The email I had been waiting for....

The most difficult struggles are often those fought in private, away from the eyes of the world. The times where discipline goes unpraised and small accomplishments are known only to yourself. That is where the hero is born. That is where she fights her demons. That is where she slays her dragons. That is where she learns who she truly is.

To briefly recap part 1 of my StrongFirst story, I sustained an injury to my left TFL about 10 days before the certification weekend. The injury was due to instability in my pelvis. Squatting or getups on the left side were not possible. So I traveled to Philly at the end of July, 2018, for the StrongFirst Kettlebell certification knowing I couldn’t test all the skills. I made it through the three days of the certification,  passing my snatch test and all the skills except squats and the TGU. For the full story of that weekend, check out my previous blog post.

 https://viewsofgratitude.blogspot.com/2018/08/my-strongfirst-weekend.html

Team Hayes at the Philadelphia SFG I....they helped me thrive
during the three day certification, despite my injuries.

The three days of the SFG were filled with a wide range of emotions: excitement, joy, happiness, frustration, anxiety, and relief. The adrenaline of being with dozens of individuals who shared the same passion for kettlebell training was intoxicating. I was surrounded by an incredible network of support and concerned peers. If a negative attitude loomed, the encouragement of my StrongFirst team would buoy me up. They helped me keep my focus and never made me feel left out when I couldn’t train a skill. The camaraderie and sense of strong community helped carry me through the difficulties. But nothing prepared me for the mental and emotional struggle that awaited me after the SFG. 

I had three months to submit videos of my Turkish Getups and my double front squats. But devising a strategy to get there was not easy. I couldn’t train anything with a backswing. I could not perform a hip bridge or any leg sweeps. If you train hardstyle kettlebells, you know that almost every skill utilizes a backswing and Turkish Getups require a hip bridge and/or a low sweep of the legs. All of the traditional kettlebell exercises were off the training list. Instead, I focused on healing the injuries and implemented gentle stretches and basic mobility work. I scheduled appointments with my physical therapist where she taught me how to realign my pelvis and gave me a series of exercises to improve its stability. That became my training.

My Team Leader, Debbie Hayes. I will
always be grateful for her support during
and after the SFG!

There were bouts of frustration when my healing did not progress as quickly as I had hoped. I am not known for my patience and the three month deadline to test my skills was always in my thoughts. Would I be ready in time? It was certainly not a guarantee.

My daily training continued in its new format and I gradually added some half-kneeling work. But a month after the SFG, I still couldn’t walk without compensating my stride. I couldn’t step up onto a street curb or climb stairs without changes in my normal movement pattern. And that was often accompanied by pain. I began to get worried. Some nights I would feel optimistic after my training, but other nights I was on the verge of tears. The physical therapy and stability work were definitely helping, but I questioned whether the improvements were happening fast enough.

My squat pattern progressed much quicker than the getups. The angry TFL calmed down greatly, but at the one month mark, I still couldn’t perform a bodyweight squat without some pain. I elevated my heels and trained supported squats. After a few session of those, I managed a decent unsupported squat with elevated heels. Over the next few weeks I was able to add an 8kg bell, then bodyweight without elevation. Gradually I added small increments of weight to my goblet squat…8kg….10kg….12kg….16kg. With just under one month before my SFG deadline, I could again squat the double 12kg bells without pain! My hopes elevated.

Nadine!!! One of the assistants on Team Hayes...
she talked me off the ledge a few times during
the certification and I thought of her words
of encouragement while impatiently working
toward completing my skills.

 

Prior to my injury, I had been doing quality 12kg and 14kg getups on a regular basis with some 16 kg getups thrown in for fun. But with a month left to achieve competency, I still couldn’t perform the low sweep or the lunge to stand without sharp pain in my left hip and pelvis. At three weeks before the testing deadline, I could finally complete a Turkish Getup on both the right and the left side, but they were unweighted. To pass my skills tests, I had to complete both sides with a 12kg kettlebell. As my body would allow, I added a bit of weight to a few of the getups. I started with an 8kg bell, the lightest I had. After a few days, those 8kg getups felt strong and smooth. I added a few with the 10kg bell. The low sweep was difficult to perform without compensation in my foot placement. And moving from lunge to stand was even more difficult and often, it was accompanied by pain. To avoid loading a dysfunctional pattern, I trained the getup from the standing position down to the floor and then moved straight to the usual start position up to lunge. Progress came….slowly. But it was progress.

Team Assistant, Jay, was an
inspiration after the certification.
I watched him via social media
as he dealt with a serious wrist injury.
 It was motivating to see him continue
to train despite the hurdle.

