These Are My People

One Word from American River CrossFit on Vimeo.

Cute video from my friends over at American River CrossFit.  I've pushed my physical limits with just about every person in this video and never once has anyone made me feel like I was anything other than an awesome athlete.  I probably should have chosen a word like "Supportive" or "Uplifting" but instead my pre-workout anticipatory jitters got the best of me.  

See what words Garrett and I chose at 5:18 and 6:56. 

Honestly, I love this place.
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July PRs, Rickshaws and Audrey Hepburn

At my CrossFit gym we track our PRs monthly. Although I am a super anal list maker (you’re shocked, I know) and OF COURSE track all of my workouts, progress and my actual Personal Records -- I like to make up superficial PRs for myself too. It’s more fun that way. In June, for example, my PR was Wearing a Tank Top While Being Anywhere Other Than My House. You all know how I feel about this, this was a LEGIT PR. Maybe next month’s PR will be wearing shorts. Yes, that’s right; I’m totally anti-shorts at the gym. Not on YOU, of course, on me. So August, maybe? To be determined. But what I really want to tell you about July’s Superficial PR, because when it finally all came together I was ready to do my best impersonation of this. 

Let's start at the beginning.  We generally we do all of our running outside at the gym. There are predetermined routes and the 400m, 800m, and 1600m routes all involve running on a busy street in town for a short period of time. It doesn’t bother me at all to run out in the middle of traffic for a short distance (there is a sidewalk and you are always running with others) but as you can imagine, running down a busy street during rush hour frequently involves some kind of cat-calling. Do you wonder if anyone has ever successfully made a love connection by hooting and hollering at someone on the street? Because these are the things I wonder about when I’m running and some underage gentleman sitting shotgun in a shiny purple low-riding Oldsmobile hollers that I have a nice ass. Thank you, kind sir! BUT WHAT WERE YOU TRYING TO ACCOMPLISH WITH THAT COMMENT?

The other thing I wonder about:  rickshaws. 

Yep, those kind of rickshaws.

You see, during a run the other night as my entire group ambled down the street we passed a homeless man riding on a rickshaw – which frankly, is notable enough in itself. End of story. I mean, if someone told me I had to procure a rickshaw immediately as a part of some game show like challenge that all of a sudden just happened to fall in my lap, I would be stumped.  I really would have no idea where to start. So I got to wondering: where does a person with more limited resources find a rickshaw? Was it just strewn about? Did he save up for it? Did someone put their old rickshaw out on the curb in hopes that it would make its way to a good home?  I mean, it’s kind of brilliant when you think about it. It's a parasol on wheels!

Anyway, I digress.

So obviously I was thinking this gentleman was fairly brilliant, you know right up until he smacked his lips together and told me that I had very nice thighs, and might I perchance, take a moment to wrap them around him? In slightly different words, of course. I mean, I guess there’s no harm in asking, but since my boyfriend was running right next to me, the odds were unfortunately not in his favor. Awkward. I declined (OBVIOUSLY) and ran on my merry way thinking about rickshaws and resourcefulness and what my life would be like if a game show like challenge automatically appeared, but mostly I put the incident out of my mind until I was at Target the other day.

I was looking for a pair of black capris and if you can believe it (I CAN'T!) there were nary a pair in the entire Target clothing section! Not even in the juniors section where they sell things in impossible sizes like 3s or 11s! (So weird.) But lo and behold I found a pair of very darling, Audrey-Hepburn-esque slim-fitting, ankle-length pants.  I'm trying to think of one more hyphenated adjective to throw in there for emphasis but  I'm at a loss.  Some combination of crazy and desperation made me feel like trying them on, and surprisingly they were mostly adorable.  But they were also snugger in the thigh than I am generally comfortable with. Remember I do not have tiny thighs, I am chip off the old block as it were, and the old block was a defensive lineman in the NFL.  No gap between the thighs for me!  Now imagine those thighs in skinny Audrey Hepburn pants and you will realize the conundrum I was in standing alone in the Target dressing room. 

WHAT SHOULD I DO???  I mean, the hand-wringing, you know?

And then – like a voice from the heavens, I heard my little rickshaw friend validate how delightful looking my thighs truly are.  And if he could love them, I COULD LOVE THEM!  And with a self-help hug to my pride, I told those Super hot Audrey Hepburn pants to GET IN MY CART IMMEDIATELY! And those Super hot Audrey Hepburn pants now live in my closet thanks to a homeless man riding in a rickshaw.

