(grip, grip)
(huff, whoosaah)
(pull, Valsalva maneuver, strain)
(repeat 2 more times)
(release slowly)
(fall and pant horrendously)

I just want to be able to do body-weight exercises without feeling like I'm about to die.


GOAL: MUSCLE UPS, 5 IN A ROW, BY DECEMBER. A S.M.A.R.T. goal.

La noche oscura del alma

Found this really nice, local coffee shop called The Foundry. It's partly volunteer-run (ran? manned?) and so far the flavors are rather good. Had a bite of a panini from a friend's and have had their frappuccinos; so far delighted. It's a lovely atmosphere with live music (good so far as well) and big, comfy couches (huge plus). Decided to drop in on this hot day and work on some psych (or not...as is evident with my blogging here...).

It's been hard internally, spiritually, not as physically though things will ramp up here this weekend. CrossFit Games Regionals for the South Central area (TX, LA, MS) will welcome a number of athletes and teams, to include mine, and we'll see if we can tough it out for one of the top 3 spots. I noticed a number of top teams were helped with certain individuals who are now only competing as individuals, and not as team members, so I don't know what to expect. We have strong males on our team, but only one of us females can manage a muscle up...that's been the deciding factor in much of the competition. I pray I can eventually do a muscle up soon.

I digress from earlier, saying that "things" have been hard. I've had dips into the low-lows, for various reasons. Summer is upon us and life really hasn't been hard for me at all; I think I've just been spoiled rotten. Perhaps life hasn't been hard enough for me to really be justified in feeling depressed. I need to get over it. I've had to cut communication toward people whom I find are similar to security blankets. That's probably not fair. I don't find much trust in many people at all. I know I should trust God more and have hope. Well, I hope I'm climbing over the hill with more grace. Ah, I should be praying for increased grace; not just expect it.

After the episode where I felt like I was in some psychological/spiritual hole, all of a sudden little things like taking a break with hanging out with university acquaintances and finding comedic moments pop up at me. Either I didn't see them before or they just became available "in time"...or that is divine intervention. Regardless, I thank God for what is and what has come, and what is to come. I only hope (pray) I have a better guard against my emotions in expressing them appropriately, not just carelessly. And I need to remember to offer those trifle sufferings up. St. Therese, gotta help me out here, please.

"Humble"

There's this roommate of mine that causes me to feel a bit awkward, shifting from place to place and then hovers precariously over my head (and no where else!). For instance, I'll be at my bed or at my desk, look up, and THERE SHE IS. Oh my gosh. Seriously. The spider needs to skedaddle. I think I'll call her Charlotte.

After my shower, "imma bout to have me some" chocolate hazelnut butter. Out of this 190 calorie packet, at least the "organic evaporated cane juice" is second on the ingredients list and not first. Yeah, I'm taking a mini-detour on my paleo journey here...

CrossFit and Catholicism

Beginning tomorrow, it will be t-minus 10 days until the commencement of South Central Region's competition qualifiers toward the 2011 CrossFit Games Finals.

Yet another turn on the Road. Quite an exciting one, too. This will be the first time in a long time that I've been in a competitive state that is bigger than the last. It's a great opportunity for me to work toward something other than school, nay, a degree toward an eventual medical career. It's been my dream since I first heard and researched CrossFit to compete in the Games. I don't want to disappoint the team. My coach says I should consider competing as an individual. We'll see. I'd rather focus on this than the activities at school. I'd love to make it a career in and of itself, to compliment the one I'm destined for right now.

CrossFit is pretty much a lifestyle for some folks. I may be included, but I don't want to readily categorize unfairly. I do want to give credit to where it is due, though. The gym ("box" as it's endearingly called in the "Xfit" world) probably makes a big difference. I like the atmosphere there, and it's apparent since I've been with them for over a year (going on two).

This lifestyle is very similar to my Catholic Faith. There are truths which are constantly sought; truths about nutrition, about how we are "made" to operate as healthy human beings, truths about how we should handle our lives, basically. In my Faith, there too are Truths of how we should live our lives, of how we should manage a healthy well being spiritual and physically, and Truths which are constantly being sought (and which are bestowed upon on in various ways, both ordinarily and extra-ordinarily). There is a sense of discipline in both areas, yet a discipline that although seems constrictive to the average eye, is liberating. That's the difficult thing for most people to grasp, unfortunately. CrossFit isn't elitist; neither is Catholicism. Both want the best for the welfare of the community; CrossFit is more physically inclined, and Catholicism is more spiritually inclined. To me, that is an awesome complement! I do thank God for clearly answering that prayer I first asked of Him before I started my first week of CrossFit classes at Body Armor CrossFit: that I should be protected from deeply negative influences and that people there will just accept me as I am. No place is perfect on this earth, in a gym or in a church, but it is definitely providential to find a place on earth in which one can be happy.

I still pray that I will continue to be led into places where, although of narrow paths, will all still guide me toward pleasing the Lord for His sake, ad Christo per Mariam.

