I'm not a big fan of "resolutions". More a fan of goal setting. If you know anything about me, you know I'm a big fan of CrossFit. Yes, it is true. I put a lot of effort into working out and staying fit...except I drink too much. Yes, yes it is true. I have a toddler and sometimes the wine is just the perfect escape. I have often heard from friends that CrossFit and alcohol don't go well together. I kind of laugh at that. I mean, I'm the former rugby player who would use the sport to drink more beer and the former runner who would run to earn her wine. Until last night I didn't really think they were that bad of a match.
What happened last night? I HAVE NO IDEA!!! I didn't drink more than I usually do, but I was exponentially more drunk than I usually get. And that leads me down a bad road. One where I have to eat to feel "normal" again. So in the mouth goes chocolate, granola or whatever other carbs might drown out some of the woozy feeling. It's the holidays though, right? Well, right except that I worked really hard to drop some weight, a bunch of which is creeping its merry way back on to my body. Double whammy, feeling drunk and fat...
So into the new year... I intend to cut the booze down and continue to work on fitness and nutrition.
I also intend on blogging/writing more and cutting down on social media trolling and posting.
Onward...
Tuesday, December 30, 2014
Saturday, December 13, 2014
Out and back lung burner....
Warm up: 1 mile out and back:
Out .5 miles (example 5 min.)
Back .5 miles faster (example 4 min.)
50 air squats
Rest 5 minutes
B. 5 RFT
5 DL 135#
3 CJ 135#
20 Double unders
Rest 5 minutes
C. 4 rounds AFAP
10 20lb wall balls
20 20lb med ball lunges (hold the ball however is most comfy, overhead or close to your chest)
Rest 5 minutes
D. Row 1000M
rest 2 min.
Row 500M
Wednesday, November 26, 2014
leveling the playing field
I know my co-worker means well... Yesterday I was getting ready to leave and I said, "time to go." Her response was "oh don't make me jealous." I told her she could race home in 1.5 hour traffic to spend an hour of time with her son before bed and then get back on line after too. Her response, "you could come in earlier."
This, for some reason, really irritated me - and obviously still does. The thing is, I would if I could make it work. Part of my mental and physical health is working out via CrossFit. Due to scheduling, there are limited times that I can attend. If I could get into work at 6am every day and hit a 4pm class every night - I would be set. Then I could race home after a full day of work, a great work out and call it a night.
CrossFits are like therapists. They aren't all created equal. When you find one you like, you figure out how to make it work. So, I'm figuring out how to make it work. It's not like I haven't been through this schedule thing a MILLION times. I would LOVE to go into work early and leave early.
Grrrrrrrrrrrr....
This, for some reason, really irritated me - and obviously still does. The thing is, I would if I could make it work. Part of my mental and physical health is working out via CrossFit. Due to scheduling, there are limited times that I can attend. If I could get into work at 6am every day and hit a 4pm class every night - I would be set. Then I could race home after a full day of work, a great work out and call it a night.
CrossFits are like therapists. They aren't all created equal. When you find one you like, you figure out how to make it work. So, I'm figuring out how to make it work. It's not like I haven't been through this schedule thing a MILLION times. I would LOVE to go into work early and leave early.
Grrrrrrrrrrrr....
Thursday, August 28, 2014
Sitting Man and His Pretzel Bites Update
There is major construction going on at the Cambridge Common! Fences surround a significant part of the park. The part of the park that I walk through and the part of the park where the Sitting Man's bench lives. Sadly, he is no longer there and I can no longer share niceties with him.
His daytime home has been ripped out from under his butt!
His daytime home has been ripped out from under his butt!
Sunday, August 17, 2014
Lost dogs and community
Yesterday, we had our new dryer delivered. As you may have read, last week our son had the stomach bug and we had no dryer to dry said cleaned puked on garments and sheets. I digress. In any case, the dryer had to be delivered through our storm door in the backyard, which meant that the back gate (which encloses our dogs) was open. After delivery, I went back to close things up and in my haste to tie up loo
se ends, I forgot to shut the gate.
Fast forward about 30 minutes... we go on about our morning business and get ready to head out to run errands. I go to let the dogs in and realize the gate is open and the dogs are gone.
