging.

To change.

To go where the wind takes us.

To flow as a river flows through boulders, rocks, unexpected crevices.

To arrive at a place we may call home
For a time.

Because home is not just a place or a community
but a time in one's life.

That makes every moment precious so that
when the storms come

We are ready

To receive blows that leave us
gasping for air

With our hands grasping the mounds of earth,
dirt that smear our vanities, our pride.

To draw strength from that same earth.

To find infinite possibilities within ourselves.

To believe in those possibilities. 

To breathe again new and deeper breaths and then

To rise

This time stronger.

Wiser.

Better.

More human.

More beautiful

Like roses in full bloom.

"Life is not fair. But it is beautiful." - Patrick Mclean

Life is Short

"Ang Crossfit maka pa batan-on diay no?" (Crossfit does make you look younger.) This was the remark a fellow autism mom made to me last week. It has been two months since we last saw each other. It took her awhile to recognize me. I smiled and said ,"Yes and thank you," as graciously as I could.

Yes, Crossfit does make one look younger and so much more. I started doing Crossfit in our garage of June this year, took my elements classes in Crossfit Pintados Cebu in July.  The positive changes in my body and mind are the consequences of my decision to change many things in the way I live my life-- for starters, the way I eat.  I've decided to select more wisely the kinds of food I've been feeding myself. I've decided to end the denial that sodas and sugared beverages does more harm than good to my body. I've decided to accept the fact that while they give me instant gratification, the long term effects are detrimental. I don't need to watch the various demonstrations on YouTube how one brand of soda is used to clean toilets and remove vehicle rust. 

Nutrition and exercise in whatever form go together. All the time. Nutrition is the foundation. It doesn't matter how often you exercise, how many miles you walk or ride your bike or Zumba your ass off. If you feed your body junk, the effort you put in burning those calories will be junked as well.

I've gone down two dress sizes. But I haven't weighed myself. I don't weigh myself. The dress sizes pretty much speaks for itself. Besides, it's not the pounds shed that I am after. Contrary to what most people who do not know me believe, I'm not doing CrossFit so I can wear a size 3 or 4. And I am not sharing this to rub in the idea of me slimming down. 

I am sharing this to spread the word that we can do better in the way we eat, in the way we go through our daily routines, in the way we move, in the way we love and care for our family. We can do better. As Camille Leblanc-Bazinet, Reebok CrossFit Games 2014 Fittest Woman on Earth has so eloquently said, "We just need to make one better decision every single day."

No, I am not saying you should do Crossfit. Because not everybody can handle it. And that's fine. There are certainly other ways to be healthy.

But we have to make the decision to make one better decision every day. Does that make sense? Decide to decide. And then establish our "why". Come up with a deeply-rooted answer. "So I can wear a bikini and rock the jeans I wore before I got married"  and the like does not count as deeply-rooted. Sorry. It just doesn't. We can do better than that.

Do what needs to be done. Stop procrastinating. Life is short. Three days ago was exactly one year since that massive earthquake in Bohol.  In less than a month, it will be the one year since Typhoon Haiyan/ Yolanda. Life is short. Do not forget what it felt like when the winds ripped everything apart. Do not forget how our lives can be taken from us in a split second. Do not forget. Remember what is precious in your heart. Do what needs to be done.

Trust the process. All else will follow.

My Truth

If CrossFit has taught me anything, it is to constantly ask, "Why am I doing this?" "What for?" Because if I don't,  things will fall apart. Maybe not right away. But eventually.

Establish your why for doing Crossfit. For doing the warm-ups without waiting for your coach telling you to. For lifting that barbell many many times even as your body defies you. For running three rounds  of 400 meter runs even as your mental toughness or whatever is left of it betrays you. For incurring lashes just to get your double-unders right. Even as your breath is stripped down to the visceral level of a gasp.

Ask yourself why. Why you're working your ass off 8 hours a day, 6 days a week for an insufferable boss. Ask yourself why you're persevering in a thankless job that only takes you away from your family. Ask yourself why you are feeding your body junk. Ask yourself why you consider a doughnut a worthy treat for all your hard work. (It's not.) Ask yourself why despite countless betrayals in life, work, love,  you still carry on. Ask yourself why even when life throws a sucker punch and you are left gasping for air, you still manage to catch your breath and start all over again.

