Christmas is five days away. I finally got the lights on the tree last night...to go with the three (yes, 3) ornaments currently hanging there. It is my fervent hope that all other ornaments currently in our possession will miraculously leap onto the tree and arrange themselves with perfect spacing, but I don't think that will happen. It could be that we are starting a new tradition in not decorating for Christmas until the week of....or it could be that we've just had too much going on otherwise to help it. And that's sad.
Christmas has always been my favorite holiday....and not for the reason that it's a holiday at all. But with each December day that passes, I feel like more and more is slipping away from me. I can't cram the season into one or two special days. One of my favorite Christmas memories is of touring the homes on the Fredericksburg Candlelight Tour. I'm not sure they even do that anymore, but I've always wanted to have that experience again.....and I've been meaning to do that for at least 15 years but haven't ever made the time. Didn't take that extra day off from work or say no to other "obligations." I didn't make the time to have my son's portraits taken by my favorite photographer and fantastic friend, Sara Blanco. I didn't send out Christmas cards to people I love. And I was so busy cleaning this weekend that I didn't make the time to bake Christmas cookies with my boy.
I hate that this has become a season of regrets. I want it to be a season of celebration. So please forgive me if I choose to bake with my child tonight instead of wiping down baseboards and cleaning the paw prints from the sliding glass door. If you happen to stop by my house over Christmas and see the piles upon piles of laundry peeking out from my laundry room (and maybe other rooms, as well) just don't say anything. It's not important to me anymore and it shouldn't be important to you, either. I cleaned the kitchen and the bathroom and that's really all that should concern anyone.
I have boxes of Christmas decorations stacked in my entryway, and if they stay there until Christmas Eve, does it really matter? They won't be there when my son wakes up early on Christmas morning and pads down the hallway in his footed pajamas into the living room. They won't be there when I hear him gasp and whisper "Wow!" to himself as he stands in the middle of the room illuminated by the glow of the tree, because I've already been listening for hours. They won't be there when he runs into our bedroom and jumps onto the bed and steps onto and over our bodies and excitedly grabs my face in his little hands and announces that Santa came.
The boxes will not be there on Christmas Day. I promise. Just please don't open any doors....
Monday, December 20, 2010
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Me & My Big Mouth
So, that little WOD that I so mockingly made up in yesterday's post and delightfully named "I Hate Everybody" turned out to be more than a little fortuitous. I re-set my alarm this morning after trying to get out of bed the first time and receiving a swift rebuke from my quads that said "Uh, NO ma'am. We refuse." Having mercy on my out-of-shape self, I decided since yesterday was my first day back that I would give myself a break and take a rest day (again, after ONE day back....pansy).
Yeah. So, I wake up and find that Missy has messaged me on Facebook to essentially tell me to keep my big mouth shut next time. (I'm kidding....she said no such thing....except that she had already been to class this morning and mentioned that my name kept running through her head along with some choice cuss words....and I LOVE IT!!!)
And now out of sheer obligation I must go to the 6:15 pm class tonight and pull my pitiful self through this:
1,000 meter run
10 pull-ups
75 squats (SEVENTY FIVE!!!!!!!!!)
3 (Yes, THREE) Rounds for Time
I am very nearly in tears just thinking about it. I tried squatting in my office a few minutes ago, just to have a little better preparedness......bad idea. Yesterday's front squats were not so much the re-acquaintance my legs wanted to make.
But I'ma go. I promised. And I'll probably be the last one finished. So, if ya'll see me struggling while you drive down Blanco this evening, offer up a kind word....maybe just a little shout-out or two. Because I'm already cussing at myself.....
UPDATE: I did it. 34:15, which I'm pretty sure is the third slowest time on the board. It is what it is and at least I didn't skip. Something to improve upon.
Yeah. So, I wake up and find that Missy has messaged me on Facebook to essentially tell me to keep my big mouth shut next time. (I'm kidding....she said no such thing....except that she had already been to class this morning and mentioned that my name kept running through her head along with some choice cuss words....and I LOVE IT!!!)
And now out of sheer obligation I must go to the 6:15 pm class tonight and pull my pitiful self through this:
1,000 meter run
10 pull-ups
75 squats (SEVENTY FIVE!!!!!!!!!)
3 (Yes, THREE) Rounds for Time
I am very nearly in tears just thinking about it. I tried squatting in my office a few minutes ago, just to have a little better preparedness......bad idea. Yesterday's front squats were not so much the re-acquaintance my legs wanted to make.
But I'ma go. I promised. And I'll probably be the last one finished. So, if ya'll see me struggling while you drive down Blanco this evening, offer up a kind word....maybe just a little shout-out or two. Because I'm already cussing at myself.....
UPDATE: I did it. 34:15, which I'm pretty sure is the third slowest time on the board. It is what it is and at least I didn't skip. Something to improve upon.