Queue STRESS HORMONES AND PANIC!!!
We have a long history with Dexter and his wild escapades. He runs and runs and runs. He was a street dog before we rescued him, which means that he is street smart. His demeanor changes and his eyes go wild. It is hard to shake him out of this state when he is on the loose. His name just sounds like "wah, wah, wah" and we become mere strangers trying to capture him.
I have memories of the wifey running around the streets of Rogers Park, only to hear screeching tires and metal colliding on metal by innocent victims trying to avoid hitting this wild beast. Another memory - driving to Michigan and stopping on the side of the road to get gas. Somehow this wicked beast got out and started running around the apple orchards off a two lane highway on the western edge of northern Michigan. Cops pulled over and tried to help. I don't know how the wifey did it, but she found him and brought him back.
All of the rescues have been accomplished by the wifey. Dog whisperer...
Yesterday... I got in the car and the wifey grabbed the stroller and the boy and we set off on our rescue mission. This time, Bogart was with Dexter and Bogart really knows nothing other than loving enclosure and the benefits of dinner and a warm bed. We stopped a person in a low riding Honda Civic and asked if he had seen our two dogs. The guy hadn't then, but returned shortly thereafter saying he had spotted Bogart at the park. Bogart was an easy rescue, but there was no sign of Dexter. We talked to a lot of local Lawrence people, who were all very nice and truly concerned for us.
We spent the next two hours driving and walking around calling his name. It was like he had disappeared into thin air. So we took a break and sent out messages to Granite State Lost Pets (GSLP) and Home Again Pet ID (HAPID). These two organizations are awesome - GSLP sends out a flyer on Facebook and HAPID sends alerts out to local vets and police with the animal's microchip number. HAPID also lets you print out flyers to put up around the neighborhood - which is what we did.
The wifey took the flyers to the park to put up and called me shortly thereafter with Dexter in tow.
IMMENSE RELIEF!!
What happened was that the gentleman we stopped in the low rider saw Dexter run by his cousin's house. He, with the help of his cousin, captured him. The cousin's dad then spent the next hour walking around the park to see if anyone was missing the dog.
I'll have another post on this topic, but Lawrence gets a lot of crap for being dangerous. It might be in places. Where we live there are families with varying levels of income. Families who are all trying to raise kids and provide basic needs for their loved ones. Deep down, we are all the same. These people went out of their way to help complete strangers. I am truly grateful.
Fast forward about 30 minutes... we go on about our morning business and get ready to head out to run errands. I go to let the dogs in and realize the gate is open and the dogs are gone.
Queue STRESS HORMONES AND PANIC!!!
We have a long history with Dexter and his wild escapades. He runs and runs and runs. He was a street dog before we rescued him, which means that he is street smart. His demeanor changes and his eyes go wild. It is hard to shake him out of this state when he is on the loose. His name just sounds like "wah, wah, wah" and we become mere strangers trying to capture him.
I have memories of the wifey running around the streets of Rogers Park, only to hear screeching tires and metal colliding on metal by innocent victims trying to avoid hitting this wild beast. Another memory - driving to Michigan and stopping on the side of the road to get gas. Somehow this wicked beast got out and started running around the apple orchards off a two lane highway on the western edge of northern Michigan. Cops pulled over and tried to help. I don't know how the wifey did it, but she found him and brought him back.
All of the rescues have been accomplished by the wifey. Dog whisperer...
Yesterday... I got in the car and the wifey grabbed the stroller and the boy and we set off on our rescue mission. This time, Bogart was with Dexter and Bogart really knows nothing other than loving enclosure and the benefits of dinner and a warm bed. We stopped a person in a low riding Honda Civic and asked if he had seen our two dogs. The guy hadn't then, but returned shortly thereafter saying he had spotted Bogart at the park. Bogart was an easy rescue, but there was no sign of Dexter. We talked to a lot of local Lawrence people, who were all very nice and truly concerned for us.
