Thursday, May 9, 2013

THIS IS WATER



I watched this today.  It is a powerful piece.  The speaker talks very eloquently and with plenty of humor about something I feel very strongly about - our choices on how to approach our day to day existence.  In my life many people have asked me, "Cris, why are you always so happy?"  I think this piece sums it up pretty well.

I get angry, just ask my family or my closest friends.  I get sad, I get lonely, I get frustrated.  But I choose joy.  I choose not to let the mundane, the boring, the exasperation take over.

What choice will you make?  It truly is up to you.

Monday, May 6, 2013

Murky optimism

I am an optimist.  I believe things happen for a reason and while that reason may not always be clear at that moment, I have very strong faith that it will work out in the end.  Because of this belief I usually trust the situation and my instincts that guide me.

Right now, though, the future is pretty murky.  I can't really see what is going to happen next in my life and that is a frightening place.  Change is coming.  It's coming in a really big, unforeseeable way.  I'm struggling to hold on to my usual optimism and faith in the process.  Here is where my control-freak tendencies are kicking in...big time.  I want to know what is going to happen.  I want to KNOW how it is going to happen.  I simply want to know.  But I don't know.  I won't know, because it isn't all up to me, not entirely.  Then the fear and anxiety kicks in.

That was the space I was in this morning until I saw this on Facebook:


It's true.  I believe it to be true.  Change is hard.  Change is terrifying.  But I trust the process, as painful as it will be.  A week ago at this time I was processing through all the beautiful changes I experienced in my AIM2 training.  I'm STILL processing all of that experience and will be for a while.  It shifted me, though, and I didn't expect that to happen.  I set aside my mask of having to be a bad ass all the time, of having to be #1 in everything and allowed space for the process to happen.  

The process.  The process of being better, of being more whole, of being driven by the desire to truly affect ALL the people around me and not just the ones that think like me.  The process of change and growth.

Life is a process, too.  I'm trying to trust that it will be all be okay.  It may be different, but okay.  And when I start to doubt, when I start to fear, when I begin to believe the fear rather than the hope or the brave, I get little messages like the one above.

Every little thing gonna be alright.

Indeed, it will be.

Tuesday, April 30, 2013

Running Revelations

I didn't feel like running.  In fact, all I wanted to do was curl up in a ball and try to pretend that my life at this moment isn't really happening.

That means the ONLY option I had was to go for a run.  I put on my clothes, shoes, dropped the kids off at school and headed out.  I have so much going on in my head that I am overwhelmed to the point of being paralyzed.  Since ignoring reality isn't an option I'm willing to entertain, I needed to sort things out and running is my space to do just that.

I had a series of revelations as I ran:
  • I need to open myself up to the next thing that will happen in my life.  I don't know what it is but I need to allow the space to let it take shape.
  • Fear will NOT run my game.
  • I will BE BRAVE
  • My TRIBE is awesome and will be there to help me along the way.  ONE TRIBE.
  • I am committed to CHANGE.  I am going to change and I am going to CHANGE THE WORLD along with me.
The training this weekend was the perfect thing for this moment in my life.  I couldn't predict it and I would not have wanted it this way if I had been given the choice.  However, that choice is no longer mine and the messages I received this weekend are exactly what I needed to hear so that I can move, create space....

to SHIFT.

I am going to shift my reality.  I am going to shift from where I am now to a new place that is going to be nothing short of amazing.  It is going to take all the courage I have and the all that I can summon from my tribe.  But I'm going to do it.

Watch me.

Monday, April 29, 2013

Shifting

My big training (Les Mills BodyPump AIM2) happened this weekend.  It was amazing and awesome and changed me in ways I never expected.  I walked in to the training with some very big goals in mind.  I wanted to be a trainer, I wanted to be a national presenter.  I walked out of the training with a very different frame of reference.

The process was so many different things.  Some of it I expected - but most of it was more than I dreamed possible.  The amount of information we received is staggering and I am still processing all of it.  We were told yesterday, "Your thoughts today are what you were thinking yesterday.  So your thoughts tomorrow are really coming from today."  It is so true.  I am pondering so many things that came at us, through us and was floating around us over the weekend.

