What If?

Nothing cures a good case of Writer’s Block like a trip to prison!

I should probably clarify that statement. My 17 year old son was sentenced to a year and two months to Juvenile Detention (JRA) in February for Burglary and Possession charges. He currently resides at Maple Lane JRA run by DSHS in Chehalis, WA. I drive down on the first Sunday of each month to visit him. The round trip takes about 6 and a half hours and it is exhausting. I’ve had people tell me that a visit is too good for him and if he treated his family better and followed the rules; he wouldn’t be in that situation. And I agree completely. If he didn’t start rebelling…if he chose the love of his family over the love of his friends…I can compile a whole list of “If’s.” I can justify not spending an entire day driving, just to get patted and wanded down and searched, then escorted to the visiting room filled with metal stools where we get exactly 120 minutes to reconnect with each other. But let me ask all those people who so freely give their advice to me and offer their opinions.

What if Joe Joe recovers from this life of rebellion? What if 120 minutes a month is enough to keep him engaged in his Drug and Alcohol treatment program? What if my visit on the first Sunday of the month helps him to practice his skills and be cooperative to staff so his visitation does not get revoked? Joe Joe has been in trouble with the law for years and has blown up literally every bridge in his life. I am the only person left in his life that will visit him. I refuse to give up on him and I refuse to give up hope.

As always, I have to relate this to my own battle with addiction. What if people gave up on me? I have probably quit the same amount of diets as my son has been arrested; somewhere around 17 each.

What if Cameron said “I’m sorry Lacie, you’ve been given too many chances and I don’t believe you will ever change.”

Or

“Lacie…you quit the last time you tried to write a blog and were fired from the Lake Stevens Journal and TeamFitness.”

But he didn’t say that to me, what he said was “You’ve never tried CrossFit”

Cameron believes in my ability to change, he continues to have hope, he encourages me, yells at me and sometimes wants to throw things at me…similar to me with my son. My son thanked me today for not giving up on him and talking to him clean and sober was a blessing to a mom right before Mother’s Day. I would like to do the same for Cameron.

Thank you Cameron for believing in my ability to change even when I screw up…that being said… I couldn’t write on Friday because I fell off the wagon and binged big time. We will discuss that at a later date. I am a bit nervous about my big weigh-in tomorrow.  

Change is a process…

Writers Block!

I know my blog post was due yesterday but this is probably the first time I have ever had writers block. I have been staring at this blank document for over two hours. I want to write about my last month of Crossfit…or my week or something, but I just don’t have a relevant story to tell.

I am panicking about my weigh in on Monday. I am trying to get a hold of my last measurements to do some kind of comparison…something to show progress. To be honest, I just don’t feel like writing. I will write again soon. I know I have followers that expect the articles on Tuesdays and Fridays, I guess I just need a pass on this one.  

Don’t give up on me. I am driving to Chehalis tomorrow to visit my 17 year old son in jail, I’m sure I’ll have a story to tell about that.

My CrossFit Kicks your Zumba's Ass!

 

Zumba or CrossFit? You Decide!

Week 4! Wow…Can you believe it? It flew by and I can say I am officially addicted!  I only have 2 more On Ramp classes until I start CrossFit classes with the masses. I talked to Charlie and he is going to be doing the psycho 6:00am classes and Janel and I are going to do the 4:30pm class. I must take a minute and tell you all what an amazing ROCKSTAR Janel is. This woman not only wears the cutest shorts every class, but has the most infectious smile. When she smiles, everyone around her is a little happier. I am thrilled we are going to continue this journey together. On Thursday, she had a 102 degree temperature and still kicked ass in class. She smiled less on Thursday, but she was back stronger than ever last night. I have decided that back extensions are in fact my least favorite CrossFit activity, mostly because they make me want to vomit. Janel and I were able to commiserate yesterday during the warm-up and maybe it’s my dark side, but it made me feel tons better that the back extensions made her want to vomit as also.

