Back after a short hiatus (Recovery is Queen!)

Hi, all of you three people who read this blog!

It’s been a couple of weeks since I’ve blogged regularly and I’m here to explain myself with the following reasons:

  1. It’s actually summer for me. I work full-time year round, and September-June I’m also in school for a doctorate. So these past few weeks I’ve really been soaking up the summer vacation.
  2. I started a calorie deficit two weeks ago and it’s killing me! Not really, but certainly my enthusiasm and motivation is a bit lower than when I’m properly fed. So I mostly conserve my thinking energy for what really matters: My job, my friends, my family.
  3. I got my period this week. This makes me feel even more starving and grouchy, and my recovery is a lot slower than usual.
  4. I spent 30 hours last weekend moving heavy furniture and getting my impromptu creative juices flowing due to a furniture mishap in my office, which needed to be fixed before the start of the work week. That burnt out my body AND my mind, and threw off my training for the week.

That’s kind of what I’m here to talk about today- not the burnout part, you can read last week’s entry for that- but the recovery part.

As an aging athlete (with aforementioned full-time job, academics, and family) who is training for a challenging contest at a calorie deficit, my biggest priority is my recovery. This is all worth nothing if I lose my job and break my body and drain my energy sources and can’t recover. I have to remind myself: THIS IS A HOBBY! IT’S SUPPOSED TO BE FUNNNNNNNNNNNNNN

So when the Great Furniture Debacle of 2018 happened last weekend, and Monday I couldn’t squat for shit (but definitely peed), I took two additional days off from my training program. That’s right: I had taken Saturday and Sunday off from my program, and then when Monday went down the toilet I packed it in after those heavy squats and took Monday and Tuesday completely off.

When I say “completely off,” I actually mean it. My training partner, Rage Butterfly, spends her off days doing this, I’m not kidding:

I generally go out to [Local Wilderness Park] Thursday late afternoons for a trail run/swim/run, and tomorrow I’m going to throw in some heavy hill carries as well (I’ve got plenty of logs, sandbags, and an nasty bucket o’gravel) during the first run portion. Yes, the second run is wet, it’s good practice for [Spartan] race conditions. Run is under 5 miles.

You know what I did on my day off? I cooked a boatload of food, 20 meals for the week actually, and in between prepping sat around in the garden eating tomatoes off the vine. I did a load of laundry, took a hot Epsom salt bath, and talked with my brother for a couple of hours. My partner and I talked about whether we should paint the walls of the living room to spruce it up, and if so, what color. The biggest adventure was driving to Trader Joe’s with my bedhead still properly intact to pick up some staples I’d missed during the previous day’s grocery run. Later, I watched a couple episodes of a TV show and did some research on the internet for an upcoming vacation. I drank my fish oil and magnesium and was in bed by 10pm.

THAT’S my kind of day off.

Anyway, I have learned over the years that as much as I enjoy pushing my body, I have to really, really rest at least one day per week. No stress, no plans, no obligations, and certainly no physical intensity.

So, back to those two days off last week, Monday and Tuesday: It screwed up my program a little bit, but here is a vid of my squats on Wednesday. These were a do-over from Monday, when I couldn’t make it through the first set of five and my 85% felt like death:

(Thanks to C who is “helping me brace” by cracking me up)

These squats felt like butter. They were not effortless, as you can see from my elbow positioning- it did still feel challenging to keep my chest up and fire my abs. Part of that is because I’ve lost some mass in my abdominal area and now I’m having to re-learn how to brace against my belt (the physics has changed) which throws me off a bit.

But what I’m attempting to demonstrate is that taking time off really DOES work, and it’s so necessary for my body to be reminded that I love it and appreciate all the hard work it does to keep me well-regulated. If I treat my body well it treats me well back. I didn’t used to have this relationship with my body, but I’m so grateful for that now: When I listen, and respond, in time my body can heal. Yes it’s taken me YEARS to have this relationship with my body- I used to feel so chaotic and disconnected from my body- and I am so grateful for the ways our relationship has grown more loving and connected over time.

I was able to finish most of the 6 days of programming this week in 4 days, by adding my accessory exercises throughout the week and limiting my main lifts (my coach said to eliminate one pressing day). I even took Sunday completely off this week (see above). I’m super glad I took these breaks and highly recommend prioritizing recovery for bleeding, old, preoccupied athletes with full-time jobs like myself!

Some Frustrations about Weight Classes

(Content warning: FUCKING DIETS and cursing)

I am a late bloomer to athletics. Well, okay, actually I was on the swim team and a sprinter when I was young, but once the boobs started to happen, I basically refused to get into a swimsuit. Body dysphoria is REAL, folks, talk to your kids.

So it took me another twenty years or so to start exercising again. I began with running, which got me high (WIN), but started to wear on my body. I found an awesome bootcamp in Berkeley (Phoenix Fitness, Kelly Mills is my hero, I don’t know if she knows that though, I’m coming out with my love for you right now!) and actually made a few friends that I still see to this day.

Though the bootcamp was awesome, it left me wanting more in the realm of brute strength. I wanted to get strong and lift heavy. I discovered I wasn’t super into the long endurance cardio- which makes sense, since physically I’ve always been more of a sprinter than a marathoner (while mentally and emotionally, I know how to endure). So I found a CrossFit box that had opened up nearby just a few months earlier, and reveled in the phallic majesty of the barbell.

(Yeah, I know, CrossFit is cardio too, but I can handle 10 minutes of pull ups and cleans much better than a 45-minute bootcamp.)

I have done several CrossFit competitions, but none of them have involved weight classes. I’ve also participated in four annual Strengthlifting contests where my weight was used for calculating my Wilks score but not for determining how much I was allowed to lift. And being only quasi-competitive, I was just thrilled to participate and see if I could beat my own records each year.

This Strongman contest in September, however, does involve weight classes. And it’s not the kind of weight classes where you are simply compared to others of your weight class, sort of like they do with Master’s age folks. (I’m compared with others in the 40+ range, rather than with 20 year old whippersnappers).

No, no, that would be too simple and stress-free!

Instead, the weight we are required to carry/lift for our events is dependent on how much each athlete weighs. So all the physical prep I’m doing right now is to get me in a position to be strong enough to lift in the Lightweight class, which is not where I generally sit in my healthy happy emotionally stable place. Essentially, I have to cut weight to get into the weight class I have an iota of hope of becoming strong enough for.

Cutting weight while getting strong is generally not indicated. It’s kind of a bummer, actually.

It’s humbling to consider, every day, that all my training is based on the hope that I can cut weight to make this weight class. Which goes against two very important truths: If you want to get stronger, it’s best to eat more, and DIETS ARE FUCKED UP AND THEY ARE MEANT TO MAKE YOU FEEL SHITTY ABOUT YOURSELF. Also who the fuck wants to feel hungry when you’re trying to get strong and powerful? DOES NOT COMPUTE

But, this is where I find myself today. I have a lot of feelings about this, and SO MUCH MORE TO SAY about the intersections of self-worth, body size, taking up space, cultural expectations, restriction, personal choice, body modification, and disordered eating. So stay tuned…

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A typical meal while cutting. Pretty damn tasty, actually.