Thursday, February 27, 2020

9 Months

Change takes time. I'm excited to see how much more I can change and do in the months to come.
This change has taken 9 months.

Guys.

So many hours of work, of tracking, of investment, have gone into this. I'm almost constantly sore. I'm almost always tired or uncomfortable in some way.

Pictures are worth a thousand words, but words can tell you more than just what the pictures show.

Nine months ago, I could not do a pushup. I can do ten now before I move to my knees.
Nine months ago, I could not run faster than a 10-minute mile. My easy pace is now sub 9, and my fastest mile time is 7:17.
Nine months ago, the idea of squatting with more than a hundred pounds on my bar seemed impossible. Two days ago, I did 5 sets of 5 with 160 pounds.

Nine months ago, I was 30 pounds heavier, but weaker than I have ever been.
A few weeks ago during a workout, we had to do several rounds with a weighted vest on. The vest was about 25 pounds. I could not believe how much harder everything was... and how I had carried that around with me on a daily basis.

Here's to the next 9 months.

May 2019
November 2019



February 2020

Wednesday, February 26, 2020

Good Timber

Yesterday, I was writing a blog post for a client who owns a tree care business. I like to write blogs on tree care because I have a little experience with landscaping, trees, transplanting, and trimming.

A lot of people don't realize that trees require a lot of skill to care for properly. Trimming them badly greatly increases their risk of getting diseases or infestations from pests. To trim a tree the right way, you need to have knowledge of how the tree heals itself, and what sort of cuts will make it stronger as it grows, instead of cuts that will take away its strength.

Trees are in it for the long haul. They can roll with the punches when they are healthy. A month without rain won't faze an established tree. They have roots of steel, and they have defense mechanisms to help them survive during times of drought or bad weather.

Trees aren't fickle like grass or delicate like flowers. If you give them what they need and don't take their legs out from under them, they can only get stronger with time.


So, what gives a tree that strength?

First, you take out anything that is dead or dying. Dead branches are literally dead weight that steal resources from the healthier parts of the tree.

Next, you cut back on new growth. New growth is good, but too much of it at once requires too many resources, so the tree's health suffers. It's like trying to run a marathon without training. Usually, removing about a third of new growth helps regulate the tree's resources a bit better.

Finally, and this is the tough part, you cut back good, established, healthy growth. You do this in order to make other parts of the tree stronger. But you have to get the balance right. You need to leave the tree strong enough to come back to full strength, to recover. You need to choose the right branches to cut away so that the remaining branches provide stability.

The losses during pruning wound the tree. It suffers, it develops a stress response, it stops growing to focus on healing.

But it's what happens after that is truly amazing. When done correctly, the tree can seal over the wounds, recover from the loss of canopy, and start to become truly resilient. The fruits and leaves that are left develop a new beauty that would not have been possible before. Over time, with repeated culling and cutting away, the tree moves from a rough diamond to the most flawless princess cut in a gold setting.

Sometimes, when people start working on a new goal, they think "What have I got to lose?" But there might be a better approach. You actually do have stuff to lose when you commit to something new.

You lose time. You might lose money. You could lose friends. You lose comfort. You lose the security of how you've always done things.

You've got a lot to lose. There will be pain as you lose it. There will be sacrifice. You might even end up sacrificing some strong branches that you depended on, that have been growing well and doing well for you.

But, what have you got to gain?

What will you give up to have those deep roots, that glossy foliage, that strength that keeps you steady through the droughts and winds and long winters?


The tree that never had to fight
For sun and sky and air and light,
But stood out in the open plain
And always got its share of rain,

Never became a forest king
But lived and died a scrubby thing.

The man who never had to toil
To gain and farm his patch of soil,
Who never had to win his share
Of sun and sky and light and air,
Never became a manly man
But lived and died as he began.

Good timber does not grow with ease,
The stronger wind, the stronger trees,

The further sky, the greater length,
The more the storm, the more the strength.
By sun and cold, by rain and snow,
In trees and men good timbers grow.

                                                                                   
                                                                                              -- Douglas Malloch

Good timber does not grow with ease.