 This weekend I was invited to a get together at my girlfriends’ house. She is an amazing hostess and a triathelete. I knew the food would be healthy and delicious as she’s also the Home Economics teacher at Mariner High school.  I am used to being the biggest woman in the room and this party was no different. What was different was my attitude. I didn’t care and I didn’t obsess about my weight all night. I knew I looked hot and I was thrilled I had to wear the belt I just bought. I walked in and the party was divided by gender. The men were in the man-cave (garage) and the women were in the kitchen. The conversation, as usual was on diet and weight loss. Two of the women were talking about Zumba and asked me if I had ever danced my ass off. Heck yes I have! I’m not sure there is a woman alive that hasn’t been drug to one of those sweatin’ to the music, shake your groove thing classes. Zumba is a lot of fun, don’t get me wrong…but the conversation droned on and on and on…until I had to interrupt and say I’m doing Crossfit. The looks on their faces were priceless.

Super skinny blonde chick said “Isn’t that like bootcamp? Uhhh…No Thank you! I don’t want to look like one of those gross body builder women!”

I might have become a tad defensive about my beloved CrossFit because my response surprised even me.

 “Yeah…um…My Crossfit kicks your Zumba’s ass!”  I said trying to keep the conversation light, but the battle lines had been drawn. I then went on to explain that in three short weeks I have lost inches, developed calf and thigh muscles, and can do push-ups and assisted pull-ups with ease. One of the peacekeeper ladies in the room said she needed to do something like that to get rid of her little poochy belly. I told her that Crossfit would burn that off in no time and we started having an amazing conversation.

The focus was not on Super Skinny Blonde Chick for a moment and she was having none of that. She said that she was looking in the mirror at her Zumba class and she swore she looked pregnant. We women knew exactly what she was doing and I couldn’t resist…Lord forgive me… I pointed to her fleece jacket and asked if she was wearing that at the time because fleece always makes people look bigger.

She then announced with out prompting that the one ounce of liquor I was having in my ONE margarita would stall my fat burning by 60%.

I looked at her blankly …and she continued.

“Jillian Michaels said that in her book I just read.”

 Me, being a stickler for numbers and statistics asked “How long is your fat burning affected for? Is it only while you’re sipping a margarita on the treadmill or does the liquor have lingering affects?”

 She responded with “Jillian said one ounce can affect you for up to three days! Have you read her book?”

Another blank look from me and I turned around and walked away…I had to escape to the man-cave. I know it was rude…but a girl can only take so much. We avoided each other for the rest of the party and I had a really good time after that.

I will say this. CROSSFIT IS AMAZING! I have a severe case of ADHD and get bored easily. Typically, week three is my give up point on any diet or fitness routine. I seriously can’t imagine a week in my future that doesn’t involve CrossFit.

Oh yeah…I almost forgot! I am using the 20 lb bar and doing Squats and Snatches and Cleans! That was my three month goal that I met in three weeks. The bar is still heavy as hell, but I am doing it. CrossFit is not only changing my outside, but my inside also. My self esteem and pride is increasing as my waistline is decreasing

It's Simple Math!

I love math. Maybe it’s my engineer mind or the fact that a person can use a proven formula to get the correct answer…math is logical. Weight loss, even though it’s all about numbers, absolutely boggles my mind. How can something based on numbers have so many different formulas and so many different outcomes?

I have been forbidden from weighing myself until May 3, 2010. We all know what happened last time I weighed with out permission, so of course I would never directly defy an order. That being said, I went to see my nutritionist today and of course had to step on the scale. I didn’t look but when the medical assistant called out my weight I nearly fell over.  Are you sitting down? 230 pounds! I have gained 8 pounds in a week.

