Crossfit for Hope

Crossfit Simple participates in fundraisers for many worthwhile causes throughout the year.  I have not really participated in any of them so far, but Saturday,  June 9 at 10:00 am I am going to be doing their Fundraiser Crossfit for Hope.  I am a bit nervous about it but also excited.  This is definitely a cause I believe in as no one should have to suffer the loss of a child and sadly, too many do.

This will be the first Crossfit fundraiser where I am a participant. I really think the cause is a worthwhile one, and I hope you will help me reach my goal of $300 – the proceeds benefit St. Jude’s Research Hospital. Those of you who know me know that I really believe in supporting the fight against cancer – especially childhood cancer as I lost a good friend to cancer when I was young. I still miss him and it has been 20 years.

Your donation will help children survive cancer. Please help me make this endeavor successful by pledging – even if it is only $5. Each dollar will make a difference! Thank you so much for supporting me!

Click here if you wish to sponsor me and make a tax deductible donation to St. Jude’s Research Hopsital.

Crossfit Warping – Running is Fun

We’ve been working more on running both at Crossfit and on my own.  Since I told our trainer that I wanted to do the Spartan Sprint in 2013, he’s been giving me homework.  The first bit was to hike a creekbed, the second was to jog.  I am jogging around three times a week now, unless the Crossfit WoD is particularly heavy on running.  I ran 6 laps (ok ATTEMPTED to run 6 laps, it was more like 5 with some walking) on Monday so I didn’t run on Tuesday but did go for a lengthy walk.

Yesterday, prior to going to yoga I ran in my neighborhood.  After yoga, Will kidnapped me to help him deliver papers on campus.  We got this done pretty quickly as we divided the work up between the two of us.  For several of my legs of delivery I just ran them.  Because it seemed like fun.

I never thought just running somewhere would be fun.  It was though.

This is how Crossfit warps your mind.

It is not that I liked running, I liked that I could run.  I am by no means a distance runner and by the standards of people who run for long periods of time or for long distances, I am still in the land of the wussy.  But for me, compared to MY all time best running ever, well, that was yesterday.  I am going to be running again this weekend, and I am betting that the next time I run will be my all time best running ever.

Improvement is addicting.

Our trainer is confident that in two or three months I will be able to run a mile.  Never in my life – as in the history of my ENTIRE life – have I been able to run a mile.  They made us do that in school, and even when I was a kid I couldn’t run a mile.

When I do run a mile, I may throw a party.  Then the time after I run a mile, I will run a bit farther than a mile.

I doubt that I am ever going to be a runner.  I love Crossfit, and running is part of the challenges of Crossfit, so I want to be good at it, but it isn’t really my thing.  However, it will be a thing I can do.  Another tool in the toolbox, so to speak.  Because let’s face it, when the zombie apocalypse comes, running is going to be a useful ability.

Other things I can do since Crossfit:

Catch things that are thrown to me.

Toss things and have those things hit their target.

Walk up and down steps without pain.

Carry more groceries inside, including large bags of cat food and bird food without help.

Sleep better.

I am sure that this list could be longer, but I have to go to work now.  Hope everyone has a wonderful weekend!

Will Left Town

Will was out of town this past weekend, Thursday night through Monday.  He arrived home Monday night well after I had gone to bed, and I even stayed up until 10:00 that night (late for me).  I was pretty irritated with him prior to him leaving because we are doing a bunch of cleaning out and rearranging, so everything is a huge mess as we are getting things sorted out.  So, huge mess, plus he posts on Facebook that he is going to be out of town.

Gee, thanks, sweetie.

I know I am paranoid, but I would have really preferred that all of his Facebook “friends” were left out of the loop on his travel plans or his Leaving My Wife Alone All Weekend plans.  When I complained to him he said, “What?  You’d just shoot anyone who tried to break in here, anyway.”  Which is true, albeit untested.  I still haven’t decided if I am annoyed with him for telling everyone I was home alone or if I feel flattered that he trusts me to shoot people.  I am going with both, annoyed and flattered, which really is Life With Will.

Our ongoing joke is that for me, absence does not make the heart grow fonder.  A week or two is about my limit of not seeing Will before I start to disengage emotionally.  “Oh, yes, you are that guy that left all his stuff here.  Why on earth are you hugging me?”

