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June 2013

What’s In This Kool-Aid?

Holy cow! I’m IN! First workout is under my belt. VERY cool people, and really great trainer who took it easy on me. I still did the work out, but because it was my first one and I have a tournament this weekend, she didn’t have me do heavy weight or all the extra reps on the double jump rope thingies. Though being stubborn I did do extra because I don’t want to ever be a weenie. I now know Annie’s Evil Twin. I’m soaked, and exhausted and I’m not sure my arms work (even my fingers) and I’m happy. Oh, but now I have a goal.

I wanna be bad ass. One woman ¬†in my class was dead-lifting around 220. Her story is so similar to mine. She was also a competitive gymnast, so she has my build and started weight wise about 8 pounds smaller than I am. She’s bad ass. She’s not perfect, but she inspired me. I’m not going for perfect. She’s been doing it less than a year, is strong and 30 pounds lighter. That means she’s lost at least 40 pounds because she gained 10 pounds of muscle her first month. Muscle is good. I love muscle. I love to be strong! My husband doesn’t like skinny girls anyway. He likes muscular legs and a nice butt. I’m working on it honey!!!

Now to start the Zone/block eating plan. I’ve got 3 full months before the wedding in Ireland. Remember the “fat American” thing? I don’t want to be that anymore. It is a horrible stereotype to actually fit. I mean, my husband’s family fits the Irish, (friendly, fun, drink a lot, amazing accent) stereotype, however, that’s different!

I kinda get it people. Pass that Kool-Aid, I’m in.

Oh, Shittake tomorrow…

Tomorrow is my first workout. I was supposed to get two workouts in this week, but I can’t seem to get the second one scheduled. I’ve got a tennis tournament this weekend and we’re in triple digits here. Playing 4.5 singles and I think my ample ass will be handed to me. ūüôā It’s all good. I love being out there, hitting balls and sweating. That is, if I’m not too sore from my first CrossFit workout.

By the way, my friend L went to her first one yesterday and I got a text that simply said, “I’m still alive. Call me.” She reminded me that I need to remember to pace myself. Good advice, that I shall heed. (gulp)

It doesn’t matter how slow I go, I’m still lapping everyone on the couch!

Now What? I’ve bought in.

Welcome to the church of CrossFit. This is not supposed to be a CrossFit blog. This is supposed to be about me and that mangy 50 pounds of monkey that’s hanging around. But truly, I join the CrossFit “family” on Monday. I’m turning into one of them, that willing cult member. I… Can’t…. Resist…. So, now, if you’re still interested, this blog is about me and my monkey doing CrossFit and how it’s working, or not working. Let’s see if that monkey bails.

Elements I

So, we killed it at our Elements class. I know you’re jealous. Admittedly there’s not much to kill at elements. We did a surprising number of deep squats, though unweighted, I obviously brought my own weight.

Today, I hate the down stairs. I’m so laughing at myself because we didn’t even do a workout and my quads are screaming.

Today we worked on deadlift technique, the different presses and a medicine ball clean snatch something or other. I realize that doesn’t sound right on many levels, but is that what it’s called?

Enjoyed seeing some real people coming into class as we were leaving. They seemed friendly. Some of them even looked our age. We made a good choice and Matt is patient, friendly and puts up with me. He took a before picture with my phone for us. We’re not gonna post it until we have an after!

L is so cute. I think she’s going to go home and practice her moves. I, however, am gonna just go with it. Ice bath perhaps? <grin> This is actually kinda fun so far.

[in-ur-shuh]

Newton was a smart cookie (sweet pun!). His law of motion, sometimes called the Law of Inertia states, in very simple terms, that “a body at rest, tends to stay at rest unless acted upon by an outside force. A body in motion tends to stay in motion…”

I admit, it took some effort. One hour before my appointment, I was telling my husband how tired I was and that I really didn’t want to go. Some people might call it whining, but I say I was living Newton’s law. It’s natural, right? And my phone buzzed and this popped up from L.

Timely Reminder

I immediately checked my phone to make sure I hadn’t accidentally butt dialed her because she was obviously ¬†listening to me. Weird.

Inertia has been initiated on this body. I’m not saying that I was at rest because I play tennis, Gaelic football and make a sprint to the fridge on occasion, but today was the day that L and I got the proverbial ball rolling. Today we began our first CrossFit Elements class and wrote the check to prove it. Literally, we actually paid money for the coaching.

I’ve made a goal to be able to do a pull up, not just a kip pull up, ¬†by June 19th of 2014. Did you hear that Universe?

 

 

New Box Report

Brain Juice
Brain Juice

Last I posted, L and I were all ready to dive right in and join the sock cult that is Crossfit. <grin> There was just something that I couldn’t explain that kept me on the fence and kept the urgency I’d been feeling at bay. The day we went to the gym to sign up, we found it closed. It was between class times, so we did what any friends desperate to get in shape and lose weight would do; we headed to our favorite Mexican place ¬†for margaritas, chips and salsa and salad (for good measure). Here, we really dissected our choices.