This is exactly why Cameron did not want me weighing myself for a month. I burst into tears, just like Cameron said I would. I wigged out when the doctor came in. He asked how I was doing today and I responded with “What the Hell…8 pounds?”  I went from anger to frustration to sadness in about 30 seconds. I explained what I was doing, what I was eating and I showed him that I had to fold the waist band of my jeans over because they were falling down. I tugged at the loose fabric around my thighs and the unsightly butt fabric that was gathering on my rear. I thought for sure I had lost weight…I would have bet money on it.

Doc L. was just nodding while I finished freaking out then he handed me a tissue to indicate I should calm down. I sat back down on the paper sheet and just looked at him, waiting for a medical explanation to this very obvious slap in the face by my metabolism. I wanted a logical answer. I wanted the numbers to add up. I did not want to hear that muscle weighs more than fat. That illogical answer has always irritated me. That’s like saying a pound of lead weighs more than a pound of feathers. IT’S STILL A POUND!

 After going into more detail about the type of workout I was doing, he said it made perfect sense. I was building muscle. Muscle is more dense than fat, therefore, my body is getting smaller. The weight is going up because I am working the largest muscles in my body the most, causing those to become bigger.

He asked for my food journal and asked me about my water intake. I admit, I have only been drinking maybe 20 oz of water a day. That was slowing down my ability to flush the “something” from my muscles after I work out and that water is critical in burning fat. He told me as long as I continue to dehydrate myself; my body will continue to retain every ounce I consume. He also noticed my sodium intake was way too high.

So…new formula this week and I am hoping it leads to subtraction. I am going to drown myself in water…or at least drink the 5 water bottles a day I was supposed to be drinking in the first place. I also have to divide the two slices of toast at breakfast in half, add a protein drink after I work out and multiply my servings of fruit by two.

I am getting tired of doing the math, showing my work and still getting the wrong answer. This week I will follow the instruction the teacher provides!

The Kettlebell

HA HA HA…oh Cameron is just a funny, funny guy! I missed Wednesday’s workout due to an unfortunate Broccoli incident, and Cameron thought it was hilarious! He laughed and laughed…and made “Gas” jokes during the entire workout. My buddy Charlie even got in on the fun! It’s unreal how much fun we have during the most intense workouts of my life! I really am starting to bond with my classmates and I seriously think I may be starting a new addiction. I can’t wait for my next Crossfit fix!

That being said, I was introduced to Kettlebells last night. I am convinced Kettlebells may kill me. I have two pronounced bruises on my forearms where I just could not grasp the concept of the corkscrew type movement Cameron was trying to show us. I repeatedly slammed the iron weight into my arms and kept saying “ouch!”

Cameron kept saying you’re doing it wrong! Really? Thanks for clearing that up, because I thought I was supposed to slam heavy weights into my arms. Here’s the part that troubles me. I’m not sure if it is age or weight or what, but back in the Glory Days when I was a cheerleader, I could learn new choreography in a matter of minutes. Not anymore. Trying to lift something over my head and squat at the same time was just baffling my stressed mind and body. Cameron actually told me I was thinking too much…he said he could see my gears turning. I actually saw little veins popping out of his forehead…I could tell he was getting irritated. He yelled “Stop!” during one of my more uncoordinated movements so I tried to correct it. That sent him over the edge.

 “Your going to hurt yourself…just put it down” he said.

So I bent over and set the evil kettlebell down.

 “Not like that…you’ll hurt your back”.

 I started to laugh. “WHAT???” I screamed back.

He must have shown me the movement 17 times before I finally got it correct. My mother claims I am the only person that could piss off the Pope. Now Cameron is far from Pope status…but she might have a point!

We didn’t get far with the kettlebell last night, but I definitely got a workout on my arms. Driving home was a chore and I wasn’t sure if my shaky arms would keep the car in my lane. I woke up this morning with two painful reminders that I am just not as young as I used to be. On the plus side, I showed the class the little lines in my biceps where the muscle is trying to fight it’s way through the fat to the surface. After just two weeks, I see the faint trace of muscle. If that isn’t enough proof that this works, I don’t know what is!