And if we can agree on nothing else, I think we can all agree this is my Superficial July PR, no?
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The Path vs. The Prize

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There are two things speaking to me from the internet this morning, and I find when the internet sends you a couple of coincidentally thematic things in a row, it is best to listen. Except, of course, when that message is "Buy expensive things you can't afford."  Then I try to tune it out, but oh how that is hard!  When the messages are more introspective, however, and less consumer based -- I certainly try to pay attention.

There are no coincidences, you know. Only glitches in The Matrix.

Do we need a gratuitous Keanu shot on this Wednesday morning?  Yes, yes I think we do. 

So the first thing I read this morning was this post on Zen and CrossFit over at The Five Tribe.  Honest to god, do you know how many times I have set and arbitrary goal for myself at the gym that has no basis is fact or experience and then have been DISAPPOINTED that I didn't achieve it?  Many more than I would like to admit actually, and the insanity of that is not lost on me.  Not that this does not makes the disappointment go away, but since I am at least aware of it, I feel like I am not totally hopeless.  

I don't know where it comes from:   this desire to set goals and push relentlessly until I achieve them.  It is so god damn hardwired into my brain.  I know that sounds a little obnoxious on first glance -- oh, woe is me, I love to set goals and achieve them...my life is so hard!  Also my diamond shoes are too tight and my money clip is just waaaaaaaay too small!  Sigh.  The thing is, it's not the goal setting that is so awful, it is the narrow-focused drive that it sometimes awakens inside of me that pushes for achievement just for achievement's sake.  The drive to cross something off of a list, to check a box, to identify with a number, to have an experience under my belt.  This is a productive flaw to have, I realize -- better than the fierce and narrow-focused drive to stay in my bed -- but it is also one that needs to be kept in check not only in the gym, but in life in order to maintain balance and sanity.  Good things, both of those.  Things that elude me on occasion.   

I'm still working hard on trying to just Be.  To show up and try hard.  To realize that when I am out running, even if I am bringing up the rear, I am still lapping everyone who is at home sitting on the couch.  This alone should be a victory for my demented and focused (and sometimes competitive) brain, AND YET.  I find it hard to have purpose when I don't have a goal, or a drive to achieve.  I fear that if I let that go, there will be nothing left to see or do.  While I will never be a person who doesn't set goals any more than I will ever be a person who doesn't breathe daily  I know that I can try my best to control those achievement impulses and redirect that energy to enjoying the journey. The journey itself can be enjoyable!  

Let's all chant it together!  

Ok, or not.

Then a few clicks later I read this little gem of a story posted by Melissa over at The Clothes Make the Girl: 

There is a story of a young, but earnest Zen student who approached his teacher, and asked the Master:

“If I work very hard and diligently, how long will it take for me to find Zen? The Master thought about this, then replied, “Ten years…”

The student then said, “But what if I work very, very hard and really apply myself to learn fast — How long then?”  Replied the Master, “Well, twenty years.”

“But, if I really, really work at it, how long then?” asked the student.  “Thirty years,” replied the Master.

“But, I do not understand,” said the disappointed student. “At each time that I say I will work harder, you say it will take me longer. Why do you say that?”

Replied the Master, “When you have one eye on the goal, you only have one eye on the path.”

And then all of a sudden, the light bulb went off.

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Smooth Is The New Skinny?

I basically hate Rob Thomas of Matchbox 20 and, poor thing, it isn’t even his fault.  I actually blame it all on Santana and that god awful song "Smooth" that was officially 1999’s Most Overplayed Hit. If you just had to click on that link to remind yourself of the song I am talking about, know that I am envious of your ignorance. 

Fun Fact:  I just fell down a Rob Thomas rabbit hole and found out that he originally wanted George Michael to collaborate with Santana on that song (Thomas originally wrote it for someone else)  and man if I don't feel like I just dodged a bullet since I probably would have grown to hate George Michael too!  Then instead of throwing away all of my Matchbox 20 albums what if I had thrown out all my Wham! Records?  OHMYGAWD, a world without Wham! is not a world I want to live in.

