Clear Eyes. Full Heart. Can't Lose.

A year ago yesterday, I walked through the garage door of Guerrilla Fitness CrossFit Montclair for a trial class. I was given an extremely simple sample workout that left me physically and mentally broken.

After what I can only refer to as a "top-notch shit show", highlighting my absolute lack of athletic ability, I sprawled out on the gym floor like a beached whale. For what seemed like hours, I remained immobile, staring at the ceiling, gasping for air, and hoping that no one was paying attention to the fluffy girl dying a slow death in the back corner. As soon as I could summon enough strength to use my legs again, I left through the same garage door, disoriented, and confused. I fully expected this walk of shame to be met with glares of disapproval and judgement from all of the super fit and beautiful CrossFitters. Much to my surprise, the very opposite occurred. I was followed out of the gym by a fanatical wild-woman emphatically shouting positive reinforcement at me, including how "sexy" I just made the workout look. I was shocked and bewildered by this random act of encouragement, and convinced that this girl must have been losing her god-damned mind. However, it was that brief encounter with the crazy lady that ultimately encouraged me to sign up. That lunatic of a woman is named Dana, and she continues to encourage and inspire me everyday.
 

It may seem odd that I'm tracking the day I entered into a sadistic relationship with a warehouse full of complete strangers, but walking into the gym for my trial class was the most monumental thing I've done since marrying that tall drink of water I call my husband (who, as an FYI, will be agitated that I can remember this date, but not our wedding date...or his birthday...or almost anyone's birthday for that matter).

When I signed the initial contract, I was pretty sure that I could just as easily throw that money directly into the shitter, betting that I wouldn't be able to stick with CrossFit once the real workouts started. Well, slap my ass and call me Sally, because a year later, I'm still getting wiped out by workouts and living to tell about it. In fact, my mind is warped so bad from pounding the proverbial Kool-Aid, that instead of "cherry picking" my programming, I have started to intentionally sign up for the type of workouts I hate the most. SO, what would be more awful then signing up for the CrossFit Endurance program? I'll tell you...absofuckinglutely nothing!
 

I hate running. I hate running. Oh yeah...I HATE RUNNING. Everytime it shows up in a workout, I fight the urge to fake my own death (see also: burpees). It hurts. It takes a lot of effort. It takes a lot of focus. It takes a lot of breath, which is awful when you have no choice but to pant like a rabid dog while you do it! It's not pretty. It's mentally grueling. It's my worst nightmare. I have avoided doing it my whole life.

When I played softball, I relied on my brute strength (read: fat ass) to hit home runs as often as possible to allow my chubby ass the convenience of getting around all of the bases in a very lazy jog. When it was time to run during practice, I found anyway possible to entertain the coaches into missing the fact that I wasn't running with my teammates. We were supposed to run the mile in gym, twice a week, every week, during high school. Would you believe I had my period almost every single day from 1994 - 1998? My gym teacher did. In a freak coincidence, my period magically disappeared during the classes where we played badminton. [Don't hate! Badminton is a very hardcore game based on optimal athleticism and awesomeness. Additionally, I will never grow tired of screaming "shuttlecock" at the top of my lungs.]

In summary, I would have begged, stolen, and possibly stabbed someone to avoid running as a kid. Now, as an adult, while slightly less dramatic, I wouldn't necessarily say that I have been above groveling while batting my luxurious eyelashes to get out of running, but being dedicated to overall self-improvement, I realized all of the grovelling and eyelash batting had to stop. Running is obviously something that I'm afraid of. Running is something that I've always assumed I'd be horrible at...mostly because I've never tried it. So when the opportunity came up to register for the CrossFit Endurance program, I thought long and hard about whether or not I could dedicate myself to something I hated so much, and then I bit the bullet and signed up. Naturally!

I just completed my first month of Endurance. This last month of training has been reminiscent of my first month with CrossFit, just a year ago. Every Wednesday and Friday, I have to psyche myself into showing up to the track. As soon as the workout starts, I have to fight an all-encompassing and overwhelming urge to quit...but I haven't. As much as I want to stop mid-way, lay down on the track, and admit defeat, there is some secret part of me that kicks in, gets super pissed, and pushes me across the finish line.

After a month of sweat and soreness, I, in no way, shape, or form LOVE running. In fact, I still hate running, but my level of hatred has slowly been subsiding. I hate it less each time I run a little bit further. I hate it less each time I run a little bit faster. I hate it less each time my rest period is up, and I know for sure that I'm not going to die once my feet start moving again. I hate it less each time I get in my car, knowing that I have free will, and could have stopped at any moment, but that I kept running. Of course, it very hard to keep hating something so fervently, when you have two amazingly sweet and supportive coaches, who are so passionate about running, and so genuinely invested in the success of their students.

So, the year has made quite a difference. I don't feel the same. I don't look the same. All in all, I'm really not the same. I still lay on the gym floor or the track grass like a beached whale from time to time, but I don't handle my fears and obstacles in the same way. Instead of ignoring them or hiding from them, I hunt them down and kick them straight in the taint. And hopefully, this time next year, when I hunt those bitches down, I'll be doing so at a sub 8-minute mile pace.

When the Switch Gets Flipped

The Paleo challenge is officially over, and the results are in! For the first time since starting CrossFit 10 months ago, the scale has moved...UP...and I couldn't be happier!

That's right.  After 6 weeks of the strictest Paleo diet I could manage, and 10 months of workouts more grueling than my former Wendy's-for-every-meal-eating, couch-dent-making, 250-pound-self could imagine, I gained 1.5 pounds - and I'm PROUD of every ounce.

Are you confused?  Are you convinced that I'm doomed to be a rolly-polly forever, because I can't clean up my foolishness?   Well, whip out your calculator, and run this math, homeskillet.  That net gain of 1.5 pounds on the scale is coupled with a loss of 15 inches over 10 months.  5 of those inches were lost during the last 6 weeks alone (read: Paleo challenge).  So, I will proudly wear those 1.5 pounds, because it's obviously not fat - it's plain old Cock Diesel bitches.  It's 1.5 more pounds of badassness.  It's 1.5 more pounds of awesome that I will use to move heavier things around on a big, long, beautiful, and tubular...steel bar (your minds are always in the gutter).

 

This has been the most enlightening and liberating 6 weeks.  I told you your scale is a douchebag, and I was serious.  I told you I don't care about being skinny anymore, and I ain't even tryin' to bullshit you.

Let me tell you what I do care about now...RXing.  For those readers unfamiliar with RXing, it's doing the workout as prescribed.  Of course, as I've said before, in CrossFit, everything is scalable, which makes it an awesome workout for folks of every size, age, and fitness level.  If the workouts weren't scalable,  it wouldn't have been possible for me to do CrossFit AT ALL 10 months ago, being that I was the poster girl for the UNfit.  With that being said, every workout is designed for elite athletes, to be performed in a certain way, and at a suggested weight (depending on if you're male or female).

I started CrossFit in the hopes of not dying at an early age (or before the workouts ended) but that's not enough anymore. The switch has flipped.  I don't care how long it takes, or how hard I have to work, but I want to start seeing big, fat, "RX"s next to my name on the whiteboard.

I FINALLY got my double-unders.  I'm running on my  non-WOD nights.  My hands are covered in blisters,  but I'm popping out a jumping chin-up or two every time I walk past the Iron Gym we recently hung over our bedroom door. I'm making plans to conquer the 20" box jump during a WOD.  I'm making steady strength gains.  I'm slowly getting faster.  I'm taking less breaks.  I'm getting more comfortable working through  moments of pain.  I'm getting out of my own head.  And apparently, I've got "the walk" now, when I stroll around the gym (or so I was told).  I think that must be confidence.  I've never had that before.

That's the thing about CrossFit, you are constantly being dared to do things you either don't want to do, or things don't think you can do.  BUT, once you do these things (because you can basically do anything with enough hard work), you want to do them harder, faster, AGAIN!  The minute you blast past a physical or mental barrier, you get an itch.  You have to move on to something else that you haven't quite mastered.  You have to move onto something else that has been intimidating you.    It's a vicious cycle of bettering yourself, and it starts to positively infect every other aspect of your life.  So if you are reading this, and you are STILL thinking that you can't do these things, you are missing the point, and you are, beyond the shadow of a doubt, wrong.  I went from a blubbery sack of jelly to someone who has the potential to be an OK CrossFitter in less than a year.

