Platinum Blonde to Purple? Oh yes!

"I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;

your works are wonderful, I know that full well."

Psalm 139:14

For months now God and I have not seen eye to eye. I was mad. In fact, I was mad at Him before I even knew it. I had become withdrawn from Him. I made every excuse under the sun for my pulling away from Him. I stopped attending Sunday school. Excuse there...."I don't want to be in a classroom full of couples when my husband works on Sundays." Then, I stopped going to "big church". Excuse there...."Too tired. I haven't been sleeping well." It finally got to so that my only attendance was on Wednesday night while I lead out our girls mission group. 

Flash forward several months....my Dad gets sick. I mean LUNG CANCER sick. I would like to say that the deep hole that I fell off into was because my Dad was sick. But, really it was more that I was mad. MAD. Mad at my Dad for smoking for years. Mad that he didn't take care of his body. Mad that the Veteran's Hospital wasn't answering questions fast enough. Mad. MAD. The stress of my Dad's illness lead to my RLS kicking it up a notch which then lead to severe lack of sleep. I fell even deeper into my hole. I was in a dark place. I was tired. And, I realized I was mad. Mad a God. For so many reason I was mad at Him. But, that mad at God feeling was too uncomfortable for me to deal with. So, I stayed mad....at whatever came up. Tired and mad. 

I let so many things slip through the cracks. My clean house. My involvement in things that mattered to me within my church home. My involvement in my boys school. Everything but my new obsession...yes, CrossFit. This is where it gets good. So many feelings were bubbling up in me and I just couldn't pray. I couldn't pray to God. I was mad at Him and would not acknowledge it. Then, the day came where I didn't agree with how fast (SLOW) the VA was answering questions. Then, I got mad with my Dad and my Mom for not pushing for answers. Not fighting to make sure Dad didn't slip the the cracks. I had a screaming, crying, yelling fit. That didn't help. I was still mad. Days went by. The only thing that curbed the agitation was CrossFit. Then, things got hectic. Boys got sick, I got sick. Couldn't make the 60 mile round trip to CF. The agitation grew deeper and darker. I still didn't pray. Then came the day that my Dad called me at 8:15 am to tell me he had finally heard from his doctor and had his confirmation that he indeed has lung cancer. This feeling of "small" came over me. Then, more anger. I went to CrossFit that night and flipped tires. And, I drug a sled so fast. Faster than anytime before. I left with burning lungs. Rubber legs. A "wore out" back. Exhausted. I prayed. I told God that I was mad at him. Mad because I hadn't slept well in 5 years. Causing me to gain weight while also making it almost impossible to get it back off. Mad because I have painful scars from surgery (more on this another time). Mad because we have been struggling financially for too long. Mad because my Dad was sick and he seemed to have no desire to fight for himself. Mad. SO MAD because I was going to have to tell my two Pawpaw loving little boys that my Dad was sick. Then, I drove home. I walked into my warm house. My husband, the love of my life, asked my how CF went. He was excited as I told him that I finally got to flip tires. Then, my boys came running into the room to tell ask me for dinner. While preparing dinner my oldest said "Today in P.E we had to climb these things on the wall. I told my P.E teacher that my Mom probably does this in CrossFit...she said it was cool that you do CrossFit". And, just like that, I was reminded that God has given me so much. Too much. He has given me life. He has given me all my dreams come true. He loves me. How can I be mad at that?

So, in keeping with remembering that God made me. And, in His eyes I am a work of art. I finally put down an old vice. Weeks ago, I chopped off my long hair. A few weeks later, I dyed my hair brown. Big thing for me. Platinum blonde has always been my color. Long, platinum hair was my security blanket. I felt like if I couldn't be super pretty or have a great body then I could have blonde hair. Today, we took care of that notion. No more long. No more blonde. And, I am ok with that. Because, I am wonderfully made by God.

Death By Power Clean

I started out today with this post on facebook: 

Today I am thankful for the body that I was born with. I have a natural tendency to be a little chunky, have a little asthma and I hate the whole RLS thing. But, I am able to enjoy lifting weights, flippin' tires, running through mud, jumping over fire obstacles, climbing walls and crawling through mucky tunnels. I may be slow (working on that) and may have to suck on an inhaler. But, still my body can do it. And, as long as it can, I will. And, I am thankful for that. Take care of your bodies people. You only get one!

I am thankful. It's really crappy to have exercise induced asthma. I have to run every single day to feel "comfortable" with a 5k. And, RLS (restless leg syndrome), have you ever tried to do a WOD, run a few miles or crank out some other beastly workout without at east a couple hours of sleep? I'm not talking a few missed nights of sleep a month. I am talking a nightly war with sleep? Yes, war. It's a love/hate relationship. I love, love, love sleep. But, I hate that I never, ever get a full night of sleep.

So, I will tell you another thing I am thankful for. That I also hate. MEDICATION. I am, what my family lovingly refers to as "earthy". I go the natural route for aliments if at all possible. But, man I really love me some Mirapex (RLS prescription medication) and my inhaler. Both of which I needed in order to complete and Rx (YES!!) today's WOD.