Now, I was two weeks away from the deadline. I mentioned to my friend, Dustin, that my progress had slowed dramatically. I explained further that my pelvis still felt very unstable and I was having some pain with certain movements.  He suggested I add heavy rack carries and marches to my training. I felt a difference after the first session. It was a dramatic improvement. 10 days away from the deadline, I did my first 12kg getups….one on the right and one on the left. But they were still not up to the standard. My pelvis did not move well enough to allow me to keep my supporting foot planted on the low sweep and I didn’t have enough stability to move smoothly from lunge to stand. 9 days out…..I made the first videos for submissions, but each one had issues. I vowed to work diligently over the next week to meet the strict StrongFirst standards.

I trained the getups daily. The squats were good to go, but the getups kept me awake at night. I visualized each step in my mind. I felt the pressure of my foot pushing into the floor, I felt the tension in my body as I moved from lunge to stand, and I felt how every stage of the getup would flow into the next and how my body would feel in each stage. I fought away panic. I refused any thoughts except those of success.

With 7 days left before the deadline, I shot the video of my double 12kg squats. Then I shot the video of the right getup. I would hone my focus on the left getup....my only remaining skill. A sharp pain still presented on the low sweep or going from lunge to stand when I used the 12kg bell. Not every time, but often enough that it caused me to be hesitant and uncertain in the movement. 

With 4 days before the deadline, I headed to the training area in my guest room to try to finish my submission videos. I performed several less than stellar left TGU’s. I became frustrated. I walked out of the training area for a few minutes. I went back and did a few lightweight swings. Then I got angry. I just got angry. So many emotions came bubbling up. No tears. No words. Just silent anger. I walked back into the training area and started the video. I took a few deep breaths....rolled over and took hold of the bell....rolled into position and pressed the bell. Then, my body and my mind flowed through each step of the TGU with intention and purpose. Every aspect of the skill fell into place. As I finished the getup, I retrieved my phone to review the video. It had felt good. Now I just needed to critique it. I scrutinized each step, checking off the standards as it progressed. At the end of the video I gave out a celebratory shout. I had done it!! I had finally performed a 12kg getup that met the standards. I was elated! 



The email I had been waiting to receive! The words
of support will always mean a lot to me. Thank you
Debbie Hayes!!

I sent in my videos and waited to hear back from my StrongFirst Team Leader, Debbie Hayes. The answer came the next morning in the form of an email with the subject line of “Congratulations.” It was official! After months of worry and  rehab, concern and healing, impatient light training, and careful progressions, I had passed my remaining skills. A flood of relief swept over me followed by excitement and personal pride.

I have to admit, it was a mental challenge to stay positive and remain calm. At the SFG there were other people there to encourage and support me. Back at home, I had to manage my attitude and emotions by myself and for myself. I was flying solo. But, I learned a lot during that time. No camaraderie, no community, no coaching……just me putting in the work. There was nobody to impress, nobody to make me do what I should do, nobody to give me praise or reward. Often my training in solitude felt lonely. Other times it felt powerful. Some days....many days.... it was both.


The email reporting my success in meeting
the requirements to StrongFirst. More
greatly appreciated feedback.

But those three months changed my attitude about my training. I am more in tune with my body and my brain. I am in the driver’s seat with my training and it feels powerful to train intuitively. I am sometimes tempted to compare my current level of strength and conditioning to earlier times, but only briefly. Now, I appreciate everything that my body and my mind can do on a daily basis….right now….today. I understand what I am capable of more than anyone else….I know how a movement feels in my body….I interpret what causes positive outcomes and what needs to be questioned. I am continuing to move forward to greater strength, more agile movement, and enhanced health in a gradual, progressive manner. I am giving my body what it needs to heal and ultimately thrive.  And I am enjoying the journey.


Postscript: I have been waiting to receive my official SFG I certificate in the mail so I could add a photo of it to this post. However, there has been a glitch in the process and it hasn’t arrived yet. In the meantime, I completed 2,150 swings this past weekend with a 12 kg bell. It was for a Swing-A-Thon for Dustin Rippetoe, who is in need of a kidney transplant. I am happy to say that my body felt great with the low weight bell and high volume of swings. I have added 16 kg bells back into my training and my swings are solid with my 32 kg bell. The stability is improving and the strength is returning. I am grateful…..still a bit impatient....but incredibly grateful!

 

 

 

 

Child of my Child

Child of my child..... you bring about a flood of wonderful memories. For when I look into your eyes, the deep brown eyes of your mother are reflected back to me. You are her child.... you have her eyes.... you have her logical sense of reasoning.... and when you throw your arms around my neck in a hug, I remember the childhood hugs of your mother. You remind me that these times are precious. All time is precious. That each moment is priceless. 

We played some wicked games of Cootie!

The past 9 days have been filled with more laughter than I ever imagined. The rooms of my home are strewn with tiny shoes and socks turned inside out in little balls of fabric. Hot Wheels cars and monster trucks have raced and crashed on the coffee table where they keep company with my fall decorations. And a variety of games are stacked in the corner of the living room. Thinking back on the events of your stay makes me smile.