Maybe CrossFit doesn't interest you, and that's cool baby.  Think about something else you can do that's going to push you to your limits, and just start doing it.  Do it for a minute.  Do it for 5 seconds.  Just do it with passion.

You'll thank yourself for it...years from now when you're enjoying your great, great grandchildren (in ways the other geezers on your block won't be able to).  What are you waiting for?  Flip the switch!

You've Got This!

My body is still  filled with the sweet ache of last week's workouts, which...if I may add (with a celebratory pat on my own back), included a WOD at RX weight, and my first successful big girl box jump.  That's right, people.  I made 65# overhead squats and a 20" box  my bitch.  These accomplishments, which some may consider minor, have set a fire under my big old ass, and it's burnin' baby!  I'm clear-headed.  I'm determined.  I'm happy.

It's Monday.  This would usually be enough to piss me off, but I don't give a shit.  Bring it Monday.  You are just another day to me. I'm ready to demolish you, and this week - the final week of the nutritional challenge.  I've got it in the bag, bitches.

Why do I CrossFit?  Reason #24,509: 

I grew up as the only girl on an all-boy street.  Being a rotund little gal without a whole lot of athletic ability, I was always being made fun of for the things I couldn't do. Every once in a while, I would emerge on the winning side of a physical scuffle, but I could always count on being picked last, if they let me play at all.   And yes, the boys would throw me a bone during hockey season, but being tied to a net and taking full-force slap-shots is still not my idea of a good time, with or without the protective gear. 

Life is unfortunately filled with tons of people who are just waiting to tell you about the things you can't do.  

Every night I walk into the box a little bit nervous or scared because I know I'm going to have to do something I've never done before.  Whether I'm having to run a little farther, or push a new weight, I'm tempted to tune into the distant voices in my head from those neighborhood boys, taunting me, and telling me that I'm not good enough, strong enough, fast enough, skinny enough, etc., but I can't.  Their voices get muffled.  I just can't concentrate on them when I have a room full of people telling me - shouting at me, actually, that I CAN do it.  These people are sincerely confident in me and my abilities, and they will scream at me, and for me, until my clock stops.  They believe in me.  They believed in me when I walked into the gym 10 months ago unable to air squat, and they believed in me last week as I squatted 65 pounds, overhead.  They literally held my hand until I was comfortable jumping on the 20" box by myself.  They stood on the sidelines like proud parents, nodding their heads in approval to let me know that not only am I good enough, but that that they know I'm going to be even better than I am today, tomorrow.  This is a group of people who don't necessarily care whether I'm the fastest, or the fittest, or the smartest, or the prettiest.  They are just genuinely interested in my happiness and success, despite the fact that my accomplishments bring them nothing but joy and communal pride.  That is why I CrossFit. 

Clear eyes. Full hearts. Can't lose. GFCM.

The Scale is an Ignorant Douchebag!

Hello, Nutritional Challenge, Week 5.  I'm ready for you!

I am first, and foremost, shocked that  I've made it this far into the challenge with only one major fuck-up (I went a little off the deep-end on Friday) and a few minor digressions.  I had very little faith in the amount of willpower I could muster for this, but it sure as shit helps knowing that my team and coaches will inevitably see every single morsel I shove down my pie-hole. 

I had initially anticipated every day of this six-week challenge, hanging over me like a dense fog, suffocating my will to live, enveloping me in pain and an all-consuming feeling of deprivation, but, HELL, I'm almost sad this horse-and-pony-show is ending.  It's been relatively smooth sailing since I got past the "carb flu", a full week of intense sugar cravings, and a heavy bought of what I'll refer to as "bitcharrhea."

I'm finding that I have energy to burn, and that I'm not having to obsess about everything I put in my mouth.  I am still logging all of my food to see where everything is shaking out, but I'm trying not to have a heart attack about it.  It's definitely strange seeing your fat intake hovering around 60% when you've been told your whole life that it's the essence of all that is evil.  I keep repeating to myself, "fat is good, fat is good, fat is good."  Of course, it's easier to believe that mantra as I continue to stay more satisfied, having to eat less.  BUT the real kicker is, that with ingesting amounts of fat that would shock the average American, I'm slowly getting the body shape I've always wanted. 

Speaking of body shape, even though I promised I would stop giving a shit about the scale a few blog posts ago, I sorta dusted that bitch off, and have been letting her dictate my moods, my understanding of how I am progressing - and ultimately letting her ruin my life and depreciate my self-worth despite what I have been seeing in the mirror.

You see, while many of my fellow challenge-mates have been dropping scale weight like crazy after going balls-deep into Paleo,  I have been teetering between a loss of three pounds and a net gain of half a pound.  With so many people having noticeable scale success, I started feeling like a big fat failure, despite losing inches. 

I brought my concerns to Gregg (very wise and incredibly handsome [he'll like that part] Coach and owner of Guerrilla Fitness CrossFit Montclair).  I said, "I feel like I'm doing something wrong, because I'm not losing weight."  He said, "Do you look better, feel better, and are you performing better?"  I answered, "yes" to all of his questions (although, I'm sure the part about me looking better was rhetorical, because, come on - have you seen me lately?  Just kidding. Not really.) Anyway, he said, "Jill, if you want to see the scale move, keep doing Paleo, and quit your membership here."  I let that marinate for a moment. I could cancel my CrossFit membership, continue to do Paleo, and maybe see the numbers I've been dying for on the scale, but then I would probably just end up "skinny fat."  It's time for hard facts kids. Although I was made to be extremely adorable, God did not make this homegirl to be petite.  Maybe I come from a long-lost lineage of Italian vikings?  Maybe I was destined to be a wrestler in the WWF?  Either way,  I may never lose enough weight to register as a healthy female on the U.S. Government's weight charts, but I'm not going to let those charts define me or depress me anymore. I'm sure I'm healthier than half the women who fall within the "acceptable" guidelines anyway.   I'm going focus on continuing to gain muscle, speed, and strength. If that venture makes me gain weight on the scale, fuck it. My husband thinks I'm hot, and I could probably crack nuts with my thighs. Those are the things that matter (especially the nut cracking part).

So, in summary, the challenge is going uber-great and I love my Guerrilla community. It's teaching me so many things about myself, and it's helping me to destroy some demons I've been dealing with for as long as I can remember.  Even though I have not been an infallible participant, I am confident that I have jump-started what will hopefully be a new dietary lifestyle.  And although I'm the same weight I was when I started CrossFit in May of 2011, I've lost to date (drumroll, please): 4.5 inches off my waist, 4 inches off my hips/butt, 3 inches off my bust, 2 pants sizes, and 2 minutes off my "Helen" time.  It took me way too long to truly believe the scale is most certainly a tried and true douche. So fuck you scale, you worthless bag of dicks!

In other news, to further my understanding of the Paleo way of life, I'm going to a seminar this Saturday hosted by Diane of Balanced Bites.  She has a wealth of knowledge about Paleo nutrition that she openly shares on her blog and podcast, both of which are great resources to check out if you haven't, but I'm excited to get a full day of education from her under my belt.  Best of all, Brandon has agreed to come along!  Let me know if any of you are interested in coming along with us.

With that, a bit of advice from yours truly.  Eat clean, exercise hard with people you love, sleep well, destroy your scale, and be happy!

I Want Candy

We are almost through with week three of the nutritional challenge, and I am having wild cravings and food hallucinations.  The first two weeks went so well that I thought the last four would be a breeze...not so much. I've been hungry non-stop, and sugar, which was mostly unappetizing until Sunday, is now all I can think about.  I blame this mostly on Paula Dean.  I don't want to be over-dramatic, but she is clearly a life-ruiner.  I think I noted that during the challenge, I would be avoiding watching The Food Network.  While I generally enjoy shows about food and cooking, they put naughty ideas in my head and lead me to make poor nutritional choices.  Well...I was having some back spasms on Sunday (post Guerrilla vs. Guerrilla), and wound up laid out on the couch while Brandon ran to the store for pain meds.  I noticed too late that he had inadvertently left me immobilized, with the remote out of reach, and tuned into Paula Dean, who was making some sort of ooey gooey butter cake concoction, which lulled me into a hefty 4 hour nap.  I woke up from that nap cranky, nasty, ravenous, lacking resolve, and itching for sugar.  The Diva of Diabetes set me on a rampage.

