Recently in Outdoor Workouts Category

Last weekend I was Tom Corrigan's assistant for two two-hour introductory kettlebell classes at a fitness equipment store in Lynnwood. We had six people on Saturday and four on Sunday. In both classes was one person who'd been to Cappy's Boxing Gym (where I went for three years pre-CrossFit) and two people who knew quite a bit about CrossFit or had tried it. It was fun to connect with all of these people who are interested enough in fitness to buy their own kettlebells and come to the class. And classes are a confidence builder because I see that I'm able to talk about technique and people respond positively. Tom C. says that to build up to a heavier kettlebell lift--for example my wanting to snatch 24 kilos--I should do this: -Perfect the form by doing the lift for high reps (like 50-plus) at a light weight; -Do heavier presses -Do the high one-arm swing with the slight bend at the top (i.e., the whole snatch except the finishing punch-through) with the heavy weight that I want to snatch. For me that means many snatches at 12 kilos (I can already snatch 16), presses with the 16, and high one-arm swings with the 24. I'll work on those on days I don't go to the gym, starting two days ago and today. Turns out I'm not so close to snatching the 24, because it's hard for me to control it during the high one-arm swings with the elbow bend at the top. By the time I try that, I've already done a bunch of snatches with the 12 and presses with the 16, and besides the fatigue, the 24 is hard for me to grip with one hand. Its handle is thicker and my hands are sweaty by that time. Still I think with good form I can work up to it. After all, when you punch through and finish the snatch, there's no grip issue. The grip problem comes when controlling the change of directions on the top and bottom of the swing. It also turns out my endurance isn't what I wish it were. I've been snatching the 12 kilos for nowhere near 50 reps per side. Today I did sets on right and left with 5-second breaks. The sets were 10, 10, 6, 10 snatches. I'll solve these two problems by doing the high swings with the 16 for a while; and by continuing to add sets of snatches with the 12 instead of psyching myself out by saying I'm going to do 30 without stopping. I'm happy with my pressing strength for now and feel confident I can improve it. My right shoulder, after three Active Release Therapy sessions, is a lot more reliable and solid. I did five sets of two 16-kilo presses per side today. I finished with two sets of 10 suitcase deadlifts, holding a 16 on one side and the 24 on the other side. It was a good workout and fun to do it in the backyard while looking at my flowers.

Last week at the gym one evening, we watched a DVD showing some good runners, with commentary by a running coach, and then video of ourselves running. Dave pointed out that we are all heel-strikers, overreaching, landing solid on the foot and pushing off after losing momentum. It should be more of a short stride, a pedaling motion, picking up the foot the instant it lands--not crashing down, shifting weight and pushing off. The running coach in the first video said good runners run at 180 strikes per minute at any speed. I went back to Seward Park the next night and warmed up, then used my cheapo pedometer and stopwatch to count strikes for a minute. I concentrated on short strides and made 175 strikes that first minute. Then I ran about the same distance I'd run the previous week, approximately three miles, and at the end I counted strikes for a minute again. Only 147--oops! Halfway decent form slips away when tired. It will be interesting to keep working on that. Tonight I took my bike to Seward Park with a notebook and cyclometer to measure exactly 5K. I made detailed notes on where to stop after completing the loop, continuing on and passing the half-mile marker. From now on I'll use that so my times on each run will be direct comparisons. I stopped at Genessee Park next, where a gravel running trail goes around a big wild meadow. I'd heard there are pull-up bars along the trail, and there are, including a set of rings. I measured 200 meters from the pull-up bars in case Tom wants to take a kettlebell down there and do the "Helen" workout. He can run the 200 meters along the trail and back for the 400-meter runs. It was a gorgeous, warm evening. I slowly meandered back up Lake Washington Boulevard, using the walking path to avoid being blown off the road by cars and cyclists in their Lance Armstrong costumes, going "Ding! Ding!" with their bells. "Important cyclist passing! Please make way!" Instead I was passed by a friendly person with long, curly hair, who called out "On your left!" sort of stiffly, I thought, then came up beside me when I moved over, and said, "It's not often I get to pass somebody!" Funny! S/he had an average-looking mountain bike and was tooling along looking almost as aimless as I did. I was going like 7 mph. Eventually I got back up to the Leschi section of the lakeshore, closer to where we live, so I measured 400 meters just in case I want to do some running down there. I doublechecked it, then realized I was at the foot of the steep, winding road up from the lake into our neighborhood. There are easier ways, but I was ready to be home, so I put it in the lowest gear and up I went. It wasn't as bad as I remembered, probably because I wasn't trying to go fast at all. From the bottom to the hilltop at 29th and Yesler, I measured 1,250 meters. This metric measuring is fun!

