Cool.
So open workout 14.1 was announced tonight. Looks like I’m gonna be spending 10 minutes trying to get my first double under. And then 29 more…and if I’m really amazingly lucky, I might get to do a 55 pound snatch or 2…
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Cool.
So open workout 14.1 was announced tonight. Looks like I’m gonna be spending 10 minutes trying to get my first double under. And then 29 more…and if I’m really amazingly lucky, I might get to do a 55 pound snatch or 2…
The time between OMG I’M FREEZING I’LL NEVER BE WARM AGAIN and sweating/shedding clothing is the time it takes me to do 10 shoulder pass-throughs, 10 air squats, and 3 banded pull-ups.
(via fatcrossfitter)
Yup
I did a crazy thing. Now I'm scared shitless.
On being an idiot...
So my whole life I thought I HATED bell peppers. Turns out I only hate the green ones. It's like my whole life was a lie! I've learned I actually kinda love the yellow and red ones.
Not Dead Yet
Hello internet, it’s been awhile. Don’t worry, I’m not dead. Just anemic. No literally, my blood is iron deficient. This is a problem I’ve been living with for 10 years. Most of the time it’s not a big problem cause I likes me some red meat and broccoli. But every once in awhile, maybe once or twice a year, things get weird. The symptoms build slowly. First I get some headaches and think “bummer”. Then I notice myself tilting oddly every once in awhile while I’m just standing around and think “heh, that’s bizarre”. Then things start to get wonky, my brain gets a little fuzzy when I stand up quickly. And then I have an “ahh ha!” Moment and take some supplements and all is right in the world. This time, I dunno how it happened but I didn’t put the pieces together until the dizziness had gone from when I stand up too quickly to almost all the time. So after a quick trip to the doctor to remind me I’m anemic and to learn it had gotten pretty bad I was on a iron supplement regimen and temporarily barred from crossfit.
But I’ll be back at it at 5am Monday morning. Weeeeeeeee
Crossfit Hate
It seems like the web has a new trend everyday. I know I know, brilliant observation. Sherlock would be proud. Yesterday it looked like everyone in the world was working on their split jerk (I was too! Felt like I was one of the cool kids yo!)
Today the interwebs, or maybe just the sites I visit, are full of all kinds of attacks and defenses of crossfit as a fitness program. The hater's arguments basically seem to amount to:
1.Crossfit is dangerous
2.Crossfit is a fad
3.Crossfitters are annoying.
Now admittedly I am a crossfitter, so I'm biased. But nevertheless here are my thoughts:
1. Yeah, it is dangerous. So is everything else in the world that is not done correctly. Run with poor form and you can screw up your knees. Swim without supervision and you could drown. Bike on the open road and you could get hit by a car. etc etc etc, I could go on for days. Part of the beauty of crossfit is the supervision and coaching that goes with it. Every gym I have researched requires a lengthy instruction course series at the beginning of membership before they let you loose in the gym where you are still under the supervision of coaches. Ideally you have experienced coaches who know what they're doing, it's important to vet the gym and its coaches ahead of time. Like you would vet any other fitness program. The same can not be said of the traditional gym where after you fork over your cash you're free to make use of any of the equipment and they don't know or care if you have the proper knowledge or experience for that heavy deadlift you're about to attempt. Or if you're gonna go flying off the back of the treadmill at that high speed you saw on the biggest loser last night. The point is, it's all dangerous if not done correctly. I have not seen or heard any reliable evidence in print or anecdotally of people getting injured doing Crossfit as intended. I'm not saying people don't occaisonally get hurt at the gym. Now I'm part of a pretty large box, so if there is no evidence of this happening frequently around there, I'm pretty sure it's not a real trend. Hey, I'm Queen of Klutzland and I haven't managed to injure myself doing crossfit yet, but I did injure myself in my previous life as a runner. Just saying.