Admittedly, Paula's powers were too strong for me to ignore.  I cheated on Valentines Day.  That's right.  I am a big, fat, sugar-obsessed, CHEATER!  I had a cup of chocolate ice cream drizzled in olive oil and sprinkled with sea salt.  It was amazing - every last spoonful.  So, two out of three of my sundae items were paleo, but it was a nasty little splurge.  To my credit, it wasn't a wasted "cheat."  It would definitely fall into the category of cheats that are MAJORLY worth it. Like the kinda cheat you would slap yo mamma for.  BUT, instead of quelling my beastly cravings, it fed the sugar fire.  

I'm getting irritable.  I'm getting hurtful.  I'm getting violent.  I almost shanked my lovely friend/co-worker Christina for her Crumbs cupcake yesterday. She sat at her desk and enjoyed every last milky-white-rainbow -sprinkle-covered  morsel of her stuffed vanilla treat. I pouted at my desk, devising a strategy for inconspicuously putting her in a sleeper-hold so that I could jack her cupcake, take the subway to the hood, score a syringe, and somehow shoot that cakey deliciousness directly into my bloodstream so not one fucking molecule of that bad boy was wasted.   Just typing about that cursed cupcake is making my mouth water and my stomach growl.  

I'm not sure what the deal is.  Last week I was having to force myself to eat.  This week, I can't seem to find satiation. It's fucking frustrating.  I'm hoping this is just part of the adjustment or I'm going to go on a rager, mentally and physically abusing those who stand between me and their desserts.  

On a positive note, while the scale is not doing MUCH in the way of movement, I definitely can tell that certain parts of me are a little leaner than they were three weeks ago.  Workout-wise, I also feel like my endurance may be improving.  In the past few WODs, I haven't needed as much recovery time between sets. I knocked out 65 pull-ups on the green band AND had an almost-respectable "Karen" time (150 wall balls for non-CrossFitters) that involved me actually hitting the 10 foot target. 

I'm generally feeling less like a slob (except for the part where I am dreaming about eating candy bars until I explode, "Seven" style).  

It's Beginning to Smell a Lot Like Bacon, Everywhere I Go

This bacon is rated PG-13

We are balls deep into week 2 of the Guerrilla Fitness Nutritional Challenge, and instead of emitting my typically delicious scent comprised of citrus soap and Philosophy's Amazing Grace, I reek of freshly fried bacon.  Of course, as many of you meat eaters know, bacon is wonderful...it's not an alltogether awful thing to smell like.

I'm happy to report, that thus far, my newly donned pork belly eau de toilette has been the only downside to the challenge. Unless I'm hallucinating from severe carbohydrate deprivation, I feel like clean eating is giving me more energy. I've been super productive the past few days, even as I continue to nurse a lingering upper respiratory infection.  I'm sleeping great. I'm not bloated. I have no stomach pain.  The sugar cravings are getting easier to deal with, and overall, I'm just starting to feel less hungry.  I'm turning into a Paleo believer. Can I get a hallelujah?

I'm taking advantage of the recovery WOD options this week, but I'm interested to see if there are any noticeable performance improvements once I get back to the full intensity workouts.  If I carry on feeling this good, I may be running circles around you clowns and popping out one-arm pull-ups. I'll be sure to blow you a kiss with my free arm.  BOOM!

In reality, I would shit a pile of pure joy in my pants if, at the end of the challenge, I could run a 400 in less than 2 minutes and get through a WOD on the green resistance band without swallowing my own vomit.

If nothing else, this challenge is certainly a great way to further exercise self-discipline, which I had very little of before joining CrossFit.  I'm sticking to prescribed Paleo with carb restriction (below or about 50 carbs a day) as closely as I possibly can. I'm using food as fuel, as opposed to fun, for the first time; and I don't know why I'm surprised that my body is responding positively to this new methodology.  If I'm actually real-deal hungry (not just Fatty McFatterson bored) my body will give me a signal, and I, in turn, will feed it.  If I'm not hungry, there will be no signal, and I will not eat, even if it's "snack time."  What a novel concept!

Peace, love, and bacon...LOTS of bacon - Jilly

Pour Some Sugar on Me...

...just make sure none of it gets into my mouth...at least not for the next 6 weeks, because it's Nutritional Challenge time at Guerrilla Fitness, bitches!

I've been fully gluten-free since Thanksgiving, and have been tinkering with a Paleo"ish" type of diet since starting CrossFit in May. My few previous attempts at a strict Paleo challenge were flops. I bailed as soon as I caught sight of a sexy, ice-cold glass of milk or a big, thick, long, and juicy - corn on the cob (mind out of the gutter, you whores).

Generally, I am happy with the little dietary lifestyle changes that I have been able to incorporate while experimenting with Paleo, however, I'm really interested to see if I can break some of my more deep-rooted food addictions as a result of this group challenge.

I'm a sucker for sugary condiments. I'm bad at eating the proper amounts of protein. I have naughty dreams about dairy, where I gorge myself on an endless supply of whole milk that flows from marble fountains, and falls from the sky like delicious drops of teat-flavored rain...I FUCKING LOVE MILK! Listen, I don't judge your fantasies.

In order to tackle this challenge, I had to do a ton of pre-planning, I ravaged through Paleo cook books to choose my meals for all 6 weeks. I stalked some of my favorite Paleo aficionados on the old interweb for tips and tricks. I put together meal plans, shopping lists, and cheat sheets. I decided like with most things in my life, it was time to go apeshit or go home, however, Day 1 is in full swing, I'm sick as a dog, and already, visions of white potatoes dripping in maple syrup are dancing through my head. It's obvious that I need to drink some more water - and lay off the Food Channel until the challenge is over.

So wish me luck, as I expect the food hallucinations will continue until my sugar withdrawal has run its course,,,

Do You Remember the Time?

Remember when I said that once we came back from vacation I would be back to updating the blog regularly?  Well...I lied.  I'm prone to do that.  Long, drawn-out, and dramatic story short - we came home from France and work got NUTS.  I got sick, and then I got hit by a fucking biker.  I'm serious. 
[No, it wasn't a motorcyle - it was a cyclist.  No, it wasn't a bike messenger, it was a Doctor...on a bicycle...cycling at break-neck speed, straight into my precious face.  No, he didn't leave the scene.  He stayed, but he was virtually useless.  Yes, it hurt like a mother fucker - see image below.] 

YUCK.  Anyway.  THEN...I got sick again.  Then Thanksgiving came.  Then I had to go on a two week business trip.  Then Christmas crept up on me, and BOOM - it was 2012, and here we are.  I'm panting even as I write this.

In so many ways, CrossFit has made my life immeasurably better, and for the past couple of months, life has only repaid me by getting in the way of CrossFit!  Sometimes, life is an asshole (feel free to put that on a t-shirt if it moves you). 

The sporadic time off put me back to square one in a couple of areas which is humbling and absofuckinglutely maddening at the same time.  My pull-ups were getting strong before the hiatus, and if you were following, you know that I got down to a lower resistance band.  Well, take any credit you gave my fat ass back, because I'm back on the big old granny band for now.  And while I'm emotionally abusing myself...I may as well tell you that the lovely toe push-ups that I was cranking out pre-trauma (few as they were) are as extinct as dinosaurs.  In fact, not only did I lose push-ups on my toes, but I now look like sizzling bacon while performing knee push-ups.  FAIL! 

In better news, my lifts are getting heavier, my cleans are getting a little less wonky, and I've been able to Rx weight a few times (just the weight, not a full WOD).  My endurance is getting better little by little.  I didn't eat like a TOTAL moron during the holidays.  I went completely gluten-free the day after Thanksgiving, and started eating clean again with the new year.  I technically haven't lost a pound since I started in May, but I have lost two sizes and have gained a shitload of strength, energy, confidence, and friends (puuuuuuke).

My resolution for 2012 is simply to get better...at everything...CrossFit and non-CrossFit related.  In the hopes that I also get better at blogging, I'll let you know how that resolution pans out :). 

Open the Door, Get on the Floor, Everyone Eat Like a Dinosaur?

