Welcome!Hey there! I'm Holly. A 40+ year old insurance-nerd wife, mom, beauty lover, and about a million other things in between. This is the place where I share about our lives, what I'm currently loving, books I'm reading, plus-size style, beauty recommendations, health + fitness endeavors and anything else I'm finding interesting at the moment. Thanks for stopping by!
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This is a very grainy picture of the house where I grew up in Fremont, California.
We drove by it Saturday night and despite the terrible lighting and the fact that we had a 2 hour drive ahead of us, I insisted on stopping to take a picture of it. This is the sidewalk where I used to play hopscotch. The street where I learned to ride a bike. That window on the right is where our two golden retrievers used to sit and stand guard, waiting for someone to come home with their noses sticking to the window. This neighborhood is where I made my first friends, walked to school and indulged my teenaged entrepreneurial tendencies by starting a little babysitting ring. It was a good house, and I lived there from the time I was shorter than our kitchen table until the end of high school.
My parents sold that house when I was 17. I went away to college and never really got to come back “home,” although they stayed living in the same town. A couple of years later my dad passed away, and though I spent a year living back in this city where I grew up, I eventually moved on to Los Angeles and then to Sacramento (where I live now) because my mom and grandparents had made their way up there. This year I will have spent as many years away from Fremont as I did living there.
I moved to Sacramento to go to college and it was somewhat arbitrary. I didn’t imagine staying long and I never imagined calling it home. But then of course I met a boy. And slowly but surely friends and family starting moving up towards our direction. I’d run into high school friends at my job, and see the parents of people I graduated with at the grocery store. More family moved closer, good friends moved away from my hometown to other cities and states, and little by little there were less people to go back and visit in Fremont.
My Aunt and Uncle, however, continued to remain there in their home of more than 20 years. In my mind, that house is filled with just as many memories as my own. It is where my cousins and I would have sleepovers, where we would run around in the backyard. As I child I remember it was the fun house with cable television and the Good Cereal. (Sorry, Mom. Grape Nuts was not that exciting as a kid. :)) And when they sold it about a month ago to move up to a little town about 20 minutes from Garrett’s and my house I was ridiculously excited! More family nearby — YES! But also, there was a part of my that was just a tiny bit sad.
No more family in Fremont.
Saturday afternoon my mom and Garrett and I ventured back to Fremont for a big friends and family BBQ and one last hurrah at my aunt and uncle’s house. It is so exciting that they are starting a new chapter, retiring, moving closer to us, and building their dream house. But it also tugged on the heart strings just a bit that this chapter of my hometown was being closed for good. I grew up there. Many of my cousins grew up there. All of our parents grew up there. It’s where my dad made a name for himself, and where he died. There are memories around every corner, and now there will be no trace of us.
As with any goodbye, there is a little sadness. But when one chapter ends, another starts and that is exactly what we were celebrating on Saturday. There were family, friends and neighbors in spades all clinking their glasses to good things and good lives. Garrett and I did not resist the siren song of red wine as we thought we might, but after 32 days of clean eating and no drinking, it was a lovely day and occasion in which to imbibe!
All of us will miss that house and that town for sure, but we will carry the good memories with us as we all start our own families.
The Fremont chapter is over, but the book of our family is long and ever evolving.
The thing about time is that it just keeps moving. It doesn’t pause for anyone to get caught up, make their way or catch their breath. Every once in a while we stop long enough to do the math, count the days, sing Happy Birthday, note the month, marvel at years that have gone by — but even as we do it, time flies flies right by with no regard to your particular goals or agendas.
For me, today, 14 years have gone by. It’s a day where I always pause and note the passage.
The pain of losing a parent doesn’t get better. People tell you (and genuinely hope for you, I believe) that time will heal all wounds but the truth is that time is ruthless and unfeeling. And the relationship between time and pain is nowhere near linear. When it comes to healing, time actually fails quite spectacularly, in my opinion. I try and re-focus the sentiment in order to assuage my grief: Time does not heal all wounds, but it does allow you to find a comfort level with the pain. Yes, this sounds better. And in a way this is slightly more accurate, but it still doesn’t get to the root of the experience.
