Lessons from a hotel chair.

 Wrapping up another trip to Denver for the Colorado Scottish Games....Getting our powdered egg and funky waffles at the Hyatt Place.  We are sitting close to the bar....as people are coming through to get to the breakfast area and someone knocks into a chair that was left slightly into the pathway.

 They look at the chair and keep walking.  The chair is not slightly further in the way.

Another person is walking toward breakfast and...bam...hits their elbow. Looks at the chair....and walks on.

And a third. 

Yes....a third person....same same.....

 

Seems so odd to me.  I suddenly think...seems so american to me.   Like...this thing hurt me because I slammed into it....but fuck anyone behind me, they can slam the hell into it too.  

 

I know, I know, probably not exclusively and american way of seeing things...but this is the water I swim in so that's where I am going with it. God forbid we make the world better or an experience better for the people coming up behind us. 

"If I had to blah blah blah....they can do it too."

 Yawn.

Listen....for an example...I had student loans, I had a huge parent loan, I paid them both off.  Guess what?

I'm all for forgiveness of student loans cause that shit is predatory. 

High property taxes to fund schools...do it.  I'm happy to pay for that shit.  Makes us all better when we have an educated population. 

So, I pushed that chair in before we left the breakfast area.

Simple... 

 

I wanted my kids to have a better world than I had...Sadly...yeah...too many chairs left in the pathway.

That’s on me….

 I set this up after all. 

I’m not a huge fan of the thinking that we “train” people how to treat us. It feels a lot like victim blaming in certain kinds of situations. 

But……..

I’m smack dab in the middle of something that really fits the bill…. I really did set this up. 

Last weekend in Pleasanton I noticed something. And /or I’m totally projecting. Either way the thoughts are the same. 

This is a super supportive sport, so much so, that people are always chatting about form, or tips or training issues.  It is great, especially for someone like me, who was not an athlete when I was young.  I came to this stuff late in life.  My friend Lisa used to say we had "adult onset athletic disorder."  I realized something at the game.  I wasn't having these conversations. In fact, I don't think I've been party to these kinds of conversations in quite some time.  

I just really noticed it that weekend.  Like I'd be chatting with another athlete and it's all good stuff, fun things, talking about games that are coming up, or questions about the game in Albuquerque,  and as I would move on; I'd hear snippets of the conversation starting up with the next person.  Generally it was training or form or other kinds of details.

I know how I sound....I don't mean too, but I just struck me in that moment.  Then I saw the posts,  all the videos, all the photos.  

Oh.  

Well...I see it now.  I rarely video, I generally only get photos of throws if other people take them, I basically never post videos of me throwing. I do however, post photos of me being, well, me....a fucking goofball.  

Case in point....the start of the day in Pleasanton, I am helping out judge plant the field record markers...and, well.....you can see for yourself.   

Clearly a serious athlete here....I do think it is funny and was happy Katy captured this video.  But, back to the first point I was making....I  am putting things out there that make me seem completely un~serious, so other folks on the field have no reason to think I am serious. 

During this game, I was testing out my injured hip; I was scared to throw, but I still broke two field records. Last weekend in Estes, I had two season's bests...

I do like talking training, I really do take this seriously, regardless of how I look.  Or my age.  Or the weird joy I always seem to lean into.

So what is my point?  I don't know.

Why is this bugging me a little right now?  I don't know. 

Perhaps some of it is that thing that happens as we age, the invisibility that shows up.   

Will I start posting training or throwing videos? Probably not....so I guess...I just gotta get over myself. 

Take my training as seriously as I care to and lean in to as much joy as I can experience these days and let go of what other people talk about or how they see me....oh....I know.  It has just been a challenge recently.

I'll keep trying. 

And I'll just keep being myself.

Some churchy observations.

 We were super lucky this year; after we were in Norway, we were able to spend three days in Edinburgh.

Boy oh boy we did the full on touristy stuff.  Stayed about 5 minutes from the castle. It is much like any other touristy place...Old Town in ABQ, The Dells in Wisconsin.  You get the picture.

The first afternoon there we dip into St. Giles Cathedral.  Lucky for me, it is a cathedral that allows photography...some don't....bugs me that even when it is clearly posted, that some folks with take photos regardless. But that's a thought for another day. 

So, as I do, I am just falling for the very particular style in this cathedral.  It has some of the flourish, but it feels more grounded...heavier than some cathedrals.   Made sense to my senses....seems to match that Scottish sensibility.

Then I start looking at details.  Details in the art work.  

I mean....the specificity of place in these places is very apparent. And, yes, I am well aware of why this is...the colonization of beliefs and motif in order to keep the people in line...to keep them coming to something that "feels" familiar.

Then.....I got sad.  So so fucking sad.

 All this beauty, all this art work, all this attention, and money.  

All of it had been and is still being used to "keep people in line."  It has been used to justify wars and genocide...it still is.

Just so sad.

Made me wonder what Christ would think of bringing people into a space to make them feel a sense of awe and wonder only to use that power to keep people on their knees. 

 

Then a few days after we got home from Scotland...I came up to a church in Santa Fe, not the cathedral, but Santa Maria de la Paz.  Came up for my mother's rosary and funeral mass.  