2. Crossfit is indeed popular and gaining momentum every day. This is true, but if your definition of fad means it's going to peak and peter out quickly, well I don't think Crossfit fits that definition. It's experienced strong and exponential growth since it's inception. True, crossfit isn't for everybody. It appeals to a special brand of crazy. So does distance running. Or body building. Or Ironman Triathlons. Or or or or or. The truth of the matter is 98% of crossfitters don't have their hearts set on being the next Rich Froning or Annie Thorisdottir. The vast majority of crossfitters are folks like you and me who train Crossfit to be better at our daily lives. The way crossfit works appeals to us in a way other methodologies do not. So just like I don't see Ironman closing up shop anytime soon, neither do I see Crossfit closing it's hundreds of doors. Still I wonder; if you're not a crossfitter and you're mad at crossfit's existence, WHY DO YOU CARE?
3. Crossfitters are annoying- if you aren't one. So what? I think parent's who post about nothing but their spawn's dubious accomplishments are annoying, cause I don't have and don't want spawn of my own. I also think people who talk about nothing but getting wasted and partying are annoying, cause I'm no longer in that phase of life. And people who are perpetually emotional and angry are also annoying to me, 'cause I'm a robot. So you know what? I adjust the settings on my news feed and I don't visit their websites for the sole purpose of hating on them. It's that easy folks. You're welcome.
So I guess what my arguments amount to are this: Crossfit works for me. I'll do me and you do you, and everyone can be happy, there's no need for the tension.
Hahahaha. I have 3 best friends, as of now they are: 1)Married 2)Getting married in March 3)Newly engaged. Congrats friends!
BLEHK
Burpees not my friend this Monday morning.
Crossfit was full this morning so I came out here for a mood adjustment. To say I woke up on the wrong side of the bed would be understatement. I woke in a grade A world destroying state of rage. Seriously, monuments should have been erected in my honor to appease me in hopes I maybe wouldn't destroy the planet. The people where I live are all kinds of inconsiderate at all hours of the day and night. When I logged on to reserve a spot at crossfit this morning and discovered it was already full a couple egg mcmuffins started to sound real good. Not being able to get in a workout would be perfect rationale to eat my feelings, I mean I tried but the universe did not want to co-operate. Not my fault man. Except that’s total bullshit and we all know it, cause the gym isn’t the only option for a workout.
So I made the much healthier choice to come out here for a 3 mile Sunday stroll. Now I haven’t done any kind of distance since that last half marathon so I had no idea how this was gonna go. I popped in the ear buds, cranked up the music and set out. I didn't care about time or pace, my arthritic old lady feet protested heavily, and sets of muscles I haven’t been using as much burned like the devil I felt like when I woke up this morning. And it was good. I'm not on the verge of taking running back up or anything, but it felt like a tiny victory. And a win is a win. Totally earned the afternoon of watching football while mobilizing. I'm a multi-tasker.
Epic Eye Roll
Yesterday on my way to crossfit I had the this adorable little exchange with my younger sister. For the record I was wearing spangled devil horns and matching tail while she refused to put on any sort of shiny Halloween attire.
Sister: You are so not a girl. Me: haha. how do you mean? Sister: I mean, I go to zumba, and you go to crossfit! Me: uhhhhhhhh like 70% of my gym is girls...
Seriously, people who don't crossfit have the strangest ideas about it and what it means, especially for women and feminity. All I can do is roll my eyes (which I am very skilled at, its practically my superpower)
Cause I love Halloween and so does my gym.
My Brush with Greatness
I know on throwback Thursday the norm is to go way way back, but I'm just gonna go back to spring. I touched greatness! And Greatness touched me.
if you ask 9 out of 10 crossfitters who that gorgeous man is, they will tell that his name is Jason Khalipa and he is a legend. This is me trying really hard to keep my shit together and not fan girl out last spring when I got lucky enough to score a photo with the man. Not only is he an incredible athlete, he is the most amazing human being. Seriously, the energy this man puts out is just the most pleasant wonderful thing in the world.
I wrote this post a while ago as my other persona, the Avid Bruxist. Took a lot of heat for it too because people who don’t understand sarcasm thought I was discussing something other than my insecurities as a Fat CrossFitter. It’s OK. Some folks have poor reading comprehension skills.
