Wednesday, April 23, 2014

Crossfit for now...


Back Squats 5×3 up to 235
13 min AMRAP
7 Pullups
7 Wall balls
17 Double Unders (50 singles)

It was hard to do this workout because Phil was doing his last workout for the Open Regional and I would much rather watch and cheer him on.  Phil is one of the people who, when I first started Crossfit at Undisputed, kept me going.  I told Beth on Monday...Phil would actually lay on the floor while I did burpees...barely moving, barely breathing and tell me to keep moving because I was worth it.  I'll never forget that and I will always be grateful.  Kinda great for me, even though he goes at the crack of dawn, that Phil is now at Zia.

And shit....Phil is amazing....determined...motivated...... motivating.....and freaking lots of ways...strong....


Deadlift 5×3  up to 265
8 rounds for time
3 front squats @ 70% of 1RM Clean  (115)
Sprint to the end of the building and back...I knee is feeling funny.

Funny...squatting actually makes the knee feel counter intuitive about the squatting thing, but there it is.


Bench Press 5×3
Every minute for 10 minutes
Even minutes: 10 Overhead Squats with PVC (bar if you want)/hold bottom OHS position remainder of minute
Odd minutes: 5 Pushups/hold plank position

yuck...but I'll will go, if for no other reason than to amuse BJ by arguing with Sheila about who is stronger (she is).

I have not been writing much...stress is stressing me out and I love that I am still managing to hit the gym, but  it is no magic pill for stress relief.  My heart shit is happening way too often...but I am getting some help with getting things done that annoy the crap out of me....(like having to set up, meet, and probably pay for all the workmen I have to get to the house that I don't even live in any more.)  I am so unfocused it pisses me off...and even thinking about all the crap I will be left to take care of in the next few weeks just sorta shuts me down.  Grant keeps reminding me that no matter how bad it is that there will be people to help me clear out that house.  (if everything goes through)

I am just struggling with trusting myself to be able to rise to this challenge instead of falling apart...because frankly, I don't really wanna fall apart anymore....

Monday, April 14, 2014

lessons from the range

Finally went shooting this weekend.

Calibers in Albuquerque.

I had been looking forward to this for a while.  I don't like the fear that I have been feeling about the idea of the ex having a bunch of weapons after what happened. I was also told by plenty of people, mostly women, that it is a great stress reliever and made them feel powerful.  I know it is not a cure-all, but I was willing to give it a try.

Walking into the place, we had to wait for a lane so I spent some time looking at what they had for sale, blah blah blah. Signed all the paperwork, put on the ear protection...yadda yadda yadda.

Honestly, I was almost immediately overwhelmed.

The impact in my chest from the sound was a terrible feeling.  I was almost immediately sent back to that night 6 months ago.  The deep heavy pops made me feel like I was cowering in the corner.  The tinny sound of the spent rounds reminded me of the ridiculous attempt to wrestle a gun away from a drunk 350 pound angry man.

I was jumpy...shaking...

then it was my turn.  ( I have no idea what the actual gun was that I used...)

Grant loaded the clip for me...showed me how to hold it...and backed away.

I don't know how long I stood there...trying to put my hand on this weapon....I know most of you will think me ridiculous.  But I was shaking.  I finally got my hand under was lighter than I imagined.  Wrapped my left hand around my right and tried to raise the thing to shoot.  I did pull the trigger.  The darkness of the sound now came from my hand.  The round clanked to my feet.  I held the gun still....pulled 'til the clip was empty.  Not sure where I shot because I was crying as I shot.

Not for me, not all about fear, but I understod later on the drive home, that I was angry.

Every single person on that range knows the power of that weapon...the ex understands that weapon.  It is not something he ever intended on turning on me that night. Actually, he never intended on turning it on himself that night either as he had threatened. Or any of the other times he threatened to get his gun and shoot himself~because this was NOT the first time he had done that.  He was not really threatening himself... as I have always said, he never took the gun from the case. Instead he used this as a way to control me, to terrify me with the possibility of what he could do with it.  The worst thing he did that night was threaten to walk out to meet the cops with gun in hand so THEY would kill him...and he didn't mean that either.

He played games with this?  I understood why I was nervous about all these people with guns at the recent experience has taught me if I a misplaced word, look, or tone of voice he could bring this out as an option.

I was mad, I felt stupid, I felt used, I felt weak.

Then it was my turn again. I felt terrible for Grant...I could see by the look on his face that he thought this was a huge mistake.

But, I picked it up again....emptied the clip.  He kept his hand on my back as I took the first few shots. Upset; yes, no tears that time.

 I didn't tell Grant, but as we left Calibers...I went in the bathroom and puked.


How's that for the image of me as a strong bad ass momma thrower actor whatever?