That Eric Church is playing on Pandora (Love Your Love the Most, "Carolina").

1 Peter 3:15

Always be prepared
to make a defense
to anyone who calls you
to account for the hope that is in you.

Miss Marple, the Spinster Sleuth says...

"That's...quite perverse...It's not even music!" (The Secret of Chimneys)

I'm a bit afraid of the world.

I don't want any part in the lot of it because I know I can't. And if I attempt to, I fear that I will lose myself. Even if I try to "accept" or "tolerate", how can I if all I get back is "intolerance" or "unacceptance" in return? Because that's the truth, isn't it? Perhaps if "the world" saw this or had any idea that this goes through my head, I wonder if "the world" would even care. Perhaps I am just a statistic; a small probability that a person like me exists and that, based on this statistic, "the world" has little reason to even worry.

The evening is wonderful at the moment. I've opened the window and a warm breeze is coming through. After submitting to ennui, and finding that the internet in the dormitory is working so well, well enough for streaming videos, Masterpiece Theatre so kindly entertains me with an Agatha Christie-inspired movie about the detective, Hercule Poirot. I'm watching "Murder on the Orient Express". Now I want to ride on a luxurious train... Can it be done before I'm 30? Maybe not but that would be a nice trip eventually.

Physics homework needs to be done eventually as well. Before midnight.

I noticed I get along with people when situations involve feats of physical prowess, or something of the like. Conversations ensue. You know, general interests in others all around. Given a situation where psychology in speech or visual examination (i.e. staring at people or shifting one's gaze to or from others) is the key medium of communication, I generally stay silent. I'm thinking that if I met the same people in the first example (e.g. physical environment) during the second (e.g. academic setting), I don't think I'd get on with them in the same way. Just thought that was interesting.

After not having television (with cable) for months on end, I decided to check the tube while doing some laundry. The result: incessant flipping through channels with only a hint of interest in National Geographic (when NetGeo doesn't have something outrageously stupid stated as "probable truth"). Yup. There really is no point, and never has been, to watching TV these days. I think I like my blissful ignorance of what media provides.

Blowing dust from the surfaces

Well, here I am again.

It's been ages since I last set foot within these walls of the boundary-lacking blogosphere. Well, actually, less than a year- though it feels longer. Currently Summer 2011. I am sitting here with coffee, I have no classes to attend (but still doing the school thing throughout the conventionally known non-academic season for others, who are not me- we got three freebie days from Physics), and with a slight bit of ennui, decided to check up on the mental musings of my past. I can still see things as early as 2006...which is kind of neat because I do laugh at the stuff I've written, some lame and some pretty cheeky, and it doesn't actually bring about any sadness that may come with reminiscing. I think a little update would be nice. A little then-and-now, so to speak.

Still "CrossFitting". Since August 2009, I've made considerable improvements. After referencing this post and this post:

Shoulder press: TBD

Back squat: 275 lbs

Deadlift: +250 lbs

Clean: 165 lbs

2-mile: haven't checked but running still sucks.

Calluses torn: lost count

Weight: really haven't checked

Ok, so I'm not very good at keeping these records organized but they're researchable to some extent. Hey, it's summer, and while I'm still a student, I don't want to think right now.

On the academic side, I am a double major towards baccalaureate degrees in Athletic Training and Rehabilitative Science. Not exactly pre-med degrees or degree tracks but some say I should highly consider it. At this point in life, I'd like to finally be free of traditional schooling and head into the "Real World"; join the work force and whatnot. Make a difference, really. I'll consider those food chemistry, kinesiology, and orthopedic surgery endeavors later on. Still, it's such a irritating waiting game. People my age these days (I think) have gone on to bigger and better things; earned their graduate degrees, dabbing into the professional world, having families, living life... I sometimes think I'm too old for where I am and that I am missing out on the experiences I could gather now for the future. It's like I'm re-living my early 20's...granted I only turned 25 not too long ago, but I ain't getting any younger! I'm such a lost, little soul. Must refocus.

On the health side, the CrossFit deal has been helping, as is manifested in strength gains. As with physical appearance, I still agnoize over what flubber I have left over. It shouldn't be a matter of aesthetics...but it is! Ugh. Lord, please increase my level of humility; help me to overcome this wasteful vanity. Actually, I think everyday increases my humility levels...probably should be careful for what I pray for but what can't hurt me can only make me stronger right?

Alright. By now I'm only falling into pits of rubbish thinking. With all this effort on writing a blog I should be diverting it into the prolific works of finishing social psychology assignments. Yes. Onward to productivity.

Objective: More calm. Less spaz.

Don't do very well with taking care of my blogs, do I? Full of random stuff, little evidence of a theme... well, that is the theme of life so there.

I have taken interest in the subject of emotions and the challenge of controlling them. If I feel some pain, let the face relax. If I am an idiot, refrain from "doh". If I am depressed, remember how lucky I am to be alive and quit acting like a wuss. Simple 'nuff.

