Anudder Tough Mudder...

Everybody's talking about Tough Mudder - and since I first heard of it I've been talking about it too, insisting that it looks awesome but that there was no way I could / would / or should do it.  My friend and colleague recently blogged about signing up saying that it was for the challenge and to give purpose and direction to her training.  Emy's blogs inspire me - and I read this and thought 'good on you honey, I'm not doing it'... Tough and Tougher - Emy's Blog.

So, as you can imagine, I'm still trying to get over my state of shock that I too now have signed up.  So why the change of heart, you ask?  To be honest, there has really been no change of heart.  I'm still terrified, I'm still not sure that I can do it and still believe that some of the course will be borderline impossible for me.  I still think that coming back from my wedding and honeymoon only three weeks before the event will disrupt my training and add further challenge to an already challenging event to train for physically and mentally.  So why did I sign up?

Was it peer pressure?  Yes and no.  Alexander runs a bootcamp, I train in; everyone from bootcamp is entering the challenge as a team.  But there was no pleading or judgement - everyone was cool with me saying no way hosé.  But everyone was doing it and I was starting to feel left out, and like I was letting the team down by not going.  So there was peer pressure, but as usual I was the jury of my peers, I was putting the pressure on my self.

I was also the one doubting myself -- I started to listen to what I was thinking - that if there were some things I couldn't do I'd be letting the team down, and that I'd never be strong enough or fit enough or brave enough.

How ridiculous - I was worrying about letting the team down if I tried and couldn't do everything or wasn't good enough, and I was worried about letting the team down by not trying at all.  What an awful lot of worrying.  And Alexander said - 'do it, don't do it, stop worrying, I just don't want you to regret not doing it'.

I remember the days of Canada fitness testing back in primary school - I was so unfit and fat and uncoordinated I was actually allowed (and encouraged by our school's gym teacher Mr C.) to sit in the library and read and was still given a participation certificate.  I was absolutely alright with that.  I was good at reading, not so good at running and jumping, and was happier to not try than to fail.  I'm still sometimes that way - but I don't like that about me and it is something I try to work on.

That's not me anymore.  Nearly 20 years after 'participating' in Canada fitness testing from the comfort of the school library I went back to show Mr. C. my certificate and medal for completing my half marathon.  He didn't care, but clearly I did.  I've done lots of things I was afraid of doing, gone here and there mostly by myself, tried this, challenged that, but I'm still afraid of physical challenges, afraid of getting hurt, afraid of not being good enough.  Alexander is right - I want to do this and am afraid.  (Yes Alexander - just like that cache at the top of Glacier mountain that we almost found - I wanted to but it got dark and cold and hard and I was afraid and I talked myself out of it and us back down the mountain - my only regret from our Canada holiday).

So why did I sign up? Because Alexander is right, I will regret not doing it - and the old me would have been alright volunteering in the event first aid tent, would have accepted that there are things that other people did and I didn't because I couldn't.  That's not me anymore - I was already feeling sidelined and left out 6 months before the actual event.  I was going to regret not doing something and it was my choice, not Mr C.'s doing, and it wasn't too late to change that so I signed up.

I honestly am still terrified and still doubt whether I will be able to meet every challenge on the day but I'm going to train for it, I'm going to go, I'm going to try my best, I'm going to 'give it all I got' and if I'm going to let the team down at least I'll do so stewing in mud and fun instead of sitting at home in a puddle of excuses and regret.  If you are interested, here is the tough mudder official video.

