Every path into and through motherhood is unique. This is my specific journey. However you are making it happen, you are doing a great job Mama. Motherhood is not for the faint of heart
_____
"But I think
I'd rather be working…"
This is perhaps the
most vulnerable statement I've ever shared publicly, and it has taken a lot of time,
reflection, and therapy to unravel the emotional knot in my stomach as those
words first popped into my head while watching my at-the-time seven-month old.
For those who don't
know our story or haven't been close to it in a while, Marc and I
brought our first son into the world on March 1, 2020. Almost exactly one year later we learned we
were pregnant with twin boys who completed our family on October 31, 2021.
Three under two. It was a lot. It is still a lot, and
learning to integrate my new role as mom with my already established roles of wife and career professional has been the most vulnerable journey I've ever been on.
I think as a woman I expected becoming a mom to follow a certain narrative. I expected to love being pregnant. I expected to feel an instant
connection the second I looked into my newborn babies' eyes. I expected
to struggle as my maternity leave wrapped up feeling a constant desire to be attentive to their needs 24/7. I guess I expected to instinctively know how to do motherhood in the way I had always pictured it. But, man, this just wasn't my experience. I struggled with the physical and emotional changes of pregnancy & postpartum. I watched my amazing
husband step so effortlessly into his new role as dad while I questioned my ability to do so. I felt drawn back to the things I knew I could be successful
in - namely my career. For most of Owen's first year of life, I pushed all of
these feelings aside. I ignored the fact that maybe motherhood was something I was going to have to learn. Then those two heartbeats showed up on the
ultrasound machine, and after the utter shock wore off, the feeling that remained
was one of incompetence. I felt incompetent and undeserving of the three
amazing littles that chose me to be their mom. Woof.
It was time for some deep work. I found a
therapist to help me sort through my unmet expectations and the associated
feelings of guilt. I used timers to bound times of intentional "play"
which so often felt monotonous and unproductive compared to my non-mom world. I
set harder boundaries around the start of my work day and focused on being
present during morning routines. And guess what, I started to become
more confident in my new role as Mom, and I started to view productivity
through a different lens. But it wasn't until I truly sat face-to-face with the fact that my way of motherhood was going to involve using a village to care for my littles. That it was going to be lots of leftovers, pre-made birthday cakes and last-minute Halloween costumes. That it was going to be showing up to evening activities in business casual, fresh off of a day of work. It wasn't until I let myself grieve the kind of mom I thought I was supposed to be did I begin to see the beauty of the kind of mom I am.
I wake up at 4:15 nearly every
morning to workout --- I do this
because it makes ME feel good. Because I like
to feel strong ~ I hope they learn to establish healthy patterns of discipline and to care for themselves through movement
I work hard at my professional craft
and have big career goals --
because leading others and delivering with excellence makes ME
feel fulfilled ~ I hope they learn that success is self-defined and more importantly that it is earned
Marc & I create space in the
chaos to spend time together -- because WE value this time
and have vowed to prioritize OUR relationship ~ I hope they learn that any love worth having is worth significant investment
I make colorful pancakes and dance
to Disney music on Saturday mornings -- Well, that one is for them, but I love it just the same
The first two years
of motherhood have been two of the most transformative years of my life. These
three tiny humans have changed me in the most unexpected ways. They have made me more patient, more present
and dare I say more playful. I would literally give my life for one of them and would carry all of their pain if the universe would let me.
But the greatest gift of the last two years has been the realization that my ability to love them uniquely and wholly is BECAUSE of
the other aspects of my life that fulfill me, not in spite of them.
My kids aren't
always my "why", and that is okay ..
I hope you explore
this world with a broad sense of wonder, an open mind, and a kind heart
I hope you find your
passions and feel the satisfaction that comes from pouring every ounce of
yourself into them
I hope you
experience failure and disappointment such that the success is so much sweeter
I hope that
"I'll try again" always replaces "I can't"
I hope you always find the
courage stand up for what you believe in and live true to
your own heart
I hope you know that
I'll do my best to provide you with opportunity, lead you by example and teach
you with kindness. Above all else, I hope you know that my love for you is
unchanging.
You are strong. You
are resilient. You are brave.
Love Always -
Mom
Becoming a mother.
There is a clear before and after. A life that brought me to the moment that my
son entered this world and a new life that carries on beyond it.
How I told Marc to which he nonchalantly commented "Hey look, balloons"...