Saturday was more analytical and tapped into a lot of mechanics of instruction.  As an educator, that really intrigues me.  There were physical challenges, too, but I'm not going to discuss those.  I think a valuable part of the experience is not knowing exactly what is going to happen.  Taking the risk and going to a training with only a very vague idea of what will be expected is part of the challenge.  Sunday was a different animal altogether.  As a group we tapped into the emotions behind what drive us.  We tuned into the emotion in music.  I found myself crying and, at one point, sobbing as we went deeper into who we are as individuals, not just instructors.  I wasn't alone in finding the process emotionally wrenching.  I wasn't the only one in tears, I wasn't the only one floored by the emotions that came flooding through.

Here are just a few of the things I learned:

  • I CAN do BodyAttack and BodyStep and not die.  :-)
  • I truly want people to think I am powerful, energetic and positive.
  • My fear of my participants seeing me as weak, lazy or negative hold me back.
  • My competitive edge can be let go and it doesn't hold me back.
  • I am part of a community that is caring, supportive and honest.
  • I can let my ego drop away and still push really hard and feel good about what I am doing.


The amount of encouragement I received from my fellow instructors this weekend was one of the most unexpected treasures I experienced.  When we talked openly about our fears, our frustrations and our challenges I was able to open up a part of myself that I normally don't show to others.  It was so incredibly liberating.  It let me see the awesomeness all around me and not feel intimidated.  I could appreciate the beauty and progress and skill for what it is.  I was able to get outside of my own head (and ego) and see the experience in an entirely new way.

AIM2 Tribe with Trainer Kim

AIM2 Tribe with Trainer Megan


I think my biggest change I experienced this weekend (at least at this point in the processing) is that I now see that I am on a journey.  This journey will have different achievements and set backs along the way.  There is no true end point of this path if I am truly living it to the fullest.  I will continue to change and seek out ways to improve.  Completing this training is a major achievement in the journey.  Take careful note, I did not reference my instructor 'status' which was my entire POINT of taking this module.  The final evaluations won't be sent out for a few weeks.  When I first found that out, I was both disappointed and frustrated.  I mean...what is the OBJECTIVE if I can't find out how I did RIGHT NOW?!?!?!?!  (picture me stomping my feet and pouting)  What I didn't open myself up to is the idea that it doesn't matter - it is the process of becoming better, becoming 'gooder' (that will make sense to my AIM2 tribemates), becoming a more whole instructor.  THAT is how I finished.  I have so much work to do.  The label/status really isn't why I finished the module.  I wanted to be better and I think I did improve.  But I learned that I am really at the beginning of a journey and I have a long, long way to go.  I finally learned that the process is far more important than any one endpoint.

So, I am on a journey.  It is one that will have extreme highs and extreme lows.  But I'm not alone.  I am a member of the global team of Les Mills and we are ONE TRIBE.  I will continue to BE BRAVE.  I learned that I am part of team of people who will CHANGE THE WORLD.  That will happen whether I am teaching to 5 or 500.  They all deserve to have the best instructor I can possibly be.  I know it's a never ending process and I'll never stop learning and improving.  But I also know I'm damn sure going to keep working hard, shifting to keep pushing to be a better version of who I am now.

Kia Kaha


Tuesday, April 23, 2013

I turned a corner today

Today I turned a big corner in one of my on-going mental battles.  It is the battle of never being good enough.  It is the battle of my brain telling me nothing less than perfect is acceptable.  It is the battle I have every second of every day with my perfectionist brain telling me I should be doing more, doing it better and that I am failing.

Yesterday I posted on Ravely (my knitting forum) that I was panicking and freaking out over teaching CXWORX for the first time.  I kept trying to practice and screwing it up.  My brain kept telling me I'd never get it right and I was just going to fail, fail, fail.  Then, a member posted this in response to my panic statement:

You got this! How many times have you freaked out and then gone on to amaze everyone?