You taught me how to duel with empty Sprite bottles...... swords in your imagination. We fought fiercely for bragging rights and candy corn. You twirled about in seemingly random ninja moves. And we laughed hard as you disarmed me and threw your arms up into the air, yelling, "I win!"

A finished game of Blokus!

We played Triominos, Count Your Chickens, Cootie, and Connect Four. I loved watching you think through the process of placing the playing piece in the game of Blokus. Your little fingers would turn and rotate the irregularly shaped pieces until you found a place where it fit. And again, you would throw your hands up in the air and cheer. You were proud of yourself....I was proud of you.

You love to play Rock, Paper, Scissors and your eyes sparkled as we pound our fists into our open palms. We play to determine who gets the first turn in the games we play. I had an advantage because you haven't quite mastered making the symbol for scissors and your tiny hands repeatedly made the shape of paper or rock. But I continued to shape my hand for rock or paper, only forming the shape of scissors occasionally. When your "paper" covered my "rock" you would put your hand over mine and squeal with excitement at "going first" in whatever game we were playing.

Loving on Sophie!

You are kind and tender-hearted. You get excited when the cats lay on your lap or jump up next to you on the couch. You have learned to gently smooth their coats with your little hands and to remain calm when they are around. They have come to love you.
You make friends with everyone..... the staff at my workplace, the kids at the new Mother's Day Out, children at the dinosaur museum. (That is a trait of your father.) I hope you never lose that desire to connect with others.

Child of my child.....You raced me everywhere we went. Yes.... everywhere. To the pickup.... to the front door.... to the kitchen.... to the bedroom.... to the bathroom.... to the barn.....EVERYWHERE!!!!

I listened to hours of Disney Silly Songs over the past 9 days. But I fully realize that one day you will climb into my vehicle and not ask to listen to The Pizza Song. And that will be a very sad day. So we listen and sing along to The Pizza Song, I'm My Own Grandpa, The Peanut Song, and many others. I add emphasis to the silliness of the lyrics with my own exaggerations of voice and gestures. You laugh....I laugh..... we laugh. I never want that to stop.

Volunteering for the dinosaur program.

I love your imagination and creativity! After all, you invented the Gingerbread Man and Old Woman game. I couldn't help but laugh as you and I swapped roles. One of us would be the Gingerbread Man and run away through the house. The other would be the Old Woman and come chasing after. We added little bits and pieces over time. A cane for the Old Woman and specific actions for the Gingerbread Man. It was a wonderful way to spend a morning.

You are fiercely independent, yet so vulnerable that it breaks my heart. You march off to "your room" to take a nap without any assistance from me. You are a follower of rules, just like your mother. You keep everyone in line. You even informed me that certain movies for children are for kids six and a half years old or older. (They really aren't.) You wouldn't let me rent those movies.

One evening you asked me if I had ever gone to Paris. (The characters in the TV show were in Paris.) I said I had never been to Paris, but I would love to go someday. I asked you if you wanted to go to Paris and you said, "Yes", then added that we should go the day after tomorrow. When I asked if you had a passport, you said, "I don't think so, but I think my Daddy does." We agreed we would go to Paris someday, but probably not the day after tomorrow.

As I held you one afternoon, you slept deeply, cradled against me. Your little legs spilled beyond my lap and I watched as your long, dark eyelashes fluttered against your blushed cheeks. I had seen similar lashes against similar skin many years ago. The thought made me catch my breath. Where have the years gone?

 Child of my child...... you have no idea how my heart leaps when you throw your arms around my neck and say, "I wub you!" Yesterday, as we were eating lunch, you said something quite perceptive. You nonchalantly stated, "Nana, you are going to miss me a lot when I go home." Yes, Jaxon, you are correct.

60 by 60

It is easy to let life become mundane. The daily tasks and necessary duties of living can numb our sense of a purposeful existence. We can find ourselves on autopilot. After falling prey to this mindset for many years, I now make conscious efforts to structure my life with intention and purpose.

Recently, a friend and client, Julie Milligan, mentioned to me that she was working her way through a list she called, 40 Before 40. It is a list of 40 things she wants to accomplish before she turns 40 years of age. We discussed many of the things on her list and I became inspired to create my own list. Since I am many years past the age of 40, I decided to create my 60 by 60 list. I started checking things off the list in September 2018. My plan is to blog monthly about what has been ticked off the list.

The list includes many one-time events and several accomplishments that will require months of focus and dedication. It is divided into the following categories: Writing, Physical Training, Hiking, Cooking, Home, Relationships, Trips and Travel, Creative Outlets, and Personal Growth. When I started brainstorming the list, I thought 60 would be difficult to reach. But I have had to whittle the list several times. My list would look very different if finances and time weren't limiting factors. But, having some limitations encourages a unique alchemy of reality and creativity.