Will I do it again?  I think I have to.  I do not want to be at the range though, it was too overwhelming, too noisy, there were too many rules.  I need to load the gun myself, I need to hear the instructions that Grant gave me. I need to learn this thing...I need, no I want, to be like those other people I saw shooting that day.  Calm, confident, clear in the knowlegde that this is NOT a game or a way to control people.   

And yeah~I'm a shitty shot.

Wednesday, April 9, 2014

bloggy Blogs...

So..yes I am feeling better today.  Grounded...

got lots of love last night.



So~I thought I would post some of the blogs I follow on my little blogger feed....this is not comprehensive by any means, there are some I look at that I have not linked to my page, but this is the sort of stuff I read.


Love this man....Met him at Zia and he works his way through eating issues, family stuff, and weight lifting.


Highland Sister....been throwing and laughing and crying with her since I started..In fact, she lent me a kilt for my very first competition.


Another Highland sister...(you will begin to see a pattern here)  I think I met Cat at my 3rd competition and I love her "spiffy."


Yup...Highlands sister...met her last year....snarky, feisty, fierce, damn good thrower, and lots of laughs.

There are about 4 more personal blogs I follow but they haven't posted in like a year!

My new favorite non personal blog is  rebellesociety.

Love, Pain, Poetry, stuff...

There is also Fat Crossfitter, prettystrongblog, fitandfeminist katwhitfield 

Got any favs?

Oh ... Snatches and clean & jerk.

5 pounds off my PR in the snatch  & matched the PR on the C &J...but that is driving me nuts...but more on that another day. 

Tuesday, April 8, 2014


I should listen to Grace and not post a blog after therapy....but here I am and I suppose it is my hope to feel better after I write this.

You know it's a bad day when the first thing you say to your therapist is, "I'm sorry....I am not feeling good today.  I know I usually do, I'm sorry."

Is it even worth it.... The work I'm trying to do with her? 

The fear races back. Sneaks up on me nearly six months later. Winds it's way into my sleep.  

I sit here post therapy a list of tools in my hands, but I am frozen. 

The years flood, the violence flows, been told many times it wasn't that bad.  I guess I know that.  All my bones were still intact, no broken skin, only a damaged hip, which I was told was my fault because I simply "got in the way". So why some days do I feel so broken.

Smiling, letting everyone know I am fine...I'm healed, I'm happy.  And I am happy most of the time...but the grief takes over....less than grief is simply fear.

And anger that yet again, it isn't enough...or the right kind of pain...or as bad as yours or someone else's.... The feeling of "not enough" swamps me today post therapy and I ask again, is it worth it?

Trying to use the tools, the counting, the breathing, the resource spot, the image of tossing a caber.....

And all I have to show for it tonight is shaking hands and a strong desire to run. All I hear in an echoey skull is how all the choices I made led to that moment, to this moment, to this continued fear that I am still waiting for his permission to even be allowed to feel. 

All on my shoulders....all on me...and this is breaking my shoulders and my spirit.

To be thrown back here post therapy makes it feel like nothing is working....


My scrambled words on this screen tonight are at least more than I could express 6 or 3 months ago.  And somewhere in my aching, confused, frightened mind I know, as a dear friend reminded me this weekend, that my story is mine.  

Friday, April 4, 2014


Matched a "I used to be strong" PR on the front squat today.


I am pooped.

and yeah...I freaking wet my pants. 


At this rate perhaps I will make a new pr on something.

Did the rest of the workout too...





Max Pullups, one set (with a band)
5 Rounds for time:
5 Ring Dips
10 Pushups
Handstand Walk down (right...Or hold a hand stand for 30 seconds....I could not even get on the wall...but I did 5 attempts each round. I hate losing a skill)

I tried to write down a dream I had recently...but I can't really write....but I wanted to post it anyway.

There is a horse....she is really a beautiful horse....large draft style horse.  She was left alone without a herd....but she loves a lake.  Green, verdant, comforting.

One day she finds another.  He is not a draft horse, he is much smaller...maybe a mustang.  She's never had met a horse like this before, so she is willing to do anything to make him happy.  At first it seems like he wants the same...then one day her mate asks why she needs so much water. She doesn't think much of it, but she wants her mate to be happy, so she cuts back on her trips to the lake and runs the dry plains.   She is a little unsettled about withdrawing from water...she tries to make herself the size of a mustang so maybe she can learn to live without.  He says it isn't really necessary after all and he is her mate....

She finds herself very thirsty, but takes the suggestion that she is being greedy or maybe even selfish for wanting so much water.

After years and years she has trained herself to no longer feel the pull of her thirst.  After all, she wants to be happy and many say water is just a minor thing, it isn't really essential to their lives in the herd.