Ask why.

When the answers come, don't be afraid. 

Don't be afraid when the day turns to dusk, when storm clouds gather in your mind or in real life as answers often come during these times.

Don't be afraid  when you have nobody beside you but yourself, lying in bed, awake until the wee hours of the night.

Don't be afraid to ask the hard questions, establish the hard truths. Your truth.

"Sometimes your scars have a lot less to do with where you've been and a lot more to do with where you're going." - R.M. Drake

So where are you going with all this? What is your why? What is your truth?

Our two boys have autism. The world they will have to face when I am no longer around is uncertain at the very least.
I do Crossfit so I can be healthier, stronger, sharper in mind and body to better care for my boys. For a very long time. 

This is why I endure. This is why I persevere.

This,

 

is my why. 

What's yours? 

Ask yourself why. Find your truth. Your truth will lead you home.

I AM NOT AN ACTIVIST

I am not an activist. I got a D in current events in my senior year because I was that apathetic. But life happened. 

So there's this. 

And then there's this:

http://kickerdaily.com/coco-martin-brings-pet-woman-to-benchs-degrading-fashion-event/

But then, I choose to go back and focus more on this:

Because I cannot do anything about the choices of the people responsible and those who participated (audience members included) in the said fashion event.

Because being frustrated, disappointed, infuriated does not do the community any more good. But taking care of myself by making myself stronger will.

Because maybe, just maybe, whoever  reads this post  will choose to become stronger any way they know how. And in becoming stronger, they realize, if they haven't already,  that demeaning any woman or man, hell, any human being JUST. WON'T. DO.

I am not an activist. But I am an advocate. For women becoming stronger. For men becoming stronger. For our society becoming stronger, better.

Thank you Lisbeth Darsh.

Thank you, Life. 

"Self-care is a form of social activism; it is not selfish. It is the means through which we can transform ourselves and those around us." - Dr. Debra Rouse

Helen

Helen

400 meter run
21 kettle bell swings
12 pull-ups

3RFT. Three. Rounds. For. Time. 

Sweet, sweet Helen. No wonder you sunk a thousand ships. Wait, or was it launch?  It didn't help that our beloved Coach Jayson remarked, in an effort to comfort us,  "Rest while you run." Then he grinned, knowing full well the blatant irony of his words? We, on the other hand cringed, the way your gut twists right before a Calculus or Chemistry exam.

To say that CrossFit requires mental strength more than physical strength is an understatement. I am at war with myself starting at the point when I see the WOD on that darling piece of white board. So if I want to nail the WOD, and not just any WOD, a benchmark workout, be it Helen or any other female-sounding, seemingly harmless name, I need to pull myself together. How do I do that? I  find a string, find other pieces of strings and weave it together, until it becomes stronger, like a rope. And hang on to that rope. For dear life.

I thought of a very dear friend of mine who was pure solace for me during those crucial college years, who has done wonders for my heart for the past 14 years. I decided I was going to confront Helen for Helene and her precious, growing baby girl inside her belly. I decided that they both were going to be my piece of rope this time.

I did not reach the cut-off time of 14 minutes. My time was 15:03. But I finished it. I confronted Helen. In the middle of the run my mind was screaming bloody murder at my body.  Truth be told, I didn't even think of Helene, my friend,  while I was willing my legs that felt like 100 pounds each by the second round, to move. I was, with all effort, trying to sound off the voices inside my head that told me I couldn't do it, to give up, to give in to the pain.

12 years ago, I clearly remember Helene telling me,  "At the end of the day, you will have to face yourself. Alone. Yes you have loved ones around you who will be here for you. But you will have to face your demons. Alone." What she said stuck with me all through these years. The truth of it was undeniable at the time.

Now? More than ever.

Inside the box. 

To nail that 30" box jump,  that 100-lb back squat. To complete the three rounds of 400 meter-run. To lift that kettle bell 63 times. To pull my body weight up 36 times. The coaches are there to teach and guide me with the proper technique and form. My fellow Crossfitters are there to cheer me on. But I and I alone will have to do the work.