We spent the next two hours driving and walking around calling his name. It was like he had disappeared into thin air. So we took a break and sent out messages to Granite State Lost Pets (GSLP) and Home Again Pet ID (HAPID). These two organizations are awesome - GSLP sends out a flyer on Facebook and HAPID sends alerts out to local vets and police with the animal's microchip number. HAPID also lets you print out flyers to put up around the neighborhood - which is what we did.
The wifey took the flyers to the park to put up and called me shortly thereafter with Dexter in tow.
IMMENSE RELIEF!!
What happened was that the gentleman we stopped in the low rider saw Dexter run by his cousin's house. He, with the help of his cousin, captured him. The cousin's dad then spent the next hour walking around the park to see if anyone was missing the dog.
I'll have another post on this topic, but Lawrence gets a lot of crap for being dangerous. It might be in places. Where we live there are families with varying levels of income. Families who are all trying to raise kids and provide basic needs for their loved ones. Deep down, we are all the same. These people went out of their way to help complete strangers. I am truly grateful.
Sitting Man and his pretzel bites
Every morning, as long as it isn't raining, there is this man who sits on a bench in the Common in Cambridge. What the hell is he doing??? He has a cell phone and buckets of pretzel bites, so I'm assuming he's not homeless. Sometimes he wears a suit and sometimes he wears a hat. He has a book, so I would like to think he's reading, but it could just be a cover. He also smokes rolled cigarettes, and takes pictures of squirrels from his phone. Is he out of work and won't tell his family? Perhaps he has no one at home to be with. Maybe he's a teacher and likes to spend all of his summer time having business meetings with squirrels.
He is there in the morning when I go to work and there when I leave work. I've tried different times of the day and he's still there.
We exchange pleasantries. I say, "have a good weekend" and he says, "be well" -- which I respond with "thanks you too." My doctor tells me to "be well".
He's probably some spiritual leader who meditates his days away in this public park, quietly training squirrels to be circus performers and every time we exchange words, he casts a lotus spell on me.
Hypotheses aside, he is interesting to me. Sitting on a bench while the world turns around him. I have no idea what brought him to that place or point, but part of me wants to share some of it with him. I'm always in a rush to work or home from work. There obviously isn't time for me to watch the squirrels in the park, alone, eating pretzel bites, each and every day of the week from dawn until dusk, but perhaps one day, I'll take a minute and exchange more than pleasantries with him to find out his story. Stay tuned.
He is there in the morning when I go to work and there when I leave work. I've tried different times of the day and he's still there.
We exchange pleasantries. I say, "have a good weekend" and he says, "be well" -- which I respond with "thanks you too." My doctor tells me to "be well".
He's probably some spiritual leader who meditates his days away in this public park, quietly training squirrels to be circus performers and every time we exchange words, he casts a lotus spell on me.
Hypotheses aside, he is interesting to me. Sitting on a bench while the world turns around him. I have no idea what brought him to that place or point, but part of me wants to share some of it with him. I'm always in a rush to work or home from work. There obviously isn't time for me to watch the squirrels in the park, alone, eating pretzel bites, each and every day of the week from dawn until dusk, but perhaps one day, I'll take a minute and exchange more than pleasantries with him to find out his story. Stay tuned.
Tuesday, August 12, 2014
Licorice memories
I've been on this nutritional and fitness program for a few weeks now. It is definitely working, but all I really want at this particular moment is licorice. What the hell? But think about it - that sweet, tart, soft, red Australian licorice that behaves like chewy candy, but finishes like a plump, red, luscious strawberry. I like black too, but this craving is for red. I've had a love relationship with licorice since I was very young.
This weekend my son was pukey sick, which of course led to the parents becoming sick. The experience made me think of all the times I was pukey sick growing up. My worst memory of course involved licorice.
You see, I was kind of a binge eater growing up. I'd really limit myself (or my parents would), but then when I would get a free and alone moment, I would just gorge. On the particular day I'm thinking of, I rode my bike to town after school and bought some red Nibs. Not a small bag of Nibs either. I think I shoved the whole bag in my face and headed home. Long story short, I made it home and then choked big. The color alarmed my mother enough she had to get a second opinion from my dad. Of course then I had to admit I had eaten licorice, which was almost the worst part of the experience.
Either way, we are slightly traumatized from this weekend. Only this time it wasn't licorice... it was green beans.