Alright.  Here it is. Time to buckle down and get serious.  I had thrown out another set of short-term goals a few posts ago, and I've met half of them already.  This means, I'm either not setting the bar high enough for myself, or I'm straight up awesome.  OK, it's true, I'm straight up awesome.  Anyway,  there are two residual short-term goals remaining from the last set.  One is to run an 8-minute mile, and the other is to complete a 30-Day Paleo challenge.  Although I don't want to overload myself with short-term goals, because my focus is already split in so many different directions,  I will add just one more for good measure.  DOUBLE UNDERS, I'm comin' to getcha!  So, what does this mean for the near future?  My guess is misery.  Just kidding.  Sorta.

To be honest, the goal that I'm most scared of tackling is the Paleo challenge.  With the holidays coming up, it's almost now or never to get it out of the way without guaranteed personal failure.  While I don't necessarily intend on having a pants-unbuttoned-Thanksgiving, I would like to enjoy a reasonably-sized piece of pumpkin pie without feeling guilt, or fear that the Paleo gods will reign their hellish fury down upon me.

Over the last 5 months, after reading The Paleo Solution, stalking message boards, and asking tons of stupid nutritional questions to those who seem to be successfully engaging in a Paleo-type lifestyle I've been able to make some major dietary changes.  While I've dabbled here and there (see Paris), bread has been kicked to the curb along with his best friend pasta.  I've been hanging around with his pals rice and corn, but not as much. Despite my tendency to gag, I've incorporated chicken and eggs into my diet and I've rekindled my relationship with red meat and bacon (OK, that wasn't tough). 

I'm hoping that with the effort I've put in so far, an attempt to eat "as clean as I can" for 30 days should not make me excruciatingly unhappy.  I know that in the end, it will probably be the best thing I ever do for my body, but it also may be the hardest test of self-discipline I've ever attempted/endured.

Now, there are several authors who have written great books on Paleolithic diets, and while they are all super smart, they all disagree on certain things when it comes down to exactly what is or isn't "Paleo."  There are also a bunch of folks on the "Paleo" message boards who are quick to call someone on the carpet when they see Paleo violations based on their personal set of Paleo laws or beliefs.  I honestly don't have the time or scientific knowledge to research who is wrong and who is right, and for the most part, I don't care.  Like religion, these people are all telling a similar story, with a great message but some different characters, and I have to take what I can from each, and move forward with what works for me. With that being said, I technically can't call what I'm about to embark on a "30-Day Paleo Challenge."  There are certain widely-accepted Paleo rules that I will knowingly not be abiding by (see below), and I'm OK with that, because in my mind, going in 85% - 95% for 30 days will be better than attempting to go in at 100% and failing on Day 1.  I will be doing the "Jill Special - A 30 Day Adventure in Clean(er) Eating."

Here's how it will go...

I will:

• Start this upcoming Monday, October 17 (mark your calendars).  This will ensure I can get in one last hurrah with an apple-spiced donut at the farm with my nieces on Sunday.  Go ahead and judge me!
• Track my starting weight and measurements on Day 1 and Day 30 and share any progress made
• Track my food consumption daily and make my food journal available to anyone who would like to see it
• Not stress too much about the amount of calories I'm consuming or my daily macro nutrient split
• Allow myself the following items which are banned or questionable during my 30 Day to ensure I don't kill myself or anyone else:  caffeine, fruit, limited feta and/or blue cheese, seeds, wine, and very dark chocolate for emergencies only
• Openly document any failures

I welcome your tips, tricks, advice, and heckling. Wish me luck!

I see London, I see France...

To any frequent readers out there, please accept my apologies for the recent blog hiatus. My big strong man and I went on a European vacation (Ooh, la la!).

We started in London, hopped over to Paris, and swung through Iceland on our way back to New York.  The vacation was romantic and relaxing - a perfect way to celebrate our anniversary! I initially had every intention of doing some hotel WODs, but due to a little bitta back pain and a whole lotta lazy, I scrapped that idea shortly after crossing the Atlantic. Upon landing, I proceeded to eat and drink my way through the trip like a kid fresh out of fat camp. 

OK, so I wasn't lying in a pile of pizza boxes, covered in chocolate syrup, but I was livin' on the edge.   I had dessert every.freaking.glorious.night and I didn't even muster a thought about the calories or nutrient breakdown in any of the delicious things I was shoveling straight down my pie hole.  Being naughty felt so damn good - until it felt really bad.  I ate freshly baked bread (fuck yeah, I did) I ate Nutella-filled crepes, I ate plain croissants, I ate chocolate-filled croissants, I ate macarons, I ate apple tarte, and then... I almost shit my underpants. TWICE. I'm serious.  No amount of Pepto could compete with the war these orgasmic treats were waging on my stomach, but regardless of these two VERY close calls (which were incredibly stressful at the time, but funny now), I continued to enjoy every flaky, buttery bite. Le sigh...those were some good times for my mouth...and my eyes - Paris is breath-taking. 

Thankfully, I left vacation accident free, but sadly, it's over, and it's time to get back to business before I spiral out of control. My first WOD back was vicious. I got that awful burny/phlegmy feeling back in my throat that I hadn't had the pleasure of feeling since my first few weeks of CrossFit (yuck).  I was sweaty, tired, and sore when it was done, but I was also utterly relieved.  Yes, of course, I was relieved that the WOD was over; there is nothing quite like moaning "Tiiimmme," after a particularly rough WOD, however, I was relieved because I was ready for more.  I was already excited to see what the next day's workout would be, and then what it would be the day after that.  A part of me was scared that I had gotten so used to being lazy again on vacation, that I would come back and lose my motivational spark, but we're all good people.  CRISIS AVERTED! 

So I'm back at the box, back on the blog, and will be back on track with nutrition once I'm done going through severe sugar withdrawal, but in the meantime, here are some progress updates!

Pull-ups:  I successfully moved up to a less resistant band (green).  I'm hoping to get to the next level (blue) before the end of the calendar year.

Push-ups:  My knee push-ups are lookin' pretty fly and I've got a good 5 or 6 in a row on my toes.  I hope to complete a full WOD on my toes (regardless of the nasty clock) by the end of the calendar year.

Deadlift: I started at 40 pounds straight out of foundations and went up to 90 shortly after.  I think I updated you last when I got up to 125.  I'm now at 165 for a 3x5.  I need a little work with my grip and form, but once I nail that, I'm lookin' forward to movin' up a smidge more :).

Nutrition:  I'm still playing around with this A LOT.  I have managed to cut out most gluten (vacation aside), and I'm focusing on getting more protein in my body, but it's still difficult for me to keep my carb count down where it probably should be without feeling miserable and unsatisfied.

Fight Gone Bad
I did my first Fight Gone Bad on 9/11.  Thank you to everyone who donated.  It was absolutely the most physically grueling 17-minutes of my life to date, and for the cause, it was worth every second. 
Check out the recap video my hubster did below:

Barbells for Boobs
We will be doing "Barbells for Boobs" at our gym on 10/29.  This is to support breast cancer.  I'm super excited to be working out for yet another great cause.  It's so refreshing to be a part of a community that spends so much time looking for ways to give back.  The link for that info is below:
http://www.barbellsforboobs.com/

Thanks so much for reading.  Feel free to post questions, comments, or topic requests directly on the blog or e-mail me directly at tattoosandpuppies@gmail.com.

Come On-a My House, I'm Gonna Give You Figs, and-a Dates, and-a Grapes and-a Cakes, Eh!

I've been procrastinating my first food-centric post, mainly because, when it comes to nutrition, I'm a hot stinking mess.  While I do love pointing the finger at myself (because I'm usually the culprit), my Sid-and-Nancy-like relationship with food was carefully cultivated at home, where there was always a stack of Entenmann's at the ready, and meatballs were fried on Sunday mornings like clockwork.

Growing up, we had dessert every night of the week. However, I was not allowed to partake in said dessert if there was even one morsel of food left on my plate. I love a good challenge.  You better believe that I would force every last molecule of pasta down my gullet, so that I could get to the pot of donut gold, waiting for me at the end of the supper rainbow. It certainly didn't help that my mom (who is secretly Irish, but trained by my Italian Nanny), cooks like a wizard, bakes like a fairy, and makes enough food at every meal to single-handedly cure the hunger problem in Africa. I shit you not, last Thanksgiving, we had an unusually small crowd - 5 adults. That nutty bitch made 2 turkeys. 2 whole fucking turkeys! Upon hearing of her plan to double up on the birds, my sister and I begged her to stop at one. Sure enough, when only half a turkey got eaten, my mom threw a shit fit. She mumbled (with a cigarette hanging out of her mouth) something about shoving all of the leftover meat up her ass... until dessert time. That's when she forgot about the turkey incident and proceeded to layout 5 pies, 2 gallons of ice cream, brownies, cupcakes, angelfood cake, berries, and a box of Entenmann's for good measure. Yes - there were still only 5 adults in the house. You should all meet my mom.