The office at Mary's Swap Meet.

We lost my dad to cancer of the esophagus over 14 years ago. He used to raise a wide variety of birds including chickens, peafowl, geese, ducks, and turkeys. When they were ready to sell, he often took them to Mary's Swap Meet in Oklahoma City. I remember him telling very colorful stories of Mary's (as he called it). He mentioned the diverse groups of people that he would meet and the interesting things he would see for sale. I never had the chance to go to Mary's Swap Meet with my dad and was curious to see it for myself. So as one of my September 60 by 60 items, I went to Mary's with my sister, Barbra.

One row of the many rows of booths at Mary's.

I don't know if it met my expectations since I didn't really have any, but it was definitely a unique and lively experience. Some of the booths are permanent, but many vendors set up temporary booths on the day of the sale. My first impression was one of a refugee camp because of the mismatched materials used to construct some of the booths. We arrived around noon and found everything from massive copper cooking pots to used shoes and clothing for children. Couples and families with small children milled about. Many people were enjoying snacks as they roamed among the stalls. Some enjoyed the pony rides while others rested in the shade. Lively music filled the air and added another sensory dimension to the atmosphere of the day.

The livestock area at Mary's Swap Meet.

We roamed through used books, saddles and tack, beautiful glassware, tables of shampoo and personal care items, and a table of really cool brass knuckles. There was so much to see. Then we found the area for selling livestock and birds. This is where my dad would have set up his birds. The theme of diversity continued in this area as well. There were turkeys, quail, chickens, ducks, piglets, goats, and a few ponies. This was why I had come. This was what I needed to see. The sounds of the different species joined together into an interesting symphony of clucks, oinks, neighs, and turkey gobbles. We weren't there long, about 45 minutes. But it was long enough to satisfy the need I had to connect with my dad's memory. "Check"......I could mark "attend Mary's Swap Meet" off my list.

The oat scones....ready to be put on the
baking sheet and placed in the oven.

Another activity planned for September was to make a recipe out of a cookbook I own, but have never used. I selected the Outlander Cookbook and chose  a recipe for Oatmeal Scones. I baked them at my daughter, Kathryn's home. I miss having someone to cook for and with, so it was nice to prepare the scones for her family. I served them with butter and strawberry jam and they were a hit. Another item marked off the list.

Tucker's in Oklahoma City.

Other things marked off the list in September: Write letters of appreciation to my family and friends - sent one of these and have more planned for the future. Eat at a new restaurant - ate at Tucker's in Oklahoma City. Leave 2 letters of encouragement for strangers.

My meal at Tucker's: chicken sandwich
and fries. It was excellent!

And....I worked on the following items which will take consistent effort and focus: established a focused writing practice to finish my book, registered for a mace training in October, registered for a car maintenance class in November, worked on establishing a movement practice, continued physical therapy to enable me to train for some specific kettlebell goals, practiced Scottish Gaelic words (goal is to learn 30 words and this is proving to be quite difficult), and read part of "Wilderness Essays" by John Muir.

This process helps me keep what is important at the top of my "to-do" list. It brings another level of intention and focus to my life on a daily basis. And I am having a lot of fun! And....what is life if you aren't having a little fun!

My StrongFirst Weekend



SFG I, Philadelphia 2018

Most accomplishments require focus, sacrifice and discipline. But, even with those things in place, accomplishments are not guaranteed. I recently attended an SFG I weekend in pursuit of my StrongFirst kettlebell instructor certification. To pass the SFG I, I would be required to prove competency in the following skills with a 12 kg (26.4#) kettlebell: double cleans (5), press (5:5), snatch (5:5), one-arm swing (10:10), double front squat (5), and getup (1:1). In addition to the six skills, I would need to complete a 5-minute snatch test by completed 100 reps during the allotted five minutes.
 

I visualized myself walking in and doing what I know to do…..in my mind's eye, I saw myself owning every single skill and conquering the snatch test with ease. But that wasn’t going to be possible. The nine months leading up to the certification were riddled with obstacles: a separated shoulder, a floating fibula, esophagus inflammation, high personal stress, and PTSD triggers at work which spilled over into every other aspect of my life. Then, with  just two weeks to go, I pulled my TFL and quad due to a pelvic stability issue. As if that wasn't enough, six days before I was to fly to Philadelphia, a severe case of poison ivy on my feet that kept me from training. Even though I had trained consistently, I hadn’t been able to follow the training program as I had planned and doubt began to creep in.  

