That Time of Year...

Yes, friends, it's that time of year when your hosts, Dr. W & MB, once again contemplate the Happiness Index, the size of house to sanity ratio, the craziness of The Dog, the muddiness of the yard and all things locational.
Should we move?
Should we get a new(er) car?
Should we start stuffing money under the mattress, you know, just in case?
Should we reseed the yard or just pave it over?
Should we plant a garden?
Do we need a bigger house or should we take a trip to Ireland?
Do we need a newer car?
Should I get a new bicycle?
Should we add on?
Should we get a shipping container, put it in the backyard and turn it into My Office?
What, friends, Should we do?

In Which I am Not Myself

She thought that Mondays after Spring Break should be reserved for Intensive Coffee Drinking and Other Forms of Relaxing, such as Not Lecturing and Not Teaching. Even Going to the Doctor seemed preferable to Talking to A Room of Students Not in Attendance. Collecting Papers seemed a task invented in one of the lower Circles of Hell, possibly the Circle in which Administrators languished, no doubt Drinking Coffee and Inventing Other Tasks, such as Assessment and Teacher Evaluations. Grading Papers, she knew, was a task reserved for Some Other Day, certainly not Today.
No, Today was Monday. Today was the Day for Not Being Ones Self, wholly, but somehow Partially and in jeans, no less. Today was Monday, the day invented by those who, obviously, do not Toil but only Work, whatever that means. Today was the day the Students, by which she means those registered for the class not necessarily those who Show Up, thought was Optional, which they understood to mean Not Required, just like the Papers they Didn't Turn In, which, frankly, was like A Lot of Other Things this semester.
Oh yes, the Monday after Spring Break is a special kind of Monday. A Monday which needs Vodka Drinks and other things, like Chocolate and possibly Cookies and definitely Alcohol to be Gotten Through, by which she means endured until Passing Out which, in her opinion, is the only acceptable conclusion to the Monday After Spring Break.

The Confused People

She goes to a movie in the afternoon. Apparently, this is the time that the confused people also go to the movies. She did not know this.
The confused people cannot find seats quickly, they do not understand that the movie theater has two aisles. They do not understand the concept of whispering or holding all questions until the end.
The movie, as such, is not confusing. But the confused people, confused as they are, do not know when the movie starts, so they enter the movie ten minutes after it has begun. This adds to their confusion.
When the plot twists, as it does, it does so visually. This confuses the confused people.
After the movie, the confused people wander the cineplex, asking questions of those who appear less confused, or not confused at all.
You were in there, weren't you? The movie with the couple?
Yes, she says. I saw the movie.
What about the woman with the baby, the confused people ask.
You mean the woman with children? When she opens the door?
The confused people nod.
Wasn't she in a couple with that man? Why did she have a baby?
Yes, she says. She was a couple with that man. But she was also married. She was part of two couples.
The confused people display confusion on their faces. We are confused, their expressions say. We are the confused people.

On Writing and Exercise Addiction

So the problem with Facebook...okay, you're right, ONE of the problems with Facebook...is that everybody knows what you're doing. So say, if you, meaning me, if I am working out a lot every body knows it. Nothing wrong there, right? It keeps me connected to my Crossfit buddies, keeps me honest.

However. Right. However...

Then, when one goes out, meaning me...one gets asked, "How's your writing going?" And then if one says, well, you know...it's not great. I don't really have time to write..you know, the grading. Then. Then my friends, you know, the asker, the asker says, "Well, you have time to work out. You're always lifting weights and running." To which one says what? What, I ask, does one say?

Well. What I did say was, "Well, working out is social! It's fun! And writing...." I trailed off.

And then today, after working out (note: not writing) I felt great. I felt high. I felt amazing. And I thought, how often does writing make me feel great? I've felt great after writing maybe two times, maybe three times that I can remember. Most of the time writing makes me feel inadequate and sub par. Less than. Terrible. Affirmation that I am, in fact, not a very good writer. I would say 9 out of 10 writing sessions make me feel adequate or less than.

But Crossfit. Well. The opposite. I would say 9 out of 10 workouts make me feel great. I say after each workout, Wow! I lifted that! I did 35 deadlifts and 35 hang cleans and 35 front squats and 32 push jerks. That's amazing. I kick ass. And I feel good all day.

So today, I did find an hour. And I wrote in a coffee shop. I wrote about 1,500 words. Not bad. I went back over the stuff I had written and it wasn't bad. But did I feel adrenaline coursing through my veins? No. Did I feel like I had just accomplished great things? Sort of.

Writing my friends, is a lonely, lonely business. It's not social, and it has very few (if any) immediate rewards.

The key, I guess, to repeat myself, is balance. Can't I do both? Can't I Crossfit and write? And can't I keep updating my FB status with workout stats? Please?

Inspiration: A Reflection

This weekend at the Crossfit Utah/Nevada Sectionals, I witnessed super human feats of strength. I saw people do incredible things that I'm sure they didn't think they could do.
The people who impressed me the most were the women my age, the mothers, the petite women who don't look like they can lift 100 pounds over their heads, but they can.
As much as I could, I tried to tell those women how inspiring they are to me. It's strange, and I can't explain it, but watching them made me feel great. I felt great because they are so strong. Like I said, I'm not sure why, but there is something about Crossfit that just makes me feel great about other people's accomplishments.
My favorite moment was judging the last workout. It was a brutal 750 m row, 30 Double unders, 15 burpees, 4 rounds. For men, the cut off time was 25 minutes. I was judging a guy from Las Vegas and he had less than a minute to do his last set of burpees. But he did it, finishing the last five burpees in less than 15 seconds, with a time of 24:58. The crowd erupted, cheering and clapping.
That's what I love about Crossfit. It's not about winning. It's about effort. He gave it his all.
I also loved the forty-something woman who did her weighted pullups (10 # vest) one at a time, but each one was perfect.
Most inspiring to me, however, was my nutritionist, who had a baby in October. She was amazing, finishing 7th out of 43 women, many of whom are younger than her. Watching her finish the prowler event (deadlifts, push a weighted prowler, overhead squats) made me cry.
I'm super inspired by this weekend. Can't wait to get back to the gym.