My last workout

So I just realized I had my last workout at the gym I have been going to for the last 8 years.

That's kind of sad.        Actually, It's really sad.

You probably know if you read this blog that when the family moved here to North Carolina 9 years ago I was UNHEALTHY. I was working a regular 9-5 job and I was going out to lunch a lot and eating quick food because time was at a premium. I had 2 small kids and a husband that traveled. These aren't excuses. Looking back now I know I just didn't make my health a priority.

Certainly, busy people make time to get to the gym. I wasn't special. Just lazy.

So I got big.

For a while I ignored it. Used my usual excuses "big boned" and the like.

All that changed when we moved though because suddenly I was a stay at home mom with one kid in full-time school and another in preschool.

I had LOTS of free time.

It's hard to say you don't have time to get to the gym when all you have is time.

Or maybe I just hated laundry so much I was willing to start working out again just to not have to fold one more load?

Either way, I joined the gym and started with 20 minutes on the treadmill.

Seriously. I was walking for 20 minutes and I would leave sweaty and gross and I HATED IT. I hated every step because it was hard and it made me angry at myself for getting so damn out of shape.

You see it doesn't happen overnight. It's a thousand bad choices made over and over again.

The crazy part is that is the same way you fix it.

A thousand good choices made over and over again.

My first was the gym. Over and over again, day after day I went from 20 minutes on the treadmill to cardio classes to the weights.

I got faster and stronger and HEALTHIER.

There was the other side too where I stopped sneaking ice cream when the dog would wake me up at 3 am. Yes, a thing I did most nights. Or cookies. Or some other junk.

I starting doing all the things we all know we are supposed to do but don't want to because it's easier to make excuses.

Time passed.

Progress happened, as it does when you put your head down and grind.

Thursday morning I walked into my usually 930 class and for whatever reason, I was the only one.

Just me and the weights and so much sweat.

I was having a hard time with a plate pinch carry. Basically, I was holding two ten-pound weights in each hand pinched between my thumb and four fingers. I was supposed to walk 50 m with them then move on to the next step.

My hands kept slipping. I was getting frustrated. That's when coach said he liked it when I came in first to "test" the workout.

Because I was having a hard time the workout was changed.

I'm the gold standard.


Okay, that's a little ridiculous but remember just a few sentences ago I told you 20 minutes on the treadmill was horrible. Now workouts are being altered base on MY ability to do them.

Sadly though my progress is not what the blog is about.

Remember, I'm leaving my gym.

They have instituted a "no bag" policy like stadiums and concert halls.  While I understand the world we live requires businesses to make changes that they think will keep their customers safe I don't agree this is the way to go. At least not for this business.

What matters is that I can't tell you all about how you should be a sheepdog and how important training is then be in a facility that has ensured that I don't have anything to keep myself safe.

So it's new gym time.

Got to walk the walk. Not just talk the talk.

Lead by example.

At least that is the kind of person I would like to be. Those are certainly the people I look up to.

So I tried out a new gym this morning.

Although "new" Isn't really accurate. I tried it out about a year ago but I wasn't ready to leave the nest. Wasn't ready to start something new, despite the fact that it's like this gym was made for me.

There are punching bags and training guns and heavy weights.

Yes, you read that right.

Did I mention the signs on the walls say things like "hope is not a plan"?

Oh and last but not least membership at this gym gets me access to a private outdoor range where I can practice moving and shooting.

I know. I'm confused as to why I took so long when I knew this was an option.

2 things.

Number 1 is that I LOVE MY PEOPLE. They make the worst workouts better just by their mutual suffering.

Number 2 is that there are no classes. Everything is self-motivated and I seriously questioned whether, when it was up to me, I would actually work hard.

I realize that is insane.

I'm not going to start skipping the gym because I'm going by myself.

Did I forget who I am?

I should know I'm awesome.

So GOODBYE old gym.

GOODBYE awesome workout buddies.

GOODBYE the comfort of things that are KNOWN.

Functional Training

Right now some of you are yelling that you are not going to drink the Koolaid.

