Old Dog Learns New Tricks!

I admit it.  My only form of exercise is playing computer card games. I get some good wrist action going some days.  And I walk.  I can walk for hours in a city like San Francisco and I like to walk in the neighborhood.  But run?  Not me.  Not even half a block.  I have no lung power.  I have no stamina.

I tried a gym a few years ago and even hired a personal trainer.  She was very good and had me working hard.  Trouble is, I never got any better.   If I had to run around the building, it was just as hard today as the last time.  And the workouts were boring.   Day after day, same thing.  Same machines.  Same routine.  The worst part was my lack of enthusiasm.   I hated going there and I never really pushed myself.  Tired today?  Oh well.  Let’s walk on the treadmill and be done with it.  If my trainer was counting down reps, and I was struggling, it went like this.  “Ten, nine, eight, two, one.” 

Last summer my husband, AKA the man, joined an exercise program.  He came home drenched with sweat and dead tired.  He watched videos on line.  He went faithfully every week day and some weekends. I called it his new religion.  *I* totally ignored what he was doing.   Then one day I went to watch a Saturday open house demonstration.  Interesting.  The man is NOT a large guy, but he lost TWO belt notches over the course of several months. 

I knew I needed to get my body into shape.  I wasn’t getting any younger! Ok, I am OLD.  The half century mark is long passed.  It wasn’t going to get any easier. I had twenty “mom years” of extra weight on me. Without telling the man, I e-mailed the gym owner to ask if he accepted “wimps”.   He replied that I would get two free workouts.  I went.

I call it low key-high intensity.  The first day Justin showed me many of the basic movements required.  My body began screaming at me.  “WHAT THE #*&% ARE YOU DOING TO ME?”  I barely made it through the session. My body rebelled.  The next day I made it through the routine before being sick.  Yup.  Our bodies will let us know when we have overworked them. Was I nuts the WANT to do this?  Apparently so, because I returned.  So what is this program that has lured us in?  CrossFit.

CrossFit is a strength and conditioning brand. Its purpose is functional fitness. Clients run, jump rope, do pushups, and carry or pull odd objects. They frequently move large loads quickly over long distances. We are taught powerlifting and Olympic weightlifting techniques. CrossFit athletes also use dumbbells, gymnastics rings, pull-up bars, kettle bells, and many bodyweight exercises. It is hard work.

I returned the next week and began two months of one on one training with three different CrossFit trainers. I sweated, I groaned, I cursed.  But I did it.  Everything was scaled down for this newbie.  Lifting weights was just the bar for me.   There are two.  One is15lbs and the other 45lbs.  I used the lighter bar to learn the correct movements. 

One day Justin told me I was going to do the Work Out of the Day (WOD) but I only had to do it THREE times.   I puffed my way through it and Justin called out, “I lied.  You have to do it FOUR times.” Akkkk.  I grunted some more.  He then said, “Lorra, I lied again.  You can do it FIVE times, just like everyone else.”  I finished and collapsed.  But I had completed the WOD.  Secretly I was proud of myself.

Two months after I started, I was put into a regular class.  I chose the time that worked best for me and was warned that this group was mostly 20-somethings.  I knew it would be OK.  I was not competing with someone thirty years younger than me. I am competing with myself.

When my old gym trainer would drop my reps it was effectively lessening the amount I did.  Here, there is no lessening.  From across the gym I hear “Don’t you drop that now!”  “Don’t you quit.” “FIGHT THROUGH.”

On a recent WOD run a fellow client ran with me on my last leg.  I mumbled to myself that at 200m I could turn and walk.  “Oh no, you will not slow down. If you do, then your body will expect it.”  She took my arm and we jogged back.   As I approached the gym, last as usual, stumbling up the driveway, everyone was there calling MY name.  I knew then I had TWO choices.  I could drop dead 20m out (probably from embarrassment) or I could finish.  

