Dang, I haven’t posted in a while. I promised myself when I started this blog that I would post every week, and multiple times per week when I had the writing flow. But life is life and here I am posting for the first time in a month.
It’s after midnight here in Colorado. The girls are sleeping. My husband is sleeping. But there’s a heat wave and a thunderstorm approaching and my mind is going a million miles per hour. So I came downstairs to write.
This summer has been a whirlwind so far. At the end of June, I traveled to Orlando to attend a blogging seminar and came away with some amazing ways to make this blog better. I’ve dedicated much of the month of July to improving my SEO and backend menus and categories to make future publishing a breeze.
A couple of weeks later, I traveled with my girls to my hometown outside of Chicago to visit friends and family. While I was gone, my husband helped establish MamaLifts as an LLC and set up my accounting should I ever earn a dime off of this site.
I’ve been participating in blogging groups to learn all I can about the audience I hope to reach. I’ve learned about video and growing my social media presence. I’ve listened to hours and hours of podcasts on topics ranging from affiliate marketing to interviews with Arnold Schwarzeneggerand Jerzy Gregorek.
But mostly I’ve been planning. Planning out my next moves with this blog, my training, and my kids.
Well, beloved readers, my first Oly competition is officially in the books, and, man, was it a doozy.
Let’s back up before dissecting the events of the day.
I’ve never been a huge fan of competing. In high school, I DQ’ed my entire relay team in my first swim meet by falling off the block before the buzzer sounded. When I switched to diving, I mixed up my reverse and reverse flip dives. When I was into climbing, I actively avoided gym competitions and never really pushed myself beyond 5.10 status (pretty mediocre for how many years I put in), but it was all about the experience, man.
My first lifting competition is two weeks away and this week has been a roller coaster, but what week with kids isn’t? We had doctors appointments for both girls with shots and fevers resulting; my youngest is consistently slept through the night, but my oldest has started fighting her bedtime; and I realized there are two weeks before I lift in front of a crowd of people all of whom are stronger and have more experience in the world of weightlifting than me. To say I feel a little out of my league is an understatement.
One month. I have one month left to prepare for the Olympic Day weightlifting competition that I signed up for in a desperate attempt to motivate myself to get back into the gym after having my second baby in two years.
So far, it’s going as good as can be expected. I have a lot of technique to work on and each week I make small, but purposeful changes that I hope will get me to the heavier weights. Right now, I’m hoping to nab a 90-pound snatch and a 110-pound clean and jerk. That may be a bit out of my reach right now, but we will see in a month.