I never imagined
having my first child in my thirties, and then I found myself newly single at
29 with the life I had planned no longer a reality. In walks the handsome
redhead.. But that story has been told here so I'll skip a few steps. After
receiving some not-so-optimistic news regarding my potential fertility, Marc
and I knew we wanted to start trying soon after our wedding so in the early
parts of 2019, I did everything to prepare: forewent caffeine and alcohol,
tracked cycles, reduced workout intensity. Thus, when those two pinks appeared,
my honest first reaction was relief followed quickly by an overwhelming sense
of gratitude. The excitement didn't set in until I heard Marc pull up in the
driveway right before I got to share the news.
I'll go ahead and
say it plainly; the first half of my pregnancy was absolutely awful. Nausea set
in around week 5 and lingered until week 17. I went from eating an almost
exclusively whole food diet to surviving on pancakes, pb&j, and cheesy
noodles because that's all I could physically stomach.I was so exhausted most days, I'd come home
from work and take a nap at 5 pm, and it was a good week if I got in 3 days of
any kind of exercise. I'd imagined myself having a super healthy and fit
pregnancy, and I constantly felt like that was slipping from me. That I wasn't
doing enough. It was a period of learning to let go of control and have grace
for whatever my best happened to be that day.
As the nausea
subsided, I was able to go back to normal eating and exercising (I've detailed my physical journey in this post for those who are interested), and the second half
of pregnancy flew by. Somewhat unintentionally, I traveled 10 out of the last
19 weeks. 4 weeks in Australia / New Zealand, 1 week in Spain, and 5 weeks of
work travel to Chicago. On my last Chicago trip, at just over 35 weeks, it was
15 degrees and snowing, my coat didn't button over my belly, I was carrying my
suitcase up a flight of stairs to get to the metro with my hips feeling as if
they were going to explode; and I remember thinking, "What the HECK are
you doing?". We settled in after that.
Roy's Peak hike in New Zealand at 25 weeks
My water broke in
the middle of the night on March 1, and our little man made his appearance 18
hours later coming so fast in the end that the doctor barely had time to put
gloves on.He was here, and this, my
friends, is where expectations versus reality truly diverge. I expected to feel
this rush of emotion when they put him on my chest for the first time, the
overwhelming love that everyone talks about. I didn't. Those feelings didn't
start to emerge until later and are still changing and growing ten weeks later.
I expected to be able to implement the strategies I had read in books (ha!) or
at a minimum have a natural gut feeling as to what would work for my baby.
Instead, I felt like the only mother in world who couldn't tell one cry from
another or read her baby's cues. I expected to enjoy the down time and bonding
moments of maternity leave, but I struggled. I struggled with the lack of
balance. I struggled with not feeling productive. I second guessed every
decision with the weight of his future and well-being baring down on me. I think
it's funny that we are required to prove competence before assuming almost any
other role in our lives, but in perhaps the most critical role as a parent, you
walk out of the hospital, and they are like "Yep. See ya later. Keep him
alive.." The first six weeks of his life were the most unqualified I've
ever felt in mine.
Again. A lesson in
grace.
I wish someone would
have told me that it is a process. It takes time. Like months of time. Looking back it feels like only a blip on the radar, but when you are in it, it feels all-consuming and everlasting. I can
say that life as a mom is more of how imagined now, perhaps even better than I
imagined. There are moments where love and gratitude come over me so strongly
that they literally feel as if they are too big for my heart. I'm learning his
behaviors, patterns and cues and becoming more in tune with my instincts as a
parent as well. I can appreciate the slow moments in the day knowing that time
will one day go faster than I want, and on top of
it all, my love and respect for my husband has deepened immensely as we've
partnered through the beginning of what may be our greatest chapter yet.
At 9:46 PM on March
1, 2020, Owen Albert Leachman made me a mom and changed my heart forever.
Happy (Belated)
Mother's Day to all of the moms out there. I'm honored to share the title.
While I share the more emotional side of becoming a mom in my post Becoming A Mother, I enjoyed reading
other women's physical journeys while I was pregnant so I thought I would share my
experience of growing a human in the world of fitness and nutrition. I feel like I should caveat that my only goal here is to share my experience. Every pregnancy is different; thus, every journey will be unique.