Yes. Yes. Yes.
My FUBAR Relationship with Food
My health insurance doesn't cover any sort of mental health professional, so let me be clear that I have never been officially diagnosed and I am not a trained psychoanalyst. All the information I'm about to flood you with is stuff I've just sort of figured out for myself along the way.
My biggest challenge in the battle of the bulge is partly what I eat but even more so how I eat. Clearly, I have issues with food. I am probably a carb addict. I enjoy a dessert here and there but for the most part when I binge eat it's on bread, salty, crunchy, or fried food.
Addictive personality is disturbingly prevalent on both sides of my family. Alcoholics, drug addicts, and gamblers, they're all there. I'm no paragon of virtue on the addiction front. I may be terrified of drugs, able to say no to the bottle, and capable of cashing out while ahead at the casino, but I do have a serious problem with food. It's debatable whether or not it's an "addiction" but regardless it's a very visible problem for me. I can eat in secret to hide my shame, but I can't hide the pounds of fat that result. It's a billboard for the world to see, one that I carry everyday.
A typical day off the wagon for me will consist of feeling no hunger all day, until about 4 or 5 in the afternoon when I'll notice the noise my stomach is making to clue me into the fact I haven't shoved anything in my face since I woke up (if I had my way I'd only have to eat once a day and that would be fine). So I'll mosey into the kitchen and find that none of the nutritious options I have thoughtfully stocked and prepared ahead of time appeal to me. This isn't about laziness, if it were that easy I'd have won this battle a few years ago.
This is where it becomes a choose your own adventure novel! I'll either chug some water until my belly shuts up and and I can ignore it for a couple more hours(compounding the problem when I finally do eat) or I go on the hunt for a quick and easy fix. I imagine it's like a coke addict hits up their dealer, only my dealer is the drive through. Take your pick, they're all a stones throw from my where I live and work, but you can be sure I'll order a large "value" meal and a few extras.
The entire time I am aware on some level that this is a self destructive negative behavior but that doesn't stop me. It's almost like an out of body experience as I'm inhaling 10,000 empty calories. It's called Binge Eating Disorder (BED, cute acronym huh? Sounds so harmless). In the moment it feels like I'm spinning out of control and even though I know it's happening and to stop it all I have to do is just put down the deep fried egg rolls, somehow I just can't. I want to, but I just cant.
So then there's this cycle of hopelessness, guilt, and shame. And the next day I do it again, always without any witnesses. Over and over, until my body just packs on the pounds because my metabolism is in starvation mode (yup, you can eat 10,000 calories a day and still confuse your body into thinking it's starving) because it's so confused about when or if or how much it is going to be fed again that it just holds onto everything. Turns out no matter how long it's been since your last meal your body can only use a finite number of calories and the excess is stored as, you guessed it, fat!
I think it's clear there's an emotional component that needs to be addressed in order to fully beat this destructive cycle. I just haven't figured out what it is yet. I still don't know the why. What came first? The chicken or the egg? Nature or nurture?
I have no major trauma in my past to explain this behavior. It could be that it's a behavior I learned growing up that made me this way. After all I did grow up in the school of "mmmmm Pepsi" and "Finish your plate! There are starving children in Africa!" and "Why are you sad? Here, have a cookie" It could also be that I became this way as child as a result of this behavior and it only got more extreme with age. Who knows? I don't. But I sure as hell aim to figure it out.
The Rundown.
So, where am I now? Where am I coming from? What are my goals. Let's get into the nitty gritty details. Normally I love details and planning, but laying this all out is lightweight overwhelming. But the promise was honesty. Brutal honesty. So let's do this.