Needless to say, after being raised in the mystic land of sugar and gluttony, I emerged with a very warped view of food. Factor that in with insulin resistance, and a side of stupidity, and you have a nutritionist's worst nightmare (I've been to three separate nutritionists and I'm certain they are still recovering).

So, I will absolutely admit that I'm a moron when it comes to proper diet, but I have learned a few things from my ever-growing list of failed attempts:

• If you are looking at a new approach to your diet that sounds crazy, it's probably crazy, and you will most likely fail, and go back to eating worse than you did before. You should really find a way of eating that becomes a healthy lifestyle as opposed to a whim or quick fix
• It's been said a billion times before, but moderation is always the key. Too much of almost anything is a bad thing. That's why it's been said a billion times
• What works for me may not work for you, and vice versa. You really have to pay attention to how your body reacts to different nutritional situations. If you always have digestion related distress after eating a certain food - don't eat that food anymore you knucklehead!
• Keep a detailed and honest food log. If you are looking to improve your diet, and you aren't properly documenting what you are eating, you won't be informed enough to start to make the appropriate changes
• The earth was created with a bunch of natural food sources so that we could, well, live, I guess. While wild-caught, organic, cage-free, yadda yadda, is the best way to go if you can afford it, a super quick trick for grocery shopping is - stick to the perimeter of the store. Try to eat food that expires, and that has less than 5 ingredients. Steer clear of foods with chemicals or ingredients that you can't pronounce

With all that being said, I've been learning how to eat (doesn't that sound silly?) for the past 2 years, and I still haven't figured out what works best for me. While I've mentioned in a previous post, that the scale and I have gone our separate ways, I would still love to "lean out", so I'm in the process of trying new approaches to accomplishing that, in tandem with my workouts. These new approaches involve eating "cleaner" foods, cutting out sugars, playing around with my calorie and nutrient ratios, and enlisting the help of a food sponsor (who is probably about to shoot her phone after all of my idiotic food-related texts).

I'll let you know how it goes, but in the meantime, if you are reading this and thinking that you have a lot of work to do with your nutrition, I would say, start small and build from there! Switch from soda to seltzer. It will be rough at first. When you have learned to live without it, move on to something else. Take it from me, you can't be cured of a lifetime of poor eating habits overnight. If you are reading this and thinking that you have nutritional advice for me. Bring it on! I'll take whatever I can get.

The next post will be an update on my first Fight Gone Bad.  Thanks for reading! 

Makin' Your Way in the World Today, Takes Everything You've Got

Seriously, where the fuck did this week just go?  I am constantly asking myself this question lately, especially since I'm having more trouble than ever keeping days and dates straight. 

I work at a large accounting firm, but I'm not an accountant.  In fact, math has always been my worst subject. If by chance, you have ever had the pleasure of watching me attempt to calculate my 3x5, this will comes as no surprise to you (yes, sometimes my 40% magically becomes heavier than my 100% - whatever).  When I try to explain to people what it is that I actually do, it's exhausting, so I will spare you the boring details. In the simplest terms possible, I get paid to organize things, and I'm usually damn good at it.

I wasn't always this way, as my mom will happily tell anyone who will listen.  As a kid, I rarely knew where my text books were.  My clothes were chosen from various towering piles on my bedroom floor. I had unplanned science experiments festering in my closet, and on more than one occasion, I groggily meandered my way to school only to find out that it was a Saturday.  BALLS! 

Change came overnight.  I went from being a filthy and frazzled basket case to an organizational lunatic with obsessive cleaning tendencies.  I traded in spoiled milk for bleach, and notes written in marker on my skin to spreadsheets...mmm...spreadsheets <3.  Over the years, I created systems for the most mundane of tasks.  I made it so that no object of mine would ever exist again without a specific place that it could call its own. I resorted to maniacal color-coding.  I'm not lying.  I would color-code your grandmammy if she accidentally wandered into my closet.

This new level of insanity was relatively easy to maintain when all I had to worry about was showing up to work and ensuring that the local fast food establishments would continue to provide Brandon and I with delectable dinners.  After a 20-piece nuggie meal with large fries, various condiments, and a jumbo Diet Coke (gotta save some calories for the nightly pint of ice cream, people!), I could pay bills and organize the rest of our lives from the couch.

General life upkeep started to become increasingly more difficult as I continued to take steps to clean up our health act, and lately, I feel like the most unorganized person on the planet. I have found that no matter how hard I try, I can't keep everything together.  Little things are starting to fall through the cracks. I'm getting bills paid with seconds to spare.  Brandon had to wear his bathing suit to the WOD last night because I forgot that laundry existed.  I'm triple booking our social events.  I thought that Tuesday was Monday - until it was Wednesday.  The hard reality is, no matter which new systems I try to implement, no matter which way I rearrange, re-prioritize, or redesign our life, I can't figure out a solution for having more than 24 hours in a day.  With 8+ hours of work, planning cleaner meals, cooking those meals, taking care of shopping/errands, managing the finances, planning non-work events, investing quality time with the people I love, and getting appropriate rest, I don't know whether we're coming or going!  Inevitably I can get 80% of our lives in control before 20% of it gets blown right to shit.  I get about 2 seconds to revel in the fact that my bingo arms are shrinking, before it hits me that we are going to have to brush our teeth with gum if I don't get moving - and we don't even have kids yet!  When I refused to do anything but eat fast food and watch Law and Order, the days just seemed to go on forever.  Now, every minute between waking up and going to sleep is a blur.  It's cruel the way that all works.

I end each and every jam-packed day dizzy and exhausted, but still feeling better than I ever have.  So what am I going to do?  I'm going to learn how to let go of the small stuff for the success of the greater good.  I'm going to continue to prioritize our health.  I'm going to let a little dust build up without having a seizure, if that's what it's gonna take to keep healthy food on the table and our asses at the gym.  I'm not going to spin my head around and projectile vomit if I'm behind on the laundry YET AGAIN (but I am going to laugh if Brandon has to show up to a WOD in one of my bathing suits).

31 Heroes Update:

31 Heroes was my first CrossFit event.  I wound up getting through it alive, but it was certainly a major diarreah-inducer to watch two groups go before my turn.  The 31 minutes seemed to last forever while the others were doing it, but the clock flew by once my first thruster went up.  Brandon was my partner and we scaled big-time, but we got in 9 rounds when all was said and done.  The hardest part for me was the weighted 400 meter.  If you've been reading, you will know that running is currently a huge weakness of mine.  While adding weight to my already awful run scared me a little, seeing that the route was uphill almost made me fake my own death. Being that I had to scale so much of the rest of the workout, I promised myself that I would not walk any part of the 400s, even if it meant super barfing.  Every time I felt like switching from my sluggish jog to a walk, I thought about the brave men and women who make it possible for me to be free, and I kept my fat ass jiggling all the way up and down that hellish hill.  If you want to see some jigglin' for yourself, check out the link below, courtesy of the lovely Rebecca. Note: You may have to copy and paste it because I can't figure out how to hotspot that shit up.  

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jOvgQxmwAiM

Most of the Guerrilla Fitness CrossFit Montclair 31 Heroes Team <3

Can't Forget, We Only Get What We Give!

Does anyone remember this bat-shit-crazy-bald-headed-nut-job from the 90's? If you don't, her name is Suzanne Powter, and for a hot minute, she was all the rage in the world of fitness infomercials. I can only assume that her marketing strategy was to annoy people into buying her products. At all hours of the night, this woman would explode onto my television set screaming things like, "Stop the insanity!", and "My thighs aren't touching anymore!!" She was a huge proponent of the idea that eating fat makes people fat (I refuse to touch this one).