Outside the box.

To live and thrive with the reality of autism in our boys' lives, our lives. And many other equally significant challenges, in work, in relationships, we will have to do the work ourselves. The therapists, teachers, our family  and friends will be there to surround us with the various ways of dealing with autism and the many other life challenges. But it is we ourselves who will have to fight the good fight. 

Mental strength. What sustains this much needed mental strength? Not merely constant self-talk, that's for sure. Why am I doing this? Why am I doing CrossFit? Why would anybody else do CrossFit? Why do we endure the trials that come our way? Why do we persevere in this life?

Find out your "why". From there, pour out all the love you have inside you in whatever it is you have decided to do. And this is what will sustain that mental strength. This is what will sustain you. 

I tackled Helen for Helene, my friend. Thank you for being there when I needed a rope to hang on to. 

I decided to do Crossfit for my boys. But above, beyond and beneath it all, I am doing all this to become a better human being. Because Garret and Morgan need me to be one. Because when they grow up and face the world,  they need people who do everything they can to be better than who they already are-- kinder, more compassionate, more resilient, stronger.  More. Every single day. Because maybe, just maybe, in my quest to be healthier in mind and body, in writing this blog, I could somehow compel people to take the high road. And those people just might be the ones who will be around for my boys when I pass on.

The coaches say Helen will be back in four months. Hopefully when that time comes, I'll be strong enough to complete the run finally getting Coach Jayson's wise advice of "Rest while you run", swing that kettle bell way overhead and pull myself up without the help of two bands.

I am optimistic that I will be. Because today I am stronger than yesterday. Much stronger than yesterday. And how much more four months from now.

Helene, the face the launched a thousand ships. Now I remember. It was "launched" not "sunk".

Launch.

verb

1. 

set (a boat) in motion by pushing it or allowing it to roll into the water.

My boys. My little prince Garret and feisty king Morgan. The love of my life, Andro. My dear, dear friend, Helene, my family who gave me roots and let me spread my wings. You are my "why" in this life. You are the reason why I do what I do. Why I endure. You gave me that much needed push into the water so I can sail on my journey. You are the reason why I can face and overcome my demons, so I can be the better than who I already am. Everyday. Thank you.

Oh and yes, thank you Helen. And by Helen, of course I mean CrossFit.

27th August

To  find a place inside myself where nothing is impossible.

To draw strength from my core, to do things always with love.

To go one step further. And always one step further.

To know that ego has no place in the grand scheme of life.

To uncurl the fist and let the things that don't matter go.

To grab on to the things that do.

To hold it with a vise grip.

To find strength there and not be afraid to begin again

And again and again.

To trust in wherever the journey will bring me.

To discover, create, recreate my truth.

And in the process become a better human being. 

For my boys. For myself. 

For the love of my life.

For the people who love me.

For the people who I love.

To be grateful and always be grateful.

No matter what. 

Thank you, Crossfit.

Thank you Universe 

for Crossfit.

Five Things

July 1-4, 2014.  Four days straight. I accomplished my elements classes at Crossfit Pintados Cebu. To say that it was one of the most fulfilling experiences in my life is an understatement.

When the heart is full, it spills over. All over. Where do I start? Five things. Five things I learned.

This is the beauty of Crossfit. Or at least what Crossfit brings to my life.  It enables me to ponder, mull over, then apply. Reflect then live out. The best way I know how. And yes,  it fuels my love for words.

So, five things.

1. Fall softly, quiet yourself.
2. Push yourself from the ground.
3. Keep the bar close to your body.
4. Engage your core.
5. Fear is on the other side of life. 

Fall softly. Quiet yourself. 

Everyone's favorite. Burpees. When you land, land softly. Quiet yourself. Drown out the noise outside and inside your head. If it's burpee day, face it. But one thing's for sure, it won't get any easier if you keep on complaining and yapping. And you can't get through it if you you allow yourself to be drowned out by the noises: It's too difficult. It's too hard. It's so tiring. Why were burpees invented? Who the hell invented burpees?

