I spent nearly four weeks, four glorious weeks, with my family. First I went to Arizona for Sistercation and had time with the people who have known me longer than anybody else on the planet. We laughed and shopped and laughed and traveled and laughed and museumed. Mostly we laughed together.

Then I went to Ohio and visited my son and his family. More laughter, more shopping, more traveling, and mostly loving every minute together.

I loved my vacation. I’m not all that fond of flying – it makes me nervous and cranky. I’m not fond of hours and hours in the car, either. It doesn’t make me that nervous, but it’s boring as hell and makes me cranky. There is a pattern there. Lots of things make me cranky. I’m a cranky old lady.

So I flew around the country and was encased in a car for twelve hours. The other price I paid for this wondrous and much-loved vacation was four weeks away from the gym. I did some stuff while I was away, but nothing at all like a CrossFit WOD.

I came back to two named WODs and managed to get through those. Monday’s WOD was overhead squats and over the bar burpees. Killed my legs on that one even though I cut the reps way back. But I had a massage on Tuesday and managed to hobble into the box again today.

Today’s WOD as written:
Strict pull-ups

3 x 10
12 minute AMRAP
3 deadlifts 315/225
9 box jumps 24/20

I’m still trying to get back into the swing of things. So although the weight on the deadlift was supposed to be heavy, I stuck at 93#. I did my HSPU from a box to one mat. I did step-ups onto the same 20” box.

I got a respectable score. Nothing great, but not horrible. But I’m unhappy with it. I’m always unhappy with my score. I work so very hard and I have come an enormous distance. It took me weeks to deadlift 42# and I was lightening my lift today with 93# because I’m just coming back from vacation. My scaled HSPUs were executed well (except by the fourth round, my knees were slipping from all the “glow” involved in working out in South Carolina in the summer).

But I’m unhappy with myself. I don’t know why or what to do to realize that I’m freaking awesome. I can say the words, but I can’t feel the awesome. I only feel the failure. The failure of not being as strong or flexible or possess the endurance I wish to have. Being old.

Most women my age are knitting. While I can knit, too, I do this weightlifting stuff. But I never feel like I’m doing enough. Kim has listened to my doubts for four years now; she is a saint. And no matter how much I improve; I never feel “enough” to be happy.

I realize that this is a process and I’m not looking for complacency. There will always be a higher weight to move and I will never be the person to move it. But I honestly don’t know what I’m supposed to be able to achieve and how I will know when I’m to a place that is truly awesome instead of a atta girl pat on the head sort of whoop dee do thing. I don’t know what my expectations are.

I’m the best old fart at my box simply by the fact of being the only one. I’m sure everyone’s heart rate is way over mid-160s on these WODs, but I’m the one who has a cardiologist who has put that type of cap on my exertion. That means I should get a pass, right? But how much of a pass do I allow myself? When do I know that I’m approaching real awesome and not some self-induced lying awesome?

Why can’t I be happy with everything I’ve accomplished? I’m never happy with my performance. It’s slow and light and even with all the scaling in the world, a score has to go on the board that is, in a raw number format, pitiful. I know that is part of my problem. Scoring.

As I was watching my heart rate stay too high despite box breathing today, I had to keep telling myself that the score was unimportant and what mattered was that I was working really hard and doing my best. Do your best. Isn’t that what they say to the less bright kids in school? “Just do your best!” And here I am, doing my best and it isn’t nearly good enough.

I want to be better. I’m betting Rich Froning and Annie Thorisdottir want to be better, too. It’s what we do; we work hard to get better. I just wish I could feel like I was good enough now.