Those words stopped me in my tracks.  At first I was a bit offended.  WHAT?!?!?  Do you think I'm being an attention whore?  (well...maybe I am)  Then I stepped back and re-read what she stated.  She had a point.  The last time I was freaked out and was panicking was because my marathon training hadn't gone to plan.  I PR'd my race.  I freaked out about CXWORX training - I passed that.  

She had more than a point - she was absolutely correct.  Everyone else was telling me that I could do it, but I didn't believe it.  My brain couldn't comprehend the possibility.  

Today, I didn't give my brain the choice - I decided that I was going to practice and I was going to be okay with how things went.  No matter HOW they went.  This was my first time teaching this class.  Perfection was not expected.  I was teaching with someone I respect and whose feedback would be very valuable, so it was important to be prepared, but to do my thing.  If that 'thing' wasn't perfect, that is okay.  I refused to freak out today.  I took long deep breaths.  I practiced and then I let it all go.

For the first time, I walked into a new class to teach and I didn't feel so anxious that I was ready to vomit.  I felt calm and ready.  As the class started and my turn to teach came up I didn't feel that typical wave of nausea and heart palpitations.  I just relaxed and taught the class the way I knew how.  

Basically, I rocked it.  The only feedback the instructor gave me was to give a brief track intro so that the participants would know the basics of what we were about to do.  The rest, she said, was "awesome."

I'm not perfect.  I'm really damn good at what I do, though, and it is time I let some of that confidence take away the anxiety.  So, thank you, Dorothy, for telling me what I really needed to hear when I needed to hear it.  It won't always work, but the confidence I feel right now, along with the feeling of peace I had earlier today is something I plan on keeping around.

Monday, April 15, 2013

Sorrow

I was planning on blogging about my CXWORX training experience from this past weekend.  I was going to talk about the challenges involved, the sense of accomplishment, the joy of success.

Then the Boston Marathon finish line was bombed.

I am a runner.  It is my passion.  The Boston Marathon is one of my goal races.  It is a testament to speed, perseverance and ability.  It is place that I hold very dear to my heart.  Boston is a beautiful city and its marathon is an amazing feat of stamina.

Today I learned how much I feel connected to my running family.  Not just here in the USA but all over the world.  I have connected to and met and learned so much from my fellow runners.  They understand my drive and desire to do better, be faster, go harder.  We are a family and care deeply for each other.

As I saw the events unfold in almost real-time, I cried.  My heart broke for the runner thrown to the ground from the blast as he tried to get up, but couldn't.  I felt anguish for all those runners who will never be able to cross the finish line because they didn't beat the 4:09:3X time when the first bomb exploded.  My soul was truly shaken, though, by the pictures of the bystanders who had been injured.  My family, my friends and my students have come to my finish line to cheer me on and watch me complete an amazing journey of 26.2 miles.  They came because they cared. They may have also thought that I was crazy but they came anyway because they knew it mattered to me.  They have been one of those bystanders.

Those people were there to cheer for someone.  Even if they didn't necessarily know anyone.  They were supporters - and as a runner - they keep you going.  I am mourning the loss of innocence that has, for me at least, enveloped that finish line experience.  It is a special place of awe, enthusiasm and joy. It transcends words but pictures usually tell it well. Look at the picture of two American elite runners embracing after the race.  It is a beautiful, almost sacred place. But today, it took on an ugly, awful patina.

I did see the helpers, though.  I saw them immediately.  If you don't know what I mean by the helpers, here is the quote from Mr. Rogers, and I think it is beautiful:

  "When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, 'Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.' To this day, especially in times of 'disaster,' I remember my mother’s words, and I am always comforted by realizing that there are still so many helpers - so many caring people in this world." -- Mister Rogers


Monday, April 8, 2013

Taking the Time

One of my favorite songs on my Group Cycling playlist is this:



I love it for many reasons, but it is this line that drives me:

"First I took the time out then I put the time in"

I find that in order to do what I do to the best of my ability, it requires that I step back and look at what I'm doing and how I'm doing it.  Then, it's time to make adjustments and put the work in to make change happen.  Success is not an accident.  Hard work doesn't guarantee a positive outcome but it certainly skews the odds in your favor. 

I'm taking the time now to make changes to push myself to be better.  I can't wait to see where it takes me.