Monday, February 17, 2020

If You Can't Say Something Nice

Okay, everybody, buckle up because we're about to talk about body positivity.

Yep.

You guys, I had a weekend. A bad one. Like... the one where you eat four cupcakes, decide not to track those cupcakes and then lay in bed thinking about what a failure you are, how you'll never reach your goals, and how you wish you could for once just stick with something instead of failing at it. And then when I looked at myself in the mirror, I did not like what I saw there. I know, shocking.

But then today, I showed up for myself like I always do and I went to the gym and I did all the squats and lunges Jeff threw at me (I might throw something at him tomorrow when I can't sit down to pee, but... I digress). I was still feeling a little negative. I was self-conscious about how my stomach poked out and how I still have that little bit of pudge that hangs out at the side of my arm.

And then, in between sets, I looked down at my pants. I was wearing a shorter shirt today, so I could see the very top of my pants where the drawstring was poking out. The drawstring has
a knot in it, which I tied about a month ago because my pants wouldn't stay up like they used to. The drawstring was 4 inches (4 inches!) tighter than when I first bought and wore those pants.

The pants spoke to me. They said, "Stop being an idiot, Julie, and get back to work. You've got nothing to be ashamed of."

Guys, if you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all.

Would you look your friend in the eye and say, "You're weak. I can't believe you didn't stick with your goals today"?

Would you look at your child and tell them they are ugly, or stupid, or that they'll never be good at anything or that they aren't as good or as worthy as other kids on the playground? No. You tell them they can work hard, that they have talents, that they have something to offer.

So the next time you feel like giving your body a hard time for being human (such a crime, I know), just don't. Humans make mistakes. They have stretch marks and cellulite and weak arms and emotions and injuries.

Don't be a bully. If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all.

Wednesday, February 12, 2020

When Will This Get Easier?

One of my favorite childhood books is Holes. You know -- the treasure that Kissin' Kate Barlow buried under a lake that is no longer a lake because Sam the onion man was killed for a crime he didn't commit, and Stanley Yelnats goes to "camp" to dig holes all day to build character/find the buried loot.

It's a great book. One of the parts of the book is flashbacks to the original Elya Yelnats, who lived in Latvia. He wanted a fat pig to offer as a bride price for the prettiest girl in the village. An old woman (Madam Zeroni) in the village gives him a runty piglet and tells him to carry it up the mountain each day to drink from the stream. He is supposed to sing to the pig while it drinks.

He protests that there is no way he can carry a full-grown pig up the mountain. But the pig isn't full-grown yet, says Madam Zeroni. Each day, he will carry the pig, and each day the pig will be bigger and heavier, but he will be a little bit stronger.

I never stopped to think if carrying the pig up the mountain was hard for Elya. But, even though he could manage it, it must have been an exhausting thing to carry a pig up a mountain every single day. I just thought, a small piglet -- easy. But I usually struggle to get my own self up a mountain, so carrying anything makes it harder. And then the pig got, not only heavier, but larger, making it more awkward and challenging.

Even though Elya probably did get stronger, I doubt the daily grind of climbing that mountain with that pig ever actually got easier.

Sometimes, usually in the middle of a rowing sprint or assault bike team challenge or a set of burpees or box jumps, I think, "I can't wait until doing this is easier."

But, I've been doing "this" for eight months. I wished it was easier at the beginning, and I still wish it was easier now. I've been carrying the pig for long enough that it should be a piece of cake, right?

I am MUCH stronger. Doing a pushup is possible now. Burpees are more natural. Pull-ups are coming along. I can row longer. I can run faster. I can lift more weight.

But stronger doesn't mean easier. And it really shouldn't ever be your goal for things to get easy, not when you want to get better.

Hard work will never not suck in the moment. And that's something that beginners like me might not understand. When you look at a fitness veteran and think, wow, they make it look so easy -- just know they are probably feeling like they are dying. They are just as tempted to drop the pig as you are. You both give your maximum effort, and even though you might be carrying a piglet and they might be carrying a full-grown pig, you'll both be tired by the time you get to the stream.