37 Weeks Pregnant*
Peak Fitness in 2017
Baseline : Prior to
getting pregnant, I had been out of competitive Crossfit for over two years. I
was working out 4-5 days per week with the 5 am class at Backcountry Crossfit
with the sole goal of pushing myself for an hour each day and staying fit for
longevity. Diet consisted mostly of whole foods with little restriction within
that category, and Saturday nights are always dessert nights in the Leachman
household (at least for me. Marc would prefer a bowl of blueberries over
chocolate). My weight had been consistent around 130 for the better part of the
previous 5 years; albeit, body comp shifting with training volume over that
time. I believe I was right around 17% BF when I found out I was pregnant
eating 1800 - 2000 calories per day.
Fitness During
Pregnancy : With almost a decade of Crossfit behind me, I have to say that I'm
amazed at how many stages of life this sport has seen me through. Going into
pregnancy, I knew two things: 1. I wanted to stay active as long as it was safe
for the both of us and 2. I wanted to prioritize a long life in the sport over my ego during pregnancy. As soon as movements no longer
felt good, I dropped them.
First things first,
I bought a Fitbit very early on and started wearing it during workouts to
monitor heart rate; throughout my entire pregnancy, I never let myself get
above 150-160 bpm which is slightly above a conversation pace for me. Second
came mindset. In Crossfit, especially competitive Crossfit, the question is
always, "What is the fastest pace I can hold without imploding?"
There is no concern for how much it will hurt or what the physical aftermath
will be. My new question became not "can I do this" but "should I do this". I'd
say I was successful at this 98% of the time and had a great coach and friend
to remind me to slow down when my competitive urge took over. Thanks Josh :)
Aside from the first
trimester, I stayed consistent with 4-5 workouts a week until the day I went
into labor. During the first trimester, Crossfit honestly felt too intense. The
elevated heart rate and heat triggered my nausea, and it just didn't feel good.
Most of my workouts during the time were body building style at our local rec
center. It was mentally challenging to back off, but it was the
best I had in me. And even after almost 6 weeks of very limited exercise, I
don't feel as if it affected my ability to have an overall healthy and fit
pregnancy. If this is you right now, do what you can and hang in there.
Movements I dropped
and approximately when:
Bar MU - immediately
Ring MU - 12 weeks
Rope Climbs - 15
weeks
Box Jumps - 15
weeks
Running - 15 weeks
Toes-to-bar - 17
weeks
Pullups - 17 weeks
Snatches - 17 weeks
Traditional
Deadlifts - 20 weeks
Full-range burpees -
32 weeks
Loaded Squats - 34
weeks
Movements I did
until the very end:
Kettlebell Swings
Sumo Deadlifts
Handstand Pushups /
Handstand Walks
Wallballs / Air
Squats
Box Step Ups
Rowing / Assault
Bike
Sled Pushes
Double Unders
Power and Hang
Cleans (Never above 70% of max)
Push Press / Jerk
(Never above 70% of max)
Postpartum Fitness
: I started walking pretty much the day I got home from the hospital (thank you
Colorado for an amazing Spring) beginning with a walk down the street and
working up to 3-4 miles over the course of the next two weeks. At one week PP,
I added in pelvic floor and core therapy exercises. At about 4 weeks, I added
in low-intensity body building type movements. I was terrified to squat so I
stuck mostly to upper body. Once I was cleared at 6 weeks, I started Crossfit
style workouts again. One blessing in disguise of quarantine life, is that I
was able to come back slowly and gradually ramp up intensity. At ten weeks PP,
the heaviest loads I've moved is 115# snatch, 135# clean or squat, and 185#
deadlift.All about 75% of what I would
say a reasonable max might be (I don't use lifetime maxes anymore. Those went
bye-bye after 2017 regionals). I have not, with the exception of 4 backyard
muscle ups, done any dynamic gymnastics movements. This is partially
due to quarantine equipment availability but also because I still have slight
ab separation that I'm working hard to heal. I'm working out 5 days a week in
the garage with the attitude of giving it what I have that day. I will say that
I missed going hard and love being back to that fall-to-the-ground
feeling after a workout.
Nutrition : Having
weighed and measured food since 2014, it was a method of nutrition that I was
comfortable with, and I decided to continue to track throughout pregnancy.