Oh this totally worked. I don't want licorice anymore!!!
This weekend my son was pukey sick, which of course led to the parents becoming sick. The experience made me think of all the times I was pukey sick growing up. My worst memory of course involved licorice.
You see, I was kind of a binge eater growing up. I'd really limit myself (or my parents would), but then when I would get a free and alone moment, I would just gorge. On the particular day I'm thinking of, I rode my bike to town after school and bought some red Nibs. Not a small bag of Nibs either. I think I shoved the whole bag in my face and headed home. Long story short, I made it home and then choked big. The color alarmed my mother enough she had to get a second opinion from my dad. Of course then I had to admit I had eaten licorice, which was almost the worst part of the experience.
Either way, we are slightly traumatized from this weekend. Only this time it wasn't licorice... it was green beans.
Oh this totally worked. I don't want licorice anymore!!!
Saturday, July 19, 2014
Push your self GD ITTTTT!!
I won't name any names here...
I CrossFit and I coach CrossFit. I currently work with a clientele that has HUGE potential. I mean huge. They are isolated in a homogenous CF gym with no pressure to produce big results. As a result, I think they don't. My question then is - is it still CrossFit? Seriously - measuring results and constantly improving is the name of the game - unless it isn't.... Isn't it? I find myself in a new place. Really I only have one coaching CF experience and it is very different than where I find myself...
Let's see if I can draw any parenting comparisons... Nope - the deal is that things progress. Keep track of those progressions and let's continue along. If you get a 175 back squat - don't tell me to scale it back. Let's go from there? What the hell are you afraid of?
What the hell am I afraid of? I'm afraid of hurting myself or failing. I'm afraid of coming in DFL (dead fucking last). Should that stop me? No. Is that the same thing that stops these people?
Let's find comfort in the bar. Comfort in the movement. It's time to test ourselves and move. Let's engage all of those beautiful muscles. Evolution put you here and you are so strong. Don't limit. You can be far more than what you think you can be. Life is an adventure - let's get rid of the fucking routine and try something else. Push yourself!!!!
I CrossFit and I coach CrossFit. I currently work with a clientele that has HUGE potential. I mean huge. They are isolated in a homogenous CF gym with no pressure to produce big results. As a result, I think they don't. My question then is - is it still CrossFit? Seriously - measuring results and constantly improving is the name of the game - unless it isn't.... Isn't it? I find myself in a new place. Really I only have one coaching CF experience and it is very different than where I find myself...
Let's see if I can draw any parenting comparisons... Nope - the deal is that things progress. Keep track of those progressions and let's continue along. If you get a 175 back squat - don't tell me to scale it back. Let's go from there? What the hell are you afraid of?
What the hell am I afraid of? I'm afraid of hurting myself or failing. I'm afraid of coming in DFL (dead fucking last). Should that stop me? No. Is that the same thing that stops these people?
Let's find comfort in the bar. Comfort in the movement. It's time to test ourselves and move. Let's engage all of those beautiful muscles. Evolution put you here and you are so strong. Don't limit. You can be far more than what you think you can be. Life is an adventure - let's get rid of the fucking routine and try something else. Push yourself!!!!
Wednesday, July 16, 2014
Water and CrossFit
There is a correlation here. My son loves water - in all forms. He tries many different methods of disbursement and bubbliness. Experimentation is the key for him and his relationship with water. The magic is that he keeps coming back to that wet, watery water. So why shouldn't I try many different CrossFits? I think this is a very similar situation. Water and CrossFit. Seriously. How many boxes are there out there and how many different types of WODS?
I'm taking a clue from my kid. I've tried 3 different boxes this week alone. Onward.
I'm taking a clue from my kid. I've tried 3 different boxes this week alone. Onward.
Tuesday, July 15, 2014
Bunnies
My son loves Peter Rabbit. He is very attached. So attached, that in an effort to prevent future freak outs, we purchased another Peter Rabbit as a back up - just in case.
The second Peter made his debut after a stomach flu episode. One Peter covered in puke isn't a snugly Peter after all. At some point Peter 1 lost his jacket. After, Walker tended to prefer Peter 2 (who had a jacket). Peter 2 would be the sleeping, napping and hanging out buddy. Peter 1 would be thrown to the floor, rejected.