"It's okay to be discouraged. It's not okay to quit. To know you want to quit but to plant your feet and keep inching closer until you take the impenetrable fortress you've decided to lay siege to in your own life - that's persistence." ~ Ryan Holiday, The Obstacle is the Way

I knew that I would not be able to test the left getup or the squats. The TFL/quad injury was not healed completely. But, I had assessed the remaining four skills and knew I could test them. Plus, I had successfully completed a snatch test just two weeks prior. So……my plan going into the weekend, was to perform the technique tests for the snatch, one-arm swing, press, and clean. I also planned to complete the 5-minute snatch test.

If I couldn’t test all six skills, I wouldn’t receive my certification at the end of the weekend. If I passed four skills, I would be allowed to send in videos of the remaining skills within three months. If I didn't pass all six skills, did that mean I wasn't successful? Did that diminish the significance of the weekend? I knew I needed to redefine the meaning of “success” in regards to the SFG. What would success look like for me since I couldn’t test or pass all my skills? My measure of success became focused around my attitude and how much I could learn. It included my ability to stay in the present moment and focus on the things within my control.

I am so blessed to know these strong women!
Debbie, my team leader, and team
assistants, Alanna, and Nadine.

I started out strong on day one. We practiced deadlifts and swings. My body felt a little tight from the previous days flights, but nothing that would raise concern. Then on a simple drill, I felt a pop in my right hip and hamstring. And just like that, I couldn't perform a basic hinge, which is the foundation of every skill. I felt deflated for a bit, but realized that this was my opportunity to practice everything I believed. "Breathe....stay in the moment....adjust and adapt to whatever happens." The success of the weekend depended on my attitude in that moment.

 

"Failure really can be an asset if what you're trying to do is improve, learn, or do something new." ~ Ryan Holiday, The Obstacle is the Way

Team Hayes!


Since I couldn't physically participate, I became a focused observer. I learned new coaching skills and cues by watching the other participants and assistants. This truly was an advantage in many ways. I focused on learning as much as I could, even though I wasn’t actually training. I had to push the disappointment out of my mind: the hours of training….the money spent on the certification, airline tickets, hotel reservations...plus other training and travel expenses. I had to focus on the things I could control….. good nutrition, quality self-care, a positive attitude, and a clear perspective. That night I walked, reached out to my support team in Oklahoma, took some Advil, drank tons of water, fueled my body with good food and got nine hours of solid sleep.



Saturday morning, I could hip hinge without pain and I decided to train with my group using a slightly lighter kettlebell. As long as I controlled the power and depth of my backswing, and focused on glute activation…..I could swing a kettlebell without pain! I had a glimmer of hope for training the rest of the day. I trained the press and the snatch successfully. I was becoming more hopeful for testing four skills and completing the snatch test as I originally planned. The team assistants gave positive feedback on my four testable skills and I ended the day feeling optimistic.

I spent some time Saturday evening visualizing each skill. I gave extra focus to the biomechanical breathing match of each one.  I woke up Sunday morning feeling calm and prepared. I was ready. We had a team practice and then the skills testing began. I performed the four skills I could physically test and felt good about my performance. I knew my cleans could have been a bit more smooth, but the other three felt solid.

It was time for the snatch test. I had successfully completed the test three times in my training and had developed a strategy that changed my approach to the test. In my mind, it wasn’t 100 reps, it was 5 sets....just 5 sets. Ten reps on the right and ten reps on the left was one set. I would finish three sets…..rest…..then finish the two final sets. That was how I had practiced the test and that would be my strategy for the SFG snatch test as well. I asked to go first in my group because I was ready to finally get this done.

We lined up behind our bells. They announced, “hands on bell…..3….2….1” and I hiked my bell along with dozens of my kettlebell peers. Ten right….ten left….20 reps completed. Brandon, the StrongFirst assistant monitoring my test, announced my count after each ten reps. I remember him leaning in with each announcement. Ten right….ten left….40 reps completed. Ten right….ten left……60 reps completed. I set the bell down. I took a drink of water and wiped my face. As I approached the kettlebell, I heard Brandon say, “Let’s finish this, Beth”. I believe I responded with, “I am going to”. I began again…..barely aware of anything going on around me. Ten right….ten left….80 reps completed. Seven right…..I hear the announcement of 1 minute remaining….three more right…..ten left…..Brandon announced that I was done!! He gave me a high five. I gathered up my towel and water bottle and walked through the other SFG candidates to the back of the gym. I had done it! I didn’t think about my time…..I just knew I had done the job I set out to do. While I don’t know my exact time, I know that I had 13 reps remaining at the top of the last minute. That makes me think I had 20-25 seconds left when I hit the 100 rep mark. Definitely my best time on a 5 minute snatch test! To be honest, I didn't give my finish time a second thought until I met with my Team Leader and Team Assistants. Several of them made comments about how strongly I finished the test. I will always take the word "Beast" as a compliment! It wasn't until that moment that I got excited about my time.  

The card my daughter gave me
prior to catching my flight to
Philadelphia.