Been a LONG time since I sat through a rosary.  Like....a full rosary....like almost an hour.  And there too, I was struck by the architecture of this particular church.  The New Mexico of it all.  The beautiful, yet simple, details.  

I did NOT take these photos...I snagged them off the church website.  

 But, very New Mexican...I sat and listened to the rosary.  More striking to me, was who was reciting it.  It was a group of men from the Knights of Columbus, probably six or so of them.  Maybe they knew my mother, maybe not. But I was struck by their dedication. Even more since they probably didn't know her.  I may not believe in what they do, but there they were...a mostly rote reciting of the rosary in service.

In service to their faith.

In service of my mother's soul.

I don't have to believe or agree with them at all in order to appreciate their dedication.  

I was also struck by how much contemporary Christianity has essentially removed the magic and power from Mary, from the divine mother figure. Here were these six old dudes reminding us and themselves that:

"Mary is both a sign of what heaven holds for us and also a Mother to help us get there...Mary is not only Mother but Queen of the universe.....we consecrate ourselves to her and ask her help in doing whatever Jesus tells us."

Powerful divine feminine stuff going on in that prayer. 

Kinda sad it has been stripped from churches....well, it's not like any of these churches treat women in a divine way...but heck, it is still there in theory. 

After the Rosary, was the Mass...Emery enjoyed the Mass in a similar way that I enjoyed the rosary. The priest seemed more open than many preachers these days.  Speaking about "all" paths...I think the prior pope and current pope have a lot to do with that.   

I am grateful my sister moved the date of the Mass for our return.  I am glad we were there. It was a little odd; people coming up and shaking hands and offering to pray for us, but lovely too.  They don't know, nor do they need to know of the complicated nature of things in our family.  Or maybe they do know, because it is the same for them.

It is all just a shared moment.

It is all some sort of divine feminine.

It is all some sort of transition.

It is all some sort of loss.

It is all some sort of new beginning.   

Oooops, I did it again.

 At the gym yesterday, wrapping up my little bitty front squats, when I became aware of some things I have started saying to myself again.

 

The dreaded "for a...." has wormed it's way back into my training and into my brain.

Crap,  I thought I had put that behind me, but I realized today that it has crept back in.

This constant dismissing of myself, of any skills I have; by adding the phrase, 'for a'....to it.  The place it has really roared back is in throwing.  I think because of the lack of training this winter, along with the recent injury, and the worsening neck issues...I am dismissing myself before I can even start.

 I KNOW I am aging and I KNOW those changes are real.  I don't believe that "age is just a number" because things fucking change...and they are supposed to....but...the tone I am taking with my own little brain has become destructive and in some weird way, jealous too?

I have been caught up in focusing on outside validation or in comparison...oh...there is the issue. 

Am I right?

Yes, I am right.

When I had a moment at Fefor this month, I went up to Nick and thanked him for telling me that I was stronger than I really knew last year.  That his words had pushed me to, at the ripe old age of 57, pull a PR on a dead lift of 440. I looked him dead in the face and said, "not too bad for an old lady ."

Even though I was thanking him for what he said last year....Like totally tone deaf Mona... I am lost in some sort of self loathing sauce right now.

He looked me back, dead in the eye and said "No...that's a lot for ANYONE." 

As I walked away, all my stupid brain kept saying was, "That was nice of him to say....He didn't have to say that because it isn't really a lot, especially for all the people here."

 

SIGH

 

I am changing.  Aging is real.  And I don't need to cut myself off from any possible pleasure from working out or trying new things or staying strong.

Not sure what to do or feel at this point.  I should be looking to those women who are older than I who are still doing amazing things instead of always looking at the women who are younger than I; those who have decades of training behind them, thinking that I should be able to "keep up."  Dumb I know....but in my defense, we sure do live in a competitive culture. 

I guess I could use some help.  So if you hear me on the field or in the gym saying 'Yea, not bad for an old lady, not bad for a fat ass, not bad for a fat old lady" you have my permission to tell me to knock it off.  

Travel Travel

 Well,  we are back from our trip.  Yeah Yeah....what has become a yearly trip.

 

Who AM I??

 

Fucking grateful that we get to do this, that I make this happen.

The trip out was LONG....the trip back seemed to work out well.  We got back to Albuquerque about 11PM. Went to sleep as soon as I could, and have been pushing the bed time stuff pretty quickly.  I really haven't had TOO much jet lag....notice how I said not too much....I did still have the zombie staring off into the distance at about 3PM, but it hasn't been too bad.

 

Every year I know I write about this, so there isn't much new to say. If I can go, I will go.

 

This year was hard though, I got hurt on the first day of throwing.  Then I thought I might be fine on the second day....and well...that was a mistake. 

 So....I slept.  I slept a lot.  I would just stop mid day and go up to the room and nap.  I felt really bad at first.  Why would I come all this way, why aren't I doing all of the things, why aren't I doing all of the things.

Well....I needed to nap I guess. 

Did yoga again this year....and the ladies that were doing a bit of yoga with me...we all realized just how worn out we have been.  And some how we all decided that would give one another the permission, the grace to do nothing.

