Fitocracy

So I noticed a Facebook friend, Cat Melnyk, posted a workout on a website I’d never heard of, FITOCRACY.  It’s a site that allows you to track your workouts, no matter what you do.  I started to check it out using the phone app, but it’s really hard to edit workouts.  By the time I got to the website a week later, I was unable to edit the first workout I posted, even though it was wrong.  Frustrating.

Since then I have logged a few more workouts.  They have a pretty comprehensive list of weight lifting exercises which is really nice.  Each one has a description so you can tell if you’re choosing the right one.  To be fair, thus far it seems a lot easier to earn points from lifting weights than doing cardio.  I had to ride two hours to earn a thousand points, but my twelve exercise weight routine scored about the same and only took 75 minutes.  I have yet to log any swimming, so I’ll have to see how that scores.  Walking is worth much less unless you record your heart rate.  

To be fair, I think you can log almost anything you do.  I searched for anything I have ever heard any of anyone doing for exercise and it's all there.  You can track yoga, yard work, P90X, cross fit, spin class, dance, canoeing, mountain biking, or playing sports.  For each workout you log, you earn points, badges, and props.  It’s kind of like a game.  You can easily track your progress against your friends and strangers, join groups of like-minded athletes, and read articles on a wide variety of topics.  It’s a pretty slick program.  I’m going to stick with it through the summer and see how it goes.   I’d love to have some friends join me and see what you think.  We can even have duals though I’m not sure exactly how that works yet. 

Check it out.  My name is costelloland on the site.  Follow me and I’ll follow you.  This could be fun! 

 

 

Postscript:  I just logged in swimming in the ocean for an hour, and it gave me a ridiculous number of points, so if you are a swimmer, Fitocracy is going to reward you mightily!  

 

Pride

Pride is the mask of one's own faults. ~Jewish Proverb

It’s the start of summer, a good time to make a goal or two.  A few years ago I used the summer to train for a running race in July, the Bix 7.  I started running when I was 37 and found it to be far more challenging than biking or swimming.  I worked at it for a couple of years and managed to reach the point where I could pretty effortlessly run 12 minute miles.  I know that sounds pretty pokey to the regular runner, but for me, it was a real accomplishment.  I genuinely felt proud.

Once I reached that point, I decided to try to run the Bix.  Over that summer I focused exclusively on running, doing nothing else.  I did a lot of speed and hill work and by the end of the summer, was able to run 10 minute miles pretty consistently.  Man did that feel good.  It was measureable progress.  It was clear that the work had paid off.  It was a testament to a good training plan.  I was really proud.  I remember thinking on one really good run in late August, "Man I’ve got this running thing under control."  I said to myself, "I feel great and I can honestly say, I will never run a mile slower that 12 minutes in my life again."

Proud people breed sad sorrows for themselves. ~Emily Bronte

Sigh. 

Fast forward 4 years.  Knee surgery and osteoarthritis have slowed me considerably.  Yesterday I ran a third of a mile at a 13 minute pace.  It wasn’t the lack of cardio strength that has slowed me down, but the twinging and swelling of a dysfunctional knee that stopped me after 300 strides.  I came home, took my meds and hobbled around.  Today it is better, but I have no illusions.  The road back to running may take longer than a summer.  I am taking no chances this time.  I will go slowly and carefully.  And if and when I run a 5K again, it will be with true gratitude.    

I have let my stubbornness and pride overrule good sense for many years.  I have been willing to work out to excess, to ignore legitimate pain, and to face doubts with no more than a momentary pause. But in the end, this stubbornness was stupid.  This year I have learned that my pride, something we all experience in accomplishment, is also a double-edged sword.  Pride is the emotion of the past.  It is a reward for work well done.  It is an emotion of the present.  It keeps us going and helps us overcome adversity.  But pride does not live in the future.  It does not make the days to come somehow easier or more successful.  Pride makes no promises.

So today I am grateful for this lesson.  I now know that my ability now says nothing about what I will be able to do tomorrow.  It is this knowledge that motivates me to go to the gym without procrastination.  Because today is all I have.  There’s no promise of tomorrow.  And if tomorrow is somehow better, I will greet that gift with humility and gratitude. 

This video got me out the door today: 

 

Endorphins

"Exercise gives you endorphins.  Endorphins make you happy.  Happy people just don't shoot their husbands.  They just don't." ~ Elle Woods, Legally Blonde 

After a long day of chores and paperwork that I had been avoiding, I sat down to supper with my bears.  The cubs were cranky from a long day of studying for exams, and when I started prodding as to what had been done, my youngest exclaimed in irritation, “Why do I talk to you? All you do is rave.”  I had a brief moment where I thought, I’ll show you raving, but I came to my senses and let him be a tired, frustrated kid.  I put on my sneakers and headed out the door for a walk, hoping to get my head and heart back in order.

I left my headphones behind, determined just to think and for the first half mile, my thoughts centered on how messed up my knee was.  I could feel the hitch in my step and wallowed in self-pity until I saw a family approaching.  Three boys under ten rode bikes while dad pushed a stroller and had a large grey dog on a leash.  “Dad, race me, race me.” And they were off in a burst of yelling, the boys outpacing dad, the stroller, and the dog.  Mom followed behind, walking slowly in yoga pants and a tank top, literally barefoot and smiling. A beetle zoomed through my hair and then settled on my neck for a quick bite before I swatted him away. 

A half a mile further down the road I broke a sweat, and a pair of runners crossed my path.  I heard the one coming from behind because she scraped her feet with her step.  She made that squeaky sneaker noise that comes from leading with your toes, and as she passed, she hiked up her too big running skirt and drifted to the right to avoid the woman approaching.  The second wore a bright green running bra and was leaning forward as she ran.  I wondered if that form was what the Chi Running was talking about.  Maybe if I’d found my Chi a couple of years ago, my knee wouldn’t be so messed up. 

The setting sun began to turn the sky pink, and I realized this was probably just about the last cool evening before the heat of Florida set in and cool temps only lived between midnight and dawn.  Two men in their twenties played catch in the street, comparing their spirals while their children romped in the front lawn.  A little dog in a blue sweater escaped his leash and ran up behind me yapping ferociously until I turned to meet him, and he ran away again.  I heard a cracking sound that turned out to be a man trying to knock down cans with a leather whip.  I wondered, what kind of life do you have to lead to make that skill useful?

As a rounded the last turn of the route I have probably run a thousand times, I lifted my feet to run a little, even though I knew I shouldn’t.  A hundred strides in I felt a twinge and the aching began so I slowed up at my driveway as a pair of ducks floated down to my front lawn.  The mama was so pale.  An albino, I realized as she waddled off into the bushes for the night.  I waddled into the house as well, my head on straight, my heart at peace.