Needless to say, like many fitness gimmicks before and after, I fell victim to Suzie and her shenanigans.  I was chubby.  I had some birthday money to blow. I bought the book.  I was 12 (I continue to be a wet dream for marketing teams everywhere).  I'm almost positive that I read said book while eating a Snickers and performing leg lifts, before tenderly placing it in the donation pile. 

I was always looking for a quick fix, some sort of miracle diet solution that would magically transform me into whatever spokesmodel was marketing "X" product (See also: The Grapefruit Diet, The Cabbage Soup Diet, The Atkins Diet, The Ab Roller, The Zone, The Master Cleanse, The Thigh Master, The South Beach Diet, The Stacker 2 Diet (a.k.a. butt bulemia), The Cindy Crawford Workout, Sweatin' to the Oldies, Tae Bo, Walk Away the Pounds, Yoga Booty Ballet, Hip Hop Abs, Strip Tease Aerobics, etc).  I have given so much of my damn money to the fitness industry, and on not one occassion have I looked in the mirror and resembled Carmen Electra or Cindy Crawford.  There also hasn't been a single freakin' day since birth (and I'm putting it out there) where my thighs HAVEN'T touched. I'm serious folks, I was a lard covered baby - I was predestined for a certain amount of fluffiness.

Any initial motivation I was able to conjure for these plans inevitably dissipated on Day 2 when the scale did not greet me with dramatic results.   It was almost as if I expected pounds and inches to immediately melt away just because I was reading books about weight loss. It was exactly as if I expected to go to sleep looking like Fatty McFatterson and then to wake up looking like Giselle, simply because I had managed to watch a workout video.  Generally, I failed to succeed with any of these diets or devices because I was too bored, too fixated on an unobtainable end result, and too unwilling to put in any real amount of effort.

The truth is, while some of those products and diet plans were absolutely bananas, it's not that Leslie Sansone and her merry group of geriatrics failed to provide me with the proper tools to walk away my pounds, or that Richard Simmons didn't shake, rattle, and roll enough for me to burn a few calories.  The Ab Roller also didn't let me down; I'm sure that I would have had a lovely six-pack if I had used it as it was truly intended to be used as opposed to a mechanism for drying my bras.

As I get older, and a tad bit wiser, it becomes more evident everyday that the only way to get paid big is to work hard, or to get lucky - and I'm not that lucky...

...so I'm finally working hard.  Can you imagine that after three months of busting my ass at CrossFit, ignoring the scale monster, eating normal food when I'm hungry*, and having an all-around good time, I would be starting to see some sweet results?  Wild, isn't it?  Funnily enough, one of the things I'm loving most about CrossFit right now, is the weight lifting aspect, which was one of the things I was initially most turned off by.  Now, I know that there is this huge misconception out there that women will naturally "bulk up" if they lift weights.  I too, believed this theory in the past, and used it as an excuse to avoid anything that wasn't cardio at all costs. If you are a current subscriber to this concept, I'm here to tell you that I'm pretty sure you can throw that weird-beard idea right out the window.

Fact #1: because of my PCOS, I have more testosterone than a typical woman (I know - totally sexy)
Fact #2: I'm lifting weights five times a week.
Fact #3: I'm getting smaller (at least that's what people keep telling me)

I'm not telling everyone to go out there and start slinging weights around (especially not unsupervised), but if you haven't done it (and I'm lookin' at you ladies), maybe give it a try! You might find that it feels good to blow off the weight of the world with some literal weight on your shoulders.  If it's not your thing, that's cool!  What's your thing?  Does it get you moving?  Does it get you sweaty?  Do you love to do it?  Good!  Whatever that thing is - keep doing it.  Just don't continue to be a knucklehead like I was, and pretend that you are going to mysteriously get fit by half-assing it.

What it comes down to for me, is that I finally found a gimmick-free program that makes it easy for me to work hard - and it feels good - real good.


Fact #4: When I look in the mirror now, I don't expect to see anyone else. I see me getting strong, and I love it... and also...sometimes..I flex - so there.  HOT SHIT!


*I'm actually eating like a beast and could use some nutritional advice if anyone is willing to dole it out to ensure that I don't go apeshit.


Upcoming Events:


I'm participating in my first CrossFit fundraising event this weekend.  It's called 31 Heroes, it's a grueling 31 minute workout, and all proceeds will benefit the families of the brave Navy Seals who lost their lives on August 6th.  If you would like to contribute or read more about this cause, please do:  http://31heroes.com/donations/


My second event is taking place on 9/11.  It's an equally grueling workout that will directly benefit wounded soldiers, veterans, and their families.  If you can find it in your heart or wallet, even a dollar would help!  Again, to read more or contribute: https://fgb6.rapidgiving.com/frp/fundraise.aspx?pk=W7F5T1Z

Thanks for being awesome, everyone.  If you keep reading, I'll keep writing. XO

Baby, You're Makin' it Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger!

Several posts ago, I had included several short-term goals.  I will admit that while fiddling with that entry, I was hesitant to include them. I knew that once they were published, I would have no choice but to WOman up and tackle them.  It's one thing to manage self-disappointment, but it's an alltogether awful thing to manage others being disappointed in you. When I sat down to set those goals, I honestly thought they seemed lofty and distant, but nonetheless, I dedicated myself to meeting them.

I wish that I had a video of my first CrossFit workout to share. This is not to say that anything I'm doing now looks particularly pretty, but I struggled through every movement of that first WOD. It was a team workout, and Brandon had to finish a portion of my sit-ups because I maxed out at 30.  There were two 400 meter runs, and I had to walk for half of each.  I initially left wheezing, dejected, crippled, and on the verge of tears, but  thankfully, I quickly turned that negativity into determination. That was three months ago.  Never in my wildest Justin-Timberlake-filled-dreams, did I imagine that today, barely three weeks after setting my first goals, I would be writing this update to announce that - drumroll, please - I've met almost all of my original goals, and that I'm ready to set some new ones (queue "We are the Champions").

[allow me to step on my soapbox for just a moment before I get to the aforementioned goals]

For anyone who has been reading this blog and thinking that you will never be healthy or strong because it's too late to try and clean up your foolishness, I want you to stop what you're doing. I want you to tell that creepy little voice in your head, who has been feeding you this bullshit for longer than you can remember, to SHUT THE F*CK UP!  And when that voice comes back, and tries to dirty up your brain again (because it always does), rinse and repeat.  I don't claim to be an expert on much, but I am 100% sure that you are never going to get anywhere you want to be if you keep sabotaging yourself.  I was my own victim for too long.  The pity party is over folks! Now, I'm not telling everyone to go out and join a CrossFit gym, but I am telling everyone who is currently unhealthy to strongly consider doing something - ANYTHING about it. [end rant]

To keep me honest, here is a recap of progress against my original goals and documentation of my new goals...

Original Goals

1) Perform one well-executed girly push-up:  I met this goal over a week ago, and thanks to some arm-heavy programming, I've performed many since.  My once worm-like girly push-up is now stronger and plank-like.

2) Get faster on runs:  I'm still glowing about this one, being that it's the most recent of my accomplishments.  Upon joining CrossFit, I was averaging a 15+ minute mile.  If you are doing the calculation in your brain, you aren't going crazy, yes, my "run" was something more  closely related to an extremely slow shuffle.  A month ago, I clocked a mile at 10:58, which blew my mind.  Last night, driving to the gym, I told Brandon that I would shit a happy brick if I could make it back to the garage faster than that.  I don't know who looked more surprised when I rolled in at 9:18.  

3) Move from the rings to the band for pull-ups and chin-ups:  I've already updated y'all on this one, but I've now successfully completed three workouts on the band.

4) Incorporate cleaner food choices into my diet: This is going very well.  I've made significant cuts in the amount of gluten and refined sugar I'm eating, and have recently made friends with lean meats.  I'm feeling better already, but as always, I have to give you the truth, even if it isn't cute.  Like a crackhead looking for rock, I find myself in the candy bowl each and every night, unable to sleep without my daily fun-sized Almond Joy.

5) Complete a 30-Day Paleo challenge in October:  The foundation for this goal is currently being set - I just need to be sure I can avoid my Almond Joy dealer.

6) Stop whining about the things I can't do:  CHECK!  I'm currently too busy being happy about the things I can do to whine.

