Running Chatter: Version MMX

I threw a tantrum.

There.  I said it.  I did it.  I threw an all out tantrum.  An angry, frustrated, fist clenched, ears steaming tantrum. To my credit, I didn’t lay down on the floor with my hands and feet flailing up and down, while screaming at the top of my lungs.  (I do have my dignity to maintain.)  However, you could still call it a tantrum.

Let me back up just a bit and bring up Mr. Tony Horton for the 3rd time in this blogs history.  Bear with me, okay?

A few weeks ago, I wrote about my venture into the land of Tony Horton’s P90x3 when, once again, I found my ailing body injured from running.  I am  was admittedly a runner-snob who believed most certainly there is no better form of full body, fulfilling, life-filling workout than a good run.

Enter, Tony Horton.

Let me preface this by saying that Chad and I have enjoyed  endured Mr. Horton’s programs off and on at various stages over the last five years.  Usually, we dust off his DVD’s during the winter when it’s too cold to run outside, or like right now, when I’m injured and need an alternative means of maintaining my sanity.

Each time we do one of these workouts, my pride takes a hit and the runner snob in me is confronted with a whole new world (and numerous muscles) that I never knew existed.  I’ve learned to enjoy the variety he offers from The Warrior to Yoga and from Triometrics to CVX and everything in between.  Well, everything but MMX.

I. hate. MMX.

Through the years when I saw MMX on the schedule I issued a bit fat SEE YA! and found my way out of the room.

What is MMX, you ask?  Well, according to this review , MMX is a “heart-pumping, adrenaline-rushing feast of jabs, kicks, crosses, hooks, sprawls, knees, and elbows”.  In short, mixed martial arts.

Friends, I’m a runner, not a fighter.

I remember the very first time I tried the MMX routine–five years ago.  Tony called out a quick jab, cross, elbow, sprawl, uppercut, jab, sprawl and I was done.

It was just too much.  He might as well have been speaking in French.  I tried to follow along the best I could, but only ended up with high blood pressure as a direct result of MMX-frustration.  I vowed to never do MMX again.

Fast forward to last week, when, I decided I need to conquer this bad boy so I could wear my MMX badge with pride.  (Not a real badge, but you get my point.)  Anyway, Chad forewarned me, just take your time and relax so you can understand the moves.  We can pause so you can get them. 

I was an enthusiastic participant during the four minute warm up.  Jumping up and down and encouraging Charlie to join us and to ‘not give up’ when he got frustrated.  I was all smiles and oh, so confident that this time, I was going to get it.

Tony called out his first move, jab, jab, cross, right.  
Boom.  I was done.  That’s when my tantrum began.

 I don’t know what he’s saying.  I have no clue what I’m doing.  I’m not going to get this. The ever patient Chad was encouraging and hit pause and attempted to explain exactly what we needed to do.  We moved forward and the next move was the same.  Tantrum, patient Chad, pause button, go, stop, tantrum, patient Chad, pause, go, tantrum. . . Chad’s attempt at encouragement, I think you will really like this workout once you get it. . . tantrum.

Stop.

Of course, I’m a good Mom and Charlie was watching this entire debacle and my tirade that went something like, this is ridiculous, I can’t even break a sweat when we have to pause to try to understand the moves.  I am so over this, I might as well just jump on the treadmill and not waste an hour trying to understand this terrible workout.
This probably would have been a good time to break out my “Just because things are hard you shouldn’t give up.” lecture for Charlie who was playing with a ball at the back of the basement. Instead, Chad endured my tantrum and we took a break so I could put the kids to bed.  (No, doubt the kids were happy to be free of this god-forsaken scene.)

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Twenty minutes later we began again and things went much the same.  My frustrated rants, Chad’s patient waiting, more frustration which I somehow blamed on Chad and Tony Horton and his minions who did each move effortlessly.  If I would have allowed the voices in the room to drown out my rants I might have heard, don’t worry, you won’t get this right away, but you will in time.  Give it a chance and you will reap the benefits.
 
An hour later, we completed the 30 minute workout and joked about how funny it would be to put a video camera in the basement while we floundered our way through this routine.  I think Chad really wants evidence of my not-so-chill side.

I went to bed that night with my head hung in shame, knowing I had not earned the elusive MMX badge. While I laid awake the words upper cut, elbow, sprawl, jab, cross, and over the top, danced through my head.  

I didn’t want to lose.  I hate losing.

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I woke early the following morning with a feeling of determination.  I changed into my clothes and shoes and made my way through the dark, quiet house and marched back down to the basement where I had been demoralized the evening before.  Just as we had the night before, I pushed “Play” on the MMX workout and easily made it through the warm up.  Next, to my surprise, I made it through the first set of moves, and then the next set of moves, and then the next and the next and the next.  Before I knew it, 30 minutes of MMX was under my belt and I immediately sent Chad an email which likely made his morning. . .

I finished the MMX workout without pausing it.  What a great workout!!!

The words are never said, but we both know it.  This is a victory for Chad.  An, I-told-you-so moment, without actually saying it.  (Chad’s far too smart to actually say it.)

The moral of the story?  (There are many.)

Don’t give up.
If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again.
Be patient.
Don’t be afraid to laugh at yourself. (Or, at least, enjoy laughing at me.)
Oh, and most importantly, tantrums aren’t only for three year olds.

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And if by any miracle you have stuck around this long, just a little of my Running Chatter for your Thursday. . .

1.  Amen

Last week after sitting down for a meal, Chanelle had a very insightful question.

“Why do we say ‘Amen’ after we pray?  Why can’t we say A-Woman?”

Yep, she’s my girl.

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2.  Taza
I think it’s very important that we document our first year with our youngest family member.

I think a good word to describe her is Patient.

Yep, She’s patient.

And sweet.

And fun.

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3.  Basketball
Charlie, Chanelle and Meadow pooled money they got from my Grandparents for Christmas and invested in what has turned into our nightly entertainment.

I suspect many (or every) night will be spent around this hoop.

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4.  I married a Landscaper

Some kids play on play sets. . .

. . . our kids chill in dump trucks.

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5.  Snow

It snowed this week.

I hope not to take another picture in snow until next November.

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6.  Travel

Speaking of snow. . . I am escaping it later this week to go visit my good friend, Two Pretzels, in Mexico. I am so excited to go see her and spend time with a few great friends from college for a few days.

In truth, though?  A trip like this is so far out of my comfort zone and leaving my own little family for a few days is harder than it rationally should be.  (I deal in the irrational 50% of the time.)

I have never done good-byes (or even see you later’s) very well.  But this is the thing. . . when Charlie and Chanelle asked me the other day why I am going, my answer was this:

Because I’m afraid to go.  

This has become a way of life for me and one of the biggest things I hope to teach my kids.  It’s okay to be scared. . .

My MIL makes the most awesome hats for my girls

. . . sometimes we just have to do things in spite of our fear.

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7.  Thank You

I want to express my sincerest gratitude to each of you who commented, emailed and communicated encouragement after my last post.  Thank you for taking time to write and support my little corner of the web.  I am still finding my footing, and appreciate each of you for helping me to get my feet toward the pavement.

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8.  And if my a BIG miracle, anyone is still reading. . . 
. . . this weekend will mark 5 years since losing my Mom.  I will be back this weekend with some thoughts about that.

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Have a lovely Thursday. . .

Chatter, Out.