Scared

From www.123rf.com 

No wonder why so many people have a hard time sticking to exercise programs. I’m somewhat of a veteran compared to most gym-goers and yet I have to confess that The. Gym. Is. Scary. It scares the living crap out of me. Every day.

The following is an admission of my fears and my failure.

Let’s start from the beginning.

About 9-months ago I sprained my knee and was sidelined from soccer and the hours and hours of cardio that we women love to do. Inspired by all my fitness friends, I decided to pick up weightlifting.

This was a scary first step. First of all, in my gym the women congregate around the treadmills and ellipticals and the men stick to the machines and free weights. Venturing into “that area” (the weights) meant I was typically either the only woman or one of three women lifting. The men were never rude or lewd—but you can tell that they’re always watching. I’d like to think that a.) I’m hot shit despite the fact that I haven't shaved my legs recently and b.) I have perfect form, but I know both are untrue. Maybe it’s like seeing the Loch Ness Monster—women are so rare in “that area” that the guys can’t stop staring.

So, I sucked it up and started lifting a couple times a week while following a vague program I found online. I literally had to talk myself over to the weights each time because it was scary. Lifting was new and different. Luckily, I quickly got the movements down and was feeling more confident. But after a while I knew I wasn’t getting stronger. Eventually my workouts digressed to the point that even a light day left me exhausted and unwilling. I felt like crap all the time—in or out of the gym.

I decided I’d had enough. I hired a trainer on November 1. Dave set up a great program with tons of movements and options. He specifically directed that if an exercise hurt or if I felt worse then I should stop immediately. Great. Sounds good. Whatever.

 “Updates? Successes? Progress? Questions?”

The first workouts went great. I felt strong, motivated, and I only had a few questions which were quickly answered. But a week and a half into the program and only a handful of workouts done, I got sidetracked. Again. Dave emailed me on Monday morning and asked how everything was going. “It’s been three weeks,” he said. “Updates? Successes? Progress? Questions?” I feigned that I was “too busy” to respond and dodged him for two days. In the end, I had to answer to him—and I had to answer to myself.

Why did I lose track after such a short time? It comes down to this…

I got scared.

The “what-ifs” overtook me. What if it doesn’t work? What if I can’t stick to it? What will people think of me? Why do I have to carry this stupid notebook around and track everything—do I look like an idiot? What if I don’t get stronger/leaner/better?

So I went back to what was easy and comfortable. I started running again and playing a million soccer games every week. Isn’t this how I got injured in the first place? Isn’t this how I lost track? I didn’t care. It was comfortable.

“Claire, I'm not mad; I'm just disappointed.”

I finally confessed to Dave that I got sidetracked. I literally asked him to yell at me. “I deserve it,” I said. Instead, Dave used the “d-word.” He explained, “Claire, I'm not mad; I'm just disappointed.” He asked how we can adjust the program. What will work better? How can I become more motivated? Even though I still wish he yelled at me, this struck home. The “d-word” is worse than yelling, tears, denial… everything. He’s disappointed in me and more to the point, I’m disappointed in myself.

Ouch.

“You just got not to be so… scared.”

I’m going to have to suck it up and conquer these fears. In one of my favorite movies, Strictly Ballroom (a chick flick, I know), the mother says to her daughter in a thick Spanish accent, “You just got not to be so… scared.”

The gym is scary. New programs are scary. Life is scary. But I can overcome my self-imposed obstacles and get better.

I'm going to hit the gym. I'm going to confidently use the free weights and carry around my little notebook. But in the meantime, I’m still going to avoid the gym crowds and hit the weights at 5:30 am or 9:30 pm. I may be getting stronger, but I can’t move mountains yet.

We Know More Than We Think We Do

Oftentimes, I feel like I don’t know anything. Seriously. I am just a mass of cells or whatever wandering around the universe with no purpose---and no intelligence.

Then someone asks a question and I’m able to quickly and succinctly answer them or, at a minimum, send them in the right direction.

So maybe we know more than we think?

For example:

1. At work, the editors who are technically above me constantly ask for my advice on everything from letters and book descriptions to how to deal with difficult authors. It’s amazing how much I know about the publishing business. If I can’t answer, at least I am aware enough to say, “I don’t know. Why don’t you ask x or check out y?”

2. Cooking. I freak out every year when it comes to planning meals for our Lake Powell trip. I don’t know why. I’ve become a significantly better cook over the last year (I could only go up from incompetence). However, when cooking at home the only person who suffers from a complete mishap is me or my roommates. When on vacation, the 5 of us eat only two meals---breakfast and dinner---and we eat well. Very, very well.

