CrossFit Total: 1 max rep each, then total all weights (lbs) for your score.
Shoulder/Overhead Press: 90
Back Squat: 200
Deadlift: 200
CFT: 490 (Advanced)
Whoo! If I can break 500, I think I have a shot at Elite, but I don't think I could deserve that if I can't even do a proper set of pull-ups, dips, and muscle-ups. Work in progress.
As of today,
Squats- 190 lbs
Overhead/Shoulder Press- 115 lbs
Clean- 115 lbs
2-mile run: 15:20 (7:40 mile)
Weight: 131 lbs
BF%: ~24%. Hm, that doesn't sound right. I used Athlete mode with the Tanita scale at the gym. This number would put me at about 31 lbs body fat, with only 100 lbs lean body mass. 18% BF for a female would find me at 118. To get there, I'd need to lose about 13 lbs, so roughly 10 lbs realistically. Can I do it in one month? It would take 2.5 lbs lost per week. According to the generally accepted 3500 calories per pound of body mass, I'd need to have a deficit of 8750 a week. Apparently, I need about 1500 calories to keep me alive, and I need to figure out how much more I need to function efficiently with HIT exercises. Still- whew. I certainly know starving won't do the trick so that is out of the question, but despite 3x week HIT workouts, I manage to maintain my 131. Ugh.
Calluses torn: at least 15.
Well, been going at it for 4 months now. It feels like forever, but at the same time, everytime I have to stop and catch my breath during a workout, it reminds me that I'm still a little green with high-intensity training. Looking forward to losing weight, efficient pull-ups, and finally muscle ups.
In other news, I do like how I lose my appetite after a workout. I don't like thinking about food during random hours in the day. I just like to enjoy it without feeling stuffed. However, that means that I will get voraciously (bored) hungry when I don't do anything. I feel it. It's like my body will just turn into goo as soon as I don't move. Yeck.
As much as I feel like I'm the most typical person that this law applies to, I'm sure everyone has an equal chance of having what can go wrong to indeed go wrong.
Two days ago I tore my hands during a workout, and the next time I showed up at the gym, the prescribed workout called for kettlebells and pullups. I, being the stupid idiot that I am, shut my trap about having already torn my calluses, and only allowed myself to tear them again.
This is not "man-ing up". This is plain idiocy. I needed to shave my calluses or do without chalk and work on grip strength- sweat only contributes an added challenge. Calluses can only go so far before they tear. And I hate the phrase "man up". People, stop saying that! Don't turn me into a radical feminist.
Why, when it seems like life is dandy with myself and those around me, do I meet the most uniquely stubborn individuals I have ever heard of, who almost would agree with everything I am saying, but only disagree because I am saying what is true in my own words? Why do I feel like I am arguing, defending myself, for no reason? I'm probably not even defending myself so much as I am not knowing how to walk away and not let my pride feel a thing.
Well, the last A has been completely earned now. It's all a matter of having the school hum and haw over what my instructors have deemed as acceptable hard work and deserving of a 4.0, give the registar a blessing to put on paper what are like a gold investment to me; I mean, grades are, really, especially when the grad school (full-ride scholarship with guaranteed job security- thank you U.S. Army Officer Corps) of my choice is pretty keen on it.
The holiday is going to fly by. Last Friday already seemed like ages ago. I am taking a break from cleaning out my closet, which as bare as it is compared to most girls, is also stuffed with things I have not really looked at. Do I really need my '86 Canon 32 mil? Oh yes. Keep that. My clothes take up only half of space, and with my recent scrutiny of how I can't wear that pair of jeans anymore, or those shirts have indubitably shrunk after being digested numerous times by the merciless dryer, it will only get smaller. Oh well- shopping! Wheee... I so do not love digging for deals. I don't understand how women can actually enjoy it. I must not be with the right crowds during the few times that I go- or with a crowd, for that matter.
Cleaning, yes, is a comfort. (Cleaning bathrooms in which others make messes, however, does not count).
I must admit that I like keeping myself busy. It keeps me away from the messes of my mind, which inadvertently translates into me holding on to things of the past, some of which may be better left in the past and not exhumed sometime in the present. I am not quite sure why I am big on reminiscing. It doesn't always appear to be healthy. More so when you reminisce on your own. In fact, it's even worse.
I suppose the cleaning of my room symbolizes my trying to move on with stuff. Throwing out the old things and considering the new feels peaceful. I really wish that mentally it'd be that easy.
I really need to do something- get out, relax. Gosh, this is driving me nuts. Four walls is all it takes. I really don't want to start hating my house- and what is worse is that no one else is keeping me here.
