Screw calm. Train like a beast.

I'm sore....but I like it. Let's rewind to what got me here.

Last month, while lying in the supine position and folding my 800^th something paper crane, I was suddenly overtaken by the desire to knock out some crunches…like a hundred of them. After all, I’d once done a thousand in a row – never mind that I was 19 and full of vim and vigor and dreams of joining the cast of Miss Saigon at that golden period of my life.  Nope. I wanted to do a hundred right then and there because I wanted to show Nate, who has a slightly irritating habit of working out while watching TV, that I was basically still 19.

After assuring him that I GOT THIS, I went balls out and did 100 UGLY crunches that I’m sure were NOT RIGHT, and I ended up with my whole stomach area contracting into a gigantic ball of pain and suffering. I rolled myself into the fetal position and demanded that no one look or talk to me, to which Nate replied, “I’m the only one here, who are you talking to?”  I decided it would be highly beneficial to get a trainer after this, someone who could help me navigate the pitfalls of my own brain, body, and oh-so misguided ego.

Well, I finished my 2^nd week of training at Redefining Strength in Costa Mesa, and I have to say it was the best decision I've ever made! It is an awesome community of people who are just so supportive of one another and do not judge.  I finally feel at home in a gym! My trainer Cori is fantastic, and in just two weeks I have noticed a remarkable difference in my physical AND mental state. 

The guy so far up my ass on the freeway that I could time his nostril flares to the beat of “Shake It Off”? Well, I simply let him pass and didn’t even follow him home this time.  In the past, I’d go all 007 and find an address to send a picture of an eyeball to, just let him know someone was watching. Not this time, friends. Just pass me by, sir! 

I'm not watching you...or am I?

So, I’m sore as all get out - but this is the best kind of pain there is. I hurt in places I never thought I should ever hurt. Just when I think I’ve pushed my body to the limit, I discover that I have more to give. Amazing. Instead of chest pain or the odd stirrings of what may or may not be an unfortunate bout of diarrhea after a large meal, I instead feel blessed exhaustion from a total body workout. I’m sleeping better and eating better these days. My muscles are crying out for relief, but they are also getting stronger. My number of push-ups is increasing, my crunches no longer cause me any cramping, and I feel strong.

Nate and I played in our first softball game last Friday night and I took a hard ass fall on the way to 2^nd base. I hit the ground at full speed landing chest and stomach first, but I still managed to crawl to base. A collective gasp could be heard across the field and stands. After remembering that there’s no crying in baseball (but still crying inside in secret), I gave a double thumbs-up and kept playing. 

The next few days were torture. Not only was I sore from my workouts, I was now convinced that I had ruptured something internally or was in the process of slowly dying from a pulmonary embolism. We had no ice packs in the house, but since Nate is a resourceful person, he covered me in frozen bags of Trader Joe's linguini and gnocchi until I started to smell. I love him. 

Even with the pain, I decided I was fit enough for a Sunday hike to Holy Jim Falls Trail with Nate and our good friend Mai. I’m proud to say that I completed my first hike EVER! Usually when "we hike", I hide in a bush just to make Nate feel terrible about himself for leaving me so far behind or quit a few minutes in after threatening to punch every tree branch in the face. Not this time! I continued on and before I knew it, we’d reached the waterfall. Success! 

Wat. We thought it would be bigger. 

So that’s the recap of my training over the last two weeks. Like Tony! Toni! Tone! says, “It Feels Good”. As the current state of my life is chaos and laundry is only a sad afterthought,  I threw on the last pair of clean jeans I had left. While walking to the office, they started sliding down my hips. Instead of focusing on the fact that I’m wearing an outfit unbecoming of my position again, I am focusing on the fact that the last time I wore these, I had a crease in my belly that lasted for 48 hours. Holy Jim Falls Trail, does that mean I’m losing inches?!? Holla!