I get it. Seriously, I was you. I was actually tricked into joining. Bamboozled even!

For everyone else who is confused by my ranting here is what I'm talking about.

Functional Training is a tern for Crossfit.

But hold on one minute before you totally ignore me or start ranting about how you don't want to be the best at exercising.

There is a reason Crossfit is called Functional Training.

I'm talking to you moms!

You know that battle to only make one trip with the groceries?

Functional Fitness

You know how your toddler wants to ride on your back for an hour?

Functional Fitness

You know that balancing act you perform while you read one more bedtime story on the edge of the bed packed with a small child and every stuffed animal ever made?

Functional Fitness

You know when you run along the sidelines of your kid's soccer game trying to get the perfect "action shot"?

Functional Fitness

You know when you bend down to tie your little one's shoe for the 100th time?

Functional Fitness

Basically what I'm saying is that Crossfit is for you.

So this is my plea to you ladies to join me at the YMCA and try out a class.

Is it hard? YES

Is it worth it? YES

Will you be able to "keep up"? YES

Women and Guns

I posted this on my Facebook page. What followed was a back and forth mired in misunderstanding.

This is what I posted for clarification, it is about as clear as I can be about why I think women and guns are a good thing. 

I don't need you to agree but I'd like it if you understood.

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The main reason I love teaching women to shoot is that guns are the great equalizers.
Especially for women.

I can train every day. (Something I do) but men are inherently stronger and faster. That's genetics.

Don't get me wrong most men don't stand a chance against me but for the ones that do, they might be faster or stronger than me but they are not stronger or faster than a bullet.

I teach that talking and running are always your first options to get out of a bad situation. Before that is NOT being there at all.

But sometimes bad shit happens no matter what steps you take to avoid it and some people can't be reasoned with.

So should the police be by my side when this happens I will let them do their job but as it is more likely that I will be alone (or worse, with my kids) know that I won't hesitate to make sure I am the one that gets to go home tonight.

I don't think like this because I live in a "bad part of town" or because I'm looking for a fight.

I think like this because the world has changed and I can't sit in an ivory tower and pretend it's 1985. Bad people hate me without ever having met me.

If they knock on my door know that I am ready and I am going to help as many people as I can be ready too.

I am a Superhero

Sunday is Funday.

I spend most of Sunday's at open mat because that is fun to me.

What's "open mat"?

Good question.

It's a time when your BJJ (Brazilian Jui Jitsu) school lets everyone train but there is no lesson. Just people rolling together trying to get better at a sport they love.

When you work really hard the mats are covered in sweat. I mean covered!

Obviously, that is GROSS and it needs to be cleaned up.

Enter the cleanup crew. Or as it is less formally known the student and instructors.

I had a mop in my hand because I was in the Navy so I can out mop most people. 😜

Natalie was there too and as is the natural state of a 12-year-old girl she was being sassy.

One of the other members of the cleanup crew commented that she was past the age where she thought her parents were perfect superheroes.

I laughed for a moment before replying.

"Fuck that. I am a Superhero."


Or as close as you are going to get without any magical powers and Natalie agreed.


Side note. This is not about mommy shamming. You can be a great mom without being a secret ninja.

So sure she questions everything I say and revels in telling me I'm wrong but she doesn't question my superhero status.

And neither should you.

Flex Friday

Did a little bathing suit shopping today because this is the summer the bikini returns.

The time to worry about some imaginary beauty standard is over.

In the last ten years I have become so much stronger and faster and healthier. I am in the best shape of my life and I'm not stopping. I want to improve every day.

But none of that is what I'm talking about today.

Today is about the fact that while I was trying on bathing suits I noticed some super awesome back and shoulder muscles.

Then I spent 3 to 5 minutes flexing in the changing room. (it might have been longer I don't have a watch.) the mirrors were at the perfect angle and the lighting was magical.

Never have I wanted to be a professional fitness model more. I'm guessing they would have been able to flex much better than me but even with my amateur status, I was still awesome.