Just as it takes a village to raise a child, it took a team to get me to and through the SFG weekend. My daughters and their families surrounded me with their unwavering support. They tolerated me dragging kettlebells on vacation and “getting my training in” while they were visiting for the weekend. They sent me cards and texts of support during the SFG weekend.

My first strength coach and friend, Joey Johnsonbaugh, who taught me how to “get my mind right”. He made me mentally tough during workouts and taught me how to just focus on the current rep. I definitely pulled from my training with Joey during the snatch test.

My friend and strength coach, Dustin. My
preparation was a direct result of his knowledge.



My kettlebell coach and friend, SFG Team Leader, Dustin Rippetoe, who gave me a solid foundation of Russian hardstyle kettlebell techniques and taught me to “stick to my game plan” regardless of what is going on around me.

My friend, Mark Gorman, who routinely shares how he sees me…..as strong, capable, and resilient.  And he reminds me often that there is more than one kind of strength. 

More Team Hayes' top notch assistants!
Brandon, Mike, James, and Ross

My SFG Team Leader, Debbie Hayes, and the fantastic team assistants, who supported me through the weekend, helping keep my attitude positive and my injury in check. They showed sincere concern for me and never made me feel like I needed to do something that would cause further harm. They focused on my strengths and capabilities, rather than the skills that my injury prevented.


My fellow SFG candidates also showed support and understanding. Special thanks to Anne Kirk who assisted me through some exercises to help with my injury. I am not sure I could have tested out on Sunday without her help.

The weekend ended with a group celebration of swings, presses, cleans, and squats…..all in unison. The energy in that facility was like nothing I have felt before. It is something I will always cherish as one of my most powerful experiences.


Did I walk out on Sunday with my instructor certificate? No, I did not. Was the weekend a success? Absolutely! I affirmed so much within myself. Can I pass the remaining two skills? Yes! I am currently working to heal my injury and will then shift my focus onto the two remaining skills: the double squat and the getups. I will send in the videos, receive my certification, and proudly begin my journey as a StrongFirst Kettlebell Instructor.

The SFG weekend was about so much more than cleans, swings, and presses. It was about joining a powerful brotherhood and sisterhood of strength. It was about digging deep within to find my own inner strength. It was about perspective and priorities. It was about remaining true to myself. It was life-changing. It was a great test of who I am, and I am pleased.

"Each time, you'll learn something. Each time, you'll develop strength, wisdom, and perspective. Each time, a little more of the competition falls away. Until all that is left is you: the best version of you." ~ Ryan Holiday, The Obstacle is the Way

Phil Scarito, StrongFirst Master Trainer

 

The Gifts of my Father

Today is my dad's birthday and the awareness of that fact confronted me immediately upon waking. It is easy to fall into negative thinking on such a day. It is easy, and quite expected, to ponder all the "what ifs". In past years, I focused on all the birthdays, weddings, graduations, births, and other life changes that we have navigated without him. But this year....on his day....I am choosing a different approach. Today, I will celebrate Daddy and his birthday by considering the things he gave me before he passed. Today I acknowledge the gifts of my father.

I made the decision to change my focus a few days ago. I also decided to continue a tradition that I started the first year after his death. My dad used to surprise my family with chocolate long john doughnuts from Daylight Donuts. In honor of that kind gesture, I made a trip to Grace Hill Cemetery this morning. I sat on the south side of my dad's headstone and enjoyed the sweet, chocolatey goodness of a long john, washing it down with a carton of milk. I laid my head back against the smooth, cold granite and closed my eyes. The brisk fall breeze chilled me, but I couldn't bring myself to leave. I was flooded with gratitude for this man. The man who taught me to stand up for myself as young woman. The man who gave me the confidence to be myself.....to think for myself....to not be afraid to live my life "against the societal grain". He taught me to be strong, yet respectful. He taught me to work hard and to not make excuses.

I think my dad would be extremely proud of me for the way I am living my life. My father instilled in me a strong work ethic. He was the first person in his family to obtain a Masters Degree and proved many people wrong with a successful career in OSU Cooperative Extension. He hitchhiked from Nardin, Oklahoma to Stillwater to complete his bachelor's degree....definitely working against the odds. He taught me to give my best effort in my endeavors....to go beyond the expectations.....to work for what I want.

My dad gave me the nickname "baby bull" when I was about 4 years old. I remember him teasing me about being stubborn and I would lower my head and run into him as hard as I could. He would throw his head back and laugh. The gift of a wonderful memory of fun with my dad.

My dad gave me an appreciation for nature.....for the call of the dove....for the antics of the raccoons at the bird feeder....for the earthy smell after a rain...for the glory of a sunrise. I feel his presence in nature.

He gave me and my daughters the gift of love. There was never a doubt about his love. Being a parent is hard. It is possibly the hardest job possible. My father was certainly not perfect, but I have learned from my own journey of parenthood, that he did the best he could. And he always had my best interest at heart.

