Adrienne: Tracy’s back! She attended the recent Vienna, Virginia RKC Workshop on Sunday to participate in the “victims training” where RKC candidates are tested on their ability to teach/coach lucky volunteers from the general public in the basic kettlebell drills like the swing and get up. Usually there’s a part where the candidates have to construct a small workout realtime depending on the abilities of their new student. Even though Tracy is VERY familiar with kettlebell exercises etc, it’s great to show up to these events, because you can ALWAYS pick up a new tip, and the RKC system is constantly evolving. It’s a great way to keep in the loop, so when you hear that there’s an RKC workshop coming to your town, check out and RSVP for Sunday—plus you get 20% off all books / dvds / kettlebells /etc. at that time as well (and no shipping fee!)
Tracy: Thanks to Adrienne for asking me to write for her blog a 2nd time—it’s an honor to be asked by someone whose writing, work ethic, and sheer muscular, joyful approach to life I have come to respect greatly!
As I had mentioned in my previous post on GiryaGirl.com, I’ve been on this kettlebell journey in a serious way for about a year now, and in January 2012 it—BAM!!—went up a notch when I sought out a local RKC trainer through the Dragon Door website. I did it as a Christmas gift for my husband (and me 🙂 )—but he ended up with some joint issues, so I’ve been working with “Cruel Jamie” one-on-one since February. She’s been awesome to work with.
When I saw that there was a certification weekend happening in May just about an hour away from us in Virginia, I immediately asked Jamie if we could go and observe—she mentioned then that they always needed “victims” for the Sunday coaching portion of the certification. SWEEEEET. We were in.
It took a while after that conversation for Dragon Door to put out the registration link to sign up for victimhood—and there were some technical glitches (it initially registered me for a victim session in St. Paul, Minnesota)—but once we were sorted out, it was very smooth and well-organized. I got an email confirming my registration, with a PDF of all the registration forms and legal releases I’d need to sign (yes, I know I might get hurt; yes, PLEASE take me to the hospital if I drop a kettlebell on my head; OK, OK, no cameras or videos), plus maps and even photos of the gym and parking lots available to us.
Then I started talking it up in my online communities and at home—have you seen changes in me because of kettlebells? Interested in finding out how it all works? Come get a free lesson! Sundays tend to be a pretty hard sell, unfortunately, and there was a lot going on that weekend—but interestingly, we ended up with some chatter in the Twitter #kettlebell circle about it!
Jamie had done an HKC certification with fellow Virginian Lisa (@workoutmommy), so this was a chance both for those two to reconnect, and for me to meet Lisa, after having been Twitter buds for a while. Plus fellow kettlebell nut Janelle (@PoznaiSebia) from Pittsburgh had talked herself into coming down as well! Unfortunately, she fell sick the night before and was unable to travel so far . . . but lemme tell you, it was an exciting Tweetup in the making!
It didn’t hit me until Sunday morning. I would soon be slinging iron and sweating in front of some of the biggest names in the kettlebell world: Pavel, Du Cane, Neupert. And I started getting iron butterflies . . . OMG, what had I done? But I had committed, and people were showing up because of me, so I couldn’t back out. So I strapped on my workout clothes (including yes! my Girya Girl tee!!) and hit the road.
[Northern Virginia traffic. Remind me, God, why we fled northern Virginia for West Virginia? Thank you. BTW, I tweeted—as I was stuck at a light for. three. entire. cycles—about #ungodlytraffic, then found out it was one of those mega-churches letting out from Sunday services. #oops]
I was (per usual) one of the first to show up, but it didn’t take long for victims to start trooping in. Nicole Du Cane herself (!!) was manning the registration table, and behind her was the Dragon Door merchandise at 20% discount (once we finished our victimhood). So all of us were windowshopping: Bud Jeffries’ “I Will Be Iron”, Dan John’s “Easy Strength”—those were on my list, plus a couple of kettlebells to round out some double sets I needed. And there was my trainer Cruel Jamie, and Lisa, with another friend she’d brought, so it was a happy reunion there. Excited talk began to fill the space—lots of nervous energy.
One thing that struck me over and over—has been part of my experience so far on this journey—is the extraordinary hospitality and generosity of the kettlebell community. All are welcome, and there’s plenty of room at the table. What I’ve seen online in blog posts and tweets for a year was made tangible in that gym lobby crowd: mommies, gym rats, desk jockeys, granddads, college-age—no one’s “in” or “out”, come as you are, there’s a place for you, too. If you’re willing to learn, and to work, there’s nowhere to go but up! It’s a beautiful thing, a very democratic kind of sport. Which is ironic when you think about it . . .
Finally one of the trainers came through to take us back to the gym entrance to begin. We sorted out into groups affiliated with one of the RKC trainers, each of whom worked with a group of candidates–who reflected the same variety as the victims. This was very encouraging to my 40-something self!
After the usual pep talk and list of caveats (let your trainer know if you have injuries—an excellent point!), I was assigned to Salim, a young HKC from New Jersey, very professional and soft-spoken, and who can perhaps be forgiven for assuming that the 10# kettlebell would be sufficient for the likes of me. 🙂 I mentioned that I had been working with a trainer for a few months, but we agreed to keep the bell light, since he was mainly practicing teaching the progression up to the swing: hip hinges, deadlift, squat, then finally the swing itself.
The lesson itself was basically a solid hour of squats and swings, so I probably should be grateful for the lighter bell! He drilled on proper breathing during lifts, watching and correcting me the whole time—drilled on the Turkish Get-up (just as picky as Cruel Jamie!)—then set up a light workout ladder of park-it swings and goblet squats. His RKC Team Leader and Assistants circulated among all the victims, watching and listening to the coaching, providing assistance where needed, commenting and encouraging. (I heard him say, “Great form!” as he walked by during my swings. I’ll take that as a compliment to my trainers!)
Then, almost before I knew it, we were done. We shook hands, and I wished Salim good luck in the final grad workout. He asked to meet my RKC trainer, so I walked him over to the training group where Cruel Jamie had been working, and left them to talk. (Later, I found out from Jamie that Salim “loved working with me” and wondered when I would be coming to a certification myself! Hmmmm . . . )
We had decided to stay and watch the candidates’ final workout, their last “rite of passage” to the RKC. It was one of those simple-but-deadly workouts: 10 swings, 30-second rack, squat, press, repeated “for a while”, according to the trainer. Oh, the groaning, the sweating, the grim faces, the swapping-out for lighter bells (this surprised me a bit). During the squat portion, I could see the head trainers walking the floor, judging, watching, commenting, encouraging, correcting. Pavel was among them. This was serious business.
The trainers started upping the volume. “Three more sets!” They started clapping. “Two more sets!” People started shouting, “RKC! RKC! RKC!!” “Just one more set!” I got goosebumps. The candidates launched everything they had into those bells for that final exhausted press . . . and then, they were done.
Pandemonium. Applause. Tears. And that was just me!! I didn’t know a soul in that room except for a couple of fellow victims, and briefly, a young man whose journey had intersected with mine. But in that moment, I wanted to hug every single sweaty one of them.
I started down this road hoping for the good I have certainly found: profound changes in strength, health of body, mind, and heart. But another very great good I discovered along the way that I did not expect—but that I treasure no less—has been this community, this sense of camaraderie, of family. I was very proud to have played a small part in building the community that day.
If you know of an RKC workshop happening in your area, do not hesitate to volunteer for the Sunday coaching session. They almost always need more volunteers than they get (some trainers had to play as victims), and the benefits go both ways: to the candidates who are so close to their goal they can taste it!! and to you, to see this amazing process and community at work. GO. DO. This is good stuff.
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