I am more out of sight, out of mind.

While he was gone, the only dirty dishes were mine.  The only messes were mine.  When I cleaned something up, it stayed clean.  When I cleared off a space on the counter, instead of Will coming in with stuff to immediately be placed on the empty space (he does this all the time, I have no idea how he knows I’ve cleaned off counters, but he does) it stayed empty.

It was glorious.

For two days.

Then I got bored.

Without Will around, there was no one to annoy or be annoyed by.  No one to verbally spar with.  No one to do fun things with.

One of Will’s many fine traits is that he takes verbal abuse well and finds it funny.  And lest you think I am abusive, he dishes it out, too.  When we truly fight, we are pretty polite to each other and we use big, vocabulary words not curse-words.  One day we were out shopping for tile and carpet (this is like my hell, I hate shopping, I hate shopping for flooring even more than that, the only thing worse is shopping for plumbing supplies) and I was being really grumpy.  He was trying unsuccessfully to cheer me up but I was having none of it.  Finally, exasperated, he says, “Just tell me something positive.”

Being ever mature, I said, with what I am sure was a whine, “There is nothing positive right now.”

“Then lie to me,” he said.

“I love you,” I said.

“You bitch,” he said, with admiration.

Then we both were laughing hysterically because we are deranged in some way.  While this is more extreme in nature – he never calls me a bitch, and I rarely deny loving him – he and I can be pretty harsh to each other and find it hilarious.  I would have broken the spirit of a lesser man by now.  He would have institutionalized a lesser woman.

And while he was gone there was no one to mess with.  No one to sharpen knives on.  No fun.

Yesterday was the first day he was back and it was really a complicated day.  Too much to do, not enough time do it in, and then he drained the car battery because he didn’t turn the key all the way off – third time with this particular car that he has done this.  Then, it took 10 minutes to dig through the trunk full of crap (Will’s crap) to find the jumper cables.  I was thinking “If I was by myself, this wouldn’t be happening.”  Relaying this story to my trainer this morning, he just grinned and said, “You know you love it.”

Too true.  Sometimes I wonder about myself.

Telling Will all of this (I complain, but I tell him about those complaints because I tell him about everything) and he said, “Empty bed syndrome.”

Empty Bed Syndrome was a term Will coined when he was living with his previous girlfriend.  In the mornings, she would often have to get ready and leave for school before he had to leave for work (that sentence makes him sound like a pedophile – she was in college, he wasn’t that semester, they were the same age).  He would get the whole bed to himself.  He could stretch out, have all the pillows, full use of all of the blankets, basically, he could hog the bed.  However, the down side was that he was in the bed alone, and beds are often made more comfy by the people who are in them next to you.

I enjoyed all of the pleasure and the displeasure of Empty Bed Syndrome this weekend.  Glad he is home.

Chicken and Crockpot, Random Foods Added

I like to cook.  However, sometimes, I get tired of cooking.  I get tired of planning meals and thinking of ideas.

I thawed a huge bag of chicken breasts in order to marinate them, then bake them.  What I have done in the past is take a huge batch of them, cook them, put them in serving size baggies, and then just eat one of the baggies with whatever veggies are lying around when I get hungry.  Easy.

Well, I thawed the chicken, then did not marinate it.  This morning I realized that while the chicken was still good, this wouldn’t be the case for much longer.  I did not want to make a marinade.  I didn’t want to dice chicken or veggies.  Basically, I didn’t want cook.

Which is why I have a crockpot.

One of the staples of my pantry is canned diced tomatoes as well as Rotel (diced tomatoes with green chilies).  Rotel is magic.  It makes anything taste good as it gives a little kick.

When I cook in the crockpot, it is really a matter of just looking around at what I have, thinking, “This might be good, too” and throwing a bunch of it in the pot.  Today’s crockpot creation was pretty easy and quick – did it in five minutes while Will was putting his shoes on for Crossfit.

1 can diced tomatoes

1 can Rotel

2 poblano peppers chopped coarsely (large chunks)

1 onion, sliced in large chunks

Bag of chicken breasts (about 6)

salt and pepper

Italian seasoning (I would have picked and used some of the oregano growing outside, but again, was going for speed)

Then I rummaged in the freezer and found two bags of collard greens.  I dumped those into the pot, too.