And this is not grade school, and this team is okay with my strengths and weaknesses just as I am with theirs.  And Alexander smiled with his mouth and his eyes when he said 'I'm glad you are coming - we are going to have so much fun together'.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HgzGwKwLmgM&feature=relmfu

Free to be me

This morning I sat in the sunshine after my yoga class, and thoroughly enjoyed my still warm cinnamon and raspberry muffin and even warmer hot chocolate.  This in itself is an achievement.  More often than not, for me the enjoyment of such a moment is negated by feeling guilty about eating something I probably shouldn't be eating, or by biting in and realizing that indulging in a fleeting craving is so completely out of line with what I want for myself that I'm put off of eating it, or by analyzing the macronutrient contents and calculating what that indulgence will do to my bottom line which for me literally is my bottom.  For the most part this is actually a good thing for me -- the guilt and the mental and psychological drama are seldom worth the muffin, and knowing this helps me make better minute by minute and meal by meal choices.  Don't get me wrong -- I love food.  I really really love food.  I have a great relationship with food -- a much better relationship than when I ate whatever whenever, and I am much happier and healthier as a result of learning to make better choices.  As a personal trainer I always tell weight loss clients to look for balanced eating that is sustainable forever, with occasional guilt free 'cheat meals' and indulgences.  As a real person who always has and always will struggle with my weight and with the headspace that comes with struggling with your weight over years, I appreciate that even when the eating is right, until the headspace is right the struggle with weight is one waged mentally and heavily worn psychologically, regardless of what is happening physically and aesthetically.  For me, eating well comes fairly easily now; the headspace, however, takes a lot more effort.  That is why it was an achievement to simply sit in the sunshine and enjoy my still warm cinnamon and raspberry muffin and even warmer hot chocolate.

The muffin and the hot chocolate weren't actually part of my plan for this morning -- the plan was to powerwalk to yoga, have a quick and suitable protein snack after yoga and then head up to the gym for a  huge workout to make up for one that I had missed earlier this week.  But the sun was shining, and on the walk in I'd stopped to look out over the horizon where a bunch of surfers were gathered -- I expected to see ocean and I got to see a whale, which is clearly a good excuse for being a few minutes late for yoga.

And the yoga teacher, FF, is wonderful.  He is Italian; his voice is calming, gentle, and reassuring even though he speaks quickly and passionately.  He uses phrases like 'big time, big time' when leading the yoga which makes me laugh and relax.  I love hearing him call the yoga poses by their Sanskrit names through his Italian accent -- it helps me bring my mind back to what I'm doing.  He knows me well enough to be laugh at me (just a little) when my ego clashes with my body and my breathing and I fall over in a tangled heap.  He encourages the class to listen to their body and mind and makes the yoga work for us as individuals.

When FF is teaching I don't feel like a yoga failure because I haven't worked out the whole meditation thing.  Instead of feeling stressed out about not being able to meditate and getting impatient and twitchy and wishing that the class could be over or sneaking out -- I spend a few minutes with a gratitude practice.  I have been trying to make a habit of thinking through what I'm grateful for for a long while -- it is crazy that this is something that I have to try to do when there is so much to be grateful for.  I have to admit that often it is almost a chore; brush your teeth, crawl into bed, try to concentrate on gratitudes before nodding off.  After a yoga class, they just seem to flow.  I am always amazed at how many grateful thoughts pop into my mind in such a short time -- getting to talk to my dad on his 66th birthday when we feared he wouldn't see is 60th, a phone call yesterday from my oldest and dearest friend, waking up early for breakfast and coffee with AR, falling asleep talking about our upcoming holiday, getting paid to do work that I love in my business which is flourishing, a whale seen while walking this morning, a sunny day -- all in a matter of a few breaths.

I love the feeling of being all sweaty, stretched out, and bathed in gratitude.  I leave the studio -- the sun is shining, the sky is blue, and I feel happy -- and as I'm walking towards the gym I smell these muffins, fresh out of the oven.  The moment was right and I was in the moment.  The headspace was right -- and I knew that I could indulge and enjoy guilt and drama free.  So, this morning after my yoga class, I sat in the sunshine and thoroughly enjoyed my still warm cinnamon and raspberry muffin and even warmer hot chocolate.