Tom and I watched our friend Liz finish the Danskin Women’s Triathlon last Sunday. We stood against the fence that defined the corridor that took the runners the final 100 meters. They came around a curve that emerged from the trees and bushes in Genessee Park and charged over the sunny grass to the finish. I was so thrilled for all of them, and so inspired! As I watched the different running styles, different degrees of tiredness, different ages and facial expressions, I envied and admired them all. A daydream—a visualization, you might say—bubbled up in my head: I’ll finish my run with a cartwheel. What? I can’t swim and I hate running. But I can’t get that image out of my head! Today I spent some time researching how to train for a 5k run, which is what the Danskin finishes with. I learned that it is useful to estimate your 5k time and pace, and to use the pace in various ways as a basis for training workouts. Calculate the estimate by running 3 x 1600 with a one-minute rest between each. Take the average of the three times and multiply it by 3.125 for a 5k estimated time. It took me about an hour and several emails to Tom before I understood all of the details behind that—for one thing, you’re using a 400-meter track, which doesn’t go evenly into 5000; and ultimately you’re finding a pace in minutes per mile for a metric race and metric workouts. Wha? Anyway, I thought tonight I’d run the 3 x 1600 and find my estimated 5k time. Our nearest high school track is torn up as the whole place is under construction; our next-nearest high school track, where I went on my scooter tonight, also turned out to be unfinished. I had gotten the nerve up to go work out in an unfamiliar place doing something I’m not accustomed to, which took a whole afternoon of self-persuading, so I didn’t want to go straight home. I went to Seward Park, which has a beautiful paved 2.5-mile loop around the edge of a wooded peninsula on the lake. Lake views all the way around on my right, forest breezes from the left, peaceful lapping water on the shore. The problem: 2.5 miles was even less intuitive for calculating anything useful than was 5k divided into miles. I decided I’d just time myself running all the way around it from where I parked the scooter, and then continue on past for whatever felt like another half mile. At that time I was thinking the loop was 2.6 miles (as I’d read online), so adding a half mile would make it 5k. (Right?) For my own future reference, detailed notes on where I stopped: going counterclockwise from the shore parking area east of the tennis courts, I continued until the trail bent noticeably to the left and there were three conspicuous, straight, narrow, parallel, white trees on the right between the trail and the water. There were lots of trees but three narrow straight white ones stood out. Okay. So to reach that point, my time was 27:40. This is right within the range I calculated based on timed mile runs I’ve recorded in the past year or so. Maybe it was 5k, maybe I didn’t go far enough. The run felt fine and I had no trouble completing it. From time to time I focused on what Dave has described as feeling like shortened steps and a pedaling motion (as opposed to reaching out with the heel to lengthen the steps, or scuffing the front of the foot to shorten the steps). I concentrated most of the time on: breathing into the diaphragm to push my stomach out; relaxing my midsection so it wasn’t too stiff; and keeping my shoulders down and relaxed. I’m really happy with how this went, and the surroundings were beautiful. I treated myself to a barefoot wade in the lake when I finished running. As I walked back, retracing the extra part of my route, I finally noticed that there was a mile marker along the trail. It said 2 on one side and one-half on the other side. D’oh! If I’d known those existed, I could have started in the right place and could have known when I hit three miles. The next question was where is the first marker, the one that marks the start? I wandered around for a while and I think I found it by the main parking area and building where the clay studio is. I’m not 100 percent sure because although it’s the same style and same stone, its lettering doesn’t say “loop starts here” or anything clear like that—instead it says “the mile markers were donated by the Friends of Seward Park,” states that it is a 2.5-mile loop, and shows where you can usually see blue herons and so on. I guess I’ll start there next time, go all the way around, and continue to the half-mile marker so I’ll know I ran three miles. But 5K is 3.125 miles. I won’t be able to know when I’ve run that extra eighth.