CFT 23 Dec 2009

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.

CF: The Board and other records

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.

What can go wrong will go wrong.

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.

Cleaning cobwebs

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.

Aliens

So very foreign in thought and belief. Even when amongst those most familiar to me, whether it be blood-relations or not, I cannot tell them what I'm thinking. There's not enough time in a day. And maybe it's not the right time now. Maybe I'll have to wait to tell anyone anything.


That's why I have this blog. Who cares if anyone reads it. I hope this is not public at all- pretty sure I selected that option... anyway. I think I have been pretty sheltered which is in some ways good and other, not so. The latter is usually believed by the masses and has thus caused the results to be frowned upon most of the time. However, I will vouch for the former.


The world is constantly new to me. I think I heard/read somewhere that one should look at life like a child- things, events, the world itself will just be a constant wonder. Then there is the spiritual take on it with "Blessed are the pure of heart..." I don't claim to be that pure; the world's mud certainly gets on you when you're in public, even if you try to dust it off (it just stays on so you ignore it until you can get to a washer). But really, the idea of shutting, or sheltering, myself from what most would be deemed as enjoyable, exciting, hilarious, makes me want to be more optimistic about life. Maybe I feel this way because I haven't delved deep enough into the mud to see how fun it is, but do I really want to go there? (disclaimer: I do not diss real mud- it is actually fun- in the warm rain).


One time I was invited to a gathering of sorts and jokes sprouted, naturally. I only understood maybe 50% of them, with the other 50% being comprehensible through 25% inference and 25% selective listening. At the end of the night, I was mentally exhausted- both from boredom and from discomfort. Discomfort because I didn't really fit in and didn't contribute to the "fun". Boredom, because I really didn't see anything worthwhile and didn't get anything out of it. So I left, having wasted my time.

You are what you eat.

I remember my last meal whenever I really push myself during a workout. That would seem like I regurgitate the last meal I did put down my throat, but it isn't the case. All I'm saying is that my stomach either feels like it's turning inside-out, it's going to explode, or I'm way too tired throughout the day. With that being said, I'm wanting to try some new recipes. Unfortunately, they take time which I usually devote to hours of studying, commuting, sleeping... Excuses aside, I will record my recipes for my own future purposes. (A couple of class assignments requried me to record everything I ate, precisely, and it's killing me. Just like the peak of a workout...when I just want to quit. That brings up another issue of mine. I feel like a wuss.)


The Most Delicious Salad That Fills Me After One Serving

3 oz grilled chicken breast (season of choice, minus salt. I like cumin a lot these days)
Heaps of Spinach. A full "normal-size" plate isn't even breaking 100 calories.
Light dressing of choice
Crushed almonds (about 5)


I was suprised how small a 3 oz chicken was. Little person, big appetite.

Ran about 6 miles the entire week. Chalk that up against the miles balance.

76 miles to go.
8 weeks left. (corrected week count)

The differential diagnosis for my decline in performance last week and into this week was delayed onset muscle soreness due to over-training. I did increase my workouts to everyday and stopped abruptly on Friday, pretty sore. So sore that controlling my descending steps on the staircase was making my quads cry. At least my hamstrings are okay. I worry about those more. My wrists now hurt. I can barely do a single underhand pull up when I used to knock out at least 5 good ones. Kipping (overhand) pull ups are coming along but only 5 at a time. Different muscles. The left trapezius is significantly smaller than my right, so strength is noticable during overhead presses and I can't get the bar over my head so my triceps can finish off. I made the board in the gym for squats but the girls saw my 190 and easily beat it. Hopefully, I can reclaim a spot. My goal is to improve every 5 lbs.

Back to the books.

CF + 100 mi.

3 Oct 09: 40 mins, ?secs ~ 41 mins.
5 RFT (rounds for time):
1 lap - 400 m
30 box jumps
30 wall-ball shots // 14lb for females
=========================

100-Miles: 1 mile
82 miles left.
9 weeks to go.

100mi. Tracking so far :: 28 Sept

100-miles tracking so far: (again, not very good at remembering to even run or figuring my distance)

Inbetween 19 Sept and anything prior to 27 Sept: 1 mile (no room for self-forgiveness here)
27 Sept: 1 mile (ran in an indoor track and felt too tired to do anything longer)

Came down with the sickness, but I didn't make too much of an effort to see if I was positive for H1N1...I wasn't feeling very terrible and over the weekend I kept to myself, stocking up on Vit C, hot soups, and sleep. Still coughing up some phlegm, but it's very, very sparse- you'd hardly notice with all the liquids I have been drinking. I even went to CrossFit feeling terrible, thinking that if I stay down longer, I'll only get worse. That's why we get our older post-op patients up and going the day after surgery because they're prone to pnuemonia with lengthy bedrest. (Not implying that I'm that old, but I'm not getting any younger either.)

So anyway,
83 miles to go
~10 more weeks left.
I'd need to average 8.3 miles/week to make my deadline. Roughly 2 miles a weekday. Eh.