So if you have to get down on that ground, go ahead. Fall. Your body may thud thunderously, but quiet your mind. Once you get this down to the letter, you can gather strength, the necessary strength to spring back up and hear the one noise that you need to hear, "One!"

Whatever challenges come my way, I need to quiet the negative voices saying, "Oh no, another one?" I need to silence my mind. Reset. Begin to breathe new breaths. With every new breath say, "Yes! Another one. And it's okay. I can do this." The challenge has been set. No use spending unnecessary energy on the why's. Just get down on the ground, gather strength from the quiet and spring back up with the solutions. And hear yourself say, "One!"


Push yourself from the ground.

When doing push-ups, push yourself up from the ground. Start from the ground, not from a plank position. Not up. That's why it's called a push-up not a push-down. 

"Rock bottom became the solid foundation on which I rebuilt my life." -J.K. Rowling

Life becomes so much more valuable when we lose it. By life, I mean, love, people, things, the muse, beliefs. There is no beauty in having it all. There is no beauty in perfection. There IS, however in struggle, in loss, in the process of overcoming, in kissing the ground, falling face first on the ground, with mud and grime on your face,  and then in the rebuilding.

Yolanda. And other Yolanda's. Rock bottoms. Plenty of them. Many more to come. It doesn't matter. What matters is I know now that all I need to do is to push myself from the ground. Keep pushing myself from the ground. Fall down, get back up. Down, up. Rebuild. Over and over again. And each time, learn something new. Every single time. With each new lesson, become stronger. Become more. Become better than who and what I already am today.


Keep the bar (olympic bar) close to your body.

Yellow elements. Lifts. Keep the bar close to your body. Lift it straight up. No rainbow-ing. Every inch away from the body is several pounds heavier.

There comes a point where one realizes crap doesn't deserve a space in a life anymore. Crap- some material things, issues, people, beliefs that are of no use, that don't make you a better person. You realize the true meaning of the adage, "Be yourself." Stay true to who you are. Stay close to those close to your heart. To whatever beats in synchronicity with the tempo of your heart. All else? Run away from it. Push it away. Because it's just deadweight. You don't need it. Remember what is important. Focus on what matters. Keep the bar close to your body.

"Run my dear from anything that may not strengthen your precious budding wings. Run like hell my dear from anyone likely to put a sharp knife into the sacred tender vision of your beautiful heart." -Hafez


Engage your core. 

Sit-ups. Push-ups. Pull-ups. Kettle bell swings. And all else. Generate power from your hips, from your abs, from your core, not your limbs. The limbs get tired. Easily. Strength from them wears out fast.

"Duty makes us do things well. Love makes us do things beautifully." - Zig Ziglar

There is no such thing as too much beauty in this life. We need more of it, even. Passion. Spirit. Heart. Don't do things half-assed. And by ass of course I mean the beast that's your heart.

Fear is on the other side of life.

The 10 kg kettle bell. The 12 kg kettle bell.  The 8 kg wall ball. The burpee. The olympic bar. The run. The plank. The 20" box. The sled.  My entire body weight. All of this, new to me, scary to me. Will I be able to carry it, swing it,  throw it,  pull it, lift my own weight?


I visited my papa's grave. Engraved on his tombstone is his favorite passage from Psalm 23.

"The Lord is my shepherd. There is nothing I shall want."

When Typhoon Ruping struck in 1990, I remember my mom and aunts repeating this over and over in prayer.  I was 10 years old. Until now, I could remember how the wind howled.

This was the psalm I chose to be read on my wedding. To say there are numerous uncharted waters in a marriage is just icing on the cake.

When Yolanda struck, I remember faintly chanting Psalm 23 quietly as I held Morgan in my shaking arms, Garret right behind me with confusion in his eyes, Andro bravely checking the rest of the house, thrown by the fierce winds but thankfully unharmed, as the ceilings collapsed one by one.  I do not remember how the wind howled. But I remember how the fear in my ears screamed like geese.

The night after Yolanda struck as we were doing our best to settle into fatigued sleep, I remember berating God. "Why?  Unsa may sala namu nimu? Have we failed you so greatly that you have to inflict this upon us?"