We found Peter 1's jacket the other day. It was a miracle really.
Ever since returning the jacket, Walker sleeps, walks, naps, talks and plays with both Peters. There is no exclusion. Both Peters are loved and hugged equally.
Damema wonders if he will grow up to be polyamorous. Seriously? The kid is 15 months old.
The second Peter made his debut after a stomach flu episode. One Peter covered in puke isn't a snugly Peter after all. At some point Peter 1 lost his jacket. After, Walker tended to prefer Peter 2 (who had a jacket). Peter 2 would be the sleeping, napping and hanging out buddy. Peter 1 would be thrown to the floor, rejected.
We found Peter 1's jacket the other day. It was a miracle really.
Ever since returning the jacket, Walker sleeps, walks, naps, talks and plays with both Peters. There is no exclusion. Both Peters are loved and hugged equally.
Damema wonders if he will grow up to be polyamorous. Seriously? The kid is 15 months old.
Tuesday, July 8, 2014
Underwear
I forgot to pack underwear again. Yes, every night I pack my bag for the next day. I get up at 4 something in the morning; cruise down to CrossFit Medusa; either coach or work out; shower and then go to work. Underwear has been important to me over the years, though I'm not exactly sure why.
I look to my son. We put diapers on him to prevent him from peeing all over the world. In moments of freedom we think "oh it would be fun to have him run around naked in the backyard - freeing." Well, the kid would prefer to have a diaper on and becomes distressed without one. Is that similar to wearing underwear?
Seriously, not having underwear is anxiety producing. It was 90 something degrees today and I was seriously concerned about butt crack marks. (Does that ever happen?) Also, sometimes after you wipe there is (forgive me), moistness. All of that FEELING is overtly obvious in the absence of underwear.
At the same time it is freeing. I felt the distance between my butt cheeks and my pants. The air was circulating everywhere. It was easy to pee - no underwear to tackle - just pants.
In the end, I went to the Gap, bought 5 pairs of undies for $25. I'm throwing them in the car in case I forget again. Seriously, I would never live down butt crack marks...
I look to my son. We put diapers on him to prevent him from peeing all over the world. In moments of freedom we think "oh it would be fun to have him run around naked in the backyard - freeing." Well, the kid would prefer to have a diaper on and becomes distressed without one. Is that similar to wearing underwear?
Seriously, not having underwear is anxiety producing. It was 90 something degrees today and I was seriously concerned about butt crack marks. (Does that ever happen?) Also, sometimes after you wipe there is (forgive me), moistness. All of that FEELING is overtly obvious in the absence of underwear.
At the same time it is freeing. I felt the distance between my butt cheeks and my pants. The air was circulating everywhere. It was easy to pee - no underwear to tackle - just pants.
In the end, I went to the Gap, bought 5 pairs of undies for $25. I'm throwing them in the car in case I forget again. Seriously, I would never live down butt crack marks...
Wednesday, May 7, 2014
I'm turning 40 - HOLY CRAP!!
Actually I'm not that scared about it... That said, in my 40th year, I do want to clean up some things in my life, starting with my job. (Check! Start the new gig May 27.) Too much stress, not enough time with my family makes cortisol levels rise along with alcohol and carb consumption. Next on my list is my diet and the last on the list is to wean myself off of these anti-depressants I've been on for the last several years. Mostly I was on them to ease my anxiety, which can get very out of control.
This transition will likely turn this blog into a boring food and emotional status journal. Hopefully there will be something entertaining about it.
The adventure starts June 1, 2014. 
This transition will likely turn this blog into a boring food and emotional status journal. Hopefully there will be something entertaining about it.
The adventure starts June 1, 2014.
Sunday, March 16, 2014
Struggling through an injury
Yes, it is true. We are not superheroes. We bleed and we break down.
I'm going to cut to the chase here. If you have pain - pay attention and tend to your shit.
I chose to ignore my nagging achilles pain after "tweaking" my ankle while playing volleyball (under the influence of a couple of norcal margaritas). I don't suggest that anyone train while under the influence by the way. It was a moving party... In any case, I digress. That was the late summer/fall of 2012.