There are so many muscles back there. I mean all the muscles. ALL the muscles.

At home photo isn't as magical but still. I WILL SQUEEZE THE LIFE OUT OF YOU!

Who wants a HUG?

I have a wedding to go to in October. I'm thinking strapless. Other people should enjoy the view. It would be selfish of me to keep it from them.


side note: Someone at Jui Jit Sui said my legs were strong. You guys know that makes me giddy. I'll take that over "you're pretty" any day of the week.

Fear's enemy is preparation

We have the Ring Doorbell. It's cool and I can see who is at the door so I can decide if I actually want to answer it. Also I'm about to have a teenage driver in my house and if he thinks he can sneak out that is NOT going to happen. Or maybe he wants to sneak someone in? Either way, not on my watch.

I mean that's what I use it for but I think other people use it too keep an eye on their property and discourage thieves. If the Ring app is anything to go by it is also used to locate lost dogs, garbage thieves and random ding dong ditch perpetrators.

My daughter likes to scroll through the alerts. She hopes the pups find their owners and laughs at kids running from porches.

We had a quick conversation about why so many people post about cars turning around in driveways and people walking by on the sidewalk.

I explained that people see danger around every corner when they don't know what real danger looks like. So every person that walks by might be a robber casing their house and every car in their driveway might be a team of burglars ready to steal their awesome DVD collection.

It might also be someone who made a wrong turn on their way to a dinner party.

When you aren't prepared you can see darkness in every corner. Danger in every stranger.

The best way to conquer fear is to be prepared.


Are you prepared?


I might know a good place to start if you need help.

Sheepdog Response

I'm Broken Again or My Legend Only Grows

So you may remember a few years ago I broke my wrist.

I did get an awesome metal plate. So it was kind of a win. But more than the fact that I broke it was the stuff I did after the break.

I finished the race.
Didn't miss a day of "work".
Did a half MURPH within a month.
And was back training ninja stuff in a week.

Basically, I proved I'm a superhero.
Or insane. Sometimes it's a fine line.

I've tried to tell people I don't feel pain but it always sounds like I'm exaggerating or bragging.

I'm not. It's gotten me into trouble before.

Not feeling pain isn't a good thing.

But since I can't change it I will use it to my advantage to help my legend GROW.

So I'm broken again. The 2nd metatarsal in my right foot.

We are going to use the Ranger Up Grappling Classic as a timeline for my injury.

2 weeks till the tournament
Let's start with the how.

I mean that's what everyone asks.

What I say is "big guy fell on it." And while that is true it's a bit of a simplification.

What happened was I was training HARD and because I'm still a blue belt and do stupid stuff I had an active toe during a takedown and the person doing the takedown (the takedowner?) landed on it.

The noise it made was so scary everyone in class stopped. I of course laughed it off.

"I'm sure it's fine."-me

Everyone else seemed concerned.

Ice was procured. A chair was moved.

I was told to chill.

So because it did hurt and I was tired I agreed.

"It's just your tendons" -coach

Sure. Let's hope you stayed at a holiday inn express last night because you're not a doctor.

it's swollen but it doesn't look too bad right?

12 days out
For a few days I hobbled around but then it was feeling better and I don't have time for injuries.

Thank goodness for tape. Surely it will fix anything.

Please notice my foot has tape on it.

Back to training.

Does my foot hurt? Yes. Do I care? No.

So training hard is the only option.

7 days out
I'm concerned about the fact that my foot still isn't "better". But the swelling is down and the bruises are gone.

toes aren't supposed to be purple

I'm sure it's fine.

4 days out. Last hard roll. Last real training session. When I stepped off the mats I was pretty sure my foot was broken.

3 days out.
I call the orthopedist and make an appointment for the Tuesday after the long Memorial Day weekend.

Could they have squeezed me in tomorrow? I'm not sure. I didn't ask. I didn't want them to confirm what I suspected. As long as there was room for doubt I could compete.