Enter, "Death By Power Clean". This WOD goes like this:

Set up Barbell (Rx weight for females = 75 pounds)

Complete 20 Rounds of Power Cleans 

Each round = One minute
First minute = One Power Clean
Second minute = Two Power Cleans
And so on and so on.....
If you get to a round that you can not complete....say round 10. You drop down to half that number of reps and complete that many Power Cleans for each round left.....so 5 Power Cleans for the remaining 10 rounds. Make sense? I hope so...

Now, if you can breath, this is hard. If you sleep well, this is hard. I can't breathe and I don't sleep well. So, I thought to myself....."You can do 6. At least do six whole rounds." <--------This is me placing limitations on myself!

I went 9 full rounds. Made it 6 Power Cleans into round 10 before I couldn't complete the movement. So, I finished out the last 10 rounds with 5 Power Cleans each round. 

Let's not forget. This is 20 minutes non-stop. No rest minutes in between. NO REST in between. 

Yep. I went 9 full rounds @ Rx weight (75 pounds).

Yep, I'm beastly. 

The highest rounds completed in our box today was 14 rounds. 

So, to sum it up. I am thankful for this non-breathing, sleep deprived, chunky body of mine.

And, I intend everyday to get stronger and leaner. Because, I can do all things through Him who strengthens me. 

Death By Power Clean WOD: the White Board

Short & Sweet

I am so glad I fell asleep last night before the election was decided. And, I am even more glad that I didn't read all the FaceBook & Twitter ugly-ness before bed....I would have never fallen asleep. 

If you are happy with last night's results:
Please don't just be content with the election outcome. Stay involved. Continue to expect more. 

If you are not happy with last night results:
Don't throw around names and ugly-ness. It makes you look ignorant and diminishes your cause. Get involved, require more of those you want to elect.

As for me, I will pray, pray, pray. Research, research, research. 

**She steps down from her soap box now.

JUMP!

A few weeks back I posted a comment on a CrossFit blog. The writer of the blog contacted me and asked if I would elaborate on my comment in a guest post. I had no idea what I was doing. I still don't. Anyhow, I wrote the piece and the blogger posted it. I got some positive feedback from facebook. So, I thought I'd give it a try.....so here....we....go!

CrossFit & My Limitations

I've been CrossFitting since August of this year. I. LOVE. IT! I am a total convert. I drank the Kool-aide. Ok, you get the point. Anyhow, I have learned something about myself since I started CF. 

I put too many limitations on myself.

I will look at a WOD (workout of the day) and immediately say "I can't do that!" Now, don't get me wrong. I work out. I'm chunky. But, I run, bike and I have always lifted weights. But, there are somethings that I would never try because I let my fear tell me "I can't".

 Prime example: Box Jumps.

 Box jumps are exactly what they sound like. There's a box. You jump on it. Simple, right? Well, that all depends on just how high the box is that you plan to jump onto. Now, box jumps aren't CrossFit exclusive. I have seen people all my gym life doing them. I have also seen people miss said box and rip the skin from the bottom of their leg to the knee.

 Enter MY FEAR! 

So, one day not so long ago, while at CF I was doing box jumps on the the baby box. Deep down I knew I could go bigger. But, the fear was too much. The box was not my friend. But, by the end of the WOD it really just ate at me that I gave up on myself and didn't at least try a taller box. It irritated the crap out of me that I let a wooden box get the best of me. So I walked over in a fit of bravado and did ONE box jump on the taller box and left the building. 

On my way home I kept thinking about how disturbing it was that I let the fear of a little blood and pain keep me from growing in my fitness endeavours. It annoyed me. A LOT. 

A few days later,  enter another WOD of box jumps. I decided to stare my fear in the face and I grabbed the taller box. I did one full round of jumps. Then, well, I'm sure you can guess. Halfway into the second round IT happened. I came down on the edge of the box. Tore a chunk of skin from my leg. Blood poured. My leg throbbed. And my coach looked at me with a "well, you gonna stop or keep going" stare.

 I kept going. 

After a few minutes the throbbing turned to a dull pain. The blood began to coagulate and the swelling started. It was easy to finish after that. I completed my WOD. Wiped the blood from my leg. Removed the chunk of skin- YES GROSS. And, went home. I cleaned up. Iced my wound. And, realized that was as bad as it was going to get. It hurt. Weeks later, I still have a scab. But, I'm still alive. And, everyone in the class thought I was a beast for finishing. What was I so afraid of? A box? A little blood? Pain? 

After completing the WOD and cleaning up a bit at the gym.

Flash forward to today's WOD. Yikes!! "Lateral Jumps over a weight bench"! My first thought out of my head....."I can't do that". I mean LATERAL JUMPS? Holy Smokes! For the slightest moment panic set in. Then, I saw my fellow classmates jumping. I mean, really, what is the worst thing that could happen? 

1. I jump, don't make it, fall and hurt myself.

2. I jump, don't make it, fall, and look like an idiot.

3. I jump, make it and do it again.

So, I jumped. I made it. I jumped some more. Thirty times more. NEVER ONCE FELL. 

Moral to this long, drawn out story....JUMP. Face your fears. You may fall. It may hurt. You may look like an idiot. But, really, wouldn't you rather hurt or look like an idiot for a little while... or just keep sitting around thinking "I can't do that!"?

Honestly, that box jump fail was the best thing to happen to me in a long while!