I really thought that by limiting my jumping and running, the pain would eventually get better. What started out as achilles pain ended up turning into heel and achilles pain. The heel pain was very specific and felt like a wooden spike being shoved into my bone. (This is now summer of 2013, btw.) What changed? 1) I started lifting heavier and doing more hypertrophy training; 2) I put on weight from said hypertrophy training; 3) I started commuting by train, adding many more miles of walking to my daily routine.
Finally in Oct 2013, I got things checked out by a doctor. Turns out there was a heel spur, a small tear in my achilles and an inflamed plantar fascia (though at the time, my symptoms weren't consistent with plantar fasciitis). I went to PT (a shout out to Gemini Physical Therapy in Haverhill) where the achilles pain was treated. After treatment things were better, but the heel pain remained. My doctor told me the injury was difficult to treat and that I couldn't injure myself further. I think as a type-A personality that was sort of a challenge. "Could I hurt myself further?" Of course!
It was about this time that I thought that sprint training would be an ideal addition to my training routine. Right, because pounding on the bottom of my foot was a good idea. Anyway, you all are probably thinking I'm the ultimate masochist by this point. The reality is that the pain would wax and wane, as would the intensity of my work outs.
Eventually I returned to the doctor with full blown plantar fasciitis and a pissed off heel spur. His solution to the problem was to shoot it with cortisone right then and there. Um - no thanks. So I searched out a second opinion...which landed me in a boot and out of working out for 6 weeks.
So, here I sit - at a crossroads and the decision is mine.
Own your injury silly. Own it! I have a bum heel. That means I cannot run, nor can I jump, nor can I over-load that foot. I let this get too out of control. Don't let your shit get too far out of control. Pay attention. Pain tells you something. Don't ignore it.
I'm going to cut to the chase here. If you have pain - pay attention and tend to your shit.
I chose to ignore my nagging achilles pain after "tweaking" my ankle while playing volleyball (under the influence of a couple of norcal margaritas). I don't suggest that anyone train while under the influence by the way. It was a moving party... In any case, I digress. That was the late summer/fall of 2012.
I really thought that by limiting my jumping and running, the pain would eventually get better. What started out as achilles pain ended up turning into heel and achilles pain. The heel pain was very specific and felt like a wooden spike being shoved into my bone. (This is now summer of 2013, btw.) What changed? 1) I started lifting heavier and doing more hypertrophy training; 2) I put on weight from said hypertrophy training; 3) I started commuting by train, adding many more miles of walking to my daily routine.
Finally in Oct 2013, I got things checked out by a doctor. Turns out there was a heel spur, a small tear in my achilles and an inflamed plantar fascia (though at the time, my symptoms weren't consistent with plantar fasciitis). I went to PT (a shout out to Gemini Physical Therapy in Haverhill) where the achilles pain was treated. After treatment things were better, but the heel pain remained. My doctor told me the injury was difficult to treat and that I couldn't injure myself further. I think as a type-A personality that was sort of a challenge. "Could I hurt myself further?" Of course!
It was about this time that I thought that sprint training would be an ideal addition to my training routine. Right, because pounding on the bottom of my foot was a good idea. Anyway, you all are probably thinking I'm the ultimate masochist by this point. The reality is that the pain would wax and wane, as would the intensity of my work outs.
Eventually I returned to the doctor with full blown plantar fasciitis and a pissed off heel spur. His solution to the problem was to shoot it with cortisone right then and there. Um - no thanks. So I searched out a second opinion...which landed me in a boot and out of working out for 6 weeks.
So, here I sit - at a crossroads and the decision is mine.
Own your injury silly. Own it! I have a bum heel. That means I cannot run, nor can I jump, nor can I over-load that foot. I let this get too out of control. Don't let your shit get too far out of control. Pay attention. Pain tells you something. Don't ignore it.
Thursday, March 13, 2014
Change is in the air
The deal is that I spend too much time talking about how things aren't how I want them to be and not enough time about what I want and where I'm going. The reality is that I'm scared. I feel an obligation to be the the stable-income provider for the family. I have this block and it circulates around having health care and paying my bills. I get stuck in thinking that the only way to have these two things is to stick to the same routine I'm in now. This routine leaves me unhappy, dissatisfied and just plain pissed off. When I talk or think about having a different routine, I get mad at myself and think I "should be grateful" or "I have my basic needs met, why do I need more?"