This week, as the date has approached and I have paused to feel that passage. I have again sought out a way for my mind to make sense of this experience. Of this loss. It’s a continuous adventure actually, trying to figure it all out, and the event itself is a tiny scratch on the camera lens through which I view every single day of my life. This year it feels very present.
We are trying to plan a wedding. We are taking steps towards having a baby. There is no way to get through these types of moments without being acutely aware that my father is gone and will not be a part of any of it. They are happy and momentous occasions, and to go through them without focusing on what is missing will take discipline, because no matter how you dress it all up, there will be an empty space where he should be.
But emptiness is not the only experience. I mentioned discipline, and the thing about this entire situation — this event that has shaped who I am in how I live — is that I am no stranger to discipline as a coping mechanism. In the past few years I have felt more motivated than ever to get my health in check. People ask me all the time how I stay so disciplined and I always struggle with how to answer. I hear on a regular basis, “How do you do what you do?” “I don’t have that kind of time or energy.” “I can’t be so extreme, but I appreciate that you are so focused.” And I totally get all of that. I wish I could tell you my discipline comes from a pill or a beverage or an inspirational quote pinned on a pinboard near you. But the truth is my discipline comes from a place of self-preservation.
What motivates me to get out of bed in the morning, or to get into the gym, or to eat strictly for 30 days like a crazy person is that one morning I woke up, got dressed, ate breakfast and watched my father collapse on our living room floor. I watched his lips turn blue and his face get puffy and the life slip right out of him in a matter of seconds. It happened in an instant, and from that day forward he was gone. No trace of our times spent together except for what has lived on in my memory. On that day he became a story. He became past tense. He became a bookended period of time.
Things change faster than your brain can process it, and this event for me that has left, among other things, an indelible drive to take advantage of my own life. A drive to make sure I do all that I can to make sure the hole I leave in the lives of my friends and family as small as possible. I am motivated and I am disciplined because it helps me compartmentalize my pain. It helps the world around me make sense. And it is not something that I would want to advise another person on. I am not trying to win at life, or prove that I’m the best or be an inspiration. I am just a girl who is trying to make sense of it all, and more importantly trying to make the most of her time.
Well you know he has a salty sense of humor and a high tolerance for crazy (hello — he’s dating ME!) but there may be some things you don’t know about the boy behind the blog. Today I thought it might be fun to pull back the curtain a little on my favorite dude ever.
1. His name isn’t really Garrett.
No, this isn’t some blogger pseudonym, he does actually go by Garrett in real life too, but his parents actually named him Charles. So on paper he is really Charles Garrett Franklin even though has always gone by the Garrett. You know when he’s not answering to G-Unit, G-Money or G-Funk. Charles is a family name and they liked the way Charles Garrett sounded rather than Garrett Charles so that’s what they named him. After a lifetime of telling teachers that he doesn’t go by Charles, he definitely won’t do that to our own kids.
2. The word “Husky” gives him PTSD.
Oh the awkward years. During Garrett’s (Late 80s/Early 90s) he had to buy “husky” sized pants but not everyone carried them back then. Since pants were such a booty-licious drama, and Garrett’s grandma was skilled enough to sew him pants, he used to pick out fabric from the store, send it to her and she would mail back his own couture Hammer Pants.
COUTURE HAMMER PANTS, you guys.
3. He is obsessed with all motorsports. Well, except Nascar.
Formula One, Moto GP, World Super Bike, V8 Super Cars, Indy Car, World Rally, OMG the list goes on and on. If it has wheels, he will probably watch it race all while nail biting, yelling at the television, and pre-empting the announcers. I think his dream career is basically to be Will Buxton. If you want to know why he doesn’t love Nascar you’ll have to ask him. The answer is waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay too long and thought out for one bullet point.
4. He is also an only child.
Yep. We’re both lonely onlies. Well, except neither of us is lonely. That said, we are both completely comfortable with the idea of having an only child. Or of having 10,000 babies. We’ll just have to see what happens. It makes both of our extended families super small, but we are lucky that we both have awesome cousins who are similar ages that make up for the lack of siblings.
5. He is basically fearless – unless you want to stick a needle in him or touch his eye, take a picture of him or blog about him.
