Today marks the start of my sixth week of Crossfit. This is all still so new and strange to me. I never would have thought I would be doing what I am doing. Jeremy has been at it for about a year now and the response in his physique is nothing short of amazing. He is in better shape than he ever has been and I gotta admit he looks damn good. I think that really may have been a big drive for me. I want him to be proud to have me on his arm. I don't want to feel like people are looking at him and wondering what the hell he sees in me. So, when I learned there was a cross fit class at Fit and Fearless that was women only I discovered that all the excuses had run out. That was the last thing that was keeping me at home. I was very intimidated by the Krav Maga classes I took shortly after our second son was born. I wanted someplace that felt somewhat "safe" for me. I started back to my yoga with a vengeance last fall and wanted to do something that would help me strengthen my practice there also. So, I did a group workout one Sunday and later that week I was in Kara's class.
I am incredibly proud of myself at the moment. I go to class three days a week (Monday, Wednesday & Friday) and haven't missed a day for anything less than the stomach flu. I realized that if I miss days then the next time I show up it is just going to be that much more difficult. There is also a part of me that I don't remember paying any mind to in the past. I have noticed a little competitiveness developing. Trust me when I say it is simply a blimp on the radar of anyone else as I am not competitive in physical activities. I never have been in organized sports and it is unfamiliar territory.
I am not really expecting this competitiveness to develop much more but it is an all together interesting feeling. I never thought I would be able to say that I love doing cross fit. The workouts can me brutal and definitely painful. There are days that I want to bury myself in a shallow grave when I leave The Box (loving nickname of the gym we work out in). But, for the most part...it's GREAT! Don't tell Jeremy this, but now I understand why he would come home and give me blow by blow, or rather squat by squat descriptions of the workout. I still don't think I talk as much about it as he does. Seriously folks, he would spend as much time as it took to workout to tell me about it. I had spoken to him about him being a little obsessive. But here I am, posting a blog about this when I haven't posted anything since August of last year. I find it hard to believe so much time is already gone.
I have started to cultivate friends there, too. They are definitely a bonus and often give much needed encouragement when I am feeling thick or heavy while exercising. So, now, somehow, we decided it was a good idea to do the Zone Diet. Anyone who has seen Jeremy knows this isn't about losing weight for him. It is for me but also about just making ourselves healthier adults. We have these two amazing little boys that are looking to us to be there for as long as we possibly can. With so much history of heart disease on both sides of my family I would be remiss in my duties as a Mom to not make sure I am as healthy as I can make myself. So, I count blocks of food to eat. I keep hearing it will get easier. As it stands, I am spending far too much time working out what we will have for dinner than is comfortable to me. One week in to the Zone and I have been considering taking my food scale with me while I am out to make sure I am eating the proper quantities. That is taking it to an obsessive level, I think.
I will let you know how it goes. So far, so good. Jeremy took the scale away from me. Says he did it so I would stop stepping on it. I figured he was tired of the emotional repercussions of me stepping on that evil little machine of the devil! He admitted that was another reason. Oddly though, I have cared less about what the scale says lately. I know I am getting healthier. I know I am doing more for myself than I ever have. I know that my children deserve the best. That also means that no matter how I feel about myself they have to have the best mother I can give them. They will not pay for my poor self image. It doesn't seem like much of an option anymore. I have to be my best. I may not know what will come to me in the future but I am certainly planning on meeting it a better me!
Did I mention that the mascot for the program I started is called Pukey the Clown. How the hell did I get into this? It really goes against all reason for me to be in a sport that pushes you so hard that you will get a visit from Pukey and end up doubled over revisiting the food you may have recently ingested. Gotta love it, right?