I came to the realization that I was nowhere near how good I could be, and that I hadn't actually tapped ALL of my former coaches' knowledge. And even if I did, if I had gotten to the point where he could not teach me more or improve my game, it would have been totally understandable to seek someone else out.
I think that still applies here. Become as good as possible, and seek out better fencers and coaches as required. Like, duh right?
Still, it's going to come down to my putting the time in, and being super honest competitively. Better start sniffing around now. I have tournaments in the Fall!
--MCSM
Monday, June 6, 2011
Friday, June 3, 2011
Take THAT, Dead Horse!
So I reluctantly publicly comment on the state of my health. Very slow going, but not getting worse? Ugh, why even write about it? But I feel incidentally good about starting anew yet again. Fall seven times, get up eight I guess. I'm reluctant to write about health anymore, at least personal health, because so much of an entry like this requires me to set up a conflict to over come. I've felt for a long time that personal blogging can become a substitute for progress. If I'm sitting in front of my computer, then I'm not being active, and therefore if I'm putting words on the page, it sure looks like I've broken through the pre-contemplation stage to the great beyond of personal success.
Fitness does not feel like a health blog, though it can. It is a feeling. I feel it going away already, like someone telling you what to do. I resent when someone tells me how to be healthy, and I don't know why, but it is a feeling shared by many. When I tell it to myself it becomes a self-loathing process. Is this a bizarre form of psychopathy? I have no idea. But all the tough love and public goal setting doesn't really help. It feels like it does. It may provide a clue as to the orientation of the attribution of my health status, but it is not my health, which is important to remember. I suppose I'm talking to you as well, if you're reading this.
You don't read a lot about people who fail their health quests. Actually, you almost never read about a health blog unless someone was always healthy or formerly unhealthy. Unless you're Ruby. Then you're on your way.
I'm hardly at "Ruby" status. But my identity as a (cough, former, cough) athlete is in tatters, and it's tough to move with any kind of certainty. If you've come this far then you're entertaining the thought of my deficiencies, so deal. I don't want this to be about "poor me I had a Big Mac." So why bother writing? This really is therapeutic. In my own desire for attention and approval, it's an exercise in restraint to NOT tell those most intimate to me that I update it. Like a cryptic facebook status about some people, I have thrown this into a corner of cyberspace for the occasional bored browser, a cyber-addict like me, to click through, highlight, forget, re-read, and move on.
That seems scathing and perhaps unfair. I'm not pessimistic, but I AM trying to be realistic while also maintaining a sense of hope and momentum. I probably shouldn't read books about whether or not we have Free Will during this endeavor. Once I found out being an athlete was a choice it almost killed me. So much of my identity is soldiering on because I have to. A cause projected onto an arbitrary activity can be liberating provided you don't know it's malleable. That shouldn't diminish the meaning, but for me it somehow does. A rebel with out a cause. Or something.
So even though I might sound like a late-20-something clinging desperately to the youthful version of a former self, here goes another round of healthy living. I suppose as a P.E. teacher it's appropriate to function in units that are only a few weeks long before switching to something else. Okay I'm done with that joke, and that attitude.
The best time to start a diet is tomorrow. No more food for me tonight, and a healthy weekend ahead. Let's see how it goes. SMART goal number one: Keep under 2,000 calories and burn 300 through activity tomorrow. SMART goal number two: Wake up before 8am on the weekends. And so on.
Peace,
MCSM
Fitness does not feel like a health blog, though it can. It is a feeling. I feel it going away already, like someone telling you what to do. I resent when someone tells me how to be healthy, and I don't know why, but it is a feeling shared by many. When I tell it to myself it becomes a self-loathing process. Is this a bizarre form of psychopathy? I have no idea. But all the tough love and public goal setting doesn't really help. It feels like it does. It may provide a clue as to the orientation of the attribution of my health status, but it is not my health, which is important to remember. I suppose I'm talking to you as well, if you're reading this.
You don't read a lot about people who fail their health quests. Actually, you almost never read about a health blog unless someone was always healthy or formerly unhealthy. Unless you're Ruby. Then you're on your way.
I'm hardly at "Ruby" status. But my identity as a (cough, former, cough) athlete is in tatters, and it's tough to move with any kind of certainty. If you've come this far then you're entertaining the thought of my deficiencies, so deal. I don't want this to be about "poor me I had a Big Mac." So why bother writing? This really is therapeutic. In my own desire for attention and approval, it's an exercise in restraint to NOT tell those most intimate to me that I update it. Like a cryptic facebook status about some people, I have thrown this into a corner of cyberspace for the occasional bored browser, a cyber-addict like me, to click through, highlight, forget, re-read, and move on.
That seems scathing and perhaps unfair. I'm not pessimistic, but I AM trying to be realistic while also maintaining a sense of hope and momentum. I probably shouldn't read books about whether or not we have Free Will during this endeavor. Once I found out being an athlete was a choice it almost killed me. So much of my identity is soldiering on because I have to. A cause projected onto an arbitrary activity can be liberating provided you don't know it's malleable. That shouldn't diminish the meaning, but for me it somehow does. A rebel with out a cause. Or something.
So even though I might sound like a late-20-something clinging desperately to the youthful version of a former self, here goes another round of healthy living. I suppose as a P.E. teacher it's appropriate to function in units that are only a few weeks long before switching to something else. Okay I'm done with that joke, and that attitude.
The best time to start a diet is tomorrow. No more food for me tonight, and a healthy weekend ahead. Let's see how it goes. SMART goal number one: Keep under 2,000 calories and burn 300 through activity tomorrow. SMART goal number two: Wake up before 8am on the weekends. And so on.
Peace,
MCSM
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