There’s a bag in this picture?

Yesterday Christmas Abbott, one of the most badass Crossfit chicks around, posted this pic on her Facebook page of her new Fitmark Bag.

Christmas Abbott

Now, I’m a straight girl but I’ve gotta tell ya, I didn’t even notice the bag.  I’ve got a serious lady boner for this woman, and I LOVE  that she is confident enough in her body to post a pic that has no airbrushing, no “corrections”, and nothing more than an Instagram filter on it.

Not only does she have arguably the greatest butt I’ve ever seen, her confidence that goes along with it makes me a huge fan.

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Who doesn’t love coupons?!

First off, HELLOOOOO new followers.  I’m kind of amazed people are still finding me even though my posting has been sporadic at best here lately.  I would apologize, but honestly, I’m not sorry about my life of leisure.  Ya’ll get it.

But, to put a smile on everyone’s face, I’m sending along a GREAT deal that I saw on Facebook this morning.  One of my favorite new companies (and bloggers) From Thick to Thin, is offering a 40% off coupon code on her entire line.

This is some seriously cute ladies Crossfit and running tanks, headbands and even a pair of amazing capris.  I love the fit of her stuff, and highly recommend it for the quality, fun sayings, and great colors.

I get nothing out of this, except to share a great deal with all my loyal readers, so check it out!

Shop here and use code crazysale40 at check out to get the discount.

You’re welcome.

Apparently, I am the opposite of anal retentive

Retirement at 30 is awesome.  I get to do pretty much anything I want on a given day, which sometimes includes helping hubs out at his screamingly successful business.  I get to do the fun stuff, which lately has meant helping with recruiting new employees.

The calls go something like, “Hi there.   Your resume looks pretty fancy and wouldn’t you like to make enough money that your wife doesn’t have to work anymore?  Yes?  Well then you should come in for an interview.”

I’m great at it.  Well, sorta.

It also means I’m on hand for any other odds and ends things he needs done, which he loves and I enjoy because I end up feeling useful at least once a week. I guess that’s my minimum.

Today there was an HR explosion that resulted in hubs being alone in the office without an admin, and having an appointment that he needed to get to.  Lucky him, I was here, and jumped at the chance to help out.

So now it’s just after 4 p.m. and I’m on my own answering phones until 5.

Which of course means that right now, at this very moment, I have to poop.

Figures.

The world according to my grandma

If I live to be 88 I hope that I still have my wits and snark about me, just like my dear grandma.  She’s known in my family for her hilarious stories, candid remarks, and her way of putting things.

I got the pleasure of hanging with her on Monday night and doing dinner just the two of us, so of course, I have new grandma stories to tell.

Apparently, she’s only ever gambled once in her life.  When she was a young woman several of the ladies she worked with went to a horse track.  They talked her into placing a bet.  Not knowing anything about horse racing, or betting for that matter, she made her decision as to who to place her incredibly valuable $30 on by one simple factor.

She eyed up the horses and chose the one that looked like the “biggest maniac craziod”  because she found it to be the most relatable to her, and put her money there across the board.

She walked away that night with $2500.

You learn something new every day.  Apparently crazy really does run in my family.

Directory of lady bits doctors: Who to choose who to choose?

Finding the right woman to dive between your legs and tell you that you’re good to go in the nether bit region for another year is really quite the process.

See, since I’ve retired we changed our insurance from my employer provided to a new one.  While the insurance is great, it doesn’t have any of my usual doctors in the plan.  So the lovely woman who has been checking under my hood for the past few years will now cost me four times as much, and really, I would rather spend that money on shoes.

So I’m shopping around.

When I first started researching other providers in my area, I thought it would be really easy.  I figured I would just pick another lady and we would be good to go.  Unfortunately, I’m apparently way more neurotic than I realized.

Turns out, the doctor HAS to be a woman.  Every time I was doing research on a website on a male doctor I either decided he was too attractive or too unattractive and either way it would skeeve me out.  No offense to any dude OBGYN’s out there, but I apparently just can’t handle that.

Then I found myself looking at credentials.  My crazy parts informed me am only interested in someone who graduated from college between the years of 1970 and 1990.  Any younger and I felt like they wouldn’t know what the heck they were doing.  Um, really Nicole?  1990 was almost 25 years ago.  I would think someone who graduated in 2000 with 15 years of experience would be just fine.  But no.  Not in my brain.

Once I had it narrowed down (mind you, there were only 20 female providers in a 20 mile radius to choose from to begin with) I started looking at photos.  I then learned that anyone with a unibrow, facial piercings, or too much make up in their photos went in the “no” pile as well.

What the hell?  I guess I’m more judgmental than even I realized.

Then again, this is the person who is going to be examining my most prized possession and telling me that I’m perfect for another 12 months.