Nausea kicked my butt in the first trimester. I was lucky to get
in 1200-1400 calories and 95% of them came from refined carbohydrate.This boy's life started from pancakes,
saltine crackers, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, and cheesy noodles. There
were no green things consumed for a solid 6 weeks. I remember the day (yes it
was that instant) that the nausea subsided. It was right around 17 weeks, and I
went to Chic-fil-a and ordered two Marketplace salads and a grilled chicken
wrap. Glorious.
Once nausea was gone, I maintained the rest of pregnancy very similar to pre-pregnancy. 1800-2000 calories of primarily whole foods with
a little more rice, whole grains, and flexibility. If I was craving something
specific I ate it but tried to stick to keeping treats and desserts to Saturday
night. Overall, I gained 21 pounds during pregnancy, but more importantly, I
gave birth to a healthy 8 lb 6 oz baby boy.
Post-partum was more
of the same. I was back to 130 lb about 2 weeks PP and stuck to the
1800-2000 calories through the first six weeks when activity was relatively
low. Once I started Crossfit workouts,my milk supply dropped almost instantaneously so I'm now eating 2200 -
2500 calories to maintain weight and keep little man fed.
One (of many) things
I am grateful to have learned through my journey with Crossfit is that health
and fitness is a lifestyle, and a lifestyle is something you can see yourself
continuing for a long time.Thus, my only goals through all of this has been to stay disciplined in a the lifestyle I want to live and the lifestyle I want to teach my son. The constant
mantra is "Focus on what you can control". I
can control what I put in my body, how I exercise, and my mindset. Everything
else is a result of those efforts that will happen in due time.
*All maternity pictures taken by the lovely Jade Hull
Me again. Back after another year. I’d like to think that I’d one day get into a cadence of writing more than once a year but let’s be honest. Life is busy. Birthdays feel like an appropriate time to reflect and we’re now a little bit beyond a month past my 32nd trip around the sun. My last post left us when Marc, my now husband, got down on one knee in one of the most picturesque sceneries out there. Second best day of my life thus far.
Let's take a minute to remember this amazing moment
Now I say second best only because the day I got to say “I do” to that amazing man was definitely THE BEST day in my entire 32 years. . We got married on May 4th, 2019 in my parent’s backyard in Kiln, MS. A reflection of true love that my winter-loving husband was all for wearing a suit in an outdoor wedding, in May, in South Mississippi purely because he understands how important this place is to me. For more on that, I flash back to my 2014 post titled Mississippi. A special place indeed.
Radar the morning of our wedding. We are the black dot.
In hindsight, our actual wedding day was far from perfect. The hair and makeup artist I booked 6 months prior cancelled less than two weeks before the wedding. We woke up on the big day to tropical storm winds and rain with a forecast that wasn’t promising. The decorations previously set completely blew off the tables. The white chairs arrived looking like they’d been tied behind a truck and drug for a few miles on hot black asphalt. The lights strung throughout the yard went out more than a few times as the darkness of the country night set in.
But like we’ve learned, perfection is about perspective and imperfection is often where the truly important shines through. People talk about tribes and, man, were we reminded how lucky we are to have ours. I still get tears in my eyes and an indescribably overwhelming sense of gratitude for the love and true friendship I have in my life. Our best friends and family spent their day taking down and putting decorations, scrubbing chairs with a toothbrush (not kidding), setting up chairs inside the tent then outside the tent then inside then outside, driving through torrential rain to pick up cakes and umbrellas and utility rugs to stop the flooding, fixing electrical issues with the lights (yay for smart friends). The memories made laughing our way through that imperfect day are just as fond as the ones we made when the skies miraculously cleared, the temperature held in the 70s, and the celebration went off like nothing was ever an issue.
Our best day was one where we got celebrate our love and partnership with those closest to us, and by those standards, it was absolutely perfect.
Exactly two months later I got to tell my new husband that he was going to be a dad. Baby Leachman is due in March of next year. Pregnancy has been nothing like I thought it would be. All four wheels on this previously well-oiled machine fell off at about 5 weeks, and it has, without any doubt, been a lesson in patience and grace. But that is a story for another time. With 23 weeks down, the best way I can describe how I’m feeling is honored. I’m extremely honored to be able to bring our son into this world in a few short months.
So in the last 13 months we’ve gotten engaged, bought a house, renovated a house, finished a second Masters degree (him not me), gotten married, and grown half a human (me not him). Before we enter life’s next biggest chapter of parenthood, we’re closing this one out with some backpacks and barbells. We just set off on a month-long tour of Australia and New Zealand.
