Say Goodnight, Gracie

"Say Goodnight, Gracie".....that was her official name as registered with the American Kennel Club. Yesterday, at the age of 9 years and 7 months, she passed from this life into the next.

She was my brother's dog. Selected from the last litter of my parents' Labs when she was just hours old. He took the only yellow female, I took the only black male. Gracie and Gunther.

Gracie went off with Jared to live in College Station. He trained her according to the advice given him by his boss, the owner of the Dixie Chicken. "Tie her to your leg for a day and she'll never leave you." And she didn't. Even when Gracie came back to live in San Antonio with our parents, if Jared was around, she was right next to him.

She was a good, GOOD dog. But she was also terrible. Much like her father, she loved the art of escape. She would tear boards off the fence and scramble her awkward yellow body out and run as fast as she could. She always came back, but she had to be watched. Tricky little girl. Jared said he once saw her climb a chain link fence in College Station, perch all four feet on the top, and jump to the other side. Always after adventure. We all have a "remember that time I had to tackle Gracie" story.

Mom asked Anna yesterday if she thought that maybe Gracie had been trying to escape again because she knew she was dying. Anna replied "No, she was always a little shit."

She didn't escape because she didn't want to be wherever she was, she did it for the sheer joy of running free, unbounded by fences and property lines. I'm pretty sure that if she had been human, she would have been a messy little girl with lopsided pigtails, strawberry jam dripped down the front of her ruffled dress, chocolate smeared across her face. Dirty hands gripping a crayon with determination, but completely unable and unwilling to stay within the lines. That was Gracie.

She often forgot how to eat from the self-feeder. She was awkward in many, many ways. Big and tall and with a tail that was slightly longer than the rest. Lopsided ears, but the sweetest face you could ever know. Rough and tumble from the get-go and possessing a ferocious bark that was heard only when she sensed a threatening presence on the other side of the fence.

Gracie was the embodiment of fun. She ran with big feet, always tilting a little to one side. Never quite with balanced form. And she loved everybody. She was especially fond of "helping" my sister get her tan on in the backyard. There was never a way for her to just be with you....she needed to be on you.

Our family is exceptionally close....even down to our dogs. So when Mom messaged Jared to come yesterday, he went immediately. She and Dad had discovered Gracie laying in the yard. Still. Her breathing was labored and she didn't wag her tail in characteristic greeting. A massive infection had begun to seep from her ear and eyes. They tried to move her but she was dead weight. She couldn't help move herself.

Anna was able to leave work for just a few minutes and tell her goodbye. If she could have, she would have stayed with her all day, brushing her and stroking her head between her eyes....that always made her relax.

When Jared got there he scooped Gracie up and carried her to her bed where he stayed with her, holding her for her last few hours. She was his little girl. He was her first love.

She was smitten with him from the very beginning. And she never stopped looking at him with the same awe. It was almost comical....she would very nearly swoon when he was around. It's like she would sink into her large frame, tongue hanging out, doe-eyed look on her face. Precious.

He carried her into the vet's office. Dad went with him. The vet felt of her and knew immediately. "Labs are prone to this...." She had a very large tumor on her liver, most likely pressing on her spine and causing the immobility and breathing difficulties. Had to be cancerous to take down such a big dog so fast.

She had been healthy just days ago.

So on Thursday afternoon, my Bub said goodnight to his beloved Gracie. One last time. And ever loyal, he held her as she slept.

Gracie ~July 13, 2001 - February 24, 2011~

There's Grace and Then There's Not So Much

7 minutes and 37 seconds. That's how ridiculously long it took me to complete 30 clean & jerks for time this morning. I knew better than to try for the prescribed weight of 95 pounds. That's my standing one rep max. 30 ain't happening....at least not quickly.

I don't know what happened. Other than I just got lost concentrating on form and repeating reps that I didn't think should count (I have no idea how many times I did this). On the very first rep, something happened in my right deltoid muscle and I lost power. (What is with my right arm this week??) It was ugly, so I didn't count it. The very beginning and I already had to start over....

I have a great tendency to overthink things. I know....shocker! So when everyone else was done and I still had 10 reps to go, it just kind of unnerved me. It was 65 pounds. I should have had that, no problem, in less than 5 minutes. It feels like I've been waiting to meet "Grace" forever....and now I feel like I made a bad first impression. Kinda like the kid who lopes over to the cute girl at the school dance and fumbles over his words and wants to ask her but never quite gets to it before muttering something along the lines of "I'm gonna go" and loping back off into the mirror-ball flecked blackness of obscurity....Okay, that might be a little much. I'm just disappointed.

Does anyone ever attempt "Grace" twice in one day? Not that I'm going to....but I should have gone heavier. 10 extra pounds would have made me feel more stable and I would have stuck the landings better.

Nothing left to do now but leave it alone and learn from it and try not to feel like such a failure. I did complete it, after all. Just feels like it wasn't my best effort. My mind got loose and wandered. Now that it's back, I think I'll go buy some new shoes.

New shoes make everything better.

Fail....But Don't Not Try

Today I failed on my third rep of a 75 lb power snatch. My right elbow came up way too soon and I somehow leaned back mid-rep and felt something tug in the lower right side of my back. As much as it hurt my pride, I knew that it might not be a good idea to attempt the three rep max again this morning. My goal (albeit lofty) was 80 or 85, but it just was not to be today.

