Rollin' on the River

“We do not recommend tubing barefoot”, shared the driver from BarefootTubing who was dropping us off where we were starting our river tubing adventure. Something seemed inconsistent about his comment, given the name of the company he worked for. But after chastising me mercilessly, he went right into showing us how to safely navigate the river so I listened carefully through my tears of bare feet induced shame.

“Stay out of the trees and brush along the banks. Help your buddies if they get stuck in the trees and brush along the bank.” More inconsistencies. I decided I could forgive him the inconsistencies if he made me feel like we would be safe…

“9 out of 10 tubers survive the rapids so best to determine early on the one who won’t make it so you can enjoy the rest of your ride.” The way he looked squarely at me when he said “the one” sent chills up my spine. He was nice though and threw me into the river first, presumably to give me a head start. As he ran toward the van to leave, I yelled from the swirling, deep water, “Can I have my tube now??!... Please?!?!”

Ten intrepid explorers  took to tubes on the Weber River for a little cool water fun on a hot July day. Little did we know that by the time 3 hours passed, we would each have fodder for introspective moments for years to come. None of us had ever been on this river before and only a handful had ever river-tubed before. When the van pulled into the drop off parking lot, the driver gave us two options to get in the river.

“This lower spot is called Peace, Love and Wimpiness Landing”, he told us in a demeaning and disgusted voice. I raised my hand high and told him I LIKED this spot. He ignored me and drove a couple of hundred yards past an ambulance, some guys in scuba gear holding heavy looking black bags and a couple of search and rescue vans with several red river tubes (just like ours!) strapped to the top and said with a definite upswing in his voice, “And this spot is just above the rapids called Mayhem, Death and Dismemberment. This is where you get in.”    

“What about the first choice…” I whimpered as he threw the tubes to the riverbank. He must have liked me cause he handed me a special life vest with the word “Expendable” on the back. Must be a local sports team.  Go Expendables!!

Some in our group were obviously more value-oriented than others. The trip was supposed to take 2 hours, but a few of us determined quickly that if we got caught in the bushes and tree branches along the sides of the river and aimed for the shallow rock beds, we could easily add another hour to our trip, obviously getting more for our money! Ben was especially adept at hitting the sand banks and shallow spots just right, especially in swift moving water that would not allow him to actually stand up and walk past the shallow section without being knocked down.  And Penny and Bobbi were sure they were in remote-controlled tubes and some deranged individual from the tubing company was purposely aiming them from the bushes on one side of the river and then to the trees on the other side!

We shared the river with rafters and kayakers who seemed to really enjoy the entertainment we provided for them.  One tuber, who asked to remain anonymous, got caught in some branches while a group of about 20 rafters watched from about 15 feet away. In impressive and graceful slow motion action, Bobbi, er… I mean the anonymous tuber, had the river catch her tangled tube and throw her upside down in a Weber River smackdown! She received a standing ovation for her show!

Bored with the path of least resistance, Penny decided to attack a log/rock jam head on rather than take the more common route around it. Recognizing a damsel in distress, Ben came to the rescue and found himself in trouble as well. Several of us floated by about that time and they yelled for us over the sound of the rushing water, but we were having a lot of fun and pretended not to hear them (My mind actually went back to a point/counterpoint scene in a favorite movie from long ago – “They rented the tubes… They knew what they were getting into… I say, let ‘em drown!!”).  Finally after some underwater heroics, Ben decided his tube and one of his flip flops was weighing him down so he set them free. Penny was jealous about the underwater games that Ben had been playing so she followed suit, but unlike Ben, opted for keeping her tube, though she threw Ben one of her flip flops as she floated away. So Ben headed off, looking for a ride back, wearing one size 14 men’s flip flop and one size 2 women’s flip flop…

I was smelling the sweet bbq aroma from a camp along the river bank when I almost crashed into Bobbi who was holding onto her tube and a log in strong swift rapids. I worked to get to the shore side of the log and pulled my tube out to help her out from the other side. As I was crossing some rocks, a big old frog hopped from near my feet. He was a beautiful green frog with light green and red lines and so I yelled at Bobbi, “Look at the frog!” She was about 8 feet from me and didn’t hear me over the noise of the rapids. I was about to yell it louder, but as I faced her direction, I could see the look of determination in her eyes as well as the secondary (but more important) look that said **what are you doing just standing there you slow motion huffyman idiot dude** from this person valiantly fighting to keep herself upright in chest deep fast moving and relentless water…  I made the decision to help Bobbi rather than continue to play with the frog. I think the decision was the right one, but I still miss my frog friend.