There's a beefy, shirtless young man out on Seventh and Pike right now holding a sign saying he'll do push-ups for money: 20 for one dollar. My immediate reactions: (1) What a great idea! (2) I must challenge him! (3) I would be a total idiot to challenge him! Too bad I only had a ten that I didn't want to give away. Of course I had to say something anyway. I said, "I'm tempted to challenge you to a contest since I'm pretty good at push-ups, but I think I'd lose!" He said, "Oh really? How about giving me a dollar and I'll do 20?" (Way to stay on message, huh?) I told him if I got change while I was out walking I'd stop back by. But I had already had lunch, so although I walked around for a while, I didn't buy anything. Also it occurred to me that I would feel weird standing around watching someone do push-ups, and I'd end up doing them too, down on the ground in my flowered skirt making a spectacle. Then I felt like I had to avoid him on the way back. Either the free market is not ready for paid push-ups because of the strange nature of the transaction, or else I wasn't part of the target demographic for that marketing campaign. Anyway, I think he should charge twice as much.

Tom received his pair of gymnastics rings yesterday. We took them up to this well-equipped schoolyard to hang them over the pull-up bars and do ring push-ups, dips, pull-ups, inverted hangs, and whatever else we could think of. The schoolyard has fantastic outdoor training equipment. It’s great that this private school lets the public use their field when school is not in session. Tom “walked” the whole length of these long, uphill-downhill parallel bars! I managed a shorter length on one of the less steep parts, but I had the most fun on the monkey bars. The field even has a running long-jump track and pit! I tried that too, running as fast as I could to the take-off board and leaping as far as I could. It was really fun but it would be even more fun to learn how to extend the leap by working the legs and folding the body in the air. Finally, before we left I wanted to run around their track to see how nice the surface would be. I think it might be made of recycled rubber—it has a nice spring to it without being too soft. I’m not an accomplished runner at all. Dave at the gym has been giving us some running tips that I try to remember to use: lean forward slightly; don’t reach with your leading heel, but try to land on the whole foot and use the ball of the foot to spring up again as soon as the foot lands; keep the upper body loose; breathe with the diaphragm. The school track looked huge to me, much bigger than the 440 yards around our gym hangar feels and much bigger than the track at our local high school looks. I guess I’m used to those. But it is a standard-size track. I was happy to be able to run it in 1:24. I thought my runs were almost always around two minutes, but I never know for sure because they are always part of a longer timed workout.