Patty Griffin Does Not CrossFit....But I Do and I Love Them Both
I was not completely done with my papers that were due on Monday, but I had tickets to see Shawn Colvin and Patty Griffin in Austin on Sunday night. No way I was going to miss it. I took my books and articles in the car and read while Jason drove until I ran out of daylight sufficient enough to see. I was already so tired. But I had to go.
I'd never been to the Paramount Theatre before. (And I love when it's spelled with the r before the e....so very upscale). It's old and tiny and warm and inviting. Could not have been happier with our seats. We were in the balcony, 3 rows from the railing, yet so close to the stage that I could see the fly-aways in Patty's hair that the straightener failed to tame. I could count the bracelets on her left arm and see the paisley pattern on the rug beneath their chairs and the pick on the small black side table just off to her right.
I had tears in my eyes from the moment Patty strummed the first chord on her guitar and opened her mouth to sing....and you can assume that's because I was beyond the point of physical and mental exhaustion, but you'd be wrong. There's a heartbreak in her voice that can be felt. It makes the hair on your neck stand up and can send chills all the way down to your feet. But running alongside that heartbreak is a comfort, like when mama would sing you to sleep at night.
I had never seen Shawn Colvin live before, but now am a huge fan. She is a phenomenal guitarist and her songwriting is full of thought and pain and ironic humor. She seems like she'd be one of those friends who is painfully honest, but can also make you laugh until your sides hurt.
Part of what I loved most about the show is that they didn't have a predetermined set list. It was kind of like sitting in a living room with two good friends who were catching up and having a nice, long, easy conversation. The show was completely acoustic, with the heels of their boots as their only beat keepers. Stripped down, the raw beauty of their songs and voices shone and moved and kept a quiet peace until each one was finished.
They took turns, back and forth, with Patty so impressed with Shawn's guitar that she used it for her own songs more often than not. (The fact that it was a John Mayer Special Edition by Martin provided for some fantastic and off the cuff remarks by both girls that would later worry Patty about which parts might make their way onto the internet the next day). Their easy banter between songs, when one was trying to decide what to play next, brought some great laughs and kept the mood light and laid back. I could not have been happier if I had been curled up on the couch with my softest blanket.
The show was too short, as it always is. When it's that good, you want it to go on and on and on. But they did come back for an encore and I think that's when Jason fell in love with Patty for himself. She played Kris Kristofferson's "Help Me Make It Through the Night," a song (obviously) made famous by Waylon Jennings. And it was exactly what I needed to carry me through those final few hours of writing.
I'd never been to the Paramount Theatre before. (And I love when it's spelled with the r before the e....so very upscale). It's old and tiny and warm and inviting. Could not have been happier with our seats. We were in the balcony, 3 rows from the railing, yet so close to the stage that I could see the fly-aways in Patty's hair that the straightener failed to tame. I could count the bracelets on her left arm and see the paisley pattern on the rug beneath their chairs and the pick on the small black side table just off to her right.
I had tears in my eyes from the moment Patty strummed the first chord on her guitar and opened her mouth to sing....and you can assume that's because I was beyond the point of physical and mental exhaustion, but you'd be wrong. There's a heartbreak in her voice that can be felt. It makes the hair on your neck stand up and can send chills all the way down to your feet. But running alongside that heartbreak is a comfort, like when mama would sing you to sleep at night.
I had never seen Shawn Colvin live before, but now am a huge fan. She is a phenomenal guitarist and her songwriting is full of thought and pain and ironic humor. She seems like she'd be one of those friends who is painfully honest, but can also make you laugh until your sides hurt.
Part of what I loved most about the show is that they didn't have a predetermined set list. It was kind of like sitting in a living room with two good friends who were catching up and having a nice, long, easy conversation. The show was completely acoustic, with the heels of their boots as their only beat keepers. Stripped down, the raw beauty of their songs and voices shone and moved and kept a quiet peace until each one was finished.
They took turns, back and forth, with Patty so impressed with Shawn's guitar that she used it for her own songs more often than not. (The fact that it was a John Mayer Special Edition by Martin provided for some fantastic and off the cuff remarks by both girls that would later worry Patty about which parts might make their way onto the internet the next day). Their easy banter between songs, when one was trying to decide what to play next, brought some great laughs and kept the mood light and laid back. I could not have been happier if I had been curled up on the couch with my softest blanket.
The show was too short, as it always is. When it's that good, you want it to go on and on and on. But they did come back for an encore and I think that's when Jason fell in love with Patty for himself. She played Kris Kristofferson's "Help Me Make It Through the Night," a song (obviously) made famous by Waylon Jennings. And it was exactly what I needed to carry me through those final few hours of writing.
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Good Day to Go Back
WOD: "Full Frontal"
2 rounds cals
5-5-3-3-3 front squats
*maxed at 3 reps of 95 lbs.
5 min. rest
12" AMRAP:
5 front squats
5 push press
*8.5 rounds @ 65 lbs.
Two and a half weeks (closer to three) doesn't sound like such a long time, but it is when you're talking about going without CrossFit. And it's not like I was on vacation. But papers are now submitted and I'm done with classes for a month. The break was necessary, but it wasn't really a break so much as it was forced concentration on something else.