It isn’t easy.  My body aches and cries out after every workout.  But every day we warm up.  Every day we stretch.  Every day we try harder.  Every day *I* feel stronger.  This is not a quick fix.  It is a life change.  There are many things I still can not master.  I have a very long way to go.  Basically until the end of my life.

Sure, I have aching muscles.  I have blisters. But I also have …stamina.  After 3 months I already notice small subtle changes.  As part of the WOD we ran 800 metres, three times, and I did it.  Me, who couldn’t run half a block!  I swing kettle bells at 35lbs.  I do 100 sit ups. I no longer have to think about holding my stomach in.  It comes naturally. I see muscles in my arms that were not there before.  Then one morning I noticed…I lost five pounds! 

But I think the main reason I stay here is that no matter what your level of skill, no matter how strong or weak you are, someone is there to root for you.  Someone is in your face to push you through.  I have watched some very strong people push themselves further with the help of someone beside them. 

Every day that I do CrossFit is a learning experience.  And it is not just physical. It is mental training also.  I have my coaches at CrossFit Point Break to thank.  Justin, David, and Calli watch me and guide me as I become stronger.  I have my new friends to thank also.  Without their support I might have given up.

Have you ever driven past the Spring Post Office and wondered about that place down the road where the people are flipping huge truck tires?  Or hanging from the bars doing pull ups?  Or running down the road?  That’s us.  That’s the athletes at CrossFitPoint Break getting better. 

As my T shirt says:

IT NEVER GETS ANY EASIER. YOU JUST GET BETTER.

CrossFit Pointbreak Google it

I want to add today's WOD because I could never have done this 6 months ago.

    1600m rest 3 min   11:10min
    1200m rest 2 min    8:55min
    800m, rest 1 min     6:15min
    400 m.                     3:00min

     total time 35:35
 

I made it to ONE YEAR, lost several pounds, and was improving steadily. Then I was gone for eight months, living on the road for work.  Returning is very hard.  I was sick the first month after every WOD.  My head thought I could do it, but my body had forgotten all it had learned.  I think it was the intense summer heat at noon that added to my misery. Mad dogs, Englishmen, and CrossFitters?  

 I scaled down the WODs and started anew.   I still can’t do the cool down well.  Bending over just exacerbates my nausea.  I need to walk it off. My weights are much less than before, but I am gradually building up again.   Yesterday was 5K Monday.  Huh?

5 km = 3.10685 mi.  OR 3 mi. and 188.0 yd  I completed this in 38:51 minutes.   OK it felt like 2 days, 6 hours, 17 minutes.  LOL   But I did it.  

You’ll pass out before you die.  ;-)

Took me 2 years to do a single toes2bar.  I still can only do a few but... I can do it! :-)

Houston, we have a problem.

Houston, we have a problem.

This Christmas we had a guest from afar.  It was her first trip to the Mainland USA so we wanted to show her our city. Where to go, what to see in the great town and fourth largest U.S. city of Houston?

I suggested the ship Channel, but the tour was full all week long.   The cold and wet weather precluded the Bayou walk or Arboretum, where, even in winter, the Bog trail is fun. No one was really interested in the museums or theatre. My son suggested NASA.  Sure, the huge rockets, the interactive displays, the history. 

My, my, have things changed.   Last time we were there, we wandered around among the rockets that were interspersed on the grounds.  We toured the training facility pool and mission control center.  The day was intelligent and FUN.

Now, the entry fee is almost prohibitive for a family.  We bought online and SAVED $5.00 per person!  On entry to the building there is a bag search and metal detector.  Inside, there is…LEGO land?   No one over age 4 admitted? The exhibits seemed to be cheap amusement-park standards, kiddie playground equipment, or rides that cost extra (on top of the $6 parking). Where is the Space Station “room”?  Where is the History of Flight area? Where is ANYTHING that might make us wonder or think? 

Our last trip to NASA.

We decided to take the tram ride to see

A: Mission Control or

B: the training pool for weightlessness.  