(Collective sigh of relief for a minute.  Wham! Rap FOREVER. )

So all the Rob Thomas talk is because I heard "Smooth" this afternoon and not only did I NOT feel even one iota of rage, but I listened to it all the way through!  I KNOW.  Are you dead from shock?  Don't Die! Come back to me!  Please?  Because I am about to tie this into weight loss and cross-dressing, and that is fucking impressive I think.  Besides, what else are you going to do right now?  Fall down a Rob Thomas rabbit hole?  I Do Not Recommend. 

So I didn’t turn the station because it reminded me of a text message I once got from my cousin Kelly when her in laws came to visit.  They were driving up from LA one weekend and upon their arrival Kelly sent me a text that said:  OMG, my father in law just rolled into my driveway in a shiny new mini-van blaring Rob Thomas and Santana’s “Smooth.”  And this struck me as so hilarious in that moment.  I mean, right now, I want you imagine your in-laws rolling up in your driveway in a brand new shiny minvan bumping Rob Thomas and Santana? Or bumping anything for that matter IN A MINIVAN?  I dare you not to laugh.  And when that song came on today I had a little perspective shift.  Instead of having PTSD flashbacks to 1999 as per usual, I thought of Kelly’s awesome Father-in-Law and his (obvs) awesome mini-van and enjoyed the entire song. 

Perspective shifts are magical!  Like Unicorns!

And speaking of laughing hysterically and perspective shifts, two people called me skinny at work today.  This has happened with an increasing frequency over the last few weeks and I drop dead of shock Every. Single. Time.  Mostly because the truth is, whether I have lost weight or not, I could still give the majority of NFL Linemen a run for their money if we were standing on scales next to each other.  I definitely do not associate the word skinny with myself.  I am not even close to my goal weight, and at 5’10 and NOT of tiny bone structure, I'm not afraid to tell you that my goal weight is somewhere around 175lbs. I KNOW!  That probably makes some of YOU want to drop dead of shock.  But here’s the thing, at 175lbs I will look strong and hot as hell, so don't die!  Get out your smelling salts one more time and come back to me, would ya?  Pretty please? 

(Boy all of this dropping dead is getting a little exhausting, but I have to admit a part of me just died inside just telling you about my goal weight in like, actual numbers.  But we're all friends here, right internet?  So why shouldn't I let you in on that goal!  175lbs it is!) 

So this other thing that I wanted to let you in on?  Was how I made Garrett try on women’s clothing the other night.  I know *kinky* right?  Speaking of dropping dead, Garrett just dropped dead of embarrasment because I told THE INTERNET that he wears women’s clothes.  All of his fears that his girlfriend is a blogger without boundaries have come true. MWAHAHAHAHA. 

Seriously though, it was only jeans, and I made him do it out of sheer curiosity that I promise to explain.  He is a good sport, that Garrett, that’s why I keep him around (see also: The Cuteness.) He goes along with these flights of fancy that I have and doesn’t even really look at me funny anymore when I write about it on the internet.  Can you believe I never even put that on my wish list of Character Traits In My Dream Man?  Single ladies, this trait is underrated.  Add this to your lists immediately.  It is worth its weight in entertainment value alone. 

So I made him try on women’s jeans not because I am crazy/kinky/cool, but because we were hanging out with my family the other night and everyone kept telling him how skinny he was and how he is going to waste away to nothing and OMG DO YOU EAT?  THE HORROR.  Yes, he has lost some weight.  Actually over 10% of his body fat since we started CrossFit and went Paleo, and now at 5’11 he weighs in at just about 175 lbs.   And, whoa whoa, wait a second -- that number sounds familiar doesn’t it? 

That is THE number. Only, you know he's a boy.  So of course I made him try on a bunch of different jeans to figure out what size he would be in women’s clothing.  And guess what?  HE FITS INTO A SIZE 12.  I mean what a freakin' waif.  You better watch yourself, Kate Moss. 

No one can get over how svelte he looks, but you know if he was a woman, he would technically be a Plus Sized Model and most brands of “Investment Jeans” wouldn’t even sell his size, FATTY FATTY FAT PANTS.

  

And those Size 12 jeans he was trying on?  Are the jeans that I *hope* to fit into when I get to my goal weight.  My own personal skinny jeans.  But the truth is, I don’t even know how I feel about that word skinny anymore anyway?   Do I really want to be *skinny*?  I don't know.  I’ll tell you what I do know though:  I am working hard.  I am a work in progress and that is okay.  I am doing my best to become a healthier person so hopefully someday we can have kids and I can tell them about how their dad used to dress up in womens’ clothes.   Well okay, maybe not that exactly. 

