no way out but through
Between poorly managed blood sugar level and serious PMS, I managed to have myself a pretty good temper tantrum last night at Derby. I am glad it was not at work and mostly not in front of people.
Yet another endurance practice not completed. It's been one thing and another for weeks now, including lack of endurance. (Also work, migraine, vomiting, work, getting burgled, etc. But also some plain lack of endurance.) This one is frustrating me because it wasn't that; my body felt fine. I skipped the off-skates running grapevine drill, because my bare feet hurt (and also that’s the kind of thing that reliably leads to me falling on my ass) but otherwise, there was nothing in that practice I couldn’t do. Even all together, even after the plyometrics and the warm up. Dammit, I did all the lunges and my legs were still good. Physically I was fine for another hour.
Being at the front of a line on a 40 person whistle drill was just too much pressure, in that mood. In retrospect, yeah, a lot of the criticism and chatter and the yelling I was hearing probably wasn't directed at me. It's hard to tell when it's all coming from behind you and you can’t see anyone else screwing up. When you can't see that other people are already dropping out and falling, little stumbles feel huge. In retrospect, I was doing it fine and I just got angry. Angry at Joy, for putting the self-identified slowest skater at the front (maybe that was meant to keep the pace reasonable, it was hard not to take it as a straight-up motivational humiliation thing) and angry at myself for still being the slowest skater.
It gets hard to walk in every week and do something painful and sweaty and difficult, know every week I'll be the slowest, the clumsiest, one of the first to drop. To be tired and sore and bruised and walking funny a lot of days, and still be nowhere near good enough. I’m not great at being a beginner, especially in front of people. I’m overly proud and prickly by nature. I’ve been trying so hard to fight myself on this, tell myself it’s not that I’m bad, I’m just new, it’s natural and expected and okay. That no one’s judging it as anything but learning. That I don’t need to be frustrated or embarrassed. It mostly works.
Sometimes it doesn’t work. Sometimes I drop out of a drill that’s going fine and huff outside to cry and punch a trashcan. Because sometimes it just sucks. And sometimes I’m real hormonal. And that, in its own way, is okay too. Mostly in the way where there aren’t other options.
Sometimes I think I should quit. It’s hard and sometimes it sucks and I’m not an asset to anybody. But then I remember how much I love it after scrimmage. Remember how much I want to play. I think about putting this much time and pain and effort into something and not actually getting to the part where you do it, and the choice is really obvious. There will be no quitting. At least not until I’ve actually gotten past the awkward beginning to the meat of it.
There it is. Unsurprisingly, it comes back to realizing I need to work harder. I was making a serious, six-day-a-week effort to build muscle and stamina, and I stepped back from that. I thought that was just to get me through the initial awkwardness of starting athletics. I was right, up until the part where I thought that part was over. It is not.
So, back I go to six-days-a-week. Drank protein after practice last night. Did 100 crunches and 10 pushups this morning. Ate an egg and a half for breakfast. Will do another set of crunches and pushups, plus some squats and planks, before I go to bed.
Working harder will make it better. This should not feel like revelation.
Yet another endurance practice not completed. It's been one thing and another for weeks now, including lack of endurance. (Also work, migraine, vomiting, work, getting burgled, etc. But also some plain lack of endurance.) This one is frustrating me because it wasn't that; my body felt fine. I skipped the off-skates running grapevine drill, because my bare feet hurt (and also that’s the kind of thing that reliably leads to me falling on my ass) but otherwise, there was nothing in that practice I couldn’t do. Even all together, even after the plyometrics and the warm up. Dammit, I did all the lunges and my legs were still good. Physically I was fine for another hour.
Being at the front of a line on a 40 person whistle drill was just too much pressure, in that mood. In retrospect, yeah, a lot of the criticism and chatter and the yelling I was hearing probably wasn't directed at me. It's hard to tell when it's all coming from behind you and you can’t see anyone else screwing up. When you can't see that other people are already dropping out and falling, little stumbles feel huge. In retrospect, I was doing it fine and I just got angry. Angry at Joy, for putting the self-identified slowest skater at the front (maybe that was meant to keep the pace reasonable, it was hard not to take it as a straight-up motivational humiliation thing) and angry at myself for still being the slowest skater.
It gets hard to walk in every week and do something painful and sweaty and difficult, know every week I'll be the slowest, the clumsiest, one of the first to drop. To be tired and sore and bruised and walking funny a lot of days, and still be nowhere near good enough. I’m not great at being a beginner, especially in front of people. I’m overly proud and prickly by nature. I’ve been trying so hard to fight myself on this, tell myself it’s not that I’m bad, I’m just new, it’s natural and expected and okay. That no one’s judging it as anything but learning. That I don’t need to be frustrated or embarrassed. It mostly works.
Sometimes it doesn’t work. Sometimes I drop out of a drill that’s going fine and huff outside to cry and punch a trashcan. Because sometimes it just sucks. And sometimes I’m real hormonal. And that, in its own way, is okay too. Mostly in the way where there aren’t other options.
Sometimes I think I should quit. It’s hard and sometimes it sucks and I’m not an asset to anybody. But then I remember how much I love it after scrimmage. Remember how much I want to play. I think about putting this much time and pain and effort into something and not actually getting to the part where you do it, and the choice is really obvious. There will be no quitting. At least not until I’ve actually gotten past the awkward beginning to the meat of it.
There it is. Unsurprisingly, it comes back to realizing I need to work harder. I was making a serious, six-day-a-week effort to build muscle and stamina, and I stepped back from that. I thought that was just to get me through the initial awkwardness of starting athletics. I was right, up until the part where I thought that part was over. It is not.
So, back I go to six-days-a-week. Drank protein after practice last night. Did 100 crunches and 10 pushups this morning. Ate an egg and a half for breakfast. Will do another set of crunches and pushups, plus some squats and planks, before I go to bed.
Working harder will make it better. This should not feel like revelation.