February and David Goggins

Run #1 of the 4x4x48 Challenge, March 5, 2021

February sucks.  It is the shortest month, but the longest.  It is a vast nothingness of nothing.  

Last February I trained for David Goggins’ 4x4x48: I prepared to run 4 miles every 4 hours for 48 hours in March. (If you’ve never heard of Goggins, look him up - you’ll immediately be both inspired and horrified). I did shorter runs during the week then multiple runs on the weekends to get ready. It helped me to have a goal to work towards and made the month go by with something to look forward to, if running 4 miles, every 4 hours for 48 hours and sleep deprivation is something one looks forward to.

So this year I needed a challenge to push me through this dreadful month.  At first I thought, in keeping with the “get uncomfortable” spirit a la David Goggins, I will get up every morning at 5:45 to do something - walk, stretch, workout, meditate. I hate mornings and I especially hate dark, cold winter mornings, so that’s the uncomfortable part. Then I laughed maniacally at the thought of me getting up 45 minutes before I actually needed to.  That’s a little too uncomfortable. 

This thought process brought me to my answer, 2022’s F**k February Goal. Too often (like, too too often, like every night) I am just too tired, too mentally drained from herding cats all day (I’m a teacher).  Although I almost always get in my workout,  I can then sit in front of the television for hours so that not one more brain cell needs to function. My goal: I will not watch television on weekday nights so that I can write, workout and meditate.  Instead of making excuses that I don’t have the time because it’s being eaten away by Real Housewives and Cheer, I will spend my weekday evenings productively not being attached to my couch. I am not giving up weekends because a girl’s gotta live…and catch up on what she’s missed all week.

I’ve been wanting to bring this blog back to life so here’s to 2022’s F**k February Goal.  Check in, keep me accountable and let me know what gets you through your "February!"

Isn't It Ironic?

Yesterday, as I rested my arms between sets of triceps and shoulders during my weight training, I found myself Googling the hours of our the local ice cream shop for date night.

 

Hanging in There

Completely forgetting that my equilibrium gets thrown off by going on a playground swing did not deter my 40-something old self from signing up for an aerial silk class. 

Twice.

Honestly, when I thought this was a good idea, I forgot that I have an equilibrium issue.  Because I’m 40 something and if I didn’t write that nugget on a Post-it, it’s lost and gone forever.

 

I came across this studio near me that describes itself as “circus, aerials, pole, lyra, silks, burlesque” so basically, it screamed to my middle-aged self that this establishment was clearly something I had to look into. I decided on the aerial silks class because why wouldn’t I want to hang from the ceiling of a warehouse flipping my “don’t have the flexibility of a twenty something any more” body through brightly colored fabric? 

 

Did I mention that I’m also scared to death of heights?

 

I hope that by now you checked out the link above to see this amazing art. It is beautiful and powerful.  The ways in which bodies become gracefully entangled in these vibrant silks is magical.

 

And looks nothing like I did my first time.  And definitely not my second. 

 

I signed up for the beginner’s class for obvious reasons.  The first class lived up to its name.  The instructor taught us beginners slowly and methodically how to flip ourselves through the fabric in order to get that beautiful silk wedged right up the lady parts or to squeeze our thighs like a tourniquet.  I actually did everything and had fun, but as the minutes ticked on, I felt the nausea come on followed by body parts beginning to bruise.  By the time I got home, I had a headache, was sick to my stomach, and couldn’t walk up the stairs because of that damn material squeezing at the back of my knees as we playfully hung upside down like a bunch of monkeys.

 

Naturally, I went back a week later. 

 

This time, the beginner’s class catered more to the advanced students.  Why were there advanced students in this class? Great question with absolutely no answer. I spent most of this class standing my with mask-covered mouth open in awe of my classmates’ talents.  This instructor had us attempting to climb up our silk like a rope in middle school gym class, turn horizontal, then flip ourselves a few times up our silk.  Having a hard time picturing this? Understandable.  The doing was way worse.  Then we were to FALL out of this contraption in which we put ourselves.  Even though I didn’t participate as fully as I did the first time,  it was still enough that I was nauseous again, went home with a headache again, and felt the beginnings of more bruises - again.  It was extremely difficult, I was extremely frustrated but this class taught me an important lesson. I’m a quitter.

 

What’s that saying - fool me once…Well, I’m over aerial silks. But I bought a 4-class pass and still need to use 2 more classes.  

 

So, I’ll keep you posted on how burlesque goes.