"The truth is, I do indulge myself a little the more in pleasure, knowing that this is the proper age of my life to do it; and, out of my observation that most men do thrive in the world do forget to take pleasure during the time that they are getting their estate, but reserve that til they have got one, and then it is too late for them to enjoy it"

-- Samuel Pepys        

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_26FOHoaC78

References:

Gombinsky, L. (2009).  "The Physical Me" in  Just Do It! Young Conductors in their new world.  Ed. A. Sutton and G Maguire. Birmingham, UK: Conductive Education Press. pp.11-17.

rhythmic meditation

I have always loved the start of my adult CE sessions; the exchange of sincerely warm greetings and chit chat of friends catching up on life and the real world events from one session to the next; 'how are you's?' where the question is genuine and the response listened to; transferring or getting settled and ready to start; the tension of expectant silence before the first task which I always let linger for just an extra second or two so that we can all clear our minds, come together mentally, and prepare for the physical work at hand; and finally the first task delivered and repeated with rhythm so deliberate, connecting and uniting us, setting the tone, tempo, and mood for the start of the session.  I have learned that these moments are so precious, even if the session is not going to be a traditional session following a formal task series, and especially when the participant(s) are accustomed to formal CE.

AR -- my partner in crime (as well as in business an in life) -- is lucky enough to be the person who gets my unedited and often exuberant monologue response to 'Hey, how was your day?'.  A couple of weeks ago he said -- "...this rhythm thing you are always talking about, I don't understand it".  And I sort of froze.  Not because I don't know, but because I haven't been asked to explain it in such a long time, and because over the years it has become so intrinsic to what I do that I had to work out my response.  So, what exactly is this rhythm thing we talk about and how is it used in CE?  I wish I could explain it simply -- I can't -- but I can try to exemplify how I use it, as a traditional CE facilitation and otherwise, in this instance as a meditation.

For example, CW is an adult with mixed tone athetoid cerebral palsy who has been doing CE with me on and off for the past 7 years and who has accomplished some phenomenal things.  She is fearless and adventurous, quick witted and mentally agile, always open to trying new things, always working out ways to make something possible despite a relatively uncooperative body, particularly over recent years where suspected cervical myelopathy has wreaked havoc on her body.  We are working intensively at the moment to regain CW's leg strength following a hip operation, and she is awaiting major neck surgery.  We have agreed that our work will be more like 'physio' / rehab / training' for now -- focussed on regaining leg strength and nothing else, avoiding anything upper body because of the risk of doing further damage to her neck; repeating very specific movements several times and then resting and repeating; more like a gym session than like CE.  She is understandably anxious and frustrated.  I see it in her face, hear it in what she voices; when I arrive we talk about updates from doctors, and changing neuropathy, and how things have been since I've last seen her.  And then that pause; that expectant silence, and the first task, the tone, the deliberate rhythm, the counting.  I see her face relax as she counts with me; the familiar rhythm washes over her, the worry and anxiety and frustration shelved for later, the mind cleared and focussed and ready to take on that body.  For CW the rhythm is a meditation of sorts, powerful and soothing, without it I'd just be working with her legs, not her mind.

This meditative use of rhythm CW utilizes reminds me of a woman with late stage MS that my conductive mentor AB and I worked with years ago in Toronto who used rhythm in a very similar way.  I used video footage of this woman for a conference presentation years ago in South Hampton.  The video was of a session where this woman was working with myself and AB, all three of us verbally intending and counting over and over and over again, trying to coax a leg locked in extreme and painful spasm to relax millimeter by millimeter.  A senior conductor at that conference, in fact one of my university lecturers and the person who had taught me how to work with rhythm, challenged me on the use of repetition and counting in such an intense one on one situation.  At the time, I only knew that it felt right, and I was too intimidated to defend my choice.  Looking back, and I remember that session and the work with that participant so clearly, I recognize the same meditative thing happening that I now see with CW.  The familiar rhythm washing over her, giving her a way to use her mind to shift away from the pain of the spasm, to relax her mind so she could relax her body.  I remember that it was hard for her to count when the spasms were violent, but that when she 'caught the rhythm', breathed, counted that her face changed, softened; that her eyes were no longer squeezed shut, that her body stopped bracing, and if necessary tears could flow uninhibited.  The rhythm was not part of the task solution, but again the way in to the body, the body mind connection.