I was angry. I was scared. What next? For my boys. For myself. For my family.

Anger and fear.

These two are very powerful emotions. But they are only as powerful as the permission I give to them to be powerful. Yes, I need these two emotions. Because to be human is to feel all of it. Weep for all of it. Not just the happy parts of life. But the will to overcome is what is important. To overcome is what is important.

The only way to conquer anything is through it. Not around it or over it. Through it.

Fear is on the other side of life. And life is what I want. While I am still living.

"to love life, to love it even
when you have no stomach for it
and everything you've held dear
crumbles like burnt paper in your hands,
your throat filled with the silt of it.
When grief sits with you, its tropical heat
thickening the air, heavy as water
more fit for gills than lungs;
when grief weights you like your own flesh
only more of it, an obesity of grief,
you think, How can a body withstand this?
Then you hold life like a face
between your palms, a plain face,
no charming smile, no violet eyes,
and you say, yes, I will take you
I will love you, again."

-Ellen Bass-

So now, a resounding yes to kettle bells, lunges, sleds, box jumps, push ups, pull ups and all else I haven't had the pleasure of encountering yet.

Five things. Five pieces of affirmation:

To quiet strength.

To embracing imperfection and rebuilding.

To courage and grace.

To passion and love.

To life. 

A sixth one to sum it all up beautifully:

Here's to the beauty that is Crossfit.

The Beauty of All of It

Barbie on Crack.

8 box jumps
8 10 kg kettlebell sumo dead lift high pull
8 walking lunge with kettle bell (10 kg).
AMRAP 8 mins.

I was no barbie. Let me rephrase that. I was NO barbie. And I definitely needed more crack. This was my tired rant after last Saturday's WOD.

I scored 4. As in four pathetic reps in the 8 minutes.

And it seemed not a part of my body was not shaking right after.

A day after, my right arm ached. Two days after the left arm ached. Ached as in thank God for warm compresses and lacrosse ball massages and good old Salonpas (Methyl Salicylate l-Menthol Tocopherol acetate dl-camphor) patches. The cashier at the convenience store asked, "Unsa na ang naa sa imong bukton, ma'am?" (What's that thing on your arm?) I whispered, "I'm not 18 anymore. And this is what happens when you push your 33 year old body to do things you wished you would have done when you were 18." The cashier laughed.  I laughed too.

Because laughter is the best medicine. For bodily aches and psychological aches a.k.a pride.

And why was I at the convenience store? Apart from doing mama duties buying supplies for the boys, I was hoarding additional Salon pas patches. I am laughing as I am typing this.

It's Thursday now. No workouts since Saturday's WOD. Because I needed to recover. Because the body needs time to bounce back. Because there is a time for pushing oneself to the limits and a time for resting. Because one needs to reflect, to mull over, to simmer. Because one needs to be able to pull back, step outside the picture so one can see better. With fresh new eyes. With a renewed sense of determination. A clearer perspective. Because one needs to breathe in all that is good and bad and painful and let out one deep breath to expel all as well. So that one can be reminded of what is important. What is real. What is not. Sift. Re-sift. And grasp only what matters.

I admit. When the pain in both my arms still didn't subside three days after, I was scared. Scared that my body just gave up. And that that was it. Scared that I wasn't made for this. But it did yesterday. My body just needed time.

There is a time for everything. No need to rush. All things come when one is ready.

There is beauty in the breaking, in the undoing, in the mending. All the more in the waiting.

Immerse. Pull back. Sift. Re-sift. Repeat.

When does it stop? It doesn't. That's the beauty of all of it. 

In the Aching

June 11, 2014


"Be a celebration unto yourself." - Osho

My personal coach a.k.a dear husband was easy on me today. 7 kettle bell swings eye level and 7 rings to chest. As Many Rounds As Possible (AMRAP) in 7 minutes. I scored 8 plus 2 rounds.

"Not bad again", he remarked to me. The "again" referring to the Monday "WOD" where I thought I would die in the first rep alone. Blame it on the burpees. 

