On my knees... please?

The games #2 WOD posted.  Ug.  

9- 100# deadlifts

12 - ‘proper’ push ups

15 - box jumps

What a fucking joke.  I have a 300# deadlift but I can’t muster three ‘proper’ push ups.  I’m going to claim it’s because I have a torn rotator cuff.  But... let’s be honest.  I’m a fucking slacker and I’ve managed to pussy myself through them for the past year on my knees.  Now that I’m being forced to be a big girl I may have some problems.  So... count me in for 11 total reps!!  I’m guessing I can manage about two full plank push ups.  That gives me about 14 minutes of ‘what the fuck’ time before the clock runs out.  I’ll be sure to let you know how it goes.

Ironically... I got sick today.  I think it’s the psychosomatic response to “Oh, shit... I can’t do push ups.”  I spent my day in bed - doing what I do best, a lot of nothing with a smattering of whining.  That leads me into another bad habit I have when I’m sick.... eating.  Not just snacking but full fledged... strap on the feed bag... no calorie left behind eating.  I’ve convinced myself that a high carb, high sugar intake is like a good dose of vitamin C - really good for you.  I’ve also come to realize that somewhere in my mind calories don’t count when no one witnesses you consuming them.  Anyone else experience this phenomenon?   In some of my worst psycho bingeing phases I have been known to put candy wrappers in the shredder so no one would find out, therefore calorie-less!  In attempts to control my bingeing I have thrown away perfectly good food..... only to dig through the trash to get it back out.  In response to this psycho (and mildly disgusting) behavior I now have to sabotage the food with a cleaning product, preferably Windex (the pump spray feature is necessary for a streak free coating).  Another method I have is the “Hey Honey... can you please take this from me and HIDE IT!”  Corin (a little intimidated) removes the bag of shit food (tonight was chocolate covered acai berries) and hides it.  Within an hour I’m searching the house and subsequently yelling at him because I can’t find it.  (If I do find it and eat it... I’m upset with him for not hiding it well enough).  What that poor man goes through!  I know that many of you just nodded your head in agreement.  Watch yourselves...

Words can’t relay the severity of this ‘syndrome’ when it coincides with PMS!  Shit.. that’s a whole other blog.  ;0)  I’m off to bed... after a quick snack.

Botox and Botched Boobies

There hasn’t been a lot to blog about lately.  Other than taking a 14# medicine ball to the boob today from a 12 foot target...  not much of interest has happened.   Tomorrow the games WOD #2 will post.  I’ll be sure to update you on the next vomit inducing endeavor.  My score last week landed me in a spot far, far,  from first place.  :0)

I went in for a face peel today.  The PA facilitating my “rejuvenation” had the skin of a toddler.  I mean perfect.  I was immediately sold on whatever she suggested and willing to mortgage the house to do so.  It took all of 30 seconds for me to sign a waiver and hand my credit card over for a little Botox intervention.  So, in about ten days I will lack the muscular ability to furrow my brow, thus looking (at least) 15 years younger.  My plan was to not say anything to anyone. To my credit, I waited about five minutes before I called my first friend to relay the news.  For those of you who know me - that’s a big deal that I waited that long.  

This takes me to the topic of plastic surgery.  I’ve heard many women talk about it.  Many of them shy or embarrassed at the thought much less the execution.  Because I lack a ‘shy’ gene I’m happy to relay my feelings, opinions and lists of potential fix-ups from the rooftop.  Due to CrossFit I’m proud to announce that I have an AMAZING set of six pack abs.  I’m not so proud to announce that they are buried underneath an unsightly muffin top or “fanny pack” as I sometimes call it.  So, there’s your first visual.  Onto the boobies....  Let’s just say that without a good push up bra I look like I should have a disk in my lip and be on the front of  National Geographic.  (Side note- I had to give up yoga because my boobs nearly suffocated me once in the ‘plow’ position.  It wasn’t pretty.)   I’ve already been evaluated for a little nip, tuck and suck to the tune of... well, a lot of money.  My biggest concern is not the money or pain but my lack of frontal lobe (the area of YOUR brain the controls impulse and social filtration).  I lack this device in sober situations.  If you toss in a few martinis God only knows what I’m capable of.  I’ll be ‘that girl’ showing everyone my new rack.  

Someone asked me, “What happens if you don’t like the result.”  I don’t know how that’s fucking possible.  I’ve seen the random botched set of boobies.  Ya know, the ones where one nipple is aiming toward the ceiling and the other is heading toward the floor?  Even that would be a big step up from tube socks with tennis balls.  I guess.. if I’m really unhappy with the result I can find another doctor who offers the ‘quintuplets package.’  I can get everything re-stretched out and sagged below the waistline.  :0)  

My First Slacker Post

Oh...where to start.  I’ve never been a “blogger” nor do I follow anyone else’s.  I just see this as a good place to vent all of the comical, and never-ending, humiliating experiences I encounter on a daily basis - especially in the gym.  

About CrossFit... I approach CrossFit in a different manner than most.  Here are my main goals:  1) Maintain enough injuries so no one expects me to ever complete an “Rx” (prescribed) WOD.  2) Avoid days that involve way too much exertion, they lead to exhaustion and worse... a shower.  I, unlike my fellow CrossFitting junkies, do not wish to push myself to near death on a daily basis.  I do appreciate the occasional ‘PR’ but I’m not willing to rhabdo myself in order to have a good score placed near my name on the infamous white board of elite fitness.   

I was talked into competing for the games on Wednesday.  I can’t think of a scenario that would actually involve me making it to the games so don’t be fooled - there is NO chance.  The WOD was AMRAP (as many reps as possible) 10 minutes - 30 double-unders and 15 snatches.  If you don’t know what this means... just understand it fucking sucks.  Now.. snatches - not a big deal.  Double unders = problem.  I can manage the little buggers but it’s not pretty.  First, there is no bra strong enough to contain my breasts without impeding my breathing.  Second, I have killer shin splints with a little compartment syndrome thrown in - shit awful painful.  Third, child birth.  Need I say more?  Of course not, but I will.  I almost forgot the fourth.... flogging.  I equate the unfortunate event of a missed double under with a speed rope to being flogged.  Maybe worse.  These self inflicted injuries leave you covered in welts that look something like an S&M bondage moment gone bad.  Unfortunately when you’re AMRAPing for time there is no ‘safe’ word, just reps for time.

I encouraged my judge to bust my ass.  If I’m not repeatedly screamed at during a workout and forced to push myself I will likely take a potty break and practice some karaoke mid WOD.  Patrick (my judge) was wonderfully supportive and repeatedly reassured me that only HE could tell I was peeing my pants during the double unders.  Not sure if this was helpful but it was really fucking hilarious at the time.  At the end of my workout I was able to remain vertical and the details of my breakfast were still contained.  Getting ready to ‘in-your-face’ my amazing AMRAP score of seven rounds and some change my judge delivered the devastating news.  “Great job Ashley!  You killed three rounds and 33 reps!”  What the fuck!?!  Seriously?  I’m near death, covered in welts and completely humiliated for three rounds?  I pissed myself for THREE rounds!?!   So, I gathered my speed rope, ice bags and Ibuprofen and headed home for... a shower.

Currently ranked in a solid 776th place.  I’m representin’ for team MBS!!

Coming soon.... Pole dancing and strip club adventures!