You have to be able to focus, to control your energy. You need to make it your ally, instead of trying to harness it, to muscle it. That wastes energy too. There has to be a harmony between you and your body. Your mind and your body, and your soul have to connect in order to move forward. And this comes through relaxation.

                                 ~ Elvis Stojko, Canadian world champion figure skater

Conducting "Enable Me"

The Phys. Ed. Studio is the name of the personal training studio that AR, my partner in crime (as well as in business and in life) and I plan to open when the time is right.  It will house a fully accessible studio suitable for training people with disabilities and their able-bodied counterparts and a purpose built Conductive Education classroom.  Until we are actually able to open the doors to the studio it will exist in our dreams and goals, and here in cyberspace in the form of a blog about our passion, life lessons, and work.  Until then we both work as personal trainers out in the community at large and in local gyms.

Over the past several months my personal trainer alter ego has had the chance to work as the personal trainer / conductor on an amazing pilot project run by Community Care Northern Beaches called Enable Me.  This is a government funded research project looking at whether pro-active, preventative allied health and exercise can help elderly people remain living independently in their homes for longer, improve their function and confidence on activities of daily living, and can impact their overall health and wellbeing.  Self motivated senior citizens who meet the specified criteria receive 9 weeks of personally tailored, fully funded therapy and exercise in their home.  Interviews carried out by a case manager before each person starts and after they have finished the program provide detailed information from the individual client's perspective on their progress towards self identified goals and most importantly on their sense of well being and quality of life in order to ascertain whether the intervention has been effective.

Normally I am very reluctant to participate in research projects, and when I have done so it was under duress.    However, this project appeals to me for a number of reasons.  For one, it is not seeking to determine the efficacy of Conductive Education.  Also, it comes from service providers recognizing a population trend and trying to pro-actively address a gap in service provision.  And most importantly to me,  I was invited into the project as a personal trainer because of the combined skill sets I have as a conductor and  personal trainer.  So far, it has been amazing.  I have been given a licence to work conductively with a 'non-motor disabled population'.  With every participant in every interaction I have to pick, choose, and combine both professional disciplines -- adapting exercises to make them suitable to this population, teaching functional mobility and specific task solutions, finding the why and the how so that the what is worth doing.

And I get to hang out with these awesome people in their 70's, 80's, and even 90's -- I don't know, maybe it is because I'm so far from home, or because my grandparents aren't around anymore, or because I'm an old soul but I love the eccentricities, the words of wisdom and words of a completely different nature, the stories of days gone by.  I hope when I'm in my 80's I can bear the idea of some personal trainer with dumbbells and  exercise tubing showing up at my door a few times a week for exercise.  My time is appreciated and I am rewarded in so many ways.  I am grateful that I am one of the lucky few people in the world who gets to make a living doing something that I love and that every day something happens at work that thrills or inspires me.

My words of wisdom today come from Mrs.BP.  Last week, while walking through her retirement village, I was treated to a running commentary on everybody who passed by.  We were taking the scenic back route so as not to pass by the reception lounge where a farewell was being held for a retiring manager.  As Mrs.BP explained, she was lots of things, but definitely not a hypocrite, and she didn't like this manager and had expressed this to other people, so absolutely would not be going to the farewell for nibblies and farewell drinks.  I asked why she didn't like this manager -- and Mrs.BP said that it was because at the age of 86 she only had time for people who made her happy, not people who made her upset.  She went on to say that some people were so draining with their complaints and their 'poor-little old-me-itis', while others were so uplifting and always had a pleasantry to exchange, and that in fact she could tell by the look on someone's face and the way they were standing whether it was was in fact a good idea at all to stop and chat or to just pass by and nod.


"Man is fond of counting his troubles, but he does not count his joys.  If he counted them up as he ought to, he would see that every lot has enough happiness provided for it."
                                                                                                                   ~Fyodor Dostoevsky