Oh, and filling my birth control.  Because really, we can’t have any more totally nutso judgmental people like me in the world.

When can’t becomes your crutch…

Do you ever get it in your head that you just can’t do something?

Come on, you’re human, just admit it.  Lord knows I do.  I’ve been better about it lately, and since starting Crossfit over a year and a half ago I am much more willing to at least try something that scares me.

But I’m stubborn as shit, and every once in awhile something ends up in the “can’t” basket.

Up until a few days ago, double unders were in that basket.

I would love to tell you that I practiced them religiously and just simply couldn’t get them no matter how hard I tried, but that wouldn’t be true.  Sure, I had practiced them.  For a few minutes at a time a few times a week, usually whipping myself in the shins or the ass and totaling maybe 50 jumps before getting frustrated and quitting.

When they showed up in any WOD I just did the penalty (at our gym it’s burpees) and never even tried them.

I had actually convinced myself that I didn’t care if I ever got a dub.  Didn’t matter.  Jumping rope is just as effective of a workout if you swing it once or twice and I’m not competitive or anything so it won’t matter if I never get them.

That was, until 14.1 was announced on Thursday night.  As most of you know, we are in the midst of the Crossfit Open.  The Open is a 5 week competition where anyone in the world can register to see how they stack up against Crossfitters everywhere, and against themselves.  The workouts are announced via a live broadcast on Thursday nights, at which point two of the big dogs go head to head and show us how it’s done.

Like every other Crossfit addict worldwide, I was glued to my laptop on Thursday beyond excited to know what the first workout would be.  Because the Open is truly meant for everybody, I was confident it would be doable movements and something I could totally excel at.

Imagine my dismay when they announced a 10 minute AMRAP (as many rounds/reps as possible) of 30 double unders and 15 snatches (75/55).

Um what?  The FIRST movement that you had to do in order to get ANY reps whatsoever were DOUBLE UNDERS?  And I had yet to ever successfully do even one.

I wish I could say that I put on my happy face and decided to give the workout all I had, but I can’t.  The truth is I went to bed that night telling hubs “well this sucks.  I guess I’m taking a 0 for the first workout because I don’t even see the point in trying.”

I woke up the next morning, the day I was to do the WOD, and just didn’t want to go.  I got to the box early and practiced for a solid 15 minutes.  I managed about 3 reps in that time, and truthfully, they were almost accidental. But I was going to try to do the workout Rx.  I wanted a score.  Even 3 reps was better than 0.

The clock counted down 3…2…1… and a funny thing happened.  Suddenly, getting double unders became important.  Not being able to do them just wasn’t acceptable anymore.  I had to figure it out.  And I had 10 minutes to do it.

I’m not going to say it was fantastic.  In fact, it was a tough and frustrating 10 minutes.  But by the end of it, I had managed 27 reps.  Mind you, I never even made it to the barbell or finished a complete round, but whatever.  It wasn’t a 0.  And for ME, it was a PR.

But what’s more, by the end of just 10 minutes of consistent practice with a clear goal in mind, I was actually stringing a few of them together.  I knew that if I had ANOTHER 10 minutes, I could do a lot more.

I’ve never repeated and Open workout before, but after taking the weekend to think about it, I decided I just couldn’t let that score of 27 stand.  Not because I cared about my standings, but because I KNEW I could do better.  That simply wasn’t my best effort, which isn’t ever ok by me.

Monday is the last day to submit scores for the week, so I went in early for class.  I warmed up alone and set up my barbell.  This time, I knew I would need it.

I grabbed a judge and asked them to count and time me, and set out with one goal in mind.  Get thru one round.  45 reps in 10 minutes.  I knew if I made it through the dubs I was home free.

What a different experience the second time around.  I was stringing together doubles in sets of 3-4, and at around the 5 minute mark I was done with 30!  I flew through the over head movement, and got back on the rope as fast as I can.  With just under 4 minutes left, I knew I could make it through one more round of jumps.

AND I DID.

Not only did I, but I managed a few more overheads before time ran out.

Final score, 78!!!

I won’t lie, I almost started crying.

See, it doesn’t matter to me that the top competitors in our region and the world managed 450+ reps.  It matters that I did something I had NEVER done before.  I let go of the “can’t” and found the will to figure it out.

That my friends, is what is beautiful about the Open.  So many of us do Crossfit to push ourselves out of our comfort zones, and then still end up sitting there anyway.  Sure, the zone has become bigger than what it maybe was before, but it’s still there unless we continually challenge ourselves.

I won’t rest.  I will grow.  I won’t fall victim to “can’t.”

Thanks Crossfit.

A man who knows what he wants…

Here in Florida it’s really common to have live entertainment at dinner.  One of my favorite places is right on the water, so you can watch a great sunset while jamming out to some Jimmy Buffet tunes and scarfing down coconut shrimp.

