I did a thing! I’ve spent the last year or so playing around with strength training because when I was recovering after my surgery I vowed to get into really good shape, to further investigate my fitness. I got some kettlebells from Onnit and discovered their Spring challenge: work for 6 weeks to complete a full fitness program then write a short essay to try to become a finalist in the competition. The winner of each category walks away with 6k in cash, 1k to the Onnit online store, a trip to their office in Austin, etc. All kinds of cool stuff.
Now, I’m not holding out much hope to be a finalist let alone win the dang thing, but the importance of writing the reflection essay at the end of it was impressed upon us by Shane Heins, one of the coaches. So, I did it, and boy was he right.
But! I didn’t realize that there were only 250 words for the submission. I had already written about 1200 and I had to pare it down. Melissa helped me a great deal with shaving off most of it to submit the core ideas and I was really happy with the end result. But, I wanted to make a record of the full thought process this challenge took me through. You will find that below.
Last year I had to start 2021 off by kicking cancer in the face. I mean a full, a full NFL kicker-like boot right between its stupid eyes. It was that or lose nerve function on the right side of my face. Teach 7th grade without being able to the eyebrow wave? Nah.
It’s been a long road since then. I taught remotely, I endured surgery and a month of recovery then radiation. It wasn’t fun. While I have a penchant for being an athletic masochist (yay marathons!), the past year has been particularly punishing for my body in a way that I’ve never experienced. I remember thinking in the hospital, when I needed a cane to walk, commuting an hour each way to Memorial Sloan Kettering: Man, I want to get in shape after this. Like really in shape.
Now, I was already in decent shape (except for that stage 2 carcinoma), but I wanted to push my envelope. I’d done a lot of running but I’d been skinny pretty much my whole life. I wanted strength, a whole-body fitness that felt good and gave quiet confidence. Glamour muscles? I’d rather be able to snap out 30 burpees and then chug a beer.
So here we are. I have several Onnit kettlebells but after the last year…it seemed more appropriate to just use my body. The body that carried me through 6 halves and one full marathon over two years, 29 races, hours of pounding the pavement, and then also through that surgery and the radiation and well, you get the idea. I’ve had and used this meat chassis for so long and expected so much from it I don’t know if I ever really stopped to appreciate it. Using, depending, solely relying on my body for each exercise brought a kind of moving mediation that is very different from running. It was hard, don’t get me wrong (even the level 1 stuff, sheesh!), but after each workout, I slept better than I have in months and after each session and especially when the yoga portions were finished there was a stillness I haven’t really experienced before. A calm appreciation and acknowledgment of the effort. That was new.
And it wasn’t the only new thing. I’ve got a foot-long scar on my left thigh and a pretty good one on the right side of my neck. I see these every day in the mirror, in the shower, in photos. But, and I hope this isn’t too cliche, the emotional scars are just as real albeit more subtle in their presence. The Challenge and its inherent requirement of such consistent discipline, have brought this difference into sharper focus for me. I have trouble asking for help. I struggle to admit weakness or acknowledge negative self-talk and feelings attached to that. I grin and bear adversity but I don’t really process it fully. This is problematic. References to cancer or illness or reminders of the last year are usually fine, but more often than I like, I get captured by them. Random bouts of tears, sadness, and worry about a recurrence of the disease can all overwhelm me. I’m not used to that. I’ve given myself such physical grace and time and peace to recover but I’ve neglected my mental well-being and recovery. Sure, doing EMOMs is tough. Staying on schedule is tough. But for me, seeking a therapist to help me process where I’m at…that’s tough. Probably why I should do it.
I’m an experienced runner but I haven’t really buckled into strength training for more than a couple of weeks at a time. This program has facilitated a tangible shift in my overall fitness. I’m moving differently, with more intention and ease, and the first 3-4 weeks of the Challenge provided a great foundation. Now, I feel like I can start to push the workouts, and really aim to redline once or twice a week in ways that I’ve never been able to before. The first EMOM in the Challenge killed me; I was sore for almost a week and I only did 4 reps. Yesterday, I smashed through the week 6 EMOM doing 8 reps. It hurt, I was out of breath, and it was oh so glorious.
Even before this essay prompt was posted I’ve been considering how I feel on a day to day basis. Do I feel different? No. I feel better. I was espousing to my fiance the other day that I just feel…great. I attribute this to making those deposits into the body bank, something I’d only really thought about in passing before. In the past I knew that rest days were important and not to overtrain and all that, but taking deliberate time for mobility, to build durability with intention…that’s been hugely impactful. It’s helped me be more patient with my students, more open in my relationship, more grateful for being able to move each day.
I had a feeling that the community would be welcoming and I was (and am still) completely blown away by the inclusivity and the positivity I see there on an hourly basis. The Internet can often be a dark place and the Onnit Tribe has continued to be a consistent bright spot in my Facebook feed for the last 6 weeks. For the next challenge I want to actively post and participate more with the Tribe on Facebook. I have a tendency if not a reputation for keeping my cards close to my chest, but even though I only posted a couple times, I made it a daily habit to comment and interact with posts from the community. I’ve seen people using the group not only as an accountability partner but also to share their challenges and be vulnerable about their journey; the latter of which are both things I need to work on just as a human. I’m inspired to be more open during the next challenge and I think that should deepen my engagement and hopefully help to motivate others to do the same.
In closing, I just want to say thank you. Shane Heins said at the start of this week that writing the essay at the end of the program was a crucial part of the Challenge, and he was right. Reflecting on this experience has been nothing short of enlightening, inspiring, and cathartic. Similar to shoveling a snowed-in driveway, sometimes your head is down and you’re so fixated on the work you don’t realize how far you’ve come until you pause, take a breath and turn around. To push the metaphor, that driveway to fitness never really ends, but challenges and communities like this allow us to have that moment of reflection, to see our path, our journey, and be grateful. Yea, the grand prize is pretty incredible, but the continuing fitness journey we’ve begun together is more of a reward than I had planned for.
