Ouch

Ouch! Ouchy, ouch, ouch, ouch! 

My entire body hurts. CF did it again!

It's OK, though. As long as I don't move or think about moving, I'm fine. 

Oh! The Humidity!

I think I'm in for a rough CF summer: Texas humidity is here. 

I started CF in the fall when you had to worry about wearing sweatshirts not completely sweating through your T-shirt, so doing the all outdoor all the time CrossFit workouts hasn't really been too much of an issue.

But these past couple of days have been like breathing into a giant bowl of split pea soup. The air is thick and my lungs DO NOT like it. "No thank you," they say, "we reject this thick version of oxygen you are trying to pump into us. We'd like some normal air, please." 

There is no reprieve from it, though! It is like a thick blanket that drapes over the world. I haven't really swum at all since I finished my swimming "career" in college, but I am beginning to think that maybe there will be some swimming in my future; I mean, the air is so heavy with moisture that we may have to be swimming our 400 meter runs.

And don't even get me started on how much it makes you sweat. I may as well jump into a pool fully clothed. At least I would feel a bit cooled off. But instead I get coated in sticky, blechy, sweat that seems to weigh down my clothing more than it cools me off.

If anyone knows of a magic humidity relief potion, please let me know!

Confessions

I don't like talking about my flaws and insecurities. To me, those are my burdens to bare and I tend to keep them as my little secrets. Everyone has their own issues to deal with, why bother them with mine?

I actually think (read: know) that is why I am such a sarcastic idiot - it's easier to be sarcastic about something and brush it off than it is to be real and let people in on the innermost workings of my brain. Maybe it's the athlete in me, or maybe I was traumatized as a child, or maybe in a former life I was a gabber and now I am destined to a lifetime of keeping things to myself (which would explain why I am such a super secret keeper. For real. I am like Fort Knox with a secret). I think it's probably the latter.

My biggest insecurity is definitely body image. I have a HORRIBLE body image. The only good thing about that is it is what led me to CrossFit, but unfortunately even after six months of CF, and four months of paleo-zoning and micro-measuring all of my food, my image hasn't improved. I keep waiting for the stars to align and inches to drop off of my body, but so far all of my clothes fit the same or even worse (mostly from muscle gain) and I never see a positive difference in the mirror. 

Months of no results has been niggling at my brain and my insecurities have lavished in it. To try to maximize my results, I discussed eating less with my coaches. Done. I did that for about six weeks and still....nothing.

And then about three weeks ago, I started falling into a horrible, horrible spiral of bad habits. I figured, if ten blocks were good, nine blocks were better. I'd already cut out all refined carbs (bread, pasta, etc.) so I cut out fruit - I figured that those are higher in sugar, so they would be better to drop, right? 

Early last week I plugged a typical day into a calorie calculator (another habit I personally shouldn't do because it just leads me into a downward shame spiral when I do it). I was eating about 1300 calories/day. I am almost six feet tall and am very active. I knew that wasn't enough, but I let myself believe that it was. 

I started doing more cardio workouts on my own in the afternoon. Then, to feel more full, I started taking fiber capsules. Heaven forbid I actually eat more! I was already struggling to lose weight!

That was rock bottom. Well, almost rock bottom. I don't want to talk about rock bottom. Let's just say that there was a bottom rock and I was on it. Luckily I smacked my head on that rock and it knocked some sense into me. 

So what did I do? I called up Megan. And we formulated a plan. An "Eat More" plan. Operation Eat More. Megan walks the walk, so I have a lot of faith that she knows what she is talking about. And clearly I need someone to tell me what to do.

But even still, I'm a bit scared. And I hate myself for having insecurities and even more for being stupid. Who would think that with all of the ass kicking, sweat inducing, muscle failing, lactic acid building, heart pounding workouts we do that the hardest thing for me would be....chewing.

"Easy"

Sometimes I think that our coaches speak a different language. However, over the past few months, I have been able to become a professional CF Speak to Normal Person translator. 

For example, this morning the workout was supposed to be 50 x Man Makers. Man Makers are horrible, horrible things that make you wonder why (WHY!?!?) you thought CrossFit was a good idea.

JDP said, "Easy workout, guys, easy workout!" 

Translation: "I hope you want to be a worthless pile of goo the rest of the day, because today's workout is going to SUCK!"

Then, if that wasn't horrible enough, we did 400 meter sprints. Well, 400 meter "sprints" - the 35 Man Makers I managed to finish  in the allotted time frame had rendered my legs to just about useless. 

Lance said we were doing "a couple." In normal terms, that means 2. In CF terms, that can be translated to, "as many as we can do in the time that we have left....or until you drop dead. Whatever comes first, but really we are aiming for death."

Some other common phrases that can be translated:

Short Workout = Not nearly enough time to finish the crazy amount of things written on the white board

Light Weights = We tested the weight with the competitors of the World's Strongest Man Competition, and they had no problem lifting it.

Short Breaks = You've rested more than .0001 seconds. Get back to the workout!

Fun Workout = Zero Fun. 

I think the CF coaches sit around at night thinking of ways to build us up just so they can knock us flat on our butts and say, "Haha! Suckers! You fell for it again!!! Chalk another one up for the coaches!" 

Sadly, I know this, yet keep coming back for more.