The Kiwi and Aussie Itinerary
Cairns, Australia
Port Douglas, Australia
Sydney, Australia
Queenstown, New Zealand
Te Anau, New Zealand
Auckland, New Zealand
When I last posted
on Backpacks and Barbells nearly three years ago, I was coming off a
backpacking trip around Europe that inspired the original creation of this
blog. I was on a high of independence and perspective that only an experience
like that can provide. I was fulfilled. I was also completely unprepared for how much would change and how fast the next years
would pass. I was always told that life goes faster as you get older, but
yesterday was my 31st birthday. I mean what?!
I recently took the
longest trip since the Europe extravaganza and decided while climbing 9 miles out of
the Grand Canyon that it was worthy of a Backpacks and Barbells revival.The 2018 road trip took us through Arches National
Park, Canyonlands National Park, Grand Canyon National Park, Antelope Canyon, Zion National Park and Bryce
Canyon National Park. I admittedly saw more National Parks on this trip than I
have in my previous thirty years, and there is a peacefulness and vastness that
only leaves me craving more.
We tent camped for all but two nights of the 11-day trip and quickly realized why we were generally one of the only tents in the campgrounds. The desert is sandy! Sand, wind, and a tent basically mean dirty; and with no showers at 2/3 campgrounds, we pretty much stayed that way. Thank the lord for dry shampoo and baby wipes. In entirety, we hiked 74 miles and close to 15,000 ft of elevation with our longest day being the Rim to River to Rim trail in the Grand Canyon. 7.5 miles down the South Kaibab Trail and 9.5 miles up the Bright Angel Trail. We started the day at 5 am and made the final climb out of the canyon at 2 pm, and apart from the last mile and a half, it felt like we had the whole Grand Canyon to ourselves. We walked nearly in silence, me about 50 ft behind him. Both in our own space wrapped in the vastness of this world wonder.
When we arrived in
Zion, Marc decided that we should do Observation Point as opposed to the more
popular Angel's Landing. Observation Point is a less trafficked route and a
harder climb, and with a shared distaste for large crowds ruining nature (only
slightly kidding), I was on board for skipping the famous route.Little did I know he had other reasons for the summit of the quieter ridge. It was on top of Observation Point that this
amazing man asked me to marry him.
Marc and I started dating last summer after a friend dropped out of his planned trip to Canada, and I got to be the last-minute replacement. Turns out a week in Banff was a pretty good way to kick things off :) We share a love for
fitness, an eagerness for travel, a passion for hard work, and an appreciation
for the simple life. We both run at life at full speed with high career and
family goals and like many couples our days are a dance of shared
responsibilities,late nights at the
office, celebrated successes, disagreements, and burpees.What makes me feel most secure, though, is knowing that we are both all in on the communication, commitment, and sacrifice
required to ensure we get where we want to go individually and together. A life where one plus one is greater than two.
The last decade has
been wild ride.I've traveled to 19 countries and lived at 14 different addresses in 4 different states. I earned adegree in Industrial
Engineering and have worked for three amazing companies in Walt Disney World,
JB Hunt, and Credera. I found
sport in Crossfit and had the opportunity to work my way from the very bottom to
the pinnacle of competition, competing at 5 Regional championships and being a
part of the 2016 28th fittest team with Backcountry Black. But much like the
Grand Canyon was carved by billions of years of pressure and erosion, the
success is only half the story. There were times where I felt lonely,
lost, and unsure of myself. I've battled the old demons of an eating disorder that gripped my younger self. Years passed where
I drank too much and partied too hard. I made a lot of bad decisions, took risks that didn't pay off, and did a few of the right things with wrong and selfish motives. I've been on both sides of lost love and bear the accompanying scars
of guilt and heartache. This life is up and down, back and forth, a strong mix of good and bad. Learning to roll with punches, have grace for my mistakes, and do my best to approach each day with honesty, humility, kindness, and strength has been the marker of this chapter.
I spent my first twenty years chasing the Perfect 10 only to realize in the next ten
that imperfection is the true fruit of this world. Life is raw, emotional, painful,joyous, messy, and beautifully beautifully imperfect. New
beginnings indeed.
Until next time -
AMD
*Proposal photo cred to the random couple that had as much idea about what was to come as I did. Once they realized what was happening, they went above and beyond to capture the moment. People are awesome.