Saturday was our first day back on the sand volleyball court with Tom’s coworkers since last year. This is our third year of playing. It was a bit much to do that after Suffer on Saturday and I was ready to quit after three games of 25 points. I found that I hadn’t lost anything over the winter—not that I was very good before. I make some good plays and plenty of mistakes. This is equally true for almost everybody we play with, with two glaring exceptions. One is a guy in his 20s who is a natural star athlete, quick and light and gifted with aim and power. You can tell he tries not to hog the ball too much. The other is a guy about my age who is really good at volleyball and is one of those people who both hog the ball and get irritated with the mistakes of his inferiors—let’s call him B. B. drives me crazy. Last year, my second year out there with Tom and his teammates, I grew more and more aware of his critical remarks. “Just one or two more steps and you would have got to it! Move fast!” “If you don’t hit the ball, it will fall to the ground!” This isn’t personal. He does this to everybody. He also acknowledges good plays. But it’s such a downer to see him get impatient and critical! I think he gets tired and cranky and doesn’t know when to quit. I don't know why he doesn’t just find or organize a better team to practice with. There are lots of teams and willing players at their company. A few things are different for me this year. For one, I now know everyone’s skills, quirks, and social habits very well, so playing with them is less of an unknown. And second, this year I’ve been going to CrossFit, where people are exceptionally supportive and positive. I now feel that everyone in sports should be that nice. A team sport like volleyball is different from the mostly individual skills we use at the gym, and our workouts aren’t exactly a sport anyway because they’re not very competitive. But still, I’m playing volleyball for fun just as I’m trying out gymnastics and weights for fun, and so my complaints about B. have suddenly crystallized. In any case, I can't stand it when people hog the ball, running all over the court and getting in front of people. Then the one time they don’t hog the ball, it comes to your position and you don’t get to it, they’re irritated. You can’t expect less-skilled players to hone their moves if you hog the ball, and if they expect you to hog the ball, they’re not ready when you don’t. And the other problem I have, whether it’s B.’s fault or mine I’m not sure, is that I can’t tolerate feeling that my mistakes are being cataloged and I’m seen as someone who needs to have the ball hogged away from her. I also don’t see any point in playing if it’s not fun and if I can’t expect to improve my skills because others won’t stay in position. So after Saturday's experience, I’ve pretty much decided not to play this year. Trying a team sport was a big challenge for me two years ago and took a lot of nerve after my experiences in school. Now I can say I gave it a good try and if I acknowledge that I prefer solo sports and just working out, I can accept that without feeling like I don’t know what I’m missing or I have a chip on my shoulder. Also as Tom reminds me, if I’d like to see my workouts as a sport, I can just imagine challenging B. to a pull-up contest. I’d bet on myself in that competition.

I went to the park and did 4 rounds of a modified recent workout of the day from the CrossFit website: 15 pull-ups 10 alternating one-legged squats 5 handstand pushups On rounds 2 and 3 I only completed 5 pull-ups and several fractions; on round 1 I took lots of breaks to get to 15. Doing handstand pushups, I balanced myself against an equipment support. I couldn’t get very low for the pushups—they were very shallow, but I did five every round. After the four rounds, I did two other things: 10 hanging knees-to-elbows (rings) Two jogs around the soccer track with four sprints the length of one side It’s fun to work out outside on a nice day. It was sunny but cold—perfect for getting all heated up with exercise. The park, Grass Lawn Park in Redmond, is spacious, new, and not heavily used during the workday. The workout equipment is crowded together in a little mulched area surrounded by a vast lawn like an afterthought. (Possible thought process of the park designers: “Some people want to work out independently, are not on a soccer or ball team, and don’t have children with them? Are you kidding me? How bizarre! Well, let’s stick some bars and rings in this remote spot over here just in case somebody that strange comes along!”) Crossing the giant, empty lawn, I was surprised to find a group of moms and toddlers clustered around the equipment, which is nowhere near the playground. I felt really self-conscious. To help myself through it, I avoided looking at anyone, even though there were about ten moms and kids milling about within 15 feet of me. I couldn’t help wondering why they chose to loiter there of all places when the park is probably a quarter of a square mile in area. So I struggled through my pull-ups and did my one-legged squats surrounded by the cooing sounds of moms and toddlers who were almost invisible, so intent was I on not looking at them. When I bent down to start trying the handstand push-ups, and kicked my legs up into a handstand, I felt the weirdest of all, a lone woman doing truly strange exercises among a group of women doing something completely traditional. Nobody made me feel weird except myself, but it seemed surreal. I imagined myself in their shoes wondering why anybody would want to do exercises like that—what’s the point? But for the most part I’m satisfied that whether there seems to be a point to it or not doesn’t matter to me. I just want to get better at the handstands! I like workouts that involve only body weight so that I can do them at the park or at home. We have a pull-up bar attached to our basement rafter, but we’re planning to build a better one in the yard and attach rings to it. Tom loves this stuff even more than I do and I think we’ll both use it.