That being said...there were some super cool workshops about nerves and feet and neuro plasticity. It was lovely to watch the women compete for the first time...Great to hang out and watch stone lifting and strongman.  

We traveled to Edinburgh this year too. That was a sweet little side trip too.

Funnily enough, I did start writing again while we were there.  I remember I did that last year too.  

So here I am, just trying to start using the blog again too.

 

This month, I will try to test out the hip. I have a crazy amount of games coming up in September and October. I decided to throw at worlds this year, but that decision is a blog for another day. 

 

Mistakes were made.

First day back at the gym yesterday in a while.  Between the game and my mom's death....it's been an interesting couple of weeks.  

I just wanna say, we knew this was coming, she has not been well for a while and her release form this world of pain is really a good thing.

That being said...it is still...well, a thing....an interesting transition.  Y'all who have read this blog for a while know that this mother~daughter relationship was complex and challenging.  I truly hope she is free from so many things that hurt her though.  Truly.

 

OK ....so here was me in the gym yesterday.

 

Coach: Hey, how are you. Haven't see you in a bit.

Me: My mom died

Coach (horrified look) Oh, I'm so sorry.

Me: Oh, well we knew it was coming, it's just weird you know.

Coach: Yeah yeah,  so sorry.  

 

Guy in gym who I joke around with:  You ok today? 

Me:  Yeah, well, my mom died.

Guy:(horrified look) Oh god, I am so sorry.  

Me: Oh, well we knew it was coming, it's just weird you know.

Guy: Is there anything I can do?

Me: No No, sorry I ruined your workout by blurting that out. I shouldn't have said that.

Guy: no it's ok, you seemed off.  

Me: Yea, I must look like I cartoon character with a cloud over my head.

 Guy: No No you are fine.

Me: Again, sorry.

Guy: Can I pray for you this week? 

Me: Sure that would be nice.

 

Owner : Hey, How was your Mother's Day?

Me:  Yeah, well, my mom died.

Owner: (horrified look) Oh god, I am so sorry.  

Me: Oh, well we knew it was coming, it's just weird you know.

Owner: I bet.

Me: Oh hey how was your wife's Mother's Day, did you spoil her?

Owner: Sorry for your loss. (he scooted away sooo fast)

 

 

Me:  (to self) WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH ME?

 

Barely lifting and telling everyone my mom is dead.  

Nice gym behavior Mona, really nice. 

Mentioned the interactions at the gym to Grace and they said to me, "Well, maybe that's how normal people act. Like it's ok to ask and ok to say it and no one is judging that you told them."

Maybe... 

"Good Grief"

It is odd territory. It's been 47 years since I lost a parent.  That in itself is another weird experience.  Like, what can I learn from how I reacted back then?  Dunno, I was only a kid.  I do know that what I did after my dad's death was done out of necessity and didn't really serve me. So, talking about it is better.   

Just maybe not between lifts and to everyone who I know in passing who asks how I am.

I really am ok.  Like I said, it was for the best. She is free of her pain.  It is a transition though and it is my job to make sure I go through that transition and not try to skip over the work of it to some sort of philosophical musings.  Any my processing will look different than that of any of my siblings too.  There is no standard.

 

And to all of the folks who have reached out to me with thoughts, love, prayers, cards, flowers, thank you.

Thank you for sharing this burden with me as we step forward. Because that's what I realized that you all are doing, you have helped lighten my load for this transition.  I am deeply moved by your generosity and deeply grateful for your gift of support.

Bad parking.

 And a few laughs. 

Came out of the store to this…. For some reason it struck me as….funny.  I mean I had a momentary “what the fuck?” But then I saw the angle and figured they didn’t even see what they had done. I took a photo to send to Emery so we could laugh about bad parking.  

I was planning on just getting in on the passenger side. No big deal. 

Then the owner of this car comes up beside me and kinda in a freaked out or angry tone says , “ why are you taking a picture of my car?”  

Fair question. 

I just said, “ your parking job made me laugh.” 

Oh. More anger, “what’s wrong with my parking?”  

So I just did one of those sweeping gestures and started laughing.  I couldn’t help myself.  

They looked around me and all that defensiveness slid away. 

“Oh no.  Did I hit your car? I’m so sorry, let me move it. “ 

I just said, it’s ok.  We’ve all done it. And started laughing again. 

They asked, “if I didn’t hit your car, why did you take a picture?” 

“I just thought it was funny and wanted to share it with my son.”

I told them I don’t have your plate in the photo promise. And we looked at the back end of these cars and both started laughing.  

We exchanged the “have a great day” and “enjoy this beautiful day” and they pulled out. 

Then I jumped in my car and sent it to Emery.  

Something about the broiling fear and anger of the world right now just evaporated. It could have ended differently. But why? It’s funny and we’ve all parked like jackasses sometimes. 

It’s always the small stuff.  

Anniversaries

 Well.....I am super late in writing this.

The last two months have been, well.....

Any whoooo.....I had intended on doing a little bitty post about my anniversary at Elevate PHW.

Dudes, it has been 3 years.

3 YEARS??? Already?

 

And...it doesn't feel like it...I am not bored.  