Garrett will only have blood drawn in life or death situations. Oddly enough, he was in an EMT/Paramedic program for awhile and was around needles all the time with no problem. Just don’t bring the needles around his arm. Similarly, he will avoid cameras like the plague. He hates having his picture taken and whenever I talk about blogging about him he gets a little itchy. Today’s post was collaborative, and he only agreed to it because so many of you requested “More Garrett!” on my recent survey. I’m sure after this post he’ll probably go underground or something. 🙂
6. The eye ball fear is inconvenient since he is almost completely blind without his glasses.
I mean like Bliiiiiiiiiiiii-ind. But he refuses to even think about lasik because he is sure there is needles and eye balls involved and that is a No-Go.
7. His Bachelor Decor when we met left a lot to be desired
All I will say about this is when we met he had a Lindsay Lohan poster hanging in his living room. Sure this was pre-coke-head Lindsay who was darling, but oh has he never lived that down. Speaking of things he’ll never live down, he used to have a Laser Tag blanket on his bed.
“What? It’s a blanket. And it still works!” This was his 22 year old excuse for terrible bedding, and literally the next day I took him to the mall and made him buy a legit duvet. Bachelor men, man.
8. He is an encyclopedia of random BBC programming
Inspectory Lynley, Ballykiss Angel, Luther, Prime Suspect, Torchwood, Keeping Up Appearances — all shows Garrett has turned me onto. He is a veritable Anglophile when it comes to TV and Mini Series’ but oddly enough he was a hard sell on Downton Abbey at first. Obviously he totally came around.
9. He has a serious mayonnaise aversion, but beyond that he will eat almost anything. And 10 times more of it than you would expect.
Even amazing homemade mayo hasn’t converted him. And he can practically spidey-sense it if it’s in his food. He should bottle that skill and sell it. But instead he just refuses to eat mayonnaise based dishes. That said, he doesn’t refuse to eat much else. He can be a really impressive glutton when he puts his mind to it. 🙂
10. One of his major life regrets is sitting next to Suge Knight in the airport once and not talking to him.
Hope you learned something new about my Partner in Crazy!
Yesterday I woke up at 5 am and made Monday my bitch. I had a quick lunch, was super productive in the afternoon and by 5pm I was at the gym sweating like my head was a water faucet (it wasn’t even that hot!) The workout was brutal — Cleans and Cleans and MORE CLEANS, but since I have been working reeeeeeeeeeeeeeally hard to improve my clean form the past 3 weeks I wasn’t all that sad to see them on the menu. There is something incredibly satisfying about doing hard work and actually seeing progress. I left the gym exhausted and molded myself right into the scorching leather of my car’s seat and headed home.
Halfway home I decided this gorgeous evening called for some sun roof action. It was super windy and even in a ponytail my hair was kind of blowing all over the place. I clicked through some radio stations playing endless iterations of teeny-bop boy bands and as I got to my last pre-set this song came on:
It’s a song that I must have listened to a thousand times the summer I met Garrett and instantly it reminded me of hot nights, drinking beers on patios, playing darts, feeling the twinge of butterflies and getting to know someone new. I smiled a little bit to myself, turned the radio up way louder than appropriate for a 33 year old woman driving a Subaru and drove home thinking that this song was indeed a seed planted all those years ago. And almost 10 years later I am just so happy that it is still growing.
Thanks for the encouraging words Friday, y’all. Couple that with a productive (and celebratory) weekend and I feel like I’m getting my head back on straight!
I had Friday off from work and it was nice to just get some stuff done around the house and then officially start the weekend. Sarah and I enjoyed a little Happy Hour action over at de Vere’s Irish Pub. I like the vibe there and their fried pickles are always on point. We had closed out our tab when we overheard the bartender mention that the tacos of the day were Pork Belly. You know that is the secret password around here, right? OBVIOUSLY we had to immediately open a tab back up and order some. In the end, we were both convinced that those tacos were chicken, which was quite a sad situation for a pork belly enthusiast like myself, but the company and the libations were fantastic! And I guess I should have gone in with low expectations — I mean, tacos at an Irish bar?
The Black and Tans, on the other hand, were FABULOUS.
Saturday was a big day as wedding bells were ringing for my cousin Jim and his fiance Gina. Garrett, my mom and I packed up early and headed out for a day in Sonoma to watch them get hitched over at the Jack London Lodge. If you have been around here long, you know trips to Sonoma involve some customary food-related Traditions:
Glarifees at Swisshotel and Sandwiches and the Cheese Factory
(I explain the Glarifee here. Definitely worth a try if you are in the area!)