I know I’m doing my best to learn about how my body works and what is healthy for me.  And I’m also working hard to make sure that throughout this process I continue to look in the mirror and like what I see.  Not just physically, but emotionally.  And most of the time that last part involves some serious shifts in perspective.  It's a process, you all, but I'll tell you what -- if I can shift my perspective enough to listen to an entire Rob Thomas song after 10 years of wanting to stick my finger in my eye every time I hear it, then frankly I can probably shift my entire perspective on almost anything.
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Running For Recovery

During my second running-heavy workout over at American River CrossFit I think I may have shook my head and mumbled something about these people trying to kill me under my breath. It was 4 or 5 rounds of lifting heavy things broken up with 800 meter (1/2 mile) runs in between, and it was a pretty accurate recipe for torture, I was sure. I was also sure I probably couldn’t do it because I was NOT a runner.


Somewhere amidst all of that negative self-talk I heard our coach Chad say “You don’t have to sprint the 800 meters, do it at any speed you like:  the run is for recovery.” And in that moment I was fairly certain he was one egg short of a dozen because -- honest to god -- who the hell RUNS FOR RECOVERY, BUDDY?!?!


Today is a Monday, and as such I’ve jumped the typical hurdles -- the most notably suck-tastic was the sleepy pull of Daylight Savings when my alarm went off at 4:30am. But despite the temptation I fought the sandman, enjoyed a cup of coffee (what? I needed some heavy artillery for that fight), did a few chores around the house, and then put my running clothes on and headed into work early for another throwdown with the treadmill.


The treadmill is not my favorite way to run. In fact the hamster wheel style frustration of moving your body over and over and never getting anywhere can really be an additional mental struggle for me -- and frankly, I’m already busy enough in that department. When I hopped on this morning, I was, unsurprisingly -- Not Feeling It. I usually try to get into the music, tell myself stories, plan menus (Fat Kid, holla!), remember movie quotes – whatever I can do to get through, you know?


Today, I practically composed this blog post in my mind.


I thought a lot about how 7 months ago I never would have signed up to even run this half-marathon.  And in the middle of that I realized that this first mile was feeling awesome. Then I thought about all the excuses I used to make for why I hated running.  My former self would not even recognize this person who was booking-it by choice, without another person chasing them.  And in the middle of that, I realized that I hadn't even had that feeling of working at high intensity yet. So I turned up the pace up a notch and kept pushing. And because I was still cruising, I did it again. I kept pushing and pushing until it felt super tough, but even then I didn't want to quit, I just made a few adjustments and kept going.


And 3 miles later I wondered, why was I ever even worried about my own abilities?


I am dedicated.
I am strong.
I'm not a quitter.
I can achieve this goal if I try.
I can be a runner if I want to be.


And when I stepped off that treadmill and headed into the locker room endorphins firing, positivity brimming, and dripping with the intensity of someone who has been singularly focused for the past 40 minutes– well what do you know?


A part of me felt recovered. 

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Notes From A Novice Runner - This Post Brought to You by You Tube

A couple months ago, after a few successes at CrossFit and a few somewhat heavy pours of Pinot Noir, I got the balls to sign up for the Seattle Rock n Roll Half Marathon.  At the time I was mostly concerned about the physical endurance aspect of the event -- could I physically prepare myself to run 13.1 miles IN A ROW, AT THE SAME TIME?  All these runner types insist on this "in a row" business when they coordinate their races, which um-- hello? if I run 100 miles over the course of my lifetime you better believe I'm gonna call myself an Ultra Marathoner in my mind because I'm delusional like that.  Ok not really, but the point is that the physical endurance was at the forefront of my mind.  But a few months into preparing myself for this endeavor (and yes, I realize most people need weeks to prepare for a half marathon but I need months) I've had a few other realizations.

The first realization that I had when I started spending afternoons on a treadmill in the dungeon like gym at my office was that Holy Moses! Bo and Hope are still on Days of Our Lives.  I mean seriously?  You would have thought Stefano had killed them off by now, right?  That guy really knows how to drag things out. Also, I realized that I have no idea how to use the remote in this gym.  You would think it is a remote control and how complicated can it really be, AND YET.  The last time I was regularly watching Days of Our Lives was circa 1993, so to call this discovery shocking is an understatement.   