Something about reaching this milestone made me realize that aside from Praxis....that I have usually left a place at about this mark or before.  Often because something didn't fit anymore, or that I could not get what I needed there any more, or...because I get bored. And honestly probably a combo of all three of these. 

After all, I haven't really been a "gym goer" for very long.  Or maybe I have?  I dunno.

So, not much to say really except, I really like this place...the trainers, the fact they have a physical therapy team in house....and trust me, I was SKEPTICAL when I first came....

I do believe I called it "the land of LuLu Lemon."  Not a compliment Mona, not very nice of you...

I also was a little blinded by my own experiences, my own biases about "gym culture." Somehow though...I stumbled into a gem (Thanks Kyle!).  I have had top notch attention to the details of my ridiculous sport and my crappy, not exactly looking like an athlete's, body.  They trust me to "do my own shit in the corner" while also keeping an eye on me.

It is also fun there....I almost feel like I have a place in that space...I know, I know....after 3 years Mona?  Yea...and that's my shit...

I am really trying to keep my word to myself and really focus on my throwing this year.  I have had quite a set back the last two months and honestly...I don't really know if I will have the luxury to actually do that this year given....what is headed down the pike.

But for now, I will celebrate a late 3 year anniversary and be super grateful that I feel welcome here.

Oh, was that it?

We all have moments that we can look back on our lives and realize when a moment was a "last time" moment. Often it is small things.  There are big ones too, people will have a sobriety date; know exactly when they had their last drink for example. We will often remember the last time we spoke with a loved one after they die. 

There are also moments that it is clear that it is a "last time."  I remember my last show as an under grad.  Well, I don't even remember the show, but I remember when it was done, when the strike was complete, sitting on the empty stage in the basement of Armstrong Theater.  I took many deep breaths and said good bye to that space, to that time in my life. 

We have so many "last times," if we are lucky....some of them lead to new beautiful moments or people in our lives.

Then there are the moments where you wonder...if this is it.  If that is the end.

Had this sort of experience this weekend and I was initially very reticent to write about it. In lots of ways it is because I don't want anyone to think I am asking you to counter how this feels, to say things to me like...oh no, that won't be the last, you have to keep at it, you have the skills...or anything like that.  This is not a pity party where I am looking for reassurances...this is just what I feel to be true right now. Doesn't mean I will keep feeling this way (even tho I truly think I will.)

I was cast in a short film back in February and due to all sorts of things, it didn't film until this past weekend. There were some nice folks working on this....the AD snapped this of me just as we were about to shoot a last minute page and a half long monologue that had NOT been part of the original shooting schedule.  That's a giggle of fear.  HA.

 

 The director wanted to add it last minute.  Gave me the script and said I could have it in front of me. For anyone who knows me or knows how I work, you can imagine my level of panic.  I said no multiple times, but he basically would not let me say no.....um....unacceptable.... but I did it anyway, so no doubt he will do this to actors again. There is such pressure on sets to just do what you are told. And in someways I get it.  I am a tiny cog in the giant story.  But generally you know well ahead of time what is expected of you. 

Anyway...to my original point.

I think this was the last set I will ever work on.

The following photos are from the amazing Carrie McCarthy.  During the thick of Covid, I had her redo my head shots.  She did a fantastic job I think....the problem though....I have booked precisely ZERO film jigs since January of 2020.  I shot on February 27th  of 2020 and then the production was shut down....along with the whole structure of auditions.

And I have not been able to make the transition.  

Not one job....until this short film....a student film....a chaos set...talk about feeling like I am taking about 100 steps back from how things were going. 

Given the life I lead; I have never had illusions that this could be my career, but I had hoped I could always work a little.  Like most artists always hoping in the back of my head that I would get a role that I could really sink my teeth into. 

I know for lots of actors, the on line remote auditioning has been awesome.  I seem to "do better in the room," that added to the fact that I have gained 30 pounds and well, aged (cause that's what people do) I have been in a dry spell that no longer feels like a spell. I care about my art form...I care deeply about the work of it. AND....I look how I look and I won't starve myself down...and as for the age thing, I am lucky to be aging.  

All that blathering to say....again....this feels like this short student film may just have been the last time I am on a film set.  

I have another photo shoot planned with Carrie that I will follow through with, but I kinda know that just like this set of shots above, they will not be "used" either.

And, that has to be ok.

It is out of my hands after all.

 

 

Prescott & Aztec & Bread crumbs

OOOOOF

Well, the last part of my season was 4 games in six weeks.  

That is a bit much for me.

The two big games back to back went ok....then Prescott & Aztec were back to back...

4 outta 10...do not recommend.   I do have a habit of forgetting that yes I am indeed aging...and the "oh it'll be fine," shows up a bit too much.  I had decent form in Aztec...but there was nothing behind it.  My oooomph got left partially in Estes...and whatever I had left...remained in Prescott.

So, I took the week after Aztec off....like no gym...a little yoga...but...rest.

Still didn't feel great the week after that and this week...on Tuesday at the gym, I kept checking my heart rate thinking I was having a heart attack. 

October can sometimes be a rough month...all sorts of reasons.  Some years are worse than others and this year is bad...oh well.  I keep trying to get to the gym 4 days, but it isn't happening... something shows up or for the last few week I am far too tired. Oh well.  