"You're not going to tape your foot at the tournament are you?" -coach

I mean I was but I guess not now. Pretty sure the tape was only a placebo anyway.

Tournament day
10 matches! 10 matches. Some wins some losses. Not a bad day. I made some stupid mistakes but again, blue belt. That's pretty much a guarantee.

on the podium. 

Either way the foot felt pretty good. I was starting to think I overreacted by calling the doctor.

1 day after
"Whose coming to open mat?" -training partner

This chick is. Foot feels better and I want to try and work on the dumb stuff and hey, what else am I going to do on a Sunday?

2 days after
"Mom we're doing the MURPH right?"-Nat

 Of course we are peanut. Who says no to a kid wanting to honor a true hero and exercise?

squats squats squats

Please note I rowed instead of running because while my foot felt better running still wasn't an option.

3 days post Tournament
"Oh hey Doc."-me

That is for sure a broken foot so its a good thing I have a boot waiting in my car. I'll just slip into this sexy accessory.

"See you in 3 weeks."-me

boot at the pool. 

So to sum up I am a real-life superhero.

One last thing. If this sounds like one big brag it's this guys fault:

When you reinforce my bad choices with compliments it only feeds the beast. He did temper it with a dig about my mouth but whatever. Doesn't change the fact that you said something nice first. 

Mama Bear VS Sheepdog Mom

Moms want what's best for their kids. They want them safe to grow up and flourish. Live a better life than their parents. And when things don't go their way those same mom's, who cut the crusts off sandwiches and make homemade Halloween costumes, turn into fierce and dangerous Momma Bears.

The problem is that Momma Bear's claws and teeth aren't real. All roar and no bite.

Don't get me wrong lots of things in this world can be fixed with words and a strong backbone.

Momma Bears aren't a bad thing.

But there is something better. An option that does have teeth. An option that has claws and knows how to use them.

The world is complicated and sometimes the ability to defend yourself and those you love most is required.

Bears cannot be relied upon to attack when needed. Bears aren't Man's best friend.

That place of honor is held by the dog. (I don't want to hear about cats. That's crazy talk.)

So I don't want to be a Momma Bear I want to be a Sheepdog Mom.

I want to be your friend. I want to make you feel safe. But never for a moment doubt that if needed I have teeth and claws and I will use them to protect what's most important to me.

I know that in order to be a sheepdog I must first acknowledge that there are things in this world that are evil.  They are rare but they are still out there. At first, it's scary admitting there are things in the world that want to hurt you. But once you start to learn to be aware you realize you can avoid them.

It's liberating to know there isn't much you can't handle.

So who wants to be a sheepdog instead of a momma bear?

My favorite people have a sale going on right now. 

You know I have a favorite group and they want Mom's safe to so they have a discount code.

They have15% off the entire site now through Mother’s Day with code: SDRMOM

Another 365 days on this earth.

Next week I turn 43.

Forty-Three Years Old.

I should FEEL old. I should be slowing down right? Finding a nice relaxing hobby like knitting or fast mall walking. Maybe wear a lot more velour.

All of these are solid options.

FUCK THAT.

In the last month, I got to fight Tim Kennedy, I competed in a Crossfit competition and I signed up for the Ranger Up Grappling Tournament.

I have no plans to slow down. 

No plans to "go easy".

I wish I had found this purpose earlier in life but since I don't have a time machine that kind of thinking is useless so instead I'm just going to keep pushing forward. 

Keep striving to be better, faster, stronger, HARDER TO KILL.

So no pressure. No guilt. But if you're ready to join me let me know.

Like so many other things the first step is the hardest.

Sheepdog Training Part Deux

           From the day I finished the level one course I wanted more. I would have stayed forever just repeating the training over and over again if they would have let me in the most perfect version of Groundhog Day ever!!!

So when the amazing people at Sheepdog Response announced a level 2 class I was thrilled.

But before we get to how awesome the course was lets start at the end.

The moment three days of training is over and you feel a pit form in your stomach because although you are tired and sore you don't want to leave.

Surviving a difficult journey with a group of people forms a bond.