Realization number 2?  Music is not a 'nice to have' it is a 'need to have' along with a headband for my very cute but very UN-functional-when-running bangs.   Could I have picked a worse haircut for athletic endeavors?  No, no I could not have.  Anyway, we were talking music, not hair.  Sorry about that.  So yes, I NEED music when running, especially on the treadmill.  And oh my god, why did I never realize that the treadmill is actually a thing of torture all those years when I was feeling jealous of people running along next to me at 24 Hour Fitness?  Running outside is so much easier because there are like, landmarks that you pass.  And the scenery changes.  And ohmygod looking at Bo and Hope for an hour is quite difficult to do actually.  What is easier on the treadmill though is controlling my pace.  Treadmills have a good grip on Ron Popeil's Set It And Forget It!  mentality, and I have a harder time doing that when I run outside.  Total sidebar here:  We just got a hand me down rotisserie (Don't worry, from my aunt, not just some random person.  How gross would that be?  A secondhand meat juice maker.  HORK!)  and the thought of being able to rotisserie my own meat brings me so much joy!  And yes, I realize right in this moment that you probably think I have a small and sad life, there's no need to point it out.


Anyway, music!  Music!  Get back to music.  So, Eminem.  He is my running messiah, really.  What?  A drug addled rapper isn't who you would choose?  That's weird.   Well, frankly Eminem is really one of the only artists who can penetrate The Tunnel of Pain.   And while we are discussing The Tunnel of Pain, let me tell you I could have written that essay.  I NEVER hear the music at CrossFit and Garrett always hears it.  Neither of us can get over the fact that the other one experiences it differently.  CrossFit has made me realize that we all go to different places while being tortured.  I go to The Tunnel of Pain.  And unfortunately I do not pass go OR collect $200 beforehand.  

So yeah, when I'm in The Tunnel, not much gets through but I can tell you this song does. 



Best running song ever.  

And if I was in middle school and You Tube was my binder I would circle this video with pink puffy hearts.  And if I was Mark Wahlberg I would tattoo "Eminem 4 Eva" into my chest with a Bic Pen because I'm that hardcore dedicated. (Sidebar Numero Dos:  Someone on the Twitter the other day mentioned "Fear" being one of those movies that they can't NOT watch if it is on TV.  I wholeheartedly concur!  That is one of the best most ridiculous movies you will ever watch, and if you haven't seen it please do yourself a favor and Netflix it immediately.)  


So again, back to Eminem.  This post needs some Ritalin.


Something about 5 minutes of Military Cadence in the background makes me grab myself by the bootstraps when I'm about to crap out and say "Quit being a wimp and press on!"  Oh, and then there's the Nate Dogg factor.  Nate Dogg always makes a song better.  It's just science, don't argue with science.  What ever happened to him, by the way?  I actively miss him.  All this Bruno Mars, Justin Bieber bologna makes me long for 90s Rappers like a Victorian woman longs for her fainting couch.  And seriously when I hear songs like this new Matthew Morrison song (the nail in Glee's coffin) or Kim Kardashians new single  it makes me want to take a bath in NWA and then douse myself with some 2 Pac.  I may just put 3 hours of Eminem on repeat for The Big Day (interspersed with some  Regulators, of course).  Oh yeah, and you read that right, I said 3 hours.  Because my goal time is right around there.  And yes, I'm fully aware that many people run FULL marathons in that amount of time and all I can say about that is those people are not me.  

The thought of doing anything for 3 hours still makes me shake my head.

Which brings me to the main realization that I have had:  Running is like 30% Physical and 70% Mental, which does not bode well for the fact that my focus thus far has been mostly on the Physical.  Why has no one thought to tell me this?  No matter how rested, stretched, headbanded, and shiny I feel when I start a run, I spend the first mile bitching in my head solely because I have been taken out of my comfortable state of stasis and my poor little brain doesn't know what to make of it.  It happens Every. Single. Time.  Usually when I get to the second mile and the running becomes the stasis I'm a little bit better, but OOF -- that first mile is always rough.  

So all of this is to say that lately my life looks like various arrangements of the following: Eat, Work, Run, CrossFit, Cook, Thank Garrett for Cleaning, Google Ron Popeil videos, Try to Enjoy Some Alone Time, Catch Some Bad Television and Sleeeeeeeeep, Glorious Sleep.  