Sounds like Heaven, right?

Hubs and I were at dinner the other night and I couldn’t help but notice a sweet little family a few tables over.  There was a little boy who couldn’t have been more than 3 or 4 who listened politely to the musician during each song, and at the end clapped his hands in appreciation.  The mom was awesome at encouraging his great behavior, and as a causal observer it was cool to see her teach her son to appreciate music and be polite.

That is, until the guy on the guitar changed up the tunes a bit.

He played a stirring rendition of a country favorite around these parts, “Tequila Makes Her Clothes Fall Off.”

Unlike before, after this number the little man literally couldn’t contain his excitement.  He jumped up in his high chair, and gave a standing, hooting, hollering ovation.

His mother was literally stunned speechless.

I about fell out of my chair laughing.  She’s in big trouble if he is already a man who knows that tequila is the way to any woman’s heart.

Share the love people

It might surprise you to learn that I’m not really a schmoopy Valentine’s Day person.

Ok that’s a lie.  If you read this blog that probably doesn’t surprise you at all.  Kind of like the fact I’m not wearing pants while writing this post probably isn’t really news to you either.  But I digress…

One thing I DO believe in, however, is supporting charitable organizations.  Much of my career was spent working for nationally recognized not for profit organizations, and I know just how much good they can do.

Now that I’m retired, I still enjoy fundraising for great causes.  To that end, in just 44 days I’m riding a freaking METRIC CENTURY in the Southwest Florida Tour de Cure.

For real people.  I would post a picture of my ass chaffage from all the training rides to prove it, but I don’t want to traumatize any small children or animals.

So other than the chaffage, here’s the rub.  I have a $1500 fundraising goal and I need HELP.  Badly.

If you fellow bloggers would like to give me a push towards the finish line, you can make a secure and tax deductible donation to this great cause here.

Thanks in advance, and stay tuned for some great stories from the road!

What happened to the workouts?!

*Waves*

Hey loyal readers!

And because there are a butt load of you, HEY NEW READERS!  Welcome aboard!

As you’ve probably seen, I’m a Crossfit addict who also does tri-sports (swim, bike and run), as well as blogs about the hilarious and disgusting pretty regularly.

I know we’re still at the start of the year, so we’re all still focused on our resolutions, which probably mean fitness and weight loss goals.  Right?  Right.  Focused.  Yep.  That’s me.

I swear I’m still working out daily, and doing some pretty awesomesauce things in all areas of my training, but you may have noticed I’m no longer posting daily workout recaps or updates.

There’s a few reasons for this, but the main one is that people are douchebags.  Right after the first of the year, I was getting comments from new readers about how slow my times were, how light my weights were, or how boring my posts were.  Obviously, this isn’t really motivating.  But it also let me take a step back and look at the content of my blog.

I want to make you laugh, and provide great stories about things health, fitness, and alcohol related.  (Because they SO go together, right?)  I don’t ever want to be boring, so to that end, I’m keeping track of my fitness elsewhere for the moment.

That’s not to say you won’t get recaps of really great workouts.  Once the Crossfit Open starts I probably won’t be able to contain myself.

I’m going to do my best to bring fun fresh content to you regularly, and if there’s ever anything you want to hear or know or read more about, just ask!  Your feedback, likes, and comments are what keep me posting and loving this blog.

Just don’t be a douchebag.  This is a douche free zone.

“Thick and sexy” is something you should really only ever say about a milkshake

I could not make this stuff up if I tried.

We have a few regular spots where we hang out on Friday nights, and with my usual group of people they always involve places the guys can play pool.

A few weeks back, we were early on in our drinking and bar hopping merriment, and decided to stop at a place that isn’t on the regular list, but has some pretty great tables.  I’m flexible, and as long as they have Whiskey, I’m easy to please.

Within five minutes of walking in the door, we realize we’re not exactly in the classy part of town.  But as I was there with hubs and another dude, I figured not much could go wrong.  We ordered drinks, got a table, and the guys started their smack talking for the night.

A few minutes later, a girl who was obviously on something other than what the bartender was pouring stumbled over to our table asking to bum a cigarette.  At least I think that’s what she asked.  She may have also been asking for a shampoo or a chimpanzee, but either way, I don’t smoke and had none of the above on me.

For some reason, I was trying to be nice to this stranger who just wouldn’t LEAVE ME ALONE.  Hubs came to the rescue a moment later at which point she says:

“Girl, you so THICK and SEXY I’m gonna steal you from your man.”

Uh, what?

My initial response was, “I’m never eating again.”

But after conferring with friends who are a little better with the slang than I, I discovered it was a compliment.

So really, my response should have been:

“Thanks.  I squat.”

After which I think it would have been totally socially acceptable to chase her off with the chalked up end of a pool cue.

Ah people.  Always good for a laugh.