L-bombs and F-bombs

Love

On Friday, it will be 10 official years since hubs and I dropped the first L-bombs on one another.

I’ll honestly never forget it.  We were laying in bed in my minuscule one bedroom apartment watching an episode of “Whose Line is it Anyway” on my 12″ tv/vcr combo that had come with me when I moved from college just a few months before.

Something on the tv made me laugh so hard I snorted.  And not cute dainty snort either.  We’re talking full nostril-hair-shaking-there-might-have-been-a-little-snot snort.

He looked over at me with this amazed look on his face and said, “Well fuck.”

Assuming something was wrong, or that I had inadvertently shot a snot rocket at him, I anxiously asked, “what happened?”

He replied, “yeah, I just realized that I love you.  Damn it.”

We had been playing the we’re-just-really-close-friends-who-sometimes-have-sex-but-have-no-interest-in-a-relationshp game for close to two months at that point, and I think we both had realized it was something a little more.

Kudos to him for having the balls to say it.  I sure as hell didn’t at first.

Fast forward to a little over 4 years later.  We were in Florida in my hometown for Christmas walking on a beach that I had played on as a kid.  Somehow the conversation turned to where I would want to get married, if we ever got around to it.  As it turned out, which he totally knew, if I had it my way I would get married in pretty much the exact spot we were in at the moment.

Imagine my surprise when he did the whole drop to one knee maneuver and asked me to marry him.

Need some help painting the beautiful picture?

Well, my response was “oh fuck?  Are you fucking kidding me?  Don’t you have bad knees?  What are you doing?  Fuck.  Seriously.  What the fuck?”

And you know how I know this man is perfect for me?  His response, “Well that certainly illustrates the diversity of the word.  So is that a yes?”

Fucking right it was.

** Bonus points for anyone who gets the movie reference.** 🙂

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It’s as romantic as two women punching eachother in the face

ronda-rousey-miesha-tate-ufc-168-poster

Which anniversary is the one where you’re supposed to give blood?

For hubs and I, it will be this one.  I mean, it won’t be MY blood.  Others will be sacrificing it in our honor.  We’ll be like, Roman emperors or something.  I’ll have to work on my accent.  And my toga.

But I digress.

I am officially the proud owner of two tickets to UFC 168 in VEGAS!   The fight is on December 28, which happens to be our wedding anniversary.  We have long wanted to go to Vegas for the New Year, and when the Weidman vs Silva and Rousey vs Tate fights were announced, it was the deciding factor.

How cool is my husband that, rather than buy me jewelry, I get sweat and combat.

I live a very charmed life.

Spoiler: I didn’t cry or shit myself

This image has nothing to do with this post, but that's irrelevant.  Don't you agree?
This image has nothing to do with this post, but that’s irrelevant. Don’t you agree?

 

One year ago today I did not shit my pants.  Oh yes my friends, it was a distinct possibility, as it was the first time I walked into Crossfit.  Today is my one year anniversary of starting the sport that is slowly changing my life.

My best girlfriend and I got the idea in our heads that we had to try this Crossfit thing, and had signed up in advance to drop in for a trial class.  When I confirmed with the coach I asked him to promise he wouldn’t make me cry or shit myself.

His response?  He made no promises.

I knew then he was a cool dude, and am so lucky that in the past year he, his wife, and the other coaches have become a close enough friends that they’re like family.

We arrived at the box about a half hour early to sign away our lives and limbs, and got a chance to observe the end of the class before the one we would join.  I don’t remember much, except that I was TERRIFIED.  The only truly vivid memory I have is of two men, who we now know as lickable-abs and the-monster were upside down doing push ups off their heads.  Their HEADS people.  Best girl and I about bolted right then.

I will forever be grateful that we didn’t.

In some ways a year seems like a really long time, but it others it’s a drop in the bucket.  This past year has been a series of tiny baby steps towards overall health and wellness, and while there have been a fair amount of setbacks, I have absolutely emerged far beyond where I started.

Day 1 I could not do a single push up.  Not even on my knees.  My scaling was the thickest band available to me AND on my knees.  Today I can string together a solid 10 on my toes no problem, and at last test, did 27 in a minute.

My back squat has progressed from broomstick to over 100 lbs.  I deadlift 150.  I snatch and clean and jerk, and know how to load and unload that barbell like a boss.  Before Crossfit I had never EVER even once touched the “man bar” and could not tell you a thing about weight training.

Crossfit has given me so much more than great callouses.  It’s strange to realize, but a year ago I was in a very different place as a person.  I had a job that I loved, but the stress of it was killing me.  I had literally gained 50 pounds in a year, and didn’t take a single moment to step back and think about my health or sanity because of the pressure to excel.

I had an amazing marriage that was not in an amazing place.  I was fat and unhappy, and it is darn near impossible to be the spouse someone as incredible as my husband deserved when I couldn’t even take time for myself.

Finding my strength under that barbell empowered me physically, which brought back my emotional and mental strength to live the life I wanted, rather than just chugging along with where I ended up.

In Crossfit I found strength.  I found health.  I found hope.

A year later I can’t even try to quantify how much I’ve gained, or lost, because of this sport I love.