Sharing this post from my friend, Jennifer, about her 5k this weekend. Read below and join in the fun!
Ladies and gentlemen, I’m here to challenge you! That’s right, YOU! I want you to get out your phone, pull your planner from your purse, go to the calendar on the wall of your office. Now, pull out a pencil, a pen, a marker or poise your finger over your screen to mark June 11 […]
via Makeshift 5k: My Challenge For You — Stellar Fashion & Fitness
My friend, Javacia, recently had her birthday party at SOL Dance Experience. I’ve written about SOL before and I enjoy it every time I go, but this time was even better than usual.
If you aren’t sure what SOL is, I’ll give a brief recap: it’s the most amazing dance party you’ve ever been to and you’re the best dancer there. SOL is a dance experience like none other where women gather in a room, turn the lights down low (off!), turn the music up high (loud!), and dance like no one is watching (because no one is!). There are small “fireflies” on the floor to help you stay in the same place in the room so you all don’t dance into each other. SOL is also one of the presenting sponsors of the next Birmingham Dance Walk on 3/20 so we’re total fangirls of this place!
Since it was a private birthday party, Javacia was able to ask for all her favorite songs. Laura, the creator of SOL, then took her list and created a great dance track for the evening from it. From Beyonce to Missy Elliott to Drake and lots more in between, fifteen of Javacia’s gals gathered around her, dancing, clapping, and singing to the music. When “In Da Club” came on, we all spontaneously (yet perfectly in sync) sang, “Go, shawty, it’s your birthday, we gonna party like it’s your birthday, we gonna sip Bacardi like it’s your birthday….” at the top of our lungs to her. It was PERFECT! On the last song of the night Laura presented Javacia with a glow-in-the-dark birthday crown and we circled around her and celebrated all the love and light and strength that she is.
I go to SOL as much as I can and each time it’s a new experience, full of women, bonding, yelling, and cardio. But this was different. We were all there for Javacia and the energy was palpable. I have never danced so hard at SOL (and I learned even more about Javacia’s awesome musical taste and met some of her other amazing friends). It was the perfect dance party and we all left exclaiming how much fun it was and trying to figure out whose birthday was next so we could do it again soon.
Now the best part: thanks to Laura and SOL Dance Experience I am giving one lucky reader the chance to win your own private dance club for a night! You and 15 of your closest friends will experience your own dance party with myself and Laura, picking out your perfect playlist before the event, celebrating anything you want to! Maybe you just finished a 5k, half marathon or marathon. Maybe you passed that extremely hard exam. Maybe you recently had a huge win at work. Maybe it’s your birthday! Whatever the reason, come celebrate with your own private dance party. You can enter below in the Rafflecopter box and a winner will be chosen on March 14th*. If you’ve never experienced SOL this is a great way to test drive it and share the experience with some of your favorite ladies. I promise you will be talking about how much fun it was once the lights come up.
*This prize is valued at $150. This prize is good for one 1-hour SOL session for yourself and 15 of your friends, led by Laura Gaines of SOL Dance Experience. The winner will coordinate with Laura on the date and location and then we’ll help you create an event invitation to share with your friends and DANCE THE NIGHT AWAY!
Don’t do it.
There you go – that’s all you need to know.
I’m kidding! (sorta)
Recently I went my first kickboxing class thanks to a Groupon I couldn’t pass up. “What a great way to try something new!” I said. “What a cheap way to try something I’ve always wanted to do,” I said. Clearly, I was out of my mind.
My friend, Amanda, also purchased the Groupon because surely we wouldn’t both die together on the same day at the same time, right? Surely not! We shared nervous texts the entire week leading up to our first class. The day of we both arrived pretty early to check it out and quickly slip out if we wanted. My nervousness level was much higher than hers (shocker!) and she talked me into staying even though there were people all over the floor passed out and the windows were, conveniently, all fogged up from either the heat coming off the people or chloroform. I’m not sure which.
The lady showed us around to the lackluster locker room, but it wasn’t a deal breaker; I was here to kick some booty, not worry about how pretty the decor was. We got changed and took our place on the mat. We looked like broken seals trying to get our free boxing gloves on ourselves and eventually helped each other so we could take some pictures proving we really went.
“Alright, let’s warm up!” the instructor yelled. Ok, let’s do this. Whatcha got? TWENTY MINUTES OF BURPEES, PLANKS, SQUATS, RUNNING, AND OTHER HORRENDOUS THINGS LATER, it was time to “start.” Are you kidding me? This out-of-shape girl was already on the floor, panting, pouring sweat, and trying not to hurl. The sweet 60-year-old lady behind me assured me that was the “hardest part.” Ok, that’s fine. I’ll take it. Too bad I could no longer lift my arms or my legs to do the fun part. I kid you not. The instructor came by to teach Amanda and I how to jab, hook, and round house, but I was so gassed from the warm up that I just bopped, tapped, and shuffled before falling to the floor in a heaping mess. Wait! I can do this! Back up I go….a bop here, a tap there. Again, on the floor. Eventually, I had to leave the mat and let Amanda spar with the instructor. I was too busy heaving up my lunch in the bathroom.
I’m sure it was because I got overheated or something, but it was horrid. HORRID. Amanda did a fantastic job though, and I am proud of her! I WILL be going back (I paid good money for that!), but will be sure to tell them that I know my limits and if I need to sit one out, I’m going to. I will say that the instructors that night were very kind whenever I did have to stop or sit down and catch my breath. While they do want you to try your hardest and they do like to push, they did not keep after me and checked on me regularly to see if I needed anything. When the girl who showed us around in the beginning said to make sure we made it to the bathroom if we got sick, and not to do it on the mat, I took it with a grain of salt. I mean, we were kickboxing for Pete’s sake. Never again will I be so blase about vomit advice.