New Goals

1) Perform a well-executed push-up on my toes
2) Run an 8-minute mile
3) Move to the green band for pull-ups

Well, I'm off to celebrate my accomplishments by enjoying my rest day with a nice home-cooked paleo-ish meal and that tall drink of water I'm married to.  As always, thanks for all the blog love!

This Shit is Bananas!

I get 195,000 hits when I Google, "is CrossFit a cult?"
I asked trusty Mr. Google this question because some of my friends were tossing around this very idea.  Sure, they smiled and nodded like good friends do when I told them I joined a CrossFit gym, but they were secretly sitting on eggshells, carefully watching me, and waiting for the familiar and frightening glaze to start forming in my eyes. To some, I'm spontaneous and cooky.  To these life-long friends, I'm absolutely predictable. They have been through way too much with me. Because they love me like a fat kid loves cake, they knew this "CrossFit Situation" had to be handled particularly delicately, and thus, they recently "sat me down" for a mini intervention. 

Trust when i say, they had every right to be concerned as I have a long history of throwing myself into things in the most apeshit of fashions.

I will fully admit, this has always been a fatal flaw of mine. If I'm into something, I will get innapropriately obsessed with that thing (I'm talkin' utterly bananas!).  I will go rogue, cutting off all contact with the outside world, to focus on that thing, and that thing only.  I will then take that thing, no matter what it is, and rock.the.ever.living.shit.out.of.it! That is, until I get bored or hurt.

Some examples of things I've gotten into that I've taken too damn far:

• Eating
• Not Eating (see also Stacker 2 and/or 3)
• Drinking
• Not Drinking
• Jesus (I still got mad love for the big JC)
• Acid
• *NSYNC (I'm still apologizing for this phase)
• Knee-highs (this phase hasn't even started, but I'm warning you that I'm going to take it way too far)

When we get down to it, I'm a sicko with an addictive personality, and a strong tendency to partake in "cult-like" behavior. The first step is admitting you have a problem, right?

So am I drinking the proverbial Kool-Aid again?  The answer is "yes," and it's also "no".

The truth of the matter is I'm totally into this CrossFit thing. I have a huge boner for my gym.  I get a super "high" after each workout.  I love my coaches and the members. I love the results.  Honestly, I don't see how anyone could come into my gym and NOT fall in love with the program and the people.  Do I feel a strong sense of community?  Yes!  Do I find myself thinking about CrossFit all the time?  Yes!  Do I find pleasure in the pain at the end of my workout?  YES!  That sounds very cultish - but stay with me here...

While I am committed to CrossFit and my health overall, I have no plans to quit my job, shave my head, and set up a shrine to the CrossFit founders in my secret dungeon (location not to be disclosed for the safety of my future obsessive endeavors).  And while I am going harder at this than anything ever before (*NSYNC choreography aside), I trust my coaches 100%, and know that they would never even allow me to do anything if they thought it would harm me.  Shit, these coaches are so smart, they even limit the amount of times you can workout a week, because I'm sure they anticipated there would be bozos like me who would overdue it if they were able to.

I know that I am blessed with an amazing family and the most wonderful friends a girl could ever ask for, and I PROMISE that I will not lose sight of this again.  In fact, for the first time, this is an obsession of mine that I believe can exist harmoniously with the rest of the pieces of my life that are already in place. 

It's an odd thing, but when you are forced to push yourself physically, you almost have no choice but to get stronger mentally - and I THINK - because of this, I just might wind up being a better wife, dog mom, daughter, sister, friend, etc.

But as all things must come to an end, so must this post.  I'm glad my friends care about me enough to ensure I'm not drifting down crazy creek yet again!  I hope they know now that I'm going to ensure there is plenty of room in my life for my old loves and my new loves, although, they are going to have to agree to make some more room in their lives for my new muscles ;). 

If loving CrossFit is wrong, I don't want to be right! (SEXUAL CHOCOLATE)

Whoop, Whoop, Pull Over That Ass Too Fat!

I now humbly present to you, the Before and In Progress post...

To the left, I offer to you, the dreaded "Before" picture. The Porky Police should have pulled my ass over around the time that this picture was taken, but it's an awkward and awful task to tell a loved one that they are packing on the pounds (yet again) without sounding like a huge douche. This is one of the only pictures I could find of me at my heaviest, because I would delete 99% of the pictures my husband took of me out of shame.
Funnily enough, this picture probably only survived because I thought I looked thin in it.  Looking at it now, I make my 50-pound dog look like a beanie baby, and I'm larger than the sprawling Oak in the background.  I had a 40-inch waist, which I discovered during an all-time-low-moment at a dress fitting.  I was well on my way to full-blown diabetes, a heart attack, a stroke - you name it! 

To the right, I present my "In Progress" picture.  This is important to say - while it sure is nice to be able to wear cute clothes in a smaller size, and not cringe when looking in the mirror, I'm SLOWLY becoming less concerned with the scale, and more concerned about how I feel and what I can do. 

Although it makes apparent the fact that I've lost some weight, the picture to the right doesn't show that I have a better attitude, more energy, more motivation, and more self confidence. It doesn't show that I can breath better, and that I don't get sick as often, or that I don't fall into extended periods of depression anymore.  It's the improvements in things the picture doesn't show that are currently making life a whole lot better, and keeping me on track to meet new goals.  Alright...the mirror is doing a pretty good job of keeping me on track as well. 

In summary, I'm certainly proud of my progress, but I know that I still have challenges ahead. I need to work on getting stronger, faster, and eating cleaner so that I can continue to kick my PCOS in the jugular.

Short-Term Goals Update!

• I completed workout numero deux on the band instead of the rings. I quickly discovered that an all pull-up workout is much harder for me than a workout that allows you to switch from pull-ups to chin-ups.  I did it anyhow and the sweat burning my eyeballs was welcomed.
• I think my push-up form has improved.  We have push-ups tonight, so perhaps I'll have an official ruling on that in my next post.
• I have slowly started to cut out sugar and gluten from my diet and I'm feeling great!  I'm hoping that by the time October comes, my 30-day challenge should be a piece of cake.

Back Injury/Progress Update
If you read last week's post, you are aware that Grandma Jill pulled her back while applying her daily underwear :).  After a ton of foam rolling, stretching, massaging, and Aleve, I'm on the mend!  I was able to participate in modified workouts last week, and the full workout last night.  I did 30 reps of an 125# deadlift which was very exciting.  I don't have a rope climb yet, despite a few enthusiastic attempts, but I was able to rock a rope-pull from the floor pretty well.

I don't know that there is a finish line in this journey to health, and that's fine, but I'm going to keep running the race (which at my pace is an extremely slow jog...FOR NOW).

Until next time - thanks for reading!

I've Fallen, and I Can't Get Up!

Were you wondering where I've been?  I didn't think so.I'm certainly going to tell you though. 

Brandon and I returned from a long weekend in Chicago during the wee hours of the morning.  I had initially hoped that I would come back from this trip well-rested and ready to thrive at the gym, but unfortunately, my body decided otherwise...

We had a great time on Saturday and Sunday, we checked out Navy Pier and ate some of the most delicious food Chicago has to offer.  I also had a snow cone made out of vodka - SAY WHAT?!?!  We clocked about 15 miles of walking AND did a mini-hotel-room-WOD.  I was really feeling like a responsible vacationer who had fully repented for eating a Chicago-style hot dog without shame, but then, Monday morning came (Dun, Dun, Dun).  Competition fishing was on (again), I was boppin' around the hotel room deciding what to wear for my power shopping trip, when WHAM!  Don't cha know I threw my back out while reachin' down to hop into my underoos?  I wish I got hurt in a less geriatric manner, but that's the awful truth, and this wouldn't be an effective blog if I lied to you!

So now, I'm laid up on the couch, with a heating pad and a bag of frozen brussel sprouts googling "Can I WOD with back pain?"  In the past, I would have taken this as an easy excuse to freeze my gym membership for 6 to 9 months to ensure a full recovery, but that's not who I am anymore. 

Now, I'm bummed that I can't kick the shit out of tonight's WOD (2K row, 200 double under jump ropes, and a max deadlift).  I refuse to get too comfortable on this couch.  I'm going to stretch, pop Aleve and move around until WOD time.  I'm going to show up early and talk to the coach.  If I'm cleared to do a modified WOD, great!  If I can't (and coach knows best) I'll cheerlead.  The only thing I don't want to do is stay home.