I was enjoying a calm stretch of river and figuring out ways to solve the global warming crisis with just a small sailboat and a couple of rolls of colored duct tape when I saw a small rapid coming up on the far side. It was just one rock making whitewater and I worked really hard to get in position to float over it. As I hit it, the tube caught the rock wrong and the water rushed over me and kind of rolled me sideways and after dunking my head in the water I was able to get the tube flipped up on the correct side again. The only rock in this section of the river and it almost threw me! As I looked around to make sure no one had seen my little exercise in ineptitude, a little girl sitting with her family on the shore held up a sign that read 3.5. Humpff!! At least her brother gave me a 5!

At the end of the journey, you have to stay RIGHT to get out at the right place. Presumably, if you missed it, you would end up somewhere in the Great Salt Lake. It is said that the brine shrimp feed off the remains of tubers who miss the exit point. So Braiden, the son of Kathy, decided it looked more interesting on the LEFT side of the river while his mom watched from the shore. As he thought about video games and food and ice cream (which is not technically a food, more of a life blood kinda thing) and brine shrimp feeding on his remains, he decided that in this case, the road less travelled was the WRONG one to be on.

“Mom!!!! Save me!!!!!”

Kathy, the loving mom, immediately went into action… “Hmmm, Braiden took a long time getting out of bed this morning and made us late to the tubing event… On the other hand, he is very helpful when it comes to making chocolate chip cookies…

“Moooooom!!!  Come get me!!!!”

With gusto, Kathy jumped in and swam to her son, pulling him from the grasp of the waiting brine shrimp. It was as dramatic a rescue as has been witnessed by mortal man…

After everyone safely returned, by water or by unequally sandalled feet, we stopped to eat in Morgan UT where various individual and group adventures were shared. We were entertained as Braiden asked questions of Ben like, “What was the funniest time that you flipped someone off?” Kathy could be seen rethinking her decision to pull her son to safety. Ben’s rules of communicating with women, with full imitations of the woman’s side, were enlightening and touching. We learned that innocent little Becky has not only shown the bird to other drivers in her day, but “hung it out the window!” which caused Kathy to drink soda down the wrong tube… And most of all we learned that the many individual adventure stories of the day turned into a wonderful shared adventure for 10 friends, all of whom had not known at least one person in the group before today. It was a great day for being alive!

Barefoot note: There may have been a little exaggeration or possible outright untruthnicity used in regards to the employees of Barefoot Tubing. In reality, the driver was extremely friendly and informative and the experience was awesome. The tubes were terrific and kept one off the rocks and I will use them again in the future. For the sake of clearing the air, we were indeed given a choice of two locations to let in – one below the rapids and one above. Julie was the one who insisted we go through the wild rapids and the rest of us just went along for fear of upsetting her! There, I said what no one else was willing to. J

Post barefootnote: The driver from Barefoot Tubing really did tell me that they do not recommend tubing while barefoot!  

My Testimonial – May 30, 2012

Wayne Crabtree

I was asked to write some thoughts about this workout program I just went through and I’m kinda at a loss. How does one describe a period of time that changes the definition of self. The idea of discovering things about myself that 48 years had not taught me creates an energy that I find hard to put into words. Here’s my best shot…

One of my very first concerns was the 6 am start time 3 days a week. I don’t mind mornings, but waking up at 5:24am on a regular basis seemed like a hard thing. I decided early on that I can do hard things. And I did. I still don’t like waking that early, but after 3 months of doing it, I know it’s worth it. And might that be a smile on my face as I reach for the alarm clock? Nope… waking this early is still hard.

For this program, before and after measurements were taken as well as some fitness benchmarks. Oh and the pictures…

“Please come out from behind the couch, Huffyman”, they politely pleaded.   