After that little indulgence, we headed over to the wedding which was, in a word: emotional. I am a crazy wedding cryer. I can be completely composed before the wedding but the second it starts it’s just WATERWORKS! I am surprised I don’t look like a raccoon in every photography I am in. I was so proud of my cousin Jim standing up there with his lovely bride and their ceremony and vows were personal and beautiful and you just couldn’t help but feel the love!
At the reception, my 10 year old cousin Olivia gave us a lesson in how to be fierce and my 2 year old cousin Chelsea schooled ALL OF US on the dance floor! Oh also, there were Samoa flavored cupcakes. No one can resist those! It was coconut cake FILLED with chocolate. Aaaaaah, delicious! A good time was had and memories were made, and that was just what I needed on Saturday.
Sunday I woke up and felt determined to get things back on track! My mom and I hit up the Farmers Market, I cooked some breakfast, prepped for the week and ran out to the garden to pick some zucchini.
Guess I negelected them for a a day or two. YIKES! Regardless, after a month of boozing it up and enjoy some crap food liberally, I’m ready to get things back on track. My fridge is stocked with healthy food and even though I have no idea What’s For Dinner beyond tonight (Uh, I was serious about Zucchini Boats), I’m getting there.
It’s a new week, a new month and I woke up this morning and consciously put on a new attitude. I’m ready to see how this all unfolds.
POSTED IN: Farmers Market, Glarifee, Jack London Lodge, Sonoma, Sonoma Cheese Factory, Wedding, Zucchini
POSTED IN: Farmers Market, Glarifee, Jack London Lodge, Sonoma, Sonoma Cheese Factory, Wedding, Zucchini
A mother is the truest friend we have, when trials heavy and sudden, fall upon us; when adversity takes the place of prosperity; when friends who rejoice with us in our sunshine desert us; when trouble thickens around us, still will she cling to us, and endeavor by her kind precepts and counsels to dissipate the clouds of darkness, and cause peace to return to our hearts.
Truer words have never been spoken.
In this phase of my life, as I wish and dream for my own family, I feel eternally grateful for the amazing mentor I have in my mom. No one does it better.
I love you, Mom!
I think I’ve told you this before but I reeeeeeeeally had to twist Garrett’s arm to get him to come to CrossFit with me for the first time. I believe his exact response was, “No thanks. I don’t need to be a (F-Bomb) Navy Seal.” He had watched a few videos on the internet after I suggested it and instantly decided it was not for him.
(Sidebar: If you are thinking about CrossFit, disregard 90% of the meat head videos on the internet. This is NOT real life.)
Anyway, I finally pleaded my case to him and said that I just didn’t want to go alone. Would he just consider coming with me once, and then if he hated it he never had to go back again. That was almost a year an a half ago, so it’s no spoiler how that all worked out. Now he loves it! Well, at least most of the time. 🙂
We have both seen a ridiculous amount of positive changes, individually, because of Crossfit. But the thing that has been the most awesome (and partly because it was completely unexpected) is that it has really helped strengthen our relationship. Bonus! Caity over at Moi Contre La Vie wrote about something similar recently and it inspired me to share our experience.
Here are five big reasons that I’m so glad that Garrett and I CrossFit together:
1. There’s Always A Hand to Hold (Or, Rather A Spotter Handy)
Starting something new can be scary for anyone, which is why it is sometimes easier to do with a friend because you can pump each other up and strategize before or after class. When you do it with a significant other though — the person who can read your non-verbal cues like a book — it’s almost even more comforting. Garrett can tell when I’m nervous or feeling insecure and I can do the same. We both make an effort to support each other a little extra in those moments.
2. You’ll Have Your Own Secret Language
Whispering sweet nothings about snatch technique, surely.