Going back in today wasn't easy. I didn't even hear my alarm and only woke up because my brother called to remind me that I had said I was going back today and to make sure I did. I told him I didn't feel good. "Go anyway. You'll feel better." So I got up and dressed. Thank God my clothes still fit...mostly. I was truly worried. Subsisting on triple shot egg nog lattes doesn't exactly leave one feeling lithe.
Once I got there I was fine....excited when I saw 5:45 doing front squats because, for some unknown reason, I love those. Not as fun as squat cleans, but I can't get what I want everyday. But I was most thankful there was no running required this morning. (And now that I say that, we'll probably be doing something awful like 800m sprints, 5 RFT tomorrow....with 40 burpees tucked nicely between each round....and maybe a farmer walk with heavy dumbbells thrown in there at the end, plus a 400m lunge, and some double unders just to piss me off....we'll just go ahead and call it "I Hate Everybody")
Getting back to what I was saying.....
I'm glad I sucked it up and went today. I could easily be disappointed with my 3 rep max @ 95, but I'm sort of uncomfortably okay with it. Not every day can be a PR day. And those 65 lb push presses did not feel good. But I'm sort of (okay, really) enjoying the soreness that's setting in. I like that soreness.
I also like that there's a certain bar I like to use and I like that I'm irritated I didn't look for it this morning. Not that it might have changed anything, because it wouldn't. Or maybe it would have. I like that I'm familiar enough now that I notice things like my favorite bar and the fact that I like the black bumper plates, with maybe one green plate (only when combined with a black one, never two green together, and only used on the left-hand side) but never again that blue plate. The blue one doesn't like me. (If I ever approach you with one blue plate and ask you to switch with me, just do it. Don't ask why. I would do it for you....if it were any one but that one.)
I like that there's a certain kettle bell that's "mine"....the one with the handle that's just rough enough so I don't have to use chalk, but without a funky weld like that other one that tears open my pinky fingers. (Don't tell me to use gloves. I don't like them. I'm claustrophobic and so are my hands.) I'm sure 15 other people have claimed this same kettle bell, but for the hour that I'm there, it's mine. We have a relationship and we work well together.
But mostly I like that I got to see friends and familiar faces. And I got hugs. I like those, too.
2 rounds cals
5-5-3-3-3 front squats
*maxed at 3 reps of 95 lbs.
5 min. rest
12" AMRAP:
5 front squats
5 push press
*8.5 rounds @ 65 lbs.
Two and a half weeks (closer to three) doesn't sound like such a long time, but it is when you're talking about going without CrossFit. And it's not like I was on vacation. But papers are now submitted and I'm done with classes for a month. The break was necessary, but it wasn't really a break so much as it was forced concentration on something else.
Going back in today wasn't easy. I didn't even hear my alarm and only woke up because my brother called to remind me that I had said I was going back today and to make sure I did. I told him I didn't feel good. "Go anyway. You'll feel better." So I got up and dressed. Thank God my clothes still fit...mostly. I was truly worried. Subsisting on triple shot egg nog lattes doesn't exactly leave one feeling lithe.
Once I got there I was fine....excited when I saw 5:45 doing front squats because, for some unknown reason, I love those. Not as fun as squat cleans, but I can't get what I want everyday. But I was most thankful there was no running required this morning. (And now that I say that, we'll probably be doing something awful like 800m sprints, 5 RFT tomorrow....with 40 burpees tucked nicely between each round....and maybe a farmer walk with heavy dumbbells thrown in there at the end, plus a 400m lunge, and some double unders just to piss me off....we'll just go ahead and call it "I Hate Everybody")
Getting back to what I was saying.....
I'm glad I sucked it up and went today. I could easily be disappointed with my 3 rep max @ 95, but I'm sort of uncomfortably okay with it. Not every day can be a PR day. And those 65 lb push presses did not feel good. But I'm sort of (okay, really) enjoying the soreness that's setting in. I like that soreness.
I also like that there's a certain bar I like to use and I like that I'm irritated I didn't look for it this morning. Not that it might have changed anything, because it wouldn't. Or maybe it would have. I like that I'm familiar enough now that I notice things like my favorite bar and the fact that I like the black bumper plates, with maybe one green plate (only when combined with a black one, never two green together, and only used on the left-hand side) but never again that blue plate. The blue one doesn't like me. (If I ever approach you with one blue plate and ask you to switch with me, just do it. Don't ask why. I would do it for you....if it were any one but that one.)
I like that there's a certain kettle bell that's "mine"....the one with the handle that's just rough enough so I don't have to use chalk, but without a funky weld like that other one that tears open my pinky fingers. (Don't tell me to use gloves. I don't like them. I'm claustrophobic and so are my hands.) I'm sure 15 other people have claimed this same kettle bell, but for the hour that I'm there, it's mine. We have a relationship and we work well together.
But mostly I like that I got to see friends and familiar faces. And I got hugs. I like those, too.
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