Wednesday, April 28, 2010

End of the Semester Musings

Apparently the last day of classes, or what I like to call "surf the internet while students turn in final projects" day, leaves me way too much time to think and watch videos of Crossfit exercises on-line.
Some of my musings:
  • If I were going to get a tattoo, what would it be?
  • How long will it take me to get my kipping pull-up back?
  • Why are chocolate donuts so delicious?
  • Why am I so hungry?
  • Why do students seem so surprised by their not-passing grades?
  • Will my hallmate ever stop whistling or will I have to stab him in the throat with a plastic fork?
  • What should my Crossfit nickname be? (I'm thinking "Biyotch!")
  • Why are vegetable serving sizes so small (1 serving of lettuce = 3 g of carbs? I think not!) and all other serving sizes so big (20 oz sodas?)?
  • Will students ever learn the differences between it's/its and their/there/they're?
  • How long does one have to stare at a "final project" before it is considered graded?
Feel free to post your own musings and potential answers to comments. 

Saturday, April 03, 2010

April is National Poetry Month!

My compatriot, Hightouchmegastore, and I will be posting daily poems (for as long as we can keep it up!) over at our poem a day blog.
I'm working on a series of prose poems, Postcards from London. I've posted two of the ones I've written over there already. April is a good kick in the butt for me to finish these. I'm hoping they can become a chapbook at some point.
Please visit us over there during the month.

Thursday, April 01, 2010

"Against [her] own best time"

Well, it is April now, and National Poetry Month, so why not a post that takes a line from a poem?
I've been thinking of this line from Sharon Olds' poem "Sex Without Love" but totally out of context.
Yes, you naysayers and skeptics, it DOES have to do with Crossfit, thanks for asking.
Because, as you know, Crossfit workouts are usually timed, so, ostensibly, one competes against her neighbors and compatriots. But...BUT what she, one, I am actually competing against is "my own best time" meaning, I'm just competing against myself.
Of course, in the poem, Olds thinks this is a bad thing, because she compares it to sex without love. I won't comment on that, but she disparages runners because they "know they are alone." I love running and one of the reasons I love/d it was because it was something I did alone. I didn't need a gym or a partner to do it.
But I love Crossfit for the opposite reason. I do need a community, a coach, a competitor to do it. However, I also need to be reminded (like, every day) that I am not in competition with everyone or even anyone. Other people can make good motivators, the clock can kick you into action, but ultimately it is you against your own best time. And, I might add, your own standards.
I made myself redo two push ups today because I wasn't happy with my form. So. It's not enough to do it fastest, to do it best. You have to do it right.
That's some zen shit.
Happy Poetry Month!

Sex Without Love

How do they do it, the ones who make love
without love? Beautiful as dancers,
gliding over each other like ice-skaters
over the ice, fingers hooked
inside each other's bodies, faces
red as steak, wine, wet as the
children at birth whose mothers are going to
give them away. How do they come to the
come to the come to the God come to the
still waters, and not love
the one who came there with them, light
rising slowly as steam off their joined
skin? These are the true religious,
the purists, the pros, the ones who will not
accept a false Messiah, love the
priest instead of the God. They do not
mistake the lover for their own pleasure,
they are like great runners: they know they are alone
with the road surface, the cold, the wind,
the fit of their shoes, their over-all cardio-
vascular health--just factors, like the partner
in the bed, and not the truth, which is the
single body alone in the universe
against its own best time.