When you add to that the fact that we were all there with the same goal in mind it can be hard to walk away.

Then there are the instructors who so clearly have an intense desire to share their insane amount of knowledge.

I joked with another student about how we wanted this to be our life now. Wake up and train Self-defense, eat lunch then train weapons and Psy ops (is that what it's called?).

Like a real-life spy movie only better because I was the star.

It's hard to walk away from that unchanged.

When I went to the first class I already had a desire to be HARD TO KILL but I was unfocused and unsure about if what I was doing was enough or even the right thing.

I was so happy to realize I was doing exactly what I should be. Plus I got all kinds of tips for what needed more work. What I could be doing better.

I came back with a fire in my belly. With a renewed commitment to being the most badass mom on the block.

More than that though I realized there are a whole group of people who feel the same way.

A TRIBE.

That's the current vernacular.   That's what the kids call it.

Whatever you call it though that isn't the point.

The point is having people who understand what drives you and help you reach your goals. People who push you and offer advice to be better. People who understand your priorities.


I could write a 47 page paper about how much better I got in just three days of training, of what it feels likes to have some of the most deadly people on the planet compliment some tiny aspect of what you are doing.

Imagine Beyonce said you had a pretty singing voice?

Imagine Tom Brady said you had a good spiral?

These instructors are the BEST at what they do and they want to share that knowledge with you.

More than that though they want to help people.


Talking at the end of class with Tim Kennedy about what he was doing in the coming weeks he joked about going on a speaking tour to "make money" before he deployed again.  I countered with some comment about Sheepdog not making him a millionaire yet and we laughed. I could well imagine that between range time and travel, not to mention paying all the amazing instructors there probably wasn't much left over at the end of the day.

His response was so telling of a man that just wants to help make the world safer one person at a time.

"This is for my soul."

Think about that for a minute.   He is sharing his time and knowledge with as many people as he can because he genuinely cares. I guarantee if pressed the rest of the instructors would have a similar reason for being there.

Find people like this. Find them and learn from them.
Don't let anything get in your way. Don't let anyone tell you that you are too anything to give up on something important to you.

Side Note:
If you are reading this and you have questions or want to know more about this amazing group just ask. I will gladly tell you just how awesome I think they are and why you should take a class with them.

Never Quit

I attended Sheepdog Response's level 2 class this past weekend.

I'm working on a long post about how awesome it was but this is going to be short and sweet.

It was hard. Taxing both physically and mentally. What was amazing was how I felt physically.

Thinking back to a few years ago when a day at the zoo would leave me tired and achy. To a day when I would always chose the elevator/escalator/moving sidewalk over walking.

We did 3 days of almost 5 hours of hard physical work and I never got tired. Sure my heart rate went up and I was sweaty and breathing heavy but I never thought about how happy I would be when it was over.  I never looked at the clock counting the minutes till our next break.

Progress is SLOW and sometimes you feel like you aren't making any but don't quit.

If I can do this. You sure as shit can too.

True Friends

I was 35 before I realized what it was like to know people who don't judge or tell you that the things you like are stupid or that the choices you make aren't great.


I mean real friends do tell you your ideas are insane but they tell you that because they love you and want you to be safe and not get hurt. They tell you your ideas are crazy but that you are awesome for being crazy.

This isn't to bash any of the friends I made before 35. Some of them were and are still awesome people but I was never comfortable enough to be 100% me.

I worried that if I showed them the full level of crazy they would cringe and run away. I realize now they wouldn't have but I worried a lot about it then. I worried about a lot of things.

I wasted a lot of time on what others would think or say or know about me.

Foolish.

A thing I sincerely hope I am able to teach my kids a lot sooner than I figured it out.

None of this self-reflection is the point of this blog though.

It's a thank you to one of the few people who saw the full level of my crazy and said "let's be sisters."

Obviously, she is crazy too.

That goes without saying.

There are so many things about my ridiculous life right now that are directly thanks to her.

I don't mean little things. I mean BIG things. Most are thanks to her pushing and prodding.