I finally figured out, well, (you know pomegranate margaritas are brain juice), that what was hanging me up about that particular box, was that I felt like an alien, a ginormous, ancient and hairy (well maybe not the hairy part) alien. The vibe, the age factor was all bugging me for some reason. They were nice enough, but seeing the “gym party” pictures online where they’d rented a party barge, drank copious amounts of alcohol and lounged in bikinis just kinda blew it for me. Not that I have anything against any of those activities, but those are the things I liked to do 20 years ago. I’ve been there, done that and well, I’ve moved on to more grown up pursuits, like drinking margaritas at 2 pm to make important decisions about my fitness box choice. So there we sat. I, completely convinced that the closed box was an omen, and searched the internet for other Crossfit choices. We found one pretty close that featured lots of folks that looked to be about our age. They even had success stories. L turned the iPad around and pointed, “Hey, she looks about like us!” Her after picture, however, was impressive. You go girl! I’ll drink to that.

We slurped our margs and called and made an appointment for later that day. Luckily for us, we decided to NOT sit and drink until then, though we pondered it for awhile.

The new gym made me feel way more at ease. L is setting up our Elements Classes (3 in total, where the other box gave you an hour and threw you into the fire). We’ll start this week. New box, new socks!! Woohoo!

Is It Bad If…

My Sentiments Exactly

So, my friend and I hit the nearest CrossFit ¬†early on Friday morning before I raced to the airport ¬†to fly to San Diego for a Gaelic Football 7’s tournament. Have I mentioned that I’m not real bright? Really? I’m feeling old, fat and desperate, so I run to the crazy-ass cult gym so I won’t chicken out, just before I take my old, fat, out of shape ass all the way to San Diego to play a really intense sport with NO SUBS. ¬†Back to my original question; is it bad if you suspect that it might really be a cult, but you choose to jump in (jiggly midsection and all) with both feet?

I might as well say it loud and proud, “I am not a morning person.” Maybe I’m not quite that old yet. (Oh no! Now I’ve guaranteed that I will be that old early-riser. DAMN, I know I can’t just delete it because I’ve already put it out there to the universe… sigh). L and I showed up, signed waivers and stood nervously watching a class that was already in session. They were all young, and all fit looking. As they did their warm up, I couldn’t help but think, “Just let me get through the warm up… please. I’m sorry for the amusement I’ve ever felt watching old people, ever, especially old, out of shape ones.” God really does have a sense of humor, I believe that. Any thought I’ve ever had in the general realm of, “Wow, why is that so hard for her” or “step away from the cookie” …” is biting me, hard. I’ve learned so much from my youthful and fairly innocent judgemental days, because, well, ¬†here I stand.

Scott introduced himself and to my great relief mixed himself an Advocare Spark drink. Woohoo, Hallalujah and thank the powers that be, I finally relate to something in that gym. I had already had my Spark. I’m pretty damned cool after all, and they’re not gonna make me stop my morning energy drink. Whew. Maybe this isn’t gonna be so bad?

We went through question and answers and my relief that L and I were the only newbies that day came crashing down when a young man showed up and introduced himself as a new guy and then mentioned that he is a personal trainer at a gym in town. Comfort level, now back to about zero. Even the fact that I was the only one out of the three of us that played sports currently, brought me no comfort. L had been training with a trainer for several weeks and dude boy IS a trainer. My friend asked the question that was dancing in both our heads, “Are there any other people our age at this box?” I’ll give him credit, he didn’t lie, or even soften the answer too much when he said bluntly, “Not many.” ¬†Ah, here goes nothing.

Scott took us through the proper form on squats, dips, snatch and dead lifts. We learned that Cross Fitters are known for their crazy knee socks because the dead lifts rub their shins. That made me smile because I totally rock some silly socks. We were an hour in and well, I was ready to go snag my plane when suddenly I realized that we hadn’t done the “work out” he’d promised. But, we just… well, we’ve been picking things up and standing around for an hour and … shit.

We did a wee workout that involved 2 rounds of running, squatting, sit ups and push ups. My sore Achilles screamed at me on the jog, my cookie dough middle got in my way on the sit ups and the push ups and squats just pissed me off because I kept getting distracted and losing count. Then we were done. That was it. The second round of regulars came in and there was one person our age. Yep, she even had some gray hairs, a runner’s phsique and a rock hard body. It was her first session. (SCREAM).

I raced home, grabbed a shower, my cleats and my husband and we hurried to the airport. Well, he hurried. I hobbled and as I started to lower myself to my seat, I realized that my legs were shaky. I had three games to play the next day. Three. Not wise. I survived, but my Achilles injury forced me to play Goalie for the last half of the last game. What a great sport, great group of gals and a bunch of fun Irish people to drink, uh, hang out with. The whole experience really brought home my desire to be back in shape and run those young’ns into the ground.

When we got home, we hit the ground running / hobbling and I never got back to the Cross Fit thing. Honestly, it still scares me a bit, which absolutely makes me angry at the world. I’m an athlete, and rarely in my entire life have I been intimidated by anything physical. Another humorous moment for the guy upstairs?

Thank goodness my friend has such a sparkly disposition. I got a text today saying, “So, we gonna do it? I need an excuse to buy some cool knee socks!” How can I say no to that? We’re walking right into this thing with our eyes open, and we’re doing it for the socks. Is that so bad?

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