 

It turned out very nice.  Sometimes my random crockpot creations are good and sometimes they are not.  Random can be fun or it can be something only Will would eat, and then only with lots and lots of Sriracha.  While he may put Sriracha on his when he gets home (he likes Sriracha), I was pretty pleased with how this turned out.  Very edible.

If I had more time I would have added garlic, as I put garlic in most things, but I do not feel like I was missing anything.  I would also have used the oregano growing fresh outside.  Now that everything has cooked down, I wish I had two additional bags of collard greens to add to the mix, as it is pretty chicken heavy.  However, when doing random crockpot food, you work with what you can throw in.  I am just happy the result ended up being tasty instead of a vehicle for Sriracha.

 

 

 

Working From Home Means I Talk to Myself

I work from home.  All of my writing is done at home – I am emailed projects, I email back completed projects.  This is a lovely way to work and I enjoy it thoroughly even though I sometimes feel like I am working a million jobs just to make what I would normally make if I worked a regular, office-type job.  However, I would prefer a million jobs cobbled together than the hell that is sitting in a cubicle.

I once worked as a technical writer at a software company, which was a good job until they “restructured” and put me in a room with 6 other people.  My boss interrupted me every 5 minutes with a question about the software, that as my boss she should have known the answer to.  Nothing causes frustration and then rage faster for me than being interrupted when I am writing.  This was a hellish set-up because with writing there is a flow.  Once you start writing and the words are pouring onto the screen quickly and easily, being interrupted cuts off that flow and causes you to have to start all over again.  Other than research, the longest part of writing is getting started and getting the flow going.  I can write very quickly if I am uninterrupted.  With interruptions it takes a much longer time to write, because I have to mentally regain my footing, the Where Was I of writing.

Working from home means that the only person who really interrupts me is Will and as he writes, too, he gets the frustration of interruptions.  He does try very hard to leave me alone when I am writing, albeit not entirely successfully.  I try very hard to make sure he is gone before I start and it seems to work well.

The downside to working from home is that I do not really have co-workers.  I never thought I would miss co-workers, as I suck at playing politics (I have the woeful tendency to answer questions truthfully, and when my opinion is asked, I give it) and so mostly annoy and get annoyed by co-workers, but apparently any interaction with people combats feeling isolated.  When I take lunch, it is alone.  When I take a break, it is alone.  When I do anything that would normally involve maybe speaking to someone throughout the day, it is pretty much just me, alone.

I end up talking to the cats.  This is something I have always done to one extent or another.  I talk to animals, birds, fish, trees, anything remotely alive.  I have told the spiders of the house that they are welcome to stay as long as they stay mostly out of sight – any trapeze artists who want to swing in front of my face (this happens to me more often than you would think normal) are going to either being squished or relocated, depending on the mood I am in at the time.  However, those are mostly short conversations.  “Aren’t you a pretty tree?”  “My what beautiful feathers you have, you pretty bird.”  “Seriously?  What were trying to do, build a web on my nose?”

With the cats, they meow at me, and I talk to them, then they trill and rub against my legs.  It seems to make both of us happy.

One of the things I have noticed lately, though, is that I also talk to myself.  I first noticed this at Crossfit as I would tell myself that I could do something.  “Ok.  Take a breath and then keep going.”  or  “Don’t get psyched out.  The box is not that high.” or “You can do this.”  Little things like that to help me get over that little naysayer in my head that seems to be quite the pessimist.

Walking out of Crossfit today, Will forgot his keys and had to go back inside.  I stood there waiting for second before I remembered that we drove separately as we both had to go work.  “I do not know why I am standing here waiting for him,” I said to myself.  Out loud.  The problem is at Crossfit there are Other People there who can hear me, so I either have to play it off like I was talking to them in an under my breath mutter, or just be That Woman Who Talks To Herself.  I am not sure which of these two people I would like to be categorized as.

Will also talks to himself, but he has done this forever so I am not really sure what his excuse is.   If I am going to talk to myself, at least I know I will be in good company.