We are not little talks people. I don't call to tell her about my new favorite coffee shop or some cute new shoes I got. We are BIG talks. Life changing talks and emergency calls in the middle of the night.

We are women of action. Not words.

So in an effort to change that and make sure she knows how awesome I know she is I am going to scream it into the internet void.

Thank you for everything.


If you were able to eavesdrop on just 10% of the shit I tell people about you your ego would no longer be able to fit in a normal sized elevator.

100 AGAIN

Today's workout was another 100 rep challenge.

You remember I got stupid last time and ended up pushing myself.

Not a bad thing. Seriously. You SHOULD FOR SURE PUSH YOURSELF to find your limit.

But this isn't some motivational speech bullshirt.

I don't have time for that, not to mention motivation is crap.

PS I totally have time to go into that but I'm still not going to.


So back to the workout today:

100 bench presses at 50% of your 1 rep max.

Now I haven't pushed my bench in a bit because I got jacked up. I haven't talked about this on here but I messed up my shoulder at the Ranger Up Grappling Classic in November.

By messed up I mean I partially tore my rotator cuff and tore my labrum. So like real real messed up but not enough to require surgery! Yeah. So since November it has been gentle lifting, no hard rolling and lots of complaining.

Finally though it is starting to feel better. FINALLY!!

So 63 pounds go on the bar and the bar gets pushed up 100 times.

I did a better job of estimating this time because I sure as hell wasn't going to do another 100.

It's funny. It seems like such a big number but when you chip away at it you're suddenly done and 100 doesn't seem like much at all.

Just 4 x 25
or 5 x 20
or 10 x 10

I mean there are so many variations and you don't even need to make the groupings the same number. You can switch it up however you want. Seriously you are the boss.

So basically I made another 100 rep challenge my bish!

On the Path to becoming a Sheepdog

One of the greatest things people say to me is that they are safe when they are with me.


SAFE.


In a world where scary things happen to good people, they feel safe with me.

That is a compliment I don't take lightly.


So what does a married mother of two kids do to earn that?

I'm not special forces. I wasn't a SEAL. I didn't take ninja training at age 4. I was just a regular person doing regular things until a few years ago.

It started with a thought.

My kids trusted me to keep them safe when they were little. Most kids do. They call you when they wake up from a nightmare. They ask you to check the closet before bed. They hold your hand when they are unsure.

You are their hero. 

Their protector. Larger than life and invincible.

I wondered how long would that last? How long until they realized I was just a regular mom?

How long before they realized my yelling wasn't going to stop the very real dangers of the world?

There were really only two options. 

1. Wait for that inevitable day with trepidation and fear.

2. Make sure that day never comes.

When you see it laid out like that it isn't hard to go with choice 2.

This mama bear was going to have more than mean looks to offer should anyone try and hurt my people.

So cool. The decision is made. Get some claws and teeth.  (Metaphorically of course.)

SHIT.  Where does one even start to do that? How do I become the person that keeps others safe? If you're young enough there are some very obvious choices. Military, Police, Fire.

Although even if you are young that is more a general thing. Keeping everyone safe. Maybe you don't hear that call to be a protector of the masses. Maybe, like me, it was just those little ones that lived in the same house as you that you wanted to protect.

It being the digital age everyone's first step is the internet. Maybe you can ask Alexa?  I can only imagine that the results are more information than one person can sort through. So let's not talk about generalities. Let's talk specifics. Let's use me as a case study.

Step one.
I was not in good shape by any definition. I had spent the last ten years sitting at a desk making excuses about my "big bones" and other bullshit. I doubted I could run away from danger nevermind do anything to stop it.

So I joined a gym. It sucked. I could barely stand 20 minutes on the treadmill. I would leave a sweaty discouraged mess but I reminded myself that it didn't take 10 minutes to gain the weight and it wasn't going to take 10 minutes to lose it. Slowly, and while I was just continuing to go, changes happened.
I started taking classes and then I found weights.