Have you ever been kickboxing? What did you think of it?
The title pretty much sums it up so that’s all there is to this post.
KIDDING! But that is what basically happened last night during the Foam Glow 5k at Talladega Superspeedway. Check me out trying to tell myself beforehand that I dance a few times a week (for fitness) and swim, so I can handle a measly 3.26 miles with no problem. HA!
I didn’t tell anyone about registering or going to the 5k in case I chickened out or, quite honestly, didn’t finish. I have amazing friends who run 5ks just for fun like Jennifer and Javacia and then other friends like Tanya and Mia who are beasts running marathons and ultra trail courses. They’re crazy, but inspiring. So, I kept my 5k a secret because I didn’t think it would be a big deal. Boy, was I wrong!
I have plantar fasciitis in my right foot so knew going in that it would be difficult; it’s what derailed me on last December’s Mustache Dache and I didn’t finish. But my heel felt ok (not great, but bearable), and I wanted to give it a try. I mainly went to glow in the dark (who wouldn’t???), but knew the exercise would be great for me. My husband did it with me and I am so thankful for that. I started off ok, slowly jogging for a bit at the beginning and then transitioning into a walk soon after.
The course was on the outside of the race track itself, going around the entire oval, and I never thought it would end. Every time I covered a distance, there was more stretched out in front of me. Then the thoughts started coming: “I could have sworn they said there would be a water stop 1/2 way?” “Surely we’ve gone over halfway and they just forgot it.” People around me were starting to murmur about a water stop. I stopped to rest and stretch my lower back which was tightening into a knot. Breathe, stretch, breathe. Ok, let’s go!
Two minutes later, ouch. I need to stop again. In my head: “WHERE IS THE WATER? WILL THIS NEVER END? Where are we? Why is it so hot?” Keep in mind, we had brought water with us so I wasn’t thirsty – just looking for that benchmark. Ok, let’s get up and keep going!
Wait, I need to stop again. Head: “WHERE, FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THINGS HOLY, IS THE WATER STOP? DID WE MISS IT? I think they forgot it. Surely we’re at least 2/3 of the way done by now.” I quit. I can’t do this anymore. I’m done. Here come the tears. “Are you ok?” from passersby as I sit on the grass and try to blend in the darkness. “Yes, I’m fine, thank you” while trying to hide my face and tears behind the giant Powerade Zero bottle. Safety truck guy comes over, “Are you ok?” Yes, I’m ok. “The ambulance is right down there and will be here shortly if you just want to wait on that.” Hubby: “We can wait for it if you want.” Bless him! Thank you for understanding and offering. No, I got this. Give me a second. Ok, let’s go!
Tears streaming down my face as I walk, limping, legs are jello and arms are shaking. “WHY IS THERE MORE FOAM? TAKE YOUR FOAM AND SHOVE IT UP Y….WHERE IS THE WATER STATION??” Another stop. Another cry. Another wipe of the tears and we’re off. I did that quite a few times before…..
LOOK! LAND HO! WATER! “Do you want water?” asks hubby. No I don’t want water! I just wanted to see the stupid thing! Wait, what? You mean we have ONLY GONE HALFWAY? Another stop on the side, more tears because I quit. I’m done. I can’t do anymore. I’m only halfway? I hate this. No more. “There’s an ambulance over there, let’s just make it there and you can ride back,” says hubby. Thinking about it. Debating in my head. Resting. Breathing. Trying to get my heart rate down to a non-newborn level. No, keep going. “Ok, let’s go,” (much less enthusiastic).
The rest of the “race” was a blur with people flying by on my left and right, cracks in the asphalt to watch for in the dark, music wafting here and there from somewhere, hubby constantly checking on me and stopping with me every few minutes because I “just can’t go anymore.” I think there were probably 2 more hours of that – I have no idea. Time and space were foreign to me by then. I was drenched, overheated, beet red, shaking limbs and body, couldn’t get enough oxygen in no matter how hard I tried, and my heart rate was off the charts. (I’m sure all of that is exaggerated somewhat, but the beet red face is completely true – picture at the bottom.)
I see spotlights. I hear music. It looks like a party, but I could be hallucinating in this pitch black desert. Headlights. People are leaving the track. Good riddance! You talk too much for those of us trying to keep our lungs in our chest. And the smoking DURING the race that I inhaled as you went by? I wanted to kill you.
The trucks are coming up behind us. The ambulance is passing us. OH MY GAWWW, I’M LAST! I DON’T WANNA BE LAST! But I’m doing it. I think I can make it. SO WHAT IF I’M LAST? I DID IT! Well not yet, but I’m going to try. Rounding the last turn, come around to the party, people are still walking between the cones. WHY ARE WE STILL WALKING? WILL THIS NEVER END? OMG, WHERE IS THE FREAKIN’ FINISH LINE? “Right there, honey. See it?” Oh, where all the lights are flashing and people are taking selfies. Ok. I can do that. A….few….more…..steps. BOOM. The earth shakes as I pass out. On the ground. And I wasn’t last (not that it matters, but seriously that was a secret goal of mine).
I have to give hubby MAJOR kudos for going with me, talking me through it, putting up with my tears, letting me hang off his back and shoulder when I could barely walk, and being there for anything and everything I needed. Thank you, baby!
I’m doing the Mustache Dache in December with a group. I’ll start properly training now so maybe I won’t cry as much during that race. 🙂 The point of the story, kids: Find someone who will let you hang on to them during a 5k and don’t ever let go!