It's a small life.  But it's a good life.  


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You Would Think It's The Lunatic Fringe...

Here's a nice video from Robb Wolf and Art De Vany's appearance on Nightline last night that will function as a 5 minute answer to all those questions I keep getting about what my weight loss secret has been. 

It is also the cliffs notes answer to the question of "What have you and Garrett been up to lately?"  

Well, this is it. 

All in all, pretty nice coverage, I thought. 



I haven't forgot about my forthcoming post on transitioning to a Paleo kitchen.  It's coming soon!

Elsewhere

For those of you interested, I posted a little update over at Bodies in Motivation.  

I'm still amazed at the results yielded by a tiny tweak in my diet and workout routine.  This isn't going to turn into an "I Love CrossFit" blog, but some of the strides I've made with health and fitness this year just feel like a big deal to me, so hopefully you don't mind when I share.

Hope you all had a wonderful holiday! 

 

Moving Mountains One WOD at a Time

My first Crossfit workout was on October 9th.  It's hard to believe it's only been a few months.  It took me probably a year to finally get the guts to show up to one of the Saturday Drop In Workouts and now it feels like something I have been doing my whole life.  On my first day I was in a state of panic from the moment I showed up to the moment I left.  Well if I'm being honest, at the end of the day the panic had morphed into a low grade exhaustion, but you know what I'm getting at.  I dragged Garrett with me as my security blanked and into the box we went -- first getting a mini tour, a brief synopsis of what Crossfit was all about, an overview of the Paleo diet, an introduction to The White Board, and then we warmed up and did our first WOD --- The Newbie WOD. 

3-5 rounds for time of the following: 

20 box jumps
10 push ups
10 sit ups
10 squats

It seemed innocuous enough, no scary names or Olympic Weightlifting.  No weird abbreviations or unintelligible combinations of exercises.  Plain and simple -- I imagine they do this on purpose.   

I gave it my all, I survived 3 rounds and then I had had enough.  18 minutes and 32 seconds. 

I had pushed myself enough just showing up, frankly, so I was ok only completing the minimum.  I modified the box jumps by doing step ups on a 12 inch box, but overall felt relatively pleased with my performance.  Then I went home and was sore for 5 days.  Hella sore, actually.  Like don't drink any water because then I will just have to sit down to go to the bathroom sore, if you know what I'm saying.

So last night when I headed into the gym, guess what showed up on The White Board?  A little revisit to The Newbie WOD for comparison.  A little check-in on the progress.  And after 2 months and 2 weeks my workout shook out as follows:

I completed all 5 rounds (woot!)
20 box jumps (this time I used the 20 inch box -- still modified though for my precious knees!)
10 push ups
10 sit ups
10 squats

Finished in 14:15. 

This morning, I'm a little sore but nothing crazy.  Mostly my upper body is sore because we worked Shoulder Presses for about 15 minutes before we even started that newbie WOD, so it was like two workouts in one!  

I felt pretty amazed last night in the obvious increase in my physical endurance.  After only two months!  One of the things I tell myself now when I'm mid-workout and feel like I'm going to keel over and die is that I can stand around and have those thoughts and delay finishing my workout, or I can push through and think about how tired I am while getting one squat closer to being finished.  So my mental endurance is improving as well.  :)

It's funny how sometimes we put off reaching for our goals because they seem so overwhelming or out of reach.  It seems like they would take too big of a commitment, or require a life U-turn of epic proportions and really, who has time for that?  What Crossfit has taught me in a very short amount of time is that sometimes you just have to show up and try hard.  

Holly's New Rules For Life:
1.  Show Up
2.  Try Hard

You don't have to be the best or the fastest or the strongest, you just have to keep showing up and ultimately you will get somewhere.  Sometimes you will get to where you thought you were going, and sometimes you will go even further than you thought you could.  They say if you want to move mountains you have to start with a single stone, right?  I'm so happy I lifted that first stone because now I'm dead lifting 220 lbs (that's two supermodels!), shoulder pressing 80lbs (small children, anyone?), doing handstand push ups, squatting with barbells full of weight over my head, pushing and pulling myself and sweating through every goddamn t-shirt that I own.

But every time I look up at the horizon, that mountain gets just a little bit smaller.