I spent some time this week looking back at goals I had set with the group of ladies in Fefor and there are somethings I am keeping up with and somethings that have lost my attention.  My stationary bike being one of them...so this week; I am getting on the bike even on lifting days.  Even for 10 minutes.  I have a big-ish goal if we can get back to Fefor this year which will need a bit more cardiovascular fitness than I usually expect of myself.

A couple of weeks ago, I say this quote about bread crumbs and it seemed to scream at me. SO here it is:

 

Take some time today to reevaluate the “bread crumbs” showing up in your life and make some decisions about which ones to embrace and follow through with. It is a good day to take one step at a time towards your goals. We will need to follow the bread crumbs to acknowledge what is becoming attractive to us and be flexible enough to let go of an old dream or intention to allow for a change in direction.

Change is here whether you like it or not. The best thing you can do is make sure your own transition is going in the right direction, the direction of the truth in your heart about what matters and who you wish to be in the future. If you have not yet managed to let go of what needs to be complete, make a plan to do so and be committed to it even if the logistics will take some time. This will create the space for new ideas, inspiration and support to begin to enter your field. 

Ok.... well....I thought I had something to say about this, but I am still mulling this over. Instead of waiting to post until I know...I am just posting it here and letting it roll around a little more.

What is really calling me now?

What are the bread crumbs I am driven to follow?

Is that jealousy or....

 Grief?

 

Been having some issues lately with jealously...oh that green monster...

 

What about Mona?  Oh lots of crap. 

My health, my throwing, how I look, my artistic life, how live, how I work, retirement concerns, relationship expectations...

All this stuff I am taking in and looking at myself and thinking, "what did I do wrong," or "why don't I haves."  And honestly there really is a lot I've done wrong (who hasn't), but why right now? Why am I looking all around me thinking "WHY".

Oh....

It suddenly hit me that I am not jealous really, it's grief.  

Grief for the person I never became, grief for lots of choices I made, grief for the open trusting child I started out as.

Ultimately....I gotta let go of the illusion that things "could have been different."

They simply are as they are. 

 

I thought this might be a super long blog where I tried to explain myself...but...it's not...it is just as it needs to be too.

I have a lovely life~ smart, caring, challenging friends, lots of love...the gentle supportive kind, I could go on...but as this meme above says....just breathing in and taking it in~means the list is truly endless.  

 

 

More numbers....and another question.

 I wrote recently about what it means to feel "ready" for a game after my dear friend Grace asked me what that meant. This weekend, after the game in Estes Park, Grant asked me, "did you have a good game."

Well, thanks babe...I did....why though?

Oh shit another deep thought on a simple question??? WHY???

Seriously, what does it mean to have a good game?  Surface level asks surface question...did you throw well...did you win?  I have always had a complicated relationship with the "did you win= a good game." Those who know me a little better know that about me already....I often do not post the actual out come of a competition. I have won some games and felt like absolute shit afterwards, so....what made it a good game this weekend?

There might just be too many factors for me to figure it out anymore.  I just know that I started out the day pretty joyful in movement and was able to hold on to that.  Was the weather good, yes. Beautiful setting, yes. Throwers I love sharing the field with, yes. New people to throw with who were open and generous, yes. Did I throw well, yes. Did I throw far (for me), yes.

I know a bunch of this is really about my mental prep, lead up or day of.  So how do I work on fixin my brain to have a "good game?"  Eh...I can't.  I guess it'll always be a crap shoot.

I will say I am not quite a wrecked as I thought I might be after doing a double.  Not sure I wanna do it anytime again soon....oh dammit...never mind....I am doing it again at the end of the month.

Ooooopsie.

So, I promised numbers....The first number is the list from the post-it note from two weeks ago, second number is from Estes...

25........27' 9.25"  Oh, nice. 

31........31' 9.5"   Threw a little further in Pleasanton, but I am always happy when I am over 30'

 45.......46'10"     Pretty similar, but happy...keeping that 2 turn.

62.........62' 5.25"    Wheeee....On the struggle bus with light....

65.........67' 1.5"     Happy with this one for sure.

80.........78' 9.5"     Ahhhhh, more struggles with my light hammer.

18.........18'           Um this was a fantasy, but I actually got it. And I also only got this because I did not know how high it was, I thought we were at 16, maybe 17.  Popped it over, last one in, and was asked if I wanted to go up.  Where are we, I ask...oh, really, I just cleared 18...again, with the mental game stuff.  Tried 19, been a looooong time since I tried that.  Didn't get it, but I was close.

26' on sheaf.  Don't throw sheaf in Pleasanton, so I didn't have a number on my post-it.  Happy as hell with 26, I went for 28....I think I might get it soon. Honestly, I don't think I will; but It is crazy to think I might be able to get a PR after all these years and at my rapidly advancing age.  

Ok...on that note....I did say a while back that I thought I should make some goals...big goals.  I have but I haven't put them up on here.  

Here they are....now keep in mind that these are "dream goals." Alrighty, I am nervous about even putting these out there.  sigh.

28

35

50

70

72

90

19

29

There they are....next year's goals.  I know I gotta get through 2024 first....and yea, something could show up to derail the focus. But there they are.