Today was a good workout. Considering I was emotionally drained from the work at the Center. New muscle aches will come tomorrow, for sure. And I find myself looking forward to it.

I am learning that it is in the aching where the healing begins.

And I am learning to celebrate myself. The little victories, progressions and most of all the various kinds of pains, aches of the heart, mind and body.

Formidable

Nemesis. \'ne-me-ses\

noun

Def. A formidable and usually victorious rival or opponent.

We all have one. We all meet one. Sooner or later.

Of all the "monsters" I have had to face in my life. I think I may have finally encountered my very own formidable opponent. It wasn't the agonizing labor of my first-born, and the eventual caesarian section and the succeeding searing pain in the scar as it healed slowly nor the subsequent  c.s. section of my second-born either. Nor was it the molar extraction I recently had. Nor was it the engraving of my boys' name on the flesh of my ribcage.

Two words. BUR-PEES.

Seemingly harmless, even comic word/s. Don't be fooled. It will wear you down like a mule. It will parch you dry as dry as the most arid of deserts. Not that I've been to one. It will create warring voices in your head that spins your left and right hemispheres out of control that make you cry out in exhaustion. No, not cry out as in "AAAAAH". I mean weep. Like fighting for every ounce of your strength weep.


But this afternoon at 5:30 p.m. I confronted the damn monster.  For the very first time. And I tell you it  certainly wasn't love at first sight.

If the internal reprimand on myself that went, "Why are you punishing yourself? Why the hell? What the hell?" is any indication of how the "first encounter" went, then you would know the entire story.

7 Wall Balls. 5 Burpees. As many reps as possible within 7 minutes. The seven minutes seemed like an eternity. But come to pass it did. And no, I did not pass out. I almost passed out.

Three days ago, an acquaintance asked me how the husband convinced me to do Crossfit. For those of you who may not be informed, suffice it to say that the husband is the outdoor, athletic one. Me? The total opposite of him. This was my answer to the question: "With everything that has happened, Yolanda and all else, I think everything just fell into place, meaning, I realized that I cannot afford to be weak when our boys need me to be at my best all the time. It's not enough that I am not unhealthy. I have to be better than healthy, stronger, more efficient, better than who I was before. If we can live forever for our boys, we will. But we know we can't. So this is our gift to both of them.

But, man, while I was doing the second rep of burpees, I could almost hear myself saying to my boys, "Can I give you another gift instead?"

The truth is, while I'm doing the WOD'S that Andro prepares for me, I cannot even think of my boys. Because with every  10th sumo dead lift high pull, every 5th burpee (I know, pathetic), I am at war with myself. The heaving and gasps of breath and sweat running down every nook and cranny of my body doesn't even come close to explicitly expound the battle I have in my head. Voices in varying decibels, the sharp and not at all considerate kind screaming at me I cannot even hear One Republic and Bono blaring, cheering me on in the background.

When I finish the workout, that's when I can think of my boys. My Garret and Morgan. I look at them playing with the water hose in our garage. Yes they play in front of me as I work out. And I don't know why but even as I collapse from sheer exhaustion, when I see Garret's eyes crinkling in delight, when I see Morgan's cheeks happily puffed up pink, I still manage to smile in spite of the battle I just fought with myself.  And a gentle and crystal clear voice inside my head resounds, "This is the answer to your why."

And this is when I am reminded that the pain I allow myself to go through with every WOD, is nothing, NOTHING compared to the struggle that my boys deal with with the world every single day. "Wa ra ni sa kiting", we say in our language.

This is what drew me to Crossfit. The breaking of one's ego. The purposeful breakdown of one's bravado. Because at the end of every workout, you literally fall on your knees. Weeping. Puking. Weeping. And once you're broken for the day, you see light. You gain insight. You are reminded of what is really important in life. You find out your why.

And then you retrace your steps and start all over again the next day for a different set of body breaking, ego-stripping exercises.

With every set, you get stronger. Better. Sharper. Humbler. More graceful. More discerning. Perhaps you may even be as formidable than your opponent. Maybe  even more victorious.

