A weekend for the record books

As a child I was transfixed with the Guinness Book of World Records. Back in the days before the Internet (as much as it pains me to admit that) the records were available in a book; a book I would check out regularly at the school library. I would flip through it and gawk at the world's tallest man, those nasty long fingernails, marvel at how someone could hold their breath so long or traipse across a rope so high.

I feel like I've set plenty of records since, though I haven't verified them with Guiness: the oldest sports bra; the longest time between getting wet clothes from washing machine to dryer; the number of times a cup of coffee can be reheated in the microwave before finally tossing out in the sink.

As of yesterday I made the official record book as part of the largest group cycling class. This "Ride of a Life Time," organized by Life Time Fitness was held at the Target Center in Minneapolis. All--all!--I had to do was take a two-hour spin class with 1,052 people.

Special thanks to triathlete extraordinaire Cathy Yndestad for the photos.

What made setting that record difficult was the record I set the day before. I managed to hang clean 90 lbs, up from a previous lift of 75 lbs. A special shout out to Tom M. for explaining the physics of Olympic lifting and his patience with someone who has difficulty grasping physics and to Ryan who put up the challenge at Cross Fit on Saturday and shouted, "The answer is yes!" when I stood staring at the 75 lb. bar wondering if I could, indeed lift more.

So, as you can probably tell by now, that felt pretty awesome. I wrote it down in my calendar, in the same way I try to note other significant details that happen. Having a record of a personal record is a nice way to remind yourself of what is possible but also it's a challenge: records are meant to be broken.

I've decided to buy my kids a small journal they can turn into their Personal Book of World Records, something they can start now and keep forever; something they can flip through, like I did back on the school playground, to admire their accomplishments and dream about what they want to take on next. I think we all need our own Book of World Records. Do you have yours yet?

I have one more item to add to mine: MOST SORE EVER!