Not both.  Either/or.  We chose Mission Control because the line was shorter.   Sign reads: FOR SECURITY ALL PASSENGERS MUST HAVE PHOTO TAKEN.   WTF?  As a group of four we were told to “stand there and look here”.  I looked THERE and stuck my hand up in the air.   Security my @$$.  Oh and if we just happen to want a souvenir photo of our disgruntled selves waiting in a claustrophobic line for 60 minutes?

THIRTY DOLLARS thank you!

On the monitor above us is Miss Texas form several years ago and the highlights (read ads for tourist traps) of the City of Webster.  Over, and over, and over.

After snaking a few more times and getting poked by oblivious cretins wearing full backpacks that hung over into MY line space and jostled ME, we approached another security check point.  Take EVERYTHING out of your pockets and put on the table.  Give a flunky a uniform and a bit of pseudo-authority and they become neo-Nazis, waving their batons around.   It’s a freaking tram ride, not a nuclear power plant! 

We are handed laminated, numbered cards.  We MUST hold these until we return to the tram after visiting Mission Control.  Huh??   I suppose it is a body count. Can’t have us sneaky visitors wandering off to do steal state secrets at Space Center Control! We are advised to note our row number and to return to this exact spot on the tram afterwards.  We file into the building like sheep and are told to turn off all cell phones before we walk up the three flights of stairs. What?  Is the phone signal going to bring down the space station?  Or do you just fear we will be texting our BF instead of listening to your spiel?  I fear the obese family ahead of my might not make it up the steps but they do. 

OK.  I am awed by Mission Control.  I’ve seen it before and it is rather small, but this is the place where the real activity is!  Nothing is happening in space today, so the room is relatively empty.  (HEY… what is that KID doing down in there?)  I bet when the shuttle is up this place is hopping! 

Back on the tram to the next stop and the Saturn V rocket. The 30-story tall rocket is now housed to protect it from the elements.  It is incredible to see the power stages and the tiny capsule for the crew.  One man seems to really know his stuff s we follow him around and listen to what he tells his family.  On the wall are all the missions.  All the astronauts are in their space suits except for Apollo 13.   Hmmm.  Did they wear business suits into space?  Now I know the story of the aborted lunar landing, but I still don’t understand why their photo is different. 

 

We caught the tram back to the main building and looked at the space suit display, pointing out to our guest how short these men were.

We did have a good day.  Our guest happily took many photos and we all had fun together.  But…   I left with a bad taste and the gnawing feeling that this national treasure really was a national embarrassment.  

Down a Different Path

I took a different path today.  I drove a road I would have preferred to detour around.  My heart is heavy. As a mother, there but for the grace of God go I. 

Today we said goodbye to a United States Marine.  I pulled into the already full parking lot at the funeral home, looking for a spot.  What I saw brought the first of many tears to my eyes.   Simultaneously I saw uniformed service men and women.  And kids.   This Marine was 23.  Younger than my own sons.  

His mother, as I am, is a member of the Houston Marine Moms.   We are a support group that extends in many directions.   Packages to the troops, fund raisers, all questions answered about any subject, and sometimes fun lunches with a shot of Tequila to toast our Marines. I joined them before my son left for boot camp and with their guidance, was able to know exactly what was going on for my son.

 

This mom and I have carpooled together and stopped to chat in the aisles of the grocery store.  She is someone who laughs easily and loudly.  You cannot help but want to be with her.  As hard as it was for me to BE THERE, I HAD to go to show my support. I could not imagine how hard it was for another mother.   

I approached the body, said a prayer, and added my son’s photo to the row of photos and boots lined along the floor near the casket. The boots are arranged at a 45-degree angle, just as they would be if they were worn at attention, a symbolic act of protection and respect.  Holding small flags and the pictures of their owners, they are this Marine’s fellow warriors, there to support and honor him.

The first five rows on the side were reserved for us HMMs. Even there, we supported each other in small ways that meant so very much.  At one point we all stood, holding our bandannas, and recited the 91st Psalm. 