I've always hated working that particular movement (and no, not because of the name....). I'm just not "good" at it. Anything with a wide grip makes me uneasy. Those two outside fingers on my left hand tend to go numb due to some misfire between my neck and shoulder and I think I'm losing my grip. I might not actually be losing it, but I don't know because I can't actually feel it. To lose grip on a bar bearing a bunch of weight while holding it over my head isn't exactly my idea of a good time.

And 75 lbs may not seem like a bunch of weight to you. Me either....but I'm not done. I want each of my max weights to be three digits. I'm just a touch OCD and I like things in 3's.... I'm not so close on this one, but I'm not that far away either. Two months ago, my max snatch weight was about 45 pounds. Today I got 75 up...twice. Two months from now, it'll be 105.

I might have failed on that third rep. But by failing, it means I at least tried.

I hate it when I hear people say "Oh, I could never do that." How do you know? Have you tried? You might not get it the first time.....but you might on the twenty-first. If you're not willing to at least try, you're welcome to watch me do what you think you can't....

Or watch me at least try.



Today's WOD:

12 minutes to find max 3 rep power snatch
*maxed at 70 lbs*

12 minute AMRAP:
10 dumbbell power snatches (left)
10 dumbbell power snatches (right)
200 m run

*5 complete rounds (Rx...20 lbs)

It's the Little Things

Not every day can be a PR day....but today is!

Little things. Small victories. Instances and incidentals that matter to no one else, really. But in my mind and in my heart they matter, nonetheless.

The little way my son puckers his lips without opening his eyes as I peek under his warm blankets and ask him for a good morning kiss. The two small race cars that he put in my lunch bag as I rushed out the door and didn't remember until I opened it just now. Made my heart soar.

The look of pride and contentment on his face as I let him wash the dishes last night. Of course the sink overflowed and a little water got on the floor. But it was just a little water. No match for the big feeling of accomplishment and the smile that beamed on the face of one precious little boy.

It's things like that....

And things like that little boost of confidence that came from pushing more weight over my head than I ever thought possible....That little dip of the knees just before the drive overhead that makes the little and yet big difference between a strict press and a push press. Lowering oneself to increase power....novel idea.

I might miss a lot of the big things, but I hope I never stop seeing the little things.

Not every day can be a PR day....but I'm thankful for every little day that comes.



Today's WOD:
"Dingle"

5-5-3-3-1-1 max effort push press
*maxed at 105 pounds* PR!!!

then...
10 dumbbell push press (Rx 20 lb)
10 toes to bar (modified)
5 rounds for time
6:43

Prayers x 400 meters

Today I am *this* close. This close to getting my chin up over that bar without help from a giant rubber band. Going in, I didn't know I'd be that close. My first workout in a solid week...usually doesn't bode well for me. But sometimes we resolve to just do what's on the board. Don't think about it. Don't talk about it. Just do it.

And then sometimes we resolve to do more than we think we can. After the first round of "Nicole", Coach Mike told me it looked like I was ready for the lighter band. I'm not sure what might have given him that indication. Probably the 20 reps I busted out unbroken. He told me I was banned from the green band from now on. (At 6:30 in the morning, that's really funny...)

And then, after my second 400 meter run, instead of deciding that I would give the lighter band a go the next time we do chins, I decided to switch right then. No more comfort zone. No one actually improves by staying in their comfort zone. I knew that the lighter band would require more effort from me and my reps would go way down. But somehow, I was at peace with that. This isn't a race. I'm not competing with anyone but me.

The lighter band felt like almost nothing at all. I was truly having to work. My max reps dropped from 20 to 7...and then 6...and then 5....and then 4. For the last two rounds, I suppose I could have counted 6 and 5, respectively. But the last attempted rep for each of those rounds didn't actually make it over the bar. In my world, that doesn't count.

Surprisingly, I didn't mind the 400 meter run at the beginning of each round. There were only 3 of us in the class and we ended up pretty spaced out after the first, so I had a lot of alone time. Most of the time I pray for the run to be over quickly, but this morning I just prayed. Fervently. For one little girl I don't even know.

As the faint streaks of orange sun appeared, I thought about how Sadie's mama would most definitely rather be running at this hour than sitting at the hospital bedside of her 6 year old baby. Just one week ago, their life was normal. Sadie had been sick with a stomach bug for a while, but she went back to school. On Tuesday, the school nurse called her mom to come pick her up. She was sick again. This time, a knot was felt in her abdomen. This wasn't right. In the ER that day, Sadie's mom would learn that her daughter had a large tumor on her stomach. Surgery the next day. Tumor ruptured. Cancer. Sadie's daddy would be making his way home from Afghanistan....

I ran and I prayed. For Sadie. For her mom, Jennifer. For her dad, Ryan. For my sweet friend Brittany who knows and loves them dearly. For my own child, sleeping at home in his own bed.

Lord, let me never take for granted.....

And please, if you are moved to do so, storm heaven with me for little Sadie. She doesn't leave my thoughts. My prayers for her do not cease. God doesn't need our help to heal her. But I know He listens when His children cry.

I know He does.



Today's WOD:

tabata burpees

"Nicole"
400 meter run
max unbroken pull-ups
20 minute AMRAP

My effort:

400 meter run (6 total)
20/7/6/5/4 max unbroken pull-ups per round