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."

 

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.