Yesterday I had my first soccer practice with a few members of a team that plays in a recreational division. I wrote to them through a bulletin board on a website after I searched Google for adult soccer in Seattle. They said they didn't mind a beginner, and invited me to yesterday's practice. We met at a grass soccer field in a park. One other beginner was there, along with three experienced players, one of whom is also a coach. He brought lots of balls, small colored plastic cones, and mesh vests. Our first drill was to stand on four corners (marked with cones) and pass the ball around the square while the fifth person played defense, chasing the ball between us and trying to gain control of it. Next we only covered three corners of the square, so that each offensive player had to move from corner to corner to receive passes. Then the coach set up the cones to form a corridor. One offensive player would try to dribble the ball out of the corridor on the right (which represented moving it toward the center of the field and the goal). A defender would try to force the dribbler to move left and out of bounds or go all the way to the end of the corridor and out of bounds. Next we practiced throw-ins—throwing the ball in from the sideline after the opposing team kicks the ball out of bounds. We learned to run to the line for throwing momentum, drag the rear foot at the final step, and throw the ball two-handed from overhead toward a teammate's feet. The foot-dragging is to comply with the rule that both feet have to be on the ground when the ball is thrown. Then we played two on two, using a miniature field marked by the cones. We were coached to stay "goalside" of an offensive player and, when playing offense, to run to open space in hopes of receiving a pass. The coach explained how teammates call to each other to announce their availability and position, as well as to tell each other where to move. It was hard to think while running after the ball at top speed and constantly changing direction. The hardest part was switching so often between offensive play and defensive. Finally, we all positioned ourselves in front of an actual goal and practiced different ways of kicking the ball into it: stopping and controlling the ball and then kicking, running to the stationary ball and kicking on first touch, and running to meet the rolling ball and kicking it on first touch. I had trouble mastering the knee-over-the-ball kick, in which you dig under the ball with a pointed toe (but without skimming the ground) and follow through with the ankle locked in that position. It was a lot of fun to practice the kick with both the right and left foot, especially when running to meet and kick the rolling ball. I like to try to do things ambidextrously as much as possible. I was surprised that it was very hard to kick the ball into the goal from any respectable distance—let alone if someone was playing goalkeeper. Because the goal is huge, the ball is bouncy, and my legs are strong, I thought that sheer kicking power would come easily. Today my hips and thighs are pleasantly sore, as well as the tops of my ankles, from kicking with the foot locked in pointed-toe position. Aerobically, I was pleased to find that I didn't get tired during our drills even though they involved lots of running. I should be in great shape aerobically from all the jumping rope and other, even harder boxing-class drills. But because each activity makes different demands, I wasn't sure I'd be able to keep up when it came to all-out running in the grass after the ball. I was up to the challenge, though, and sometime it will be interesting to see how I hold up in an actual game. I won't be able to play games for several months because they play on Monday nights, which will conflict with my fall class schedule. It was such a privilege to be introduced to soccer by such a nice, positive, relaxed group. I hope I can practice with them some more and eventually play in their games… I think. I'll probably be quite nervous at going into a game, afraid I'll look stupid, or someone will get mad at me, and so on, all those unpleasant gym-class memories replaying. (Begone!) I'll have to try to focus on the fact that this is a new situation, 100 percent different from gym class. I will have learned the rules and concepts governing the game, unlike in gym class; everyone has been unfailingly nice, as with this summer's volleyball experience and unlike in gym class; and most important, I'm now an adult with my own perspective to guide me.