Side note. I DEADLIFTED 308 POUNDS the other day. I don't say this to brag. I'm pretty sure the first time I tried deadlifting anything I was happy to break 100 pounds. Just like everything else it takes time. BUT also HELL YES!!!  #308

Step two.
I found an awesome martial arts program based on self-defense. No fancy spin kicks. Those are for stunts and the Olympics.  I wanted efficiency not flashy.

We started training in real-world scenarios right away. Things that were likely to affect my life. I LOVED EVERY MINUTE OF THE HARD WORK. I loved the training partners that left me bruised and tired, the confidence I felt when we left at the end of the night.

Step three.
Get a concealed carry permit. One class wasn't enough though. Were you a good driver after drivers ed? HELL NO. You had a basic understanding. It took years to feel comfortable. I got my ass to the range. I took classes. I PRACTICED.

As time passed I started to feel like that dreaded day when the world would make my kids feel unsafe with me might not come but I wanted more.  I wanted to be sure I was doing everything I could to be hard to kill.

It's not like I was really worried about anything happening.

We live in a safe place. We lead a regular life. We don't take unnecessary risks.

Sadly though that doesn't keep you safe. The world is changing. Or maybe it's always been this way and we are just now paying attention enough to notice? That's a debate for people a lot smarter than me.

I wasn't preparing for the inevitable I was preparing for something I hoped would never come. That's a hard concept to grasp. Why put so much effort into a thing that is probably not going to happen anyway?

Because if it does I'm going to make sure my people are protected. So if you feel safe with me it's because you ARE.

I seek out and try anything and everything I think will give me an advantage.  I am part of a growing group of people that want to protect. That want to feel safe.

SHEEPDOGS.

Maybe you've heard the adage before.





Doesn't matter what you call it.



In a few weeks, I will go to Texas to train with some like-minded people. I will make sure that I am learning everything I can from the most qualified people to make sure you always feel safe with me.




If you read this and your first thought was you want to join me then I'm going to save you the internet searches and missteps that lead to bad youtube videos.

JOIN ME


I'm serious! Sheepdog response is the best first step you can take.





So full disclosure. These amazing people have chosen to let me help them in their mission. I get to sing their praises and tell you all the reasons you should take a class. I know. That seems insane to me too but until they come to their senses I'm going to see how much good I can do.




Questions? Seriously ask me anything and I will do my best to send you in the right direction. 

100 is a big NUMBER.

You guys know I work out right? I mean I post about it non stop. Sweaty pictures. Weight totals. Calluses. All the stuff that helps you to get better, faster, stronger.

That's how it works. At least the internet would like you to beleive that.

What an awesome world it would be if that were true.

Sadly the only thing that makes you get better at anything is HARD WORK. And not just on the days when you feel like it but on the days when you're tired and really just want to hang out on the couch with your super fluffy dog.

Today's workout was 100 rep challenge. It was supposed to be 100 back squats @ 50% of your 1 RM.

I immediately thought "no thanks". Obviously, I was already there though so that wasn't really an option. I really didn't want to do it.

100 is SO MANY.

Still not an option though and since squats are the only thing I haven't been scaling thanks to the shoulder (partially torn rotator cuff, a story for another day) I really had no excuse.

So I check my notes on my phone to see what my current max is.

I guess I haven't worked up to a max in a bit because my last 1RM is my current 3RM. Based on the super high number though I wasn't really motivated to estimate any higher than necessary.

83 pounds. That is what I settled on and it seemed like a solid choice.

That was of course until I did the first 25 reps unbroken. I started to think that I had underestimated myself. A thing I am prone to do on occasion. But I was only a quarter of the way through. There was still a good chance that as I got closer to the 100 I would be happy to be done.

96 97 98 99 100

As soon as I stood on the last rep I knew I should have gone heavier but it's not like I was going to start over. That's crazy talk.

Half joking coach says "Why not just go for 200?".

hahahahah

Such a funny guy.

Except then I picked up the bar and got back to work.

200 back squats at #83.

link to post about me doing back squats last week.