Personal Details: Age: 29 Height: 5'3" Weight: 292 lbs. Goal weight: 135 lbs. (that's entire person to lose! F#@% me.) Tools I'm using: food tracking: myfitnesspal app activity tracking:FitBit Flex wristband and FitBit app Gym: Diablo Crossfit (and it's online WOD tracking system Beyond The Whiteboard)
So where am I coming from? Well at one point a few years ago I was in a dark and twisty depressed place. Lost my dad when I was 24 and hid from the world. I basically slept and stuffed my face for the next two years. Lord knows how I had any friends left, I wasn't a pleasant person to be around. At my lowest point I tipped the scales weighing in at over 300 lbs. I'm not sure of the exact number, because after 310 I stopped getting on the scale. My best guess is I was somewhere around 320 when I started "running" And that worked for awhile, I had some success.
My lightest weight came around the time I finished the Nike Women's Half Marathon in San Francisco October 2012. I weighed in at 272 before injury and frustration set in.
The numbers started creeping up with the holiday season after that. Until I found myself back in the 290's. Photo to come.
Focusing on the long term hurts my brain and is overwhelming in a demoralizing kind of way. So for now, I know the ultra long term goal is prevent the diabetes and heart issues that killed my dad, and someday reach my goal weight of 135 lbs, considered healthy for my short medium boned well muscled body type.
But for the more immediate future I'll be focusing on eating in a non-disordered way (more on that in the future) and showing up to my workouts frequently and consistently. We're talking at least 4 times a week.
Never miss a Monday.
Once upon a time, I was tired of being fat and lazy. So I got off my ass and started working out. And then I got burnt out and frustrated and slid back to old habits. And then I woke up many mornings and many pounds gained later and decided to get back to the gym. And so it went. Over and over.
All my life I've been overweight, though it didn’t effect me much until after high school. Then without realizing it I became obese. And one morning I woke up morbidly obese after many failed attempts at getting it together.
When I was finally ready to crawl out of my dark and twisty hidey hole I started working out with a fitness loving friend. And before you knew it I wanted to be a runner. I’d always envied their svelte bodies with lean toned legs. I wanted to run half marathons and be part of that whole community with their sense of accomplishment and shiny finisher medals. I walked/ran 5k’s. I finished a half marathon (after many DNF's cause lets face it, I hated training). But the thing is, I hate running. It hurts. A lot. And not in a good way(imo). I had moments, but never really became someone who loves to run. Props to those who do, I still envy you and your mountain of shiny treasures proclaiming your accomplishments and badassery. No one tells you how much it hurts though. So after a nagging pain in my left foot that wouldn’t go away (arthritis at the ripe old age of 28!) I quit running. I didn't know I hated it at the time and was really whiny and upset about it.
I started crossfit a few months after that. I'd been a fan lurking on the internet for over a year, cyber-stalking my idols and local box. So I gave it a try at my local boxes free intro class thinking it would cure the crazy thought in my head that maybe I could be a crossfitter. I bought a membership the next day. I was in full on gung ho! mode all "I'm gonna DO THIS!" (I mean, they're always yammering about how its for everyone and everything is totally scalable). I went to some classes. I volunteered and supplied food for my gym's athletes at the Crossfit Games NorCal Regionals. But the fear never went away. My stomach still flips every time I pull up to the gym. And then I stopped showing up. Hello self-sabotage, familiar old frenemy.
I love crossfit. I do. Every moment I’m there I love the pain in a way I never learned to love with running. I love my gym, my coaches, the community. But somehow, after walking out those doors and once the endorphin high and euphoria fade I forget how much I love it and I remember what a scarey thing it is. What an intense crazy thing, that no mere mountain of fluff like me can aspire to (all lies btw, that my inner self saboteur screams at me). So my attendance has been less than consistent, less than satisfactory.
Now after a slovenly summer I am once again resolved. The crispness of impending autumn air is like a reset button. I just turned 29, and on my birthday I went back.
The workout was a brutal one for everyone, but especially for me, who spent all summer doing precisely nothing. And I loved it. So I'm back on the wagon.
Now without further ado, here are the resolutions du jour:
1.PR in showing up. (PR = Personal Record) 2.Never miss a Monday 3.Be brutally honest with myself.
So here it goes…