Holy Adventure! Holy Change! Holy Living! When I look back over the past ten months now, those are first three things that come to mind. It's been a ride.
As I logged on to write this post, I realized that the last time I wrote was in September. September! It's been nearly five months, and it seriously feels like yesterday. Although, when I think about all of the places I've been since then, all of life changes, all of the new in just five months...wow. 2014 was definitely a year well lived. As told by my lull in writing, at some point along the way, living became more important than reflecting. At least for the immediate moment. There's not enough space on this page to share all of those moments now; however, I am proud to say that I kept a daily journal for the entire trip. Everything I saw. Every person I met. Every time I got lost. Every emotion. It's all in there, and my hope is to continue to share those posts as I have time to reflect and write. For now though, Life as it is today. Post-Europe Amanda.
I knew this experience would change me in many ways, open my eyes, open my mind to ideas outside of myself. I was hoping for that. I was hoping to learn, to experience, to let go a little, and I was not disappointed. There was a lot of fear in the early stages of making this happen. Quitting an amazing job without any other plans of income, leaving friends and a gym that had become family, knowing that once I got over there my closest contact would still be oceans away, being alone. Just me. When's the last time you were 'just you'? And I'm not talking about being alone for a little while or even living alone. I had lived alone for two years prior to the trip, and I'm not ever sure I was 'just me'. I was always busy and distracted with what was going on around me: friends, work, Crossfit, reality tv. Whatever. I would say that learning to be just me is one the greatest take aways from the journey. I learned a lot about myself. For example, I like to wander; just walk around a watch life unfold around me. I could seriously do that for hours. Vanilla gelato is my favorite. I feel more put together when my toenails are painted. I'm addicted to peanut butter which is nonexistent in most of Europe. History is where it's at; I'm not really a huge fan of art. My sense of cardinal direction is awful, but my ability to retrace any track I've walked before is spot on. I like talking to strangers. White wine; not red. I have a intuitive sense of alertness when something feels off and an inner strength that is there when it needs to be. I remember standing in front of Eiffel Tower on the day before I flew back home with this overwhelming feeling of security, and pride, and accomplishment, and I realized that I never want my life to fall into a place of complacency where those feelings no longer exist. Always finding that sweet spot of being in the moment and enjoying life as it happens around you while at the same time preparing yourself for the next mountain.
I made it back to the US a few days before my 27th birthday, and the months after that are seriously a blur. Here's where life has landed.
Denver, Colorado is where 2014 ended and 2015 began for Alex and I. Together :) We made the move in December after I accepted a job offer as a Business Intelligence Consultant for Credera Consulting. Alex and his business partner, Joe, have been successful in getting Altius Medical Solutions off the ground in Arkansas, and Alex is continuing to build that success here in Denver. We've found a new gym home at Backcountry Crossfit where they practice sans-oxygen Crossfit. You think I'm kidding. Functional fitness at 6000 ft elevation is a whole different ball game. A light jog feels like Fran. Muscles just stop working about 2 minutes into any workout. It's a good time. No need to worry though, the Open starts in 23 days, and I'm proud to say that I can make it to our second story apartment without having stop and catch my breath :) On a more serious note, however, I must say that I feel extremely blessed that I have found two gym homes that share a similar community, a similar camaraderie, a similar family.
I took a huge leap of faith 10 months ago, and life has fallen back into place. Things are pretty much back to normal; well a new normal. Days fly by with work and training. I leave my house at 7am with a laptop bag, a gym bag, and 4 meals packed; and I usually don't walk back through the door until after 8 pm. The grind. I'm good at the grind; I've done it all of my life. I'm in my element. Focused. Productive. However, there is mental paradigm shift when you spend 128 days living out of backpack on the other side of the world. I remember that feeling of absolute spontaneity, of having no schedule, and I find balance in the day-to-day of life. The happy medium I spoke of in a previous post. I notice the beauty around me. I stop to look at the mountains and make sure I catch the sunsets. I talk to strangers. I keep a fresh perspective on stress and daily mishaps. So what if you left your coffee on the kitchen counter or there is traffic where Google Maps clearly says there shouldn't be. Remember that time you were lost in a huge Italian city for four hours, in the rain, with every inch of the 37 pounds you had with you absolutely sopping wet. Oh, and you didn't speak Italian! Perspective. It's really not that bad. Stress is a decision. So while life is very much routine again, many pieces of my journey still remain as I hope they always do.