Dream big my friends and see how it goes.  

Pleasanton and Estes....

 So, even though I was trying not to have throwing goals for this weekend...I could not help myself and I put 8 numbers on a little sticky note and shoved it in my purse.

I dragged that little asshole out this morning and here is what is showed me.

I do love me some post it notes...

25

31

45

62

65

80

18

That's what I wrote.

Those of you can guess what those numbers mean....well, this is how the day ended up.

26

32

46

59

64

73

15

I am still struggling with my hammers...but heavy wasn't far off from my post it note...light is a mess...so is light weight.  I was double spinnin' with that heavy though, so that's good.  Now, that WOB number is a little misleading.  The first day of the comp, our group got delayed a bit, so when I won the event at 15 feet, I opted not to move the bar up so as not to jam up the standard any long...and we had caber to throw to!  I have also noticed that I am really dealing with the recovery after and during games really well.  Last year I had added the spin bike to my routine in a more regular way and I think that is really having a positive affect in recovery and "making it through" a game.  Now I know that there is a lot of down time during this game, but it is also a high stress game too.

Headed to Estes this weekend, yikes.  I don't do back to back games any more...I'm too old.  Really set myself up for a rough Fall...oh well.  I did hit the gym today and will try to hit it again on Thursday, while making sure I get up on that bike. I think I will just keep this ratty little post it for the game in Estes too.

I did have a really hard time this weekend feeling my age....feeling older than my age.  Really feeling that I am on a serious slide into something...new. I am super grateful that a lot of games, even huge ones like Pleasanton, have added the upper masters classes so I an still come play.

Man oh man...the 40's masters classes had 4 people in on WOB at 20 feet. You read that right, 20 feet.  It was so cool.  SO inspiring. I loved hanging out on the horse track on Sunday and watching all the huge throws.

Once it was all wrapped up, I was walking down the track and I looked up. Took a deep breath in as I watched a hawk riding the thermals in and out of the palm trees.

I stopped for a moment and just felt the ephemeral nature of this moment.  I may never be back on that track again, for any number of reasons. 

That made me feel such gratitude. Gratitude for this moment, for this game, for the organizers, for the volunteers, for all the athletes, for the friends I have made, for this body that is still holding up. 

If I never get to look up at those palm trees again, if I never get to watch these powerhouse throwers again, if I never get to push myself on that field again; I have that moment.  

I hold this gratitude. 

Are you ready?

 I was talking to a friend recently about my upcoming game. As anyone who has read this blog for any amount of time, you are aware that Pleasanton is one of; if not my favorite game.  They asked how I was feeling, and I said "not ready."

 

As I've written about recently, I am having the season I trained for....I been busy doing other things this year....but Grace asked me...."what does ready mean?"

 

Oh, huh....what does ready mean to me.  I spent a couple days mulling over this thought....

 

Does it mean I am throwing the best I have ever thrown?

No

Does it mean I am throwing the best I can right in this moment?

No

Well, what does it mean then?

I decided that feeling ready for a game like this; feels like being ok in my own skin, like feeling solid on my feet, like trusting my body knows how to throw. When I feel those things is when I have "felt ready."

 

 

Oh....so being "ready" is mostly in my broken little brain....along with making sure I am working my drills and basics of throwing.

 

Got it.  Find your feet and have some fun.

 

 

Oh another note, a women I admire a whole lot has a blog....go give it a read.... Life and strong man things are on the menu.

 Link below!

Kikki

 

 

 

Colorado....and migraines.

 How'd that second game in Colorado go?

Well, like I said about Elizabeth...I had the game I trained for.....but....something came up during the game.

As we were wrapping up the athlete meeting, I felt like I had something in my eye...oh shit.

Nothing was in my eye, but I couldn't see....fucking migraine.

I had just had one the weekend before....like come on, no way.  Yup.

Choices choices, what to do....We started on hammer....GAG,  I know we probably should have left...just gone back to bed at the hotel, but I was so mad.  I was upset with my body, with myself.  Like what the heck am I doing wrong that I am still getting these dumb things.

I did learn a whole lot....like Midol is AMAZING for migraines.  I felt like an idiot, but all these lovely women were taking care of me. Not letting me shag, making sure I stay hydrated, helping me off the field when I felt nauseated.

Ultimately, I should have left so that I didn't burden the ladies on the field; but my irritation at myself and my stubbornness...got the better of me.

I felt so betrayed by my own body...it's a terrible theme lately.

I've got 18 days before Pleasanton and I think I may spend the week before the game only throwing.  Focus...I know I won't be at my best for that game, but I want to be more prepared than I am now.

Anyhooo...That's it for right now. 

Proud of you....

 I used to listen to a pod cast, "Go Love Yourself," I only don't listen to this anymore simply because they ended it this year.  I really enjoyed the tone, the subjects, the humor of this pod cast.  Last year, one of the women, Laura, wrote a book.

Diet Starts Monday

She described the book release party. It was super sweet, they talked about choosing clothes, the insane butterflies that cause tummy troubles, then she talked about her Dad.  How he was off to the side, and it made her nervous that he was uncomfortable.  He came up to her at the end of the public portion, looked at her and said, "I am so proud of you."  