Since 2005 the Houston Marine Moms have adopted the 91st Psalm Bandannas as one of their major programs. We've sent over 5,000 of the Psalm 91 bandannas to Iraq. We work with churches to adopt a Marine or soldier. They pray over the bandannas and we send them to Iraq. We work with Chaplains of whole battalions to pass these out.1

This Marine, a Lance Corporal, served two tours of duty in Iraq. He was awarded several distinguished medals. But he did not die in combat.  He was struck down by a drunk driver in town, not far from his home. 

I cry as I type this.   My own son will soon be home for a visit.  I will hug him and laugh with him.  

There but for the grace of God, go I. 

 

I will say of the Lord, He is my refuge and my fortress: my God; in him will I trust. Surely he shall deliver thee from the snare of the fowler, and from the noisome pestilence. He shall cover thee with his feathers, and under his wings shalt thou trust: his truth shall be thy shield and buckler.

1. http://www.houstonmarinemoms.org/bandana.asp

Los Angeles. Sept 2010

Los Angeles.  Sept 2010

My trips there always seem too brief.  Once again my friend’s home was open to me. We had two nights of shows and fun and having our diet Cokes never run dry.  We met an online friend for lunch and had a lovely afternoon.  I wandered the shops in San Pedro in my never-ending search for dark coffee to bring home as my souvenir.

Scarlet Grey at St Rocke

The Grove-Anaheim SKA night

 

This time I got to see a bit of Hollywood, where the kid was living.    VERY interesting exhibition of street fighting with Dog Brothers Gathering Of The Pack 2010.   Watching your child in a school play does NOT prepare for watching him fight with knives and sticks.   When it was his turn, I was so focused on getting some photos of him that I didn’t have time to worry.  Afterwards, we went to have lunch and a few beers at a local pub.  Met one man I had been watching fight.  He was very good.  Like the kid, a computer geek!  I think the best part was seeing these guys in their street clothes:  Skinny, blobby, dorky, nerdy with glasses.  Just the types that others want to pick on.  Knowing that they could/would hold their own in a fight made me smile. 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nTKqYkvmdkU

Then a bit of driving around.   Interesting houses.  Interesting people living inside them.   Yup.   Drive bys are fun.   ;-)  Maybe next time I’ll stop and take some pix. 

The kid is back in town now, and with no shows planned in L.A. in the near future I don’t know when I’ll return.   But I can dream….

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dN3GbF9Bx6E

RIP Continental Airlines

A moment of silence for a friend’s passing. I became acquainted with you in 1982 when I moved to Texas.  I have known you intimately for nearly 12 years.  Your proud name will be consumed by one that brings bad manners and a checkered past.  It is with great sadness that I see you go.

May your tail someday rise again.

My "secret place" in SFO

This is my review for our company magazine:

San Francisco, California, USA
The Mosser Hotel
54 4th Street
San Francisco, CA 94103
800-227-3804

Date of stay: Several times since 2005


 “I almost hate to give away my ‘secret place.’ TheMosser is an independent family-owned property in the heart of SFO.
Located on 4th Street at Market, directly across from the Marriott, but
at about one third the cost. It’s a very short walk to the BART and cable
car turn-around. But best of all, it provides a safe and welcome respite
after a long day of hiking those hills. As a single, female traveler, I
always feel safe there. The doorman and reception staff are friendly and
helpful. The rooms are quiet and clean. The hotel is eco-friendly and
nonsmoking, and very "family friendly". You can get en suite or down-the-hall bath, and robes are in your room. The morning coffee is divine. Next time you are in the City by the Bay, give the Mosser a try.
But don’t tell anyone.)”




Other information: The hotel has 112 deluxe rooms and 54 rooms with
a shared hall bath. Originally opened in 1913 as the Keystone Hotel,
this historic property underwent a major renovation in 2003.

How cool is this?

A FULL PAGE of my Ramblings in the neighborhood newsletter! This, along with my SFO hotel story, make me a "published writer". Not paid, just published.