I'm not signing off of Backpacks and Barbells. The world is a great big place, and I've still only seen a small portion of it. Alex and I plan to continue to explore, and I'll be sure to bring everyone along.
For 2014 though, I can definitely say that I lived.
I've spent a lot of blog time talking about the backpack side of my journey and have left a lot of the barbell side unsaid, but there has been a journey there as well. There has been reflection, changes in perspective, good times, and some awesome friends along the way. My Europe box count is somewhere around 15 at this point. Most for just a day or two, but a few for a bit longer. I've experienced a ton of different gym cultures, training styles, coaching styles, and programming focuses. Some gyms are gymnastics based with majority of the wods based around body weight movements. In other words, for me, #win. Some gyms are endurance based with at least a mile of running incorporated into every workout. Lord help me. I've found a few that have a programming structure similar to what I'm accustomed: a variety of strength, skill work, and sprint metcons. With every box I visit, I follow the workout laid out for that day. I know that a lot of time, planning, and effort go into the programming, and I want to respect that. Plus, perhaps the best way to meet and connect with other crossfitters is to suffer through the same workout right next to them. What does this mean for my programming though? It essentially means that I don't have a structured one. Truly unknown and unknowable. The Hopper if you will. I have tried to stay consistent with some kind of strength work, and by strength work I mean try to move something heavy as often as can in the form of a squat or deadlift and try to get in snatching and cleaning at least once a week. Definitely not the volume I'd realize if I was home in the groove of training, but I've learned a lot through this as well.
I'm a competitive crossfitter, and I love being a competitive crossfitter. I love spending hours in the gym. I love that completely exhausted feeling after a hard workout. I love the excitement of new PRs and the anxious thrill of being out on the floor with my teammates. I love it all, and when I'm in that well-oiled routine, my efforts are focused on becoming a better competitive crossfitter. There becomes this mindset that unless it's heavy, weighted, or strict, it's not productive in terms of training. While I'd be lying if I said I haven't had a few moments of panic when I can't hit a max or feel like I'm losing something by not following a program geared toward Open and Regional training, taking a step back has reminded me of why I choose Crossfit not only as my competitive sport but also as the sport I hope to continue for the larger part of my life. Crossfit has taught me to love my body for what it can do. Functional fitness. Last week, I had a little over mile to walk and about 10 minutes until my train departed. I was also laden with 40 pounds of my stuff (that keeps growing btw). I made it. Functional fitness. "No sir, actually I don't need need help lifting my bag". Functional fitness. Walking the seven to eight miles a day that it takes to see a city instead of using public transportation. Functional fitness and a lot of saved money.
One mile backpack run. 3.2.1 Go!
I've come so far in my life in terms of my relationships with food, fitness, and health. Ten years ago, I wouldn't have survived this trip. Three years ago, it would have been extremely tough. Crossfit, not just competitive Crossfit, has saved me in so many ways. This trip has reminded me of that. It's brought me back to the roots of why I love this sport and reminded me to be appreciative of every workout, to keep it varied, and to never underestimate any wod. Respect the movement. For example, I walked into a gym one day and the programmed workout consisted of hollow rocks and arch rocks. That's it. No barbell. No pull ups. No Burpees. I immediately went into what I'll call my "elitest" mindset and thought "well this is going to be a waste of time". I did the workout anyway, and I'll be damned if I wasn't sore for the next two days. I had a similar experience with bear crawls. Keep your head out of the sky Amanda. Fitness is more than throwing heavy weight around. So while there's a good chance I won't be hitting my maxes right away when I get home and back to my normal training routine, I know for sure that won't be coming back any less fit than when I left and I'll have a refreshed outlook on why this sport is so great.
I'm not done yet, but to all of the gyms I've visited thus far, thank you. You've enriched my European journey beyond measurable amounts. You enrich this sport beyond measurable amounts. Without the community, Crossfit is just a bunch of glorified warehouses with chalk-white pull up bars, piles of rubber bumper plates, and dirty floor mats that leave knees and bellies dirty on burpee day, and as a community, we are so much more than just that.
As a side note, my three year Crossfit anniversary is coming up in a few days. It's been such a ride and one that I hope continues for a long long time. Below is my first ever Crossfit goal card. Those damn wall balls :) We all have to start somewhere. It's amazing what can be overcome and accomplished with a little bit of hard work, patience, and a rock solid support system. I love this sport.