It moved her, even as a women in her 30's. 

I was listening in the car as I drove home and I had to pull over briefly.   Without warning, I was weeping. Openly, loudly, blocking my vision, kind of tears.

It was like my memories swiftly rewound.  I never heard those words from my Father.  Now he died when I was very young, so it's not like I did anything he might have been proud of.  I can remember bringing report cards to the freaking cemetery to "show" him. Looking back, I suppose I was wanting to hear him say he was proud of me.  That, there would be some sort of supernatural moment. Suffice it to say...ha, nope.

Then there is my Mom. 

Oh boy.

She is still here.

I've never done anything to make her proud of me either.  I've had the time with her...but nope.  Never heard that phrase or "felt" that either. Not for anything....truly. I could go into details, but really what is the point.

It's ok really.  I always try to imagine her as a dear little one, also never feeling like she was enough.

Poor little baby, seriously.

I know I am not alone in having parents like this...

I thought about how this led me to choose folks in my life that continued this "tradition." People who hated any success that I might have. How I then chose to chase approval, while never believing any praise that is sent my way. Then I thought of my kids, racking my stupid brains to remember times that I have told them how proud of them I am.  And I am...for so many things; but mostly, that they choose to live as their authentic selves in this insane world.

Then I cried more, thinking of the times I have blown off my adventure partner or a dear friend when they have expressed the very thing I crave.  I always come at him with, "Why would you say that?" I kept weeping when I realized in that short little moment on the side of the road...I can be be proud of myself and it doesn't mean I am some sort of narcissist.

I can be proud of some of the things I have done or can do.

It's way past time to stop looking for parental approval, I didn't even realize that that was what I was doing. Time to seek some sort of self approval. I can also make sure that I tell the people in my life when I am proud of them, even when it feels weird.  Ultimately, saying "I'm Proud of you" does not have to come only from our parents.  It seems odd now that I had believed that for 50+ years. 

In Fefor this year, I walked away from that Mountain Madness Comp feeling proud of myself...I walked away from that whole week feeling proud of myself...and I didn't even need to bring an award to my Dad's grave site to feel it.

Elizabeth Update....

 So....How'd it go Mona?

I had the game I trained for.  

I have another game in two weeks and will likely have a similar game.  I only have 6 weeks until Pleasanton and I am a little concerned that I am on the road to embarrass myself.  I do know though, that this was always going to be how this year played out.

Soooo, get over myself.

I had so much fun seeing the folks in Colorado. 

It was interesting, we had a pretty big group as we threw with the light weight women. The day started with Caber & height events.  Oddly enough, these events felt good...well, caber felt scary?  I have no idea why, but I go scared of caber.

FUCK.

What it that?  I love caber.  So freaking weird.

Now, distance? 

Oh holy hell.

Lost my damn two spin again...I mean I could for the light, but it SUCKED...then I took one extra on a heavy....after we were done, and it was fine.  SO it is there...

All I can say is my adventure partner cleared up the back yard, so....the goal is to throw at least one extra day.....I would rather commit to 2 extra days. As for now, I will work for one extra. 

We did have a lovely trip and cannot wait to get back up to the Colorado games next week.

 That's it, just a short short update not filled with many details.  But working on rebuilding a habit can happen best for me in tiny bites.

😊

Elizabeth

Long ago and far away, I used to write about the goals I would lay out for myself before a game.

So, here is a short check in. Mostly to get this writing habit a kick in the pants. 

We are headed to Colorado this weekend.  It is a small group of Masters women, all but one I know and have thrown with before.  I honestly cannot remember how many times I have been to this game. I do remember one year CJ riding a unicorn toy after we were done....but I cannot remember how many times we have gone.  It is the same weekend as Flagstaff, so there was always a choice to be made. Well, this year Flagstaff has only a demo for athletics so....there ya go.

Honestly, it was silly of me to sign up for these games so close to coming back from Norway, but whadda gonna do?

Goal, goal, goals....huh....um, I am still not feeling great and I JUST got back to the gym this week....and OH MY GAWD....the throwing area we have in the back yard is utter trash at the moment...so goals....

Maybe not fall down?

Ok Ok....focus on...FORM.  No number goals for me this time.  We head back to Colorado in like two weeks, so maybe I'll have goals then for numbers....

I have though, been working on my goals for the year. I did write down some super scary way the fuck out there numbers...because you know...why not.

I had this thought after Norway, that I always censor my goals to "what might be possible" and perhaps after all these years I could shoot for impossible goals and just see what happens. Don't get me wrong...The might be possible goals have often not been attained either...and sometimes they have functioned as a midway point sort of goal.  

They are good solid stepping stones.  But....what if....

Yup, this next year might just be the "What If..." year.

Been a long time again.

 Norway dreams and lessons.

 

Well, where the hell have I been?   Been busy....I did a crazy combo this spring, ADing the Rio Grande Games, then opening an original piece of theater with Grotessco two weeks later....So, things got shuffled and prioritized as they needed to be to give my energy where it was needed.

Writing my little bloggy blog fell into hibernation.  For the 6~8 weeks before the show, the gym took a back seat as well.  I also know that I haven't been writing with any sort of consistency in....probably 8 years...hahahahaha.  This will unlikely be the start of anything consistent either.