“Can’t you just accept this self-portrait I did with crayon? It’s recent!”

“Shurrrrrre”, they said. “Stand over by the wall and show it to us…” Click! Dang. Fell for the oldest trick in the book.

Fast forward 3 months. Time for the ‘after’ pictures.  A new physique, and new outlook on life; one might say a completely new me…

“Please come out from behind the couch, Huffyman…”

In addition to the photos and measurements, there were the benchmarks… I gave the 3 tests all I had. I lifted myself to the Rip:60 straps from the ground, up and down, for a minute, and I felt like my shoulders were on fire. I was taught what a ‘burpee’ was (they could have just called it, ‘your worst nightmare’) and I spent a minute completing enough of them to cause my whole body to shake. Finally the 5 minute VF challenge. Natalie said VF stood for very fun.  But then Natalie gave birth to her second daughter (during this 3 month challenge) while doing burpees and mountain climbers, intermingled with diamond pushups with her feet in the dungeon straps. Serious. 3 minutes into the VF challenge, I realized it stood for vicious fanaticism. I wanted to quit but Chelsea’s cheering kept me going all the way to the end. I had pushed my body to its limits. Recovery didn’t come easy. In fact, I think I was still a little out of breath when I started the ‘after’ benchmark tests earlier this week. I was a little nervous to do the tests again, after they had whipped me so bad before. I again gave all I had. And though I was already feeling great about how far I had come in 3 months, it didn’t hurt to see my burpee number increase by 17%, my 5 minute VF (Vociferously Freaking) challenge increase by a sweet 25% and my rip:60 pull-ups increase by a whopping 44%! The effort wiped me out and I hope to recover by sometime mid-June, but I was so happy about the results of the last 3 months of hard work that I didn’t care!

What can I say that would give proper credit to the support from the others in the class with me. We didn’t often talk – mostly half-smiled and groaned and coughed as we passed each other from one post to another. We shared in the pain and the successes and we laughed together, especially during the cool-downs. For the hour we were together, we shared experiences that changed us from strangers to friends who sweated and strained and shook in front of each other without shame.  I still don’t know the names of all my compatriots, but I know they helped me hour by hour, week by week, to be a better person and I am grateful to each one for that. I hope each knows the inspiration they were to me.

Keeping watch on our form and pushing us every morning to do our very best was Lisa. She is the trainer that I needed to get me to push myself more than I thought was possible. Her ever-present smile while encouraging and correcting kept one going, and pushing, and fighting. Lisa knew what it took to push through these workouts because she has been there herself. We trusted her implicitly and she returned that trust with results. She noted our progress and celebrated the positive changes with us. Though I will say that she seemed to like burpees a little more than I think they deserved.  I’m sure all the trainers were terrific, but Lisa was the one who made me look forward to getting to the gym at 6am. She was the one who got me to hold the V-sit through those last 10 seconds of the tortuous minutes. She was the one who encouraged me to pedal harder, run faster and rotate a little more. Lisa is the best.

So what do I say to sum up 3 months of RapidFit, Rip:60 and a little thing called the Playground that have essentially changed the way I see myself? How’s this?: I feel better about myself than I have in years and I’m not done yet. This program is what I needed at this time in my life to help me find the joy that was hiding in me. How’s that?! Oh, and life? Get ready cause here I come!

Where's Mike?!

Ever since the she-devil caught wind of a certain blog last week, I’ve been worried about the safety of Mike, who I made the mistake of mentioning by name. I wasn't so worried about myself as it would be too obvious for the writer of the exposé to just disappear into thin (or hot) air. But Mike was an unwitting co-conspirator who did not ask to be part of this drama. When we showed up at class last Friday, there was the smile telling us that she always knew we were troublemakers. Little did we know the consequences of bringing her treacherous methods to light. Mike has now been gone for the last 2 classes. Coincidence?! This morning, Lisa coyly asked, while I was struggling through chest flys in the dungeon straps, where Mike was? I told her, “You know where he is…” She laughed joyfully and had me switch to the deltoid fly, as if that would shut me up. It did.