The gifts of my father are not gifts you can buy. The gifts of my father are priceless, seemingly unending, and definitely ever-lasting. There is so much more that I could write about my dad, but I will end with this......

Miss you Daddy.....love you always....

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The Summer of Henry



A young, healthy Henry.

Summer…..the word conjures up different images for each individual. For me, the word “summer” often brings back sweet memories of a black and white cat named Henry.

Henry was born into a rainbow litter of kittens in 1999.  No two looked alike. At the time, I was living east of Perry with my husband and two daughters. Most of Henry’s littermates remained distant, but Henry always loved human attention, especially my attention. His full name was Henry Bodine and as a young cat he kept me company while I read and studied in the backyard.

Henry was a gentle spirit with the most docile eyes. He had a pronounced overbite that emphasized the little fang on the left side of his mouth. I often called him my little Pirate cat, because an infection, early in his life, had caused his front leg to grow crooked. It made him walk with a limp and he reminded me of a peg-legged Pirate. Henry was an outside cat, since indoor pets were not tolerated by my husband.  But Henry would try to sneak inside the house.  He acted as if he belonged inside with the family…with me.

I left the house east of Perry in the winter of 2010. At the time, I had every intention of going back within a few days to get Henry and bring him to the little yellow house where I had found my refuge. He was going to be part of my comfort and help me deal with the grief of losing my old home and old relationship.  He would be a great friend for Jennie, the black Labrador retriever.  But I soon became fearful about bringing him.  Was it fair to move him to an environment that he did not know?  An environment where coyotes and feral tomcats were often present?  For many reasons I won’t mention here, Henry stayed at my former house. I knew he was being fed and cared for on a regular basis.

Several years passed before Henry and I were reunited in March of 2014.  I had gone to my former home in November of the previous year to get more of my personal belongings and Henry seemed fine.  Older and thinner, but rather healthy for his age.  It was good to see him. He seemed content even though he was distant and refused to let me pick him up. But when I went back in March to get the remainder of my things, Henry came running to me.  He made a little sound….a half meow….a pre-purr.  He came across the carport making that sound, calling to me.  He was terribly thin and the end of his right ear was missing. I suspected it had been lost in a fight or an accident.  Henry begged for me to pick him up. When I did, I could feel his bones protruding prominently against my hands. He seemed hungry and when I put dry food out in his dish he struggled to eat.  I found a can of salmon, opened it, and placed it in his dish.  He licked up the juice quickly and ate some of the meat.  He tried to come inside the house several times as I loaded items into the car. Then, I caught him trying to get in the car.  He wanted to go with me.

After that day, I couldn’t stop thinking about Henry….about how he must feel abandoned.  So….two days later I went back to get him.  I got out of the car and called for him.  At first there was no response, but then I heard his familiar meow.  I looked toward the barn and there came Henry….hobbling along on his crooked leg.  I gathered him up, put him in the pet carrier, and started our journey to the little yellow house where he would live out his days.  

I brought Henry home and put him in the sun room.  The vet suggested keeping him away from my other cats, so he couldn't be in the main part of the house. He was curious about his new surroundings and seemed grateful that he didn’t have to find a warm place to sleep outside….no freezing temperatures, no worrying about predators, no searching for food to eat, no hungry tummy, no thirsty throat…..all his needs met. The first night he slept on a log of firewood in the sunroom. It took him a couple of days to realize that the futon or the chair were much more comfortable.

Henry’s health was not as good as it appeared when I brought him home. He had a bladder infection ….then his allergies caused him to pull the hair out on his back….then his crooked paw got infected….then his ear got infected.  He was on medicine for about a month and I soaked his paw in Epsom saltwater twice a day.  He got addicted to his pain medicine and had to go through withdrawals. He was a picky eater and I bought dozens of gourmet foods to try to tempt him. All the effort was worth it! Eventually, his health returned and his coat was once again shiny and smooth. The only remaining issue was his ear.

A few months later, his ear began to bleed more often. It was getting smaller and the edge would actually break off. My local veterinarian diagnosed the problem. Henry had cancer. What I had suspected was an injury from a fight or accident, was actually cancer. And the cancer was literally eating away his ear. Dr. Dormire told me that the cancer would continue to devour Henry’s ear, but that he wasn’t currently in any pain. She said he might have a few weeks or a few months left, depending on the rate that the cancer spread. Surgery wasn’t a viable option because of his age and his health history, so I took Henry home and decided that I would do everything I could to keep him happy and healthy for the remainder of his life.

He was so affectionate.  There was no evidence that he had been an outside cat that wouldn’t let me hold him. He let me pick him up without fear or concern no matter where we were.  When I would sit on the patio, he would lay down and reach his paw out to touch my hand and he loved to run his head up under my chin.

