Fitness Part 1: Stinkbug stance meets Vince Lombardi

I’ve met with a trainer, Jeff, four times now. They’ve been very humbling experiences. He's great and, I'm, well, not great.   Our first meeting was short and mainly for him to assess my strength and flexibility. The verdict:  things could be worse. Yay!


Then came the actual work-outs – they’ve kicked my butt, but imagine my surprise to find I could actually do them. So that’s the good news, I don’t suck. But boy, do I have a lot of work ahead of me.  Going into this I knew it would be a challenge, but I think I may’ve forgotten just how hard a serious work-out can be. Or, more likely, I never knew.  The work-outs have been grit and grunt, limb-quivering  affairs requiring every ounce of strength and determination I’ve got. Collapsing in a puddle halfway through a set of exercises in front of Jeff is not an option for me.  On the plus side, I have to focus and concentrate so hard that the time flies.



The bad news is “stuff” happens. I know this is not a news flash, but somehow I thought that drive alone would give me a straight shot to my goal.   But already injury, illness and weather have messed up my plans and shown me that the road to the surfboard is going to have some detours from the neat little map I had in my head.


Over the past few weeks I’ve had to contend with a strained back (gardening), a strain on my side (working out), a week-long cold (courtesy of my six year old), then one more backache from planting swiss chard (which will totally be worth it). I was all ready to dive in the pool and swim laps over Memorial weekend when rumbling thunder and the chance of lightening shut down the pool for half an hour. Twice.  No work out that day. When plans have fallen through I’ve ended up feeling defeated and anxious.


I don’t want to miss a work-out. I feel like I can’t. My goal is date specific – by early August I’ll be at surf camp and need to be ready. This is a huge challenge for me and, unfortunately, “stuff” is going to continue to happen that will derail my daily plans. I’m going to need a tough mindset that’ll help me push through all the physical, mental and emotional obstacles that’ll be coming my way this summer.


I’m going to adopt the psychological equivalent of a stinkbug stance. Used by beginners or experienced surfers struggling in a big wave, a stinkbug stance is the best stance to take to simply hang in there and keep moving forward. That’s what I need to do. When life interferes with my well-laid training plans and I’m feeling ticked off and defeated, I need to step into a strong, determined mindset. Times like that may even require digging back to my Green Bay childhood for a Vince Lombardi mantra or, better yet, a rousing rendition of the Packers fight song. Cause one thing is for sure, I too am a fightin' fool and I plan to crash that wave with all my might.  

Steroids or sweat

With so much talk about performance enhancing drugs in sports, it’s hard not to want to get my hands on some. They seem pretty magical. Fraught with problems, yes, but when you see muscle bound jocks performing incredible physical feats, you must admit there’s some magic in those drugs. I’m jogging, swimming and lifting weights, but I’m going to need more.  I'd love muscle drugs. C’mon, don’t judge, I might have to fight off a shark! I’ve got to be strong.


But the truth is, if I could figure out how to get my hands on a performance enhancing drug, I’m pretty sure it’d make me throw up and snap at my kids; two things I try to avoid.   Plus I like my neck the size it is. And as a former Catholic, the guilt from thinking that I was cheating would degrade my sense of accomplishment. You know, assuming I accomplish this.


So what’s left for a wannabe surfer who needs to shape up in a hurry? Professional help.  I’m going to start working out with a trainer this week. I’ll be putting myself in Jeff’s capable hands and trusting that some muscle will come the old-fashioned way. No magic, just hard work and lots of sweat. 

Seemed like a good idea to swap a pomegranate, seltzer, bitters and lemon spritzer for my nightly glass of wine. It makes a tasty and surprisingly good substitute.  

I've made some changes in my diet as well. As pictured above, I've swapped a pomegranate, seltzer, bitters and lemon spritzer for my frequent - o.k., almost daily -  5pm glass of wine.  It makes a tasty and surprisingly good substitute.  That's gotta help, right?  Shed a few pounds and there's less girth  to push up onto the surfboard.

A Little Crazy

A week ago I had a realization; I really, really want to surf. It’s kind of a crazy idea for someone living in Madison, Wisconsin.  Wisconsin – a whole lot of lakes, very little surf. The lakes with some surf, Lake Michigan and Lake Superior,  are very, very cold. 

There are a couple other reasons it’s sort of crazy. I’m a 53 year old, stay-at-home mom of young kids who hasn’t seriously worked out in over five years and, since then, has put on a few pounds.    

But how can I let that stop me? Surfing looks like exhilarating, off-the-charts fun. People who actually do it confirm this. I’m a big fan of fun and it dawned on me recently, as I signed my kids up for their upcoming summer of fun, that I needed more. I had let my “work hard/play hard” ethic get way out of balance.  

So no surf, overweight and out of shape. Minor details, right?  Did I let them stop me from signing up for surf lessons in August? Hell no! I found a little local school in Cocoa Beach, Florida, and reserved my spot. I booked a hotel room. I posted my intentions on Facebook. I made a diet and exercise plan. 

And then, a few days later, the universe chimed in.

With a little time between dropping-off and picking-up my daughter, I went to a bookstore for books on surfing. An employee, Don, approached and asked if I needed any help. I said I was looking for the sports section and he helpfully ushered me in the right direction as I added that I was looking for books on surfing. He gave me a quick look-over and said “For a gift?”  Nice, Don.  With a very sheepish smile I answered “No, it’s for me. I want to learn to surf.” Don brightened up considerably and said “I’m a surfer! I lived in San Diego and surfed for twenty years. I lived with a U.S. surf champion.” I stopped in my tracks – huh??? No way!

Don was delighted to point me to books, documentaries and movies about surfing and recommended others I could find elsewhere.  We shook our heads and laughed about the coincidence of meeting – I mean, really, there I am, freshly bitten by the surf bug, out looking for books on surfing and a surfer walks up to help me? In Wisconsin??  I was pretty sure the universe had just said “Do it. Follow your crazy.”

But yin needs its yang and they met much later that night. After meeting the surfer dude, after days of confidently setting my surf quest in motion, and after announcing it to the world, then, of course, I starting freaking out. Couldn't sleep for the freaking. This was just bravado, I thought. It was nonsense spouted by a person with pitiful core strength who can barely do five push-ups on her knees!  What was I thinking? It was a long night.

Remarkably, by morning the panic was gone and the drive to surf was back, due in no small part to my boost from the universe. That and, well, it is just the pursuit of fun here. 

Sure, surfing is a crazy dream for me. But aren't those often the best kind?