The good news, though, is that I’m not as intimidated by new recipes. I already have my two dinners planned. Breakfasts are a challenge since I never make them on my own. I don’t think the guys will be too pleased with my standard instant oatmeal or yogurt and granola. I’m actually excited to try some new breakfast recipes this weekend. If they don’t work, there’s always eggs, bacon, and pancakes---and you can’t go wrong with the classics.

3. I don’t consider myself a fitness expert by any means. I do admit that I’m more active than the “average” person (whatever that means). Living in Boulder, I usually think that I suck as 60-year-olds pass me on trail runs. Recently, though, a number of friends have asked for my advice on training---and shockingly, I can answer their questions as well. More importantly, answering their questions means sending them to more reputable sources.

So maybe we shouldn't sell ourselves short? No, I don't know everything nor do I profess to. But then again, I'm not a waste of space either.

I’m Getting an Edumacation

No, not the kind with books and chalk and teachers. (Who uses chalk anymore?) Been there, done that. I think my degree is buried somewhere at home. Instead, I’m getting edumacated about life.

With my time off from soccer, I’ve been able to hunt down some awesome informational sessions and courses in  Boulder—all of which are free. Hurrah! Where have I found these goodies? Full Cycle and REI. They are both the bomb-diggity.

(Confession: Now that I can play soccer again, I don't want to go back. I've been having too much fun off the field...)

Some of the things I have learned:

1. Triathlons. Wow. Where to begin? The most important thing I got from this session is that triathlons are expensive. You could show up with just your Wal-Mart Huffy mountain bike (but that would be frowned upon by the elites); or you could start racing with a "simple," beginner road bike (with a starting price tag of $1,000). It just goes up from there—specialized wheels, tri bars, carbon fiber... you name it. Then there’s the rest of the gear. A decent tri suit is at least $100, and then you need a wet suit for open-water swims at another couple hundo. And then there’s the entrance fee and required insurance for the actual race. See the progression here? It’s expensive. It makes sense why you never see young people in triathlons—they can’t afford it! However, for a 40-something that’s established and has some extra money to burn, triathlons and most importantly the cool gadgets are definitely a plus.

I think I’ll stick to my $200 commuter bike and cheap and cheery running races for the time being.

I'd be the person drowning

2. Bike Maintenance. I’m not gonna lie, I’m spoiled by my mechanic father and two older brothers. They’re so efficient in fixing things that I happily whine and complain until everything is taken care of. This, of course, means that I know nothing about maintenence myself. Even my little $200 bike leaves me baffled. It seriously took me 15-minutes to figure out how to put air in my tires the other day. Sad, but true. So, off to bike maintenance class! The course was also very informative. The most important thing I learned: A clean bike is a happy bike! So, my bike and I are going to have a pool party this weekend. Chain grease (dry, not wet!) and spare tire tubes will be involved. Care to join? Speedos and Bikinis required. Banana Hammocks preferred.

See the pump? I now know how to use that. Everything else is gibberish.

3. Nutrition. I went to a women’s nutritional course hosted by Megan Forbes and Full Cycle. It was fascinating! To sum it all up—eat lots of fruits, veggies, and foods without additives and preservatives. I pretty much know all of this, but it was really helpful just to see it specifically discussed and analyzed. I also found out that my daily multivitamin, of all things, was making me sick and nauseus. Yay for scientific coding. Oh yeah, we also feasted on catered duck confit sandwiches. Yum.

Mixed drinks contain juice so they're healthy, right? Right?

I’m also getting educated in the fact that I’m not young and invincible anymore. I am still sore. I may cry. I played indoor for the first time in months on Tuesday, I lifted legs, back, and biceps on Wednesday morning, and I’ve been close to tears ever since. It’s bad enough that I couldn’t sleep so I gave up and went to the gym at 4 am just to soak in the hot tub and sauna. Brutal.

Finally, I have to share my recent cooking conquests. As always, I get far too excited any time a new recipe is successful. My new favorite is the gem I cooked last night:

Helloooo, lover!

Homemade wheat pasta with cooked asparagus, roma tomatoes, and proscuitto

 
The homemade pasta was very time consuming. Not too hard, per say, but the time involved is questionable when you can easily buy a huge package at the grocery store for a couple bucks. I'm still glad I figured out how to make it!
 
I can barely draw in a straight line, much less cut noodles! Seriously, it's like squiggle play pasta in there.
 

Straight lines? P-shaw!

 
Other fun times in the kitchen:
 

Tomato soup with white wine

Skillet cornbread with hot chilis and cheddar cheese

Soup and cornbread---yum!

Exhausted and bored from reading yet? I am. And I'm sore.