What I want.
I want to help people move. Plain and simple. I want to get people off their asses. I want those who are immobile and depressed to find hope through movement. I want to help people find community through movement. I want to help people accomplish things they never thought they could.
What I have.
Currently I am working at Harvard to bring home a stable income and provide family healthcare. The commute is long and I feel there is very little left of me at the end of the day. I have a healthy son, a wife that can stay home with him. I have a vibrant gym community and money to pay my bills. I have 2 cars and a roof over my head.
At the same time, I work at a CrossFit gym where I get to do what I want. There are gaps though. CrossFit is expensive and doesn't necessarily attract the types of clients that I want to ultimately get moving. That said, I get to see and help people accomplish things they never thought the could, day in and day out. Would I drop my day job and work at CrossFit (if it provided healthcare and a steady paycheck)? Yes, but CrossFit isn't without it's problems.
I am also studying to sit for the Certified Strength and Conditioning Specialist (CSCS) exam. What I'm finding is that I have little time to devote to studying. It isn't easy stuff either. I have to relearn exercise physiology and bioenergetics. Stuff that I haven't studied since 1993. I actually have to STUDY.
I will also be attending the Functional Movement Systems (FMS) training in a couple of weeks. This will give me the FMS certification and more tools to use when assessing a person's mobility and stability prior to training them.
All of this sounds great, right? Why do I feel so stuck? I should be grateful for what I have while I work toward what I want - right?
I find this is where I get caught up. I go around and around and around -- scared to say "no". Scared to say "yes". Scared to fail. Scared to fail at providing for my family. Scared to take the next step. Scared to make a change. Scared to succeed. Scared to love my life. Overwhelmed by the details of what is possible.
This is the crux of the matter and I am going to use this blog to document my progress and hold myself accountable for taking steps toward what I want.
What I want.
I want to help people move. Plain and simple. I want to get people off their asses. I want those who are immobile and depressed to find hope through movement. I want to help people find community through movement. I want to help people accomplish things they never thought they could.
What I have.
Currently I am working at Harvard to bring home a stable income and provide family healthcare. The commute is long and I feel there is very little left of me at the end of the day. I have a healthy son, a wife that can stay home with him. I have a vibrant gym community and money to pay my bills. I have 2 cars and a roof over my head.
At the same time, I work at a CrossFit gym where I get to do what I want. There are gaps though. CrossFit is expensive and doesn't necessarily attract the types of clients that I want to ultimately get moving. That said, I get to see and help people accomplish things they never thought the could, day in and day out. Would I drop my day job and work at CrossFit (if it provided healthcare and a steady paycheck)? Yes, but CrossFit isn't without it's problems.
I am also studying to sit for the Certified Strength and Conditioning Specialist (CSCS) exam. What I'm finding is that I have little time to devote to studying. It isn't easy stuff either. I have to relearn exercise physiology and bioenergetics. Stuff that I haven't studied since 1993. I actually have to STUDY.
I will also be attending the Functional Movement Systems (FMS) training in a couple of weeks. This will give me the FMS certification and more tools to use when assessing a person's mobility and stability prior to training them.
All of this sounds great, right? Why do I feel so stuck? I should be grateful for what I have while I work toward what I want - right?
I find this is where I get caught up. I go around and around and around -- scared to say "no". Scared to say "yes". Scared to fail. Scared to fail at providing for my family. Scared to take the next step. Scared to make a change. Scared to succeed. Scared to love my life. Overwhelmed by the details of what is possible.
This is the crux of the matter and I am going to use this blog to document my progress and hold myself accountable for taking steps toward what I want.
Wednesday, January 15, 2014
Pull it together
I have a vision, which I need to focus on. I need to focus on the vision and not the chaos. The vision is what is important. Each step in the direction of fulfilling the vision is the focus. This other stuff...is what it is. I can only do what I can do and what I can do is to stop getting caught up in the stuff.
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