Short-Term Goal Update:
While being crippled sure is a temporary downer, I do have good news to report!  At the last WOD, I officially switched from the rings to band assisted pull-ups/chin-ups. This particular WOD (lovingly referred to as the Heavy Angie) included 50 pull-ups/chin-ups.  It sure took a while to knock those suckers out, but I did it!

Coming Soon:
It's super awesome that a bunch of you have been reading this thing. You've had a bunch of great questions that I hope to address in the next few posts.  Until then, spanks for reading, and continue to believe in the healing power of unicorns...

Do it to me one more time, once is never enough...

I've been thinking about what my new short-term goals should be, and this led me to consider the short-term goals I made and achieved over the past two years.  The first came in September 2009, fresh off of a longer than usual business trip to Rome, where my diet consisted only of bread, olive oil, cheese, and wine. Being insulin resistant, and obviously a glutton for punishment, I stepped off of the plane (side note: Jay-Z was also on this plane, HOV<>!) fatter and sicker than ever. My first goal was to lose weight...any amount of weight. My second goal was to not be morbidly obese. My third goal was to run for longer than 2 minutes without stopping.  On and on the goal setting process went.  Each time I met a goal, I shocked myself. I continued to lose weight (at a very slow but healthy pace).  I moved from the morbidly obese category into the less undesirable obese category, and then into the plain-Jane overweight category.

Tangent:  Imagine, if you will, me, not too long ago, in only my underthings, jumping around the bathroom joyously shouting, "I'M OBESE, I'M ONLY OBESE NOW, BABE!" <end tangent>. 

I was eventually able to run a 5K without stopping, and although it was most likely the slowest 5K ever ran in the entire history of running, I felt accomplished. I also felt bored. I traded in running shoes for dance shoes and started Zumba. While it wasn't exactly the down-and-dirty choreography I loved to bust out in my younger days, it wasn't Sweatin' to the Oldies either*.  Whatever it was, it kept me off the couch (I'm so sorry Detective Stabler).

Around this time, a good friend of mine (Paula) started to talk about this whack-ass-torture-chamber-of-a-gym she recently joined, where people did "CrossFit". It sounded awful to me.  I told her so. Each next time we met, she unveiled more details about this gym, and I responded by calling her things like "maniac" and "psycho".  I couldn't understand why anyone (especially a girl) would want to do endurance and strength training when they could get an adequate cardio workout shaking their groove thing to Shakira. Wouldn't Paula get huge?  Wouldn't she want to start oiling up, wearing triangle bikinis, and flexing her muscles to flashy music on ESPN?  Thankfully, the answer to all of these questions I had is "no". Paula is not huge, in fact, she is getting quite small.  I can almost fit her in my pocket (but she will still kick your ass). Fast Forward to two-ish months ago.

Note to the reader: As well as being a great friend, Paula is also one of my tattoo artists. 

During a particularly painful tattoo session, in an attempt to get Paula to talk for an extended period of time without needing a response from me (so that I could avoid whimpering), I asked her to explain CrossFit again in explicit detail.  As a lover of CrossFit and Guerrilla Fitness, Paula went on and on.  Being in a super hazy state of consciousness from the pain, I was brought to some new-age level of understanding for the first time in my life.  Don't get me wrong - nothing Paula said this time was drastically different from anything she had told me before. Everything still sounded absolutely terrible (to me).  Everything about the workouts still seemed too difficult, too stressful, and honestly - too impossible for someone who was in my physical condition. CrossFit sounded like the opposite of fun**.  That's when it clicked - this was exactly what I needed in my life - something that forced me to push through the bubble gum limits I would otherwise set for myself.

Where were we?  Oh yes, goals.  So here are several of my new short-term goals.  I'm going to share them with you so that you can keep me accountable.

1. Add a well-executed girly push-up to my workout repetoire (Nope, don't "have one" yet)***
2. Get faster on runs
3. Move from the rings to a band-assisted pull-up
4. Begin to incorporate "cleaner" food choices into my diet
5. Successfully complete a 30-day Paleo challenge after European vacation (we come home October 3rd)
6. Stop whining about the things I can't do yet

*No disrespect to Richard Simmons - he runs this motherf*cker, shut yo mouth!
**CrossFit actually is fun (most of the time)
***"Have one"or"Have a": CrossFit terminology for the ability to perform a specific movement.  Example:  Coach 1: "Hey Jill, do you have a pullup yet?"

Thanks to everyone who read the opening post and to those who left encouraging comments!  I hope you continue to enjoy my blabber because I'm really amped to keep this up.

A special thanks to Paula for being Paula :).

I don't know where I'm goin' - but I sure know where I've been...

Whitesnake fans?  Anyone? Anyone?

Opening:
So this is the awkward, typically over-verbose, and obligatory first post where I attempt to catch you up on the past 31 years so that you can get a sense of who I am, and why I thought it was necessary to chronicle the boring ins-and-outs of my daily struggles and accomplishments publicly (this is all under the assumption that I will have "a" reader).  Well lucky for you (yes, I will continue to address my imaginary reader) I'm gonna try to keep it short and sweet - like a cupcake.

The Past 31 Years in a Paragraph:
I've spent most of my life in northern New Jersey.  I'm the youngest of three.  My parents are nuts (in the funniest way possible). I have amazing friends, some of which I've known since Kindergarten. I was voted class flirt in grammar school and class clown in high school - this probably doesn't surprise you if you know me. I was always smart, but incredibly lazy.  I never wanted to do anything that I wasn't amazing at, so I stuck to reading, making people laugh, and on occasion, dancing. I had some rough times, as people often do.  I dabbled in this and that. I got fat and then - not so fat (the wrong way). I graduated high school and started college. I majored in sleeping.  I got super fat. I dropped out of college. I got a really cool job (Pleasurable Piercings). I got skinny (the wrong way). I left my really cool job for corporate america. I turned 21. I was diagnosed with PCOS. I dated a major asshole. I started college again. I got fat again. I dumped the loser. I started dating my now husband (<3sigh<3). We bought a house in Central Jersey, got a beautiful pup, and got married.  Central Jersey did not agree with me. I got depressed.  I became addicted to fast food and Law and Order: SVU*. I graduated college. I got tremendously fat. We sold our house and moved back to North Jersey. I used every ounce of "willpower" I could muster to get off of the couch and start eating better. I lost 60 pounds. We moved again.I got a new job. I joined CrossFit. <end diatribe/get awesome>

What is This Blog Even About, Jill?
It's been one-and-a-half years since I made the decision to get healthy, lose weight (for good), and kick the shit out of my PCOS. It's been two months since I joined CrossFit.  I had thought about starting this blog to coincide with my first CrossFit class, but being a relatively sedentary individual for most of my life, I needed to get past my fears, nervousness, weakness, embarrassment, etc., and really focus on determining whether or not I could truly commit.

I got through the first leg virtually unharmed (despite a few low blows to my ego).  I recently upped my membership to a 5 times a week schedule. I am having to push myself physically and mentally farther everytime I walk into class.  I'm having to resign myself to the fact that I'm not strong or fast, but understanding that, for the first time, it's not a reason to quit. I'm having to swallow my pride and modify or scale my movements, but I'm giving it 100% everytime the clock starts.

I feel like for the first time, I'm learning how to take control of life - really grab it by the balls, ya know?  CrossFit is teaching me about discipline, perseverance, and humility.  I watch the athletes who train along side of me, and instead of filling me with feelings of intimidation or inferiority, they fuel this new fire started deep inside that just wants me to kick a little ass. 

I wanted to start this blog to track my progress, and maybe give some insight to others who think they are too fat, lazy, weak, uncoordinated, sick, unhealthy, slow, FILL IN THE BLANK to get on the road to better health/overall well-being. This especially applies to those struggling with PCOS who are under the impression that there is no way to turn their situations around.  My progress stunned my endocrinoligist last year, and I'm hoping I can make her jaw drop a little further at my next appointment.Yes, unfortunately, in most cases, women suffering from PCOS have to work twice as hard as a normal human to maintain health, but in the end, it's worth it, no?

I've got a lot of work to but I'm all in suckas.  Wanna watch me do work, son?  Read my blog.

*For the record, Law and Order: SVU is super amazing.  In no way do I regret the hours of love and dedication I paid to that tittilating treasure of a crime drama.