My WOD score: 5 Rounds + 2 Wall Balls. Within 7 minutes. Not bad, my husband says. "Really." I reply, part disbelief, part wanting to believe. But, belief won over. For self-preservation's sake, whatever ego I have left. (Wink!)

So to you, Burpee(s) (yes, it's actually just one word), you may have broken me today. You may have earned the title of "nemesis" in my dictionary today. But tomorrow and  the days after that, I'll be the one to hold that title. Four words.

FOR.MI.DA.BLE.


"I went into the woods because I wanted to live deliberately. I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life... to put to rout all that was not life; and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived." - John Keating quoting Henry David Thoreau in Dead Poet's Society

To Becoming Human. To Soreness.

"Be a human being. Celebrate your soreness." -Kelly Starrett

If my heaving, groans and gasps of exhaustion are any indication that I worked my severely out-of-shape ass off this afternoon, then I could be almost a quarter of what Kelly Starrett spoke of-- becoming a human being. As to celebrating soreness, I certainly am learning how to. With every 20th push-up, every 30th sit-up, every 10th pull-up and every 40th air squat. And clearly more of these and who knows what else in the coming days.

This soreness, this pain that I allow myself to experience adamantly reminds my lungs how they like the sweet taste of air, compels me to embrace life in every muscle stretched, in every joint and ligament awakened, to find and grasp with a vise grip that last ounce of strength down to the deepest most cellular core even when my body is screaming, "No more! No more!" To know life in every breath. To. Be. Alive.

To New Adventures. To Second Chances. To Life.

November 11, 2013. Three days after Yolanda, we evacuated to Cebu as our house was ripped apart and the living conditions in our city proved to be impossible for our two boys. In the days that followed, our lives changed dramatically, abruptly, tremendously.

The overwhelming weight of the reality of it all was too much to bear. But we bore it. With the love and kindness of family and friends. With the humanity of strangers from foreign lands, we were able to bear it.  One day at a time. We began to rebuild our lives, our house, everything that nature took its wrath upon.

Rebuild. To build again. To pick up the pieces and put them back together. To discard useless shards of whatever. To carry only what matters.

How does one start rebuilding? How does one begin the mending? The healing? I have no answers. All I know is that six months have passed and we are here now.

And all I know is that  we survived Yolanda, Haiyan, a rose by any other name. And the days that followed.

If there is one singular lesson I have learned from everything we have been through, it is this: To remember what is important.

What is important? What is my greatest truth? My boys. Garret and Morgan.

To survive the typhoon is to realize that I have been given a second chance at being the mother my boys deserve. To know I have been given the opportunity to do what I have been procrastinating to do for so long-- to make life an adventure, to make life a work of art, to live my life as a work of art. To be art. To be alive.

So yes, I've been attempting to work on my physical strength and stamina. Call it staying fit. Building strength. Recreating, reinventing my body. Crossfit. Something that is way out of my league, out of my comfort zone. I am not athletic by any means. But I have an able body. And muscles. Somewhere. (Haha.) And I have two boys who depend on me. Who will grow up to be bigger than me. Who will need me to be very much alive and, forgive the cliche, kicking. So I'll take any pain thrown at me to be the mama my boys deserve. And when the pain gets too be too much that it'll make me want to give up, I'll remind myself that today I am stronger than yesterday. And today was the yesterday I was afraid of, I was uncertain of. But today I am alive. And the kicking will come real soon.

So to the pathetic 22-pound kettle bell, to the sore muscles I did not know existed, to the joints and ligaments lying dormant for so long now awakened and stretched like hell, I will see you again tomorrow and the day after tomorrow and the next and the next. And I will work my butt off to do another 3 reps of ten lifts of you, darn you, with 3 reps of ten air squats and lunges, pull-ups and box jumps, even if it takes three shirts soaking wet and my breath going in and out hard and fast like I have never breathed before.

How does the rebuilding begin? How does one start the mending? The healing?

Could it be in the sweet delicious ache in every part of my body? That pain and that moment where my body is screaming "no more, no more!" Perhaps, this is where the healing begins.

So here's to new adventures. To second chances. To living my life as a work of art.

Here's to life.