Years away from the lake, from the cooling water, the fresh grasses, take its toll.  The mare feels anxious, sad, needy even.  The water, the lake is right in front of her, but the stallion nips at her....reminds her she can do without if she only wants to, if she only loved him enough she would be willing to sacrifice the lake.

After years, the mare finds herself alone at the lake, wanting to drink....sometimes even placing her muzzle in the water and crying into the lake.  Something, perhaps the wind, whispers to her that it is not selfish to drink, that she needs the water to be be herself. She always shakes off the voice of the wind and accepts the word of the mustang  as truth.  After years of tears, another horse shows up on the other side of the lake, silently placing its muzzle in the water. The mare cannot tell if the other horse is drinking or not, or if they too, are afraid to drink...if they too are forbidden to drink.

After years of watching the horse across the lake, after years of silence, they eventually move closer to one another.  Not speaking, just standing by the water, occasionally placing their muzzles in the water...never drinking.

On a quiet day, the horse across the lake looks at the mare and says, why don't you drink?

"I don't need to," the mare snorts.

"Neither do I, at least that's what I've been told."

"I used to drink water from the lake....I miss it so."

They look at one another and without a word, decide to try the water.

As you can imagine, all hell breaks loose.....this lake water? Dangerous, frivolous, selfish, selfish, selfish....

But these two draft horses? Did I mention the horse across the lake was also a draft horse?  After they taste this water, this lake....something awakens. The horse across the lake realizes before the mare does that the lake doesn't just taste good, but he needs it.  The lake water heals.  He tries to explain this to the mare....

She knows he is right, but she has been away from the lake for so long she cannot hear his reasoning...she cannot hear the truth.  Being at the lake isn't selfish....she is dying without the lake.

 Water.....they need it to, they need it to be alive.

She is so afraid, she flees the lake.....runs back to the the confines of what the mustang demands. The mare thrashes from dehydration.  The small bits of water make her head hurt.  She knows.....she knows what she needs, but the familiar voice of the mustang holds her.

"It's's just the lake, it's just water...that isn't really an important part of your are are are....wrong."

Something about being told she was wrong stung....the wind screamed at her this time....she ran back to the lake.




She thought she would feel...satisfied, but she felt selfish and greedy....even so, a small part of her knew there was more than she understood, more than she had been told.

The horse across the lake saw the mare struggling and even though he was unsure said to her, "it's alright, you feel strong again; I do, don't you?"

The mare struggled to drink without choking.  Water is essential, but, but.....she doesn't know how to feel any more.

Perhaps the mare came too late to the lake....perhaps the mare will die, she will die from not coming to the lake soon enough, or die from drinking too fast once she is here, or die from simply knowing that she listened to the lies instead of herself, or die from not even knowing how to drink anymore.

Or maybe she will grow into the draft horse she was always meant to be, along side the horse across the lake.

Wednesday, April 2, 2014

getting back out into the world and a couple of lifts.

It has been about 3 months since I moved into Faith's place.  Have I written before how grateful I am and how much I love the place?  I hope I have.  One of the things I have noticed is that the longer I am there, the more I am starting to venture back out into the world.  Back into the old places that I used to go.  For many months I was cocooned into my sisters cozy little place, then I branched out into another place...and it made me feel stronger and a little safer. Therapy probably has something to do with this as well. 

Going to theater has been the hardest thing for me to do. Used to be something that the ex and I did together, well the last few years I went by myself more and more, but still...I knew what would happen if I showed up at a happens every where I go, the big smile and then the, "How's Pierre? what's he working on?"   I knew I could not face that and the first show I saw...3 people asked...and yea, I felt like a fish out of water.  It was not my thing anymore....people always preferred his company...blah blah blah...

So I tried again...and it happened again...but I wasn't alone this time....I have found a temporary "Theater Buddy," we are sorta in the same until he moves on...I have a buddy.  wheeee! I miss seeing shows...seeing my community. The looks are hard sometimes, the perceived judgements are harder. But life moves one and I cannot lose this part of my life.

SO yesterday...

One rep for a push press....155!

I put 165 which would have been an actual PR on the bar, but I just could not pop it.  I have to admit...I was sorta happy.  Told BJ that perhaps I am not as broken as I believed. Well, I actually told BJ it was his fault that he was the one who kept telling me I was weak.  Thankfully BJ takes my crap in stride.

Then today...

dead lift.

355....It caught a little just past my knee, but I got it and well...It didn't feel super heavy.  It is close to my PR of 380 so I loaded the bar to 385.  First try?  nope, Will told me I was too far forward...not in my heals enough.  Second attempt? Got it off the floor but not past my knee.

so 355....but close on 385.

I'll take it.

maybe I am not as weak and broken as I keep telling myself....