So, a week and a half after the show closed, my adventure partner and I set off for another trip to Norway...Fefor Power week.  You know that for us, there is something special there.  Last year was a little hard, I was injured, there were weird issues with another thrower, and I just felt...off.  Like I really didn't belong there.  

But we hopped a plane again.  This time I told myself a few things....I would use this time to rest, to learn, and to reconnect with my journal practice. Frankly, I would go for me...not worry about what I was there to "do" or worse, "prove."

I cannot get into all the details...it's an experience...not a series of boxes to check and report to others...but I will say this....

I did write again,  I rested well and did morning yoga with a beautiful group of women, I went to the room and napped; sadly I missed an award ceremony one of these days...I was SOOOOOO sad about that, my adventure partner and I reconnected in a very important way....most importantly, I feel like I was more, me, than I had been here before.  

I also tried the Mountain Madness event, which was a hybrid strongman/highland event.  WOB and 5 Strongman events...things I had never done before.  Now WHY I did this, I really don't know, but something in my tiny brain said "try."  Sarah and the athletes over at Evolution Strength and Conditioning, were willing to help this old highland games broad out and go over some basics so I didn't hurt myself, so I didn't go in completely blind.

But even with a few Saturday classes, I was so far out of my depth.  My goal was to "get" two of the 5 strongman events. There were 2 events a day. So glad they were spread out like that.

To say that I was scared each morning as walked out to the arena every day is an understatement. A good scared, but scared.  The strongmen out there so damn helpful with tips and tricks and even equipment.  

So, I have some video of the events, but I wanted to share this one in particular.  It is a Viking deadlift at 485lbs.  This is one of the events that I absolutely KNEW I could not do.

I got it...I actually "got" all five events.

As cool as this video is...there is a lot of what really matters that is NOT in this video.  What you don't see?

My warm ups, where I could not move that bar with less weight.

All the women giving me tips on how to get my knees set.

My wraps failing and Tenaya giving me her figure 8 wraps to use.

Me bracing and my silly non strongman approved weight belt ripping off.

Ilennis TAPING ME INTO MY WEIGHT BELT!

When I set up, the shear terror and thrill I felt...the sudden knowledge that I had to zero in in the judge, because he was giving me cues.  I could literally see on his face that he thought I could do this. 

As soon as I would start a lift, I would then look straight ahead and who got himself in my line of sight? My adventure partner who always knows I can do more than I think I can.

After the one minute was up...I got stuck in one of the figure 8 wraps and one of the guys rushed over...thinking I was passing out.  He then had to unstick me from my belt.   

Christine, who slid some candy in my line of sight, cause I was shaking.

All of the ladies...all of the folks watching...urging me on.

And once I was done, once I was done cheering for the rest of the competitors, the conversation I had with the judge...I thanked him.  For helping me through it.  He looked me dead ass in the face and said, "You are so strong."

That's it.  

No qualifiers, no "for a's" attached to it.

You are so strong.

Me....me, who always says, "for a fat ass...for an old woman...for a....whatever."

Nope, just strong...from one of the strongest there has ever been.  

 

 

Now I know what you might be thinking...Mona, other people have said that to you.

Yes, and I don't listen to them because they like me or love me or because I pay them....

But all these women who are strong...some of the freaking strongest...seeing me....seeing strength.

Oh boy...there's the lesson this year.  Thank you all....and a huge thanks to Kikki and Egil for making this space that this weird old highland games broad can come and discover something new about herself...something true about herself. 

Black & Yellow.

In the gym the other day...not one of my typical days.  I am slogging away at my 5x5 dead lift thingy...feeling, burned out frankly.  Been a STRUGGLE to get things done that I like doing for myself. Standing in front of that 375 thinking I have seriously bit off more than I can chew this spring.  

I like all the things I have to do...but it is toooooo many.

Anyhoooo  Standing in front of that bar when I see a young guy in black and yellow get on a bike.  I do a set...look up again and there is a group of three....in black and yellow.  I wrap up the lifts head over for some mobility and a group of like 8 guys...yes....black & yellow.....I am working on that IT band...and yes another group...the largest, comes in.

It's New Mexico United day....at the gym.

Since I was right there in the mobility pit, I watched a group of them for a bit.  Now keep in mind, the trainers had split this group of black & yellows into 3 groups, so there were like 8 dudes working mobility.  I noticed something, the younger guys; well, they were awkward.  Yea...I KNOW...they are professional athletes, like how dare I...but seriously.  I know these guys move on the field, but with the mobility stuff....the younger guys were struggling.  

Of course the coaches were coachin' and working with them...but they reminded me of great dane puppies.  Big, strong, but they still don't quite know how to make it all work smooooothly. 

Honestly, it was pretty cool to see.  The older guys had a different kind of handle on their movement.  A more settled way of moving.  I know these young guys will get it and it's why they work with more than just their coaches on the field...that's why they have strength and conditioning and mobility coaches. It makes them better players and helps prevent injuries too.

 

I don't know, I just wanted to share...black & yellow....

 

I have missed writing...but...sigh....