Junio writes, "Does anyone have tips for how to stop yourself from wanting something?" The temptation she'd like to avoid is a cold beer after a long workday. For me, it's Ruffles potato chips (and other things). I've wished for a long time that I could manage not to want the empty-calorie foods, as have lots of other people. I have two ideas about this: one, some goals that are possible take so long to reach that they falsely seem impossible; two, sometimes you can find a way to allow yourself one of your major temptations and make up for it elsewhere. Together these two principles can go a long way toward helping to cope with temptation. I get a craving for Ruffles every so often and I try to let myself buy them no more often than every five or six weeks. When I get a bag, I eat half of it in one day. I enjoy it. But the next day I have a weird feeling in my head and stomach—not quite a pain or ache, but just sort of yucky. I imagine I'm feeling the simultaneous dehydration and bloating caused by all the salt in the chips. For a year and a half during and after the time I was losing weight, whenever I was tempted to buy Ruffles, I reminded myself of the yucky way I felt after indulging in chips. It didn't work. I relied on other tactics, such as avoiding that aisle in the store, eating baby carrots, or deciding to wait only until the next day (over and over again). And I decided eating too many Ruffles every five or six weeks would just have to be okay. All of a sudden, this year, I realized my Ruffles craving had lessened. When I thought about eating them, or saw them in the store, most (not all) of the time I was put off by remembering the dehydrated feeling I'd get from them. It took a long time, but the frequent craving has subsided and become only a minor one. So for some people with food cravings, trying for a long time to consciously turn yourself off to the food can work (though not as quickly as one might like). It seems that everything having to do with getting fit, losing weight, and changing eating habits takes a long time, so we just have to resolve to keep trying no matter how long it takes. My other idea, give in to the temptation and make up for it somewhere else, can work for empty-calorie indulgences that do not run in the many hundreds of calories. One of those big imperial pints of beer or half a cup of ice cream is probably not as outrageous as half a large bag of Ruffles. In that case, what I'd do is give in to it and do some extra walking on the way to and from work, or skip a couple of daytime soft drinks or other workplace treats. Since we're all going to indulge in treats we love, we might as well look at the daily options. Give up where it hurts the least and indulge where it feels the best. After spouting my own thoughts, I thought I better see what credentialed writers or health professionals have to say about hard-to-resist food temptations. A search on the term "resist food cravings" turned up nothing but three or four commercial or hospital sites. Those with something to sell took the "you can't do it on your own" approach. The usual predictions of doom, coming from a doctor in this example, sound so discouraging that it's no wonder if we all assume we have no power over food. Dr. Tate at tatehealthcare.com says:

You’re familiar with the “yo-yo dieting cycle:” you start a weight-loss diet. You do well for the first few days. Soon, however, your hunger and food cravings start to build…. You try to resist these food cravings but eventually you lose control…. Of course, you quickly regain any fat you’ve lost—plus even more. Most Americans are doomed to repeat this yo-yo cycle for the rest of their lives! The fact is—without medical help—you, too, are almost certainly doomed to repeat this cycle for the rest of your life. Almost every year, you’ll weigh more than you did the year before. Naturally, you’ll feel worse and worse about your looks and your health….

Whoa! Thanks for the encouraging words. We might as well give up right now and go lie on the couch with some bon-bons. Eventually I found some constructive ideas by searching for "food cravings." This weight-loss coach advises a basic healthy diet that can help prevent cravings from getting out of hand. This article by a nutritionist offers insight into cravings but ends by saying you should eat what you crave in moderation. The problem for me was that there were too many astronomical-calorie foods being eaten in moderation, amounting to almost the whole diet. (Pizza in moderation, peanut butter in moderation, pastrami sandwiches in moderation, ice cream in moderation, french fries in moderation… you get the picture.) This tough-talker says it's all about mental strength! I have to admit I kind of like this site in spite of its in-your-face attitude. I bet this guy's an ex-Marine. Sample quote: "Don't give me your little stories." Hoo-rah! Doreen Virtue, Ph.D. says cravings are generated by emotions. Guess what: she's a psychotherapist! Weight-loss coach Jennifer R. Scott advocates "stalling" to stave off a craving. Sometimes if you can wait twenty minutes, have a glass of water, and get involved in another activity, you can forget the craving. I use the twenty-minute rule a lot in the evenings when I want to munch. Dr. Dorie McCubbrey says cravings can arise from habits and that introducing variety into your routine and your diet, you might be able to break the pattern of daily empty-calorie temptation. MSNBC's Nutrition Notes says to eat frequently enough to avoid overwhelming hunger and a blood-sugar drop, and don't be so strict with your food rules that you create cravings of what's forbidden. So, I think we do have power over food temptations. Exercising this power just happens to take a lot of effort, time, and practice. What's worked for you? It doesn't have to work every single time to be a great idea.