I slept in the sun room a couple of nights a week when I brought him home.  He would climb up on me before I could even get the covers situated.  He liked to lay on my shoulder, close to my face and often I would feel his paw touching my cheek. As the cancer took its toll, he lost control of his bladder and his ear bled more often. At that point, I couldn’t sleep with him. The last time I tried, he had a difficult time climbing on the futon, much less up on me.  He was unsteady and seemed unsure and didn’t relax.  Eventually he stopped sleeping on the futon and I placed an old quilt on the floor for him.  He used it for a few days, but he decided that the folded rug suited him better.  It was right by the back door of the sunroom and he seemed most comfortable in that spot.

We transitioned to the two of us spending many hours outside each day. We would sit on the porch every morning for about an hour. Henry would snuggled on my lap after I ate my breakfast or would lay in the morning sun while I read. In the evenings, he would follow me around the yard while I worked or he would climb up on my lap while I watched the sunset. But weekends were the best! I would lay a quilt down under a shade tree, add a couple of pillows, and we would nap. Often I would write or read and Henry would sleep on the quilt or in the grass nearby. Hot weather didn’t bother him and I came to tolerate it.  Often we would spend all day outside.

When the weather was cold or rainy, I would read or watch movies while Henry snuggled up on my lap in the sunroom.  We had great times together.  I started leaving Henry outside during the day, even when I wasn’t at home. He was obviously happier being outside and he never strayed out of the yard. When I drove in the driveway, Henry would come walking or running toward my car, his front leg stiff and contorted as he moved….my little Pirate cat. 

One morning, Henry was sitting on my lap on the front porch. He seemed restless, like he couldn’t get comfortable.  I started playing some Reiki and Meditation music on my phone.  It was amazing….his breathing slowed and became very consistent. He calmed down and laid across my lap where he fell asleep.  Henry stayed in a deep, relaxed sleep for about 30 minutes. It was a beautiful thing to witness. 

As the weeks passed, his health continued to decline.  The cancer had reduced his ear to about a quarter of its original size and his appetite was greatly diminished and we made regular trips to the veterinarian for cortisone shots. On one trip to the vet, I put my fingers through the wire of the carrier door.  He nuzzled my fingers with his head then brought his paw up and wrapped it around my fingers.  

I had taken Henry in for a cortisone shot on a hot August afternoon. He was obviously not doing well and was in pain.  Dr. Dormire was concerned because Henry had lost so much muscle mass she had a hard time giving him the shot. That evening Henry was restless and couldn’t find a way to be comfortable.  He would lay in the grass for a few minutes, then get up and change positions.  He didn’t want to be on me, which was not usual. I could tell he didn’t feel well.  As we sat outside on the back patio watching the sunset, the evening sky filled with dragonflies!  They dove and darted through the air. I believe they were there to tell both of us that it was time.  They were encouraging Henry to shed his earthly body and to be free.  I made the decision that evening to take him to the vet the next morning. 

 With the arrival of the next day, Henry seemed better. But, he seemed desperate for me.  He ate, but still not enough to sustain him.   He wanted to be held, but would run quickly for a drink of water every 5-10 minutes.  Then he would run back to get on my lap again.  It was as if he needed reassurance or comforting.  On the ride to the vet, he meowed a lot and kept bumping my hand with his head.  When we arrived at the vet clinic waiting room, he wanted out of the carrier.  I took him out and he crawled up on my shoulder and nuzzled me with his head.  I think he was consoling me.  He was making sure I knew he loved me, but I think he was ready to leave the pain behind.   

I left on a scheduled trip the day I took Henry to the vet for the last time. I was devastated and cried much of the drive to Austin. I dreaded going home the following Sunday. I dreaded driving up to the house for the first time. I dreaded dealing with all of the reminders of Henry. I made it home and began to cry as I drove up to the house. After unloading my luggage, I walked outside and sat on the back patio…..the exact place that Henry and I had spent many hours watching the sunsets. I looked up and demanded a sign….any type of sign that Henry was okay….that I would be okay. Within minutes of making my demand, a lone dragonfly flew in circles around my head then hovered in front of me, just slightly higher than my head. It stayed there for about 10 seconds, then flew away. It was my sign!

I am so grateful for the months I had with Henry.  He showed me unconditional love.  He taught me about compassion and dedication.  Henry taught me to value each and every day….to look for the little details in life….to slow down and pay attention. His last days were filled with intense emotions….regret, sorrow, grief, happiness, joy, fear, but mostly love.  These weren’t his emotions.  I have no way of knowing what he felt or knew about what was happening.  The emotions were mine. 

I had Henry cremated.  His ashes are in a small oak box that sits on the bookcase in my bedroom. A picture of him in his younger, healthier years leans lazily against the box. The inscription on the box says, “Henry…my sweet, sweet boy”.