I knew I was in trouble when on Monday, while fighting through a long and excruciating V-sit, the princess of pain started kicking my feet and trying to knock me over. She claimed it was to help us develop more core balancing muscles, but she seemed to delight in it a bit too much for me to believe there was real purpose beyond simple torture. And who named this month’s exercises the Playground?! This is not like any playground I’ve ever run around on! The bike steals my lung capacity, though weirdly, I have to pedal faster and increase the tension to get the same workout lately. And the incline treadmill seems to be a little easier than it was 2 ½ months ago – probably some trick from the she-devil to make us think we are stronger. Every time I want to throw in the towel because something is too hard, there she is, pushing me with that smiling encouragement. Dang her! I think she also messes with time (what power DOESN’T she have?!) because classes seem to go by so fast that I can’t believe it’s over when the pitchfork hits the ending bell. I have to admit that I like this particular trick.

One final note to the unbelievers… After the workout ended today and we were cooling down, the voice came from behind me… “It’s soooo cold in here! We need more heat!!” Understand that we were all sweating and SHE (-devil) was cold. Kind of drives home the point that Lisa is used to a much warmer environment, if you know what I mean. And that brings us back to Mike. Release him, please, and let him return to the morning workouts! I promise we will be more obedient. If you have to take anyone, take the one who likes Burpees so much… You know who she is!

The Devil We Love....

I am drawn to pain. And I value muscle spasms and wheezing. That’s the only explanation I can offer for why I wake at 5:24 AM every Monday, Wednesday and Friday to drive to a nondescript storefront on the west side of Logan where I experience the afore-mentioned pain, muscle spasms and seriously labored wheezing. A sane person wouldn’t do that unless they liked it… right?! And like pledges going through hazing together in a fraternity, the other souls who also seem enticed by pain gather with me in a circle around the devil. Yes, the devil… She smiles the entire time we are warming up, clearly planning and conniving and relishing the thought of discovering new ways to make us cry out and beg for mercy. All the while, she just smiles. The smile that tells us we are in trouble…

Like sleepy sheep, we take our places and follow the orders, which are deceivingly mixed with positive encouragement – encouragement which only exists to keep us going to the next round of torture. Today, Mike and I were discussing (when the she-devil was busy inflicting punishment on someone else) whether Lisa (the she-devil's earthly name) received a bonus for causing someone to pass out. Brave Mike asked the she-devil if this were true and she said no, with a smile, and countered that the bonus came when she caused us to throw up! We KNEW it! We got back to our Rip 60 straps, which clearly could double as dungeon restraints, and did our best to stay in line as to not draw the ire of the ever smiling princess of darkness.

Incline running (21 percent grade!), pushups in straps, pull-ups, flys (wider!), spinning (faster, faster!), V-sits, lunges (lower!), planks, burpees (!!!) and walking on fiery coals (slower!)… It just went on and on and there she was, telling us to go from one to the other, waiting for obvious signs of lethal fatigue before shouting how good we were doing, causing us to lose perspective on reality and push a little harder. Our group has been being tortured like this for more than 8 weeks now. We have seen each other at our worst (Except for Kandy, who I think is a she-devil in training). We feel each other’s pain and we celebrate each round of survival in the midst of the queen of torture. Lisa allows us this little comfort of friendship because she senses that it keeps us pushing, for ourselves as well as for each other. When one of us is missing, we don’t wonder why they didn’t show… We simply wonder what SHE did with them, and if she will allow them back from wherever they were sent. We feel a kinship because we have to for the sake of survival. When we are one, we feel we are strong enough to keep the she-devil at bay. True or not, it is sometimes all we have to hold on to... 

Like powerless drones, we come back each morning knowing what lies before us. I wouldn’t call it willingly because it has become a sick habit. We go to push and be pushed. To feel the searing of our muscles and emptiness of each module in our lungs. To hear the princess of pain tell us our form is really improving… and that we are stronger than we were 8 weeks ago… And to tell us we are looking great. We lap up the encouragement from this smiling enigma of darkness and gain energy from her smile. And we think about the almost 4 weeks we have left of her doling out her ingeniously creative punishments and we wonder… How are we going to get along when it’s over and the she-devil is gone from our mornings? I am going to miss it like crazy.