Having individual fitness goals that you can talk about together is not only beneficial for keeping on track, but it creates a level of intimacy. I know when I make a goal Garrett is 100% in my corner. He keeps me honest and pushes me when I need it, and I do the same for him. It’s built in accountability and built in understanding. Although on the other hand — it’s a built in bullshit detector. Garrett can always tell when I’m making excuses and I can do the same. That’s the best/worst part. 🙂
3. Having a One Man Cheering Section Feels Pretty Great
We all have bad days. I had a remarkably bad one doing Fran the other day because I was feeling insecure, I wasn’t in a great head space and I let something get to me that I shouldn’t have. Ten thrusters in I dropped the barbell feeling so defeated, but Garrett quickly came over and started pep-talking me back into a good head space. And he knows just how to do that because he is my Partner in Crime. He followed me around for the next 6 minutes just like an overly aggressive Soccer Dad. And while that sounds nutso, it was JUST WHAT I NEEDED in that moment. And I was so grateful for him afterward.
4. We Now Prioritize Spending Time Together Improving Ourselves
Post-Workout Afterglow is one part sweatiness, one part happiness
I used to always spent 5-6 hours a week at the gym, but back in the day that was time that I spent away from Garrett. Alone time is necessary (OBVIOUSLY) but sharing a fitness routine for us has increased not only the quantity of time we get to spend together, but it has improved the quality of time. Now instead of spending that time watching tv or reading, we get to spend 5-7 hours a week supporting each other through challenging workouts. And it overflows into other things like making new recipes together, or supporting our buddies at CrossFit competitions on the weekends too. It’s fun having a shared interest that works its way into your social life. Speaking of social life…
5. It’s A Great Way To Meet Other Couples With Similar Interests
photo courtesy of Caity
Making friends as an adult is haaaaaaard, right? And making Friends Who Are Couples is also kind of a challenge. But lots of couples enjoy working out together, and it’s fun to have met so many in our short time CrossFitting. I just don’t think you don’t get that going to a regular gym, right? I mean can you imagine how creeper that would be if you were approached by folks on the prowl for couple friends at a 24 Hour Fitness? Awkward! 🙂 I’d be wondering if they were going to invite us to a key party, or trying to sell us on their pyramid scheme.
The most important thing that I’m constantly reminded of though when we head into our CrossFit box each though isn’t only specific to working out. When it comes to fitness, life, or especially relationships I think that there have been no truer words spoken than the one’s written on the back’s of all of our sweatshirts:
True Story, my friends. True Story. And I’m just so happy we’ve found such a fun way to put work into our relationship.
*unless otherwise noted, all photos courtesy of American River CrossFit.
Today is my dad’s birthday, and he would have been 58. It’s hard to believe he has been gone for so long but I can honestly say that this has been a good year for me so far in the Grief Management category. I know that sounds silly. He’s been gone for 14 years and I’m still managing grief, but there it is. But today I don’t feel the huge pull of loss, as I have in the past. Today I am sort of overwhelmed with gratitude, so I’m going to make a right turn. Today, instead of talking about my dad, I think it’s high time I talk about my mom.
You see, my mom kind of gets the shaft around here. I mean, my dad has a category all to himself just because he isn’t around whereas I talk to my mom at least once a day and she has to share one with the entire rest of my family. Actually we were laughing about that this weekend.
My mom came into town on Friday and stayed a couple days, and while she only lives 30 minutes away it is so rare these days that we get to spend THAT MUCH TIME just hanging out. We had dinner at Roxy and there were cocktails and appetizers and goat cheese smothered burgers and great conversation. It was pouring down rain, but I am telling you nothing was going to dampen our Girls’ Night Out! Then we headed over to the 24th Street Theater and caught a performance of Legally Blonde The Musical and giggled until way past our bedtimes (Mom and I are early to bed, early to rise kind of gals!) and schemed about all of the cooking we are going to do this coming weekend in celebration of my Aunt’s birthday.
Saturday we got up at the CRACK OF DAWN, because that’s what we do when we hang out. There is never enough time so we always end up getting up at 5am and yapping and planning over our morning coffee. She went to CrossFit with Garrett and I since we had to squeeze our Open Workout and cheered us both on like it was HER JOB. And then we all came home and did some relaxing until she eventually had to head home.
It was such a blast!
And on a day like today, where I am certainly feeling the loss of one of my parents, I continue to have gratitude in the fact that the silver lining of losing my dad is that there is no one I am closer to than my mom. We’ve been through a lot together, she and I. Some very tough and very dark times, just the two of us. And our relationship reflects that — there is no one I feel more proud of, or more protective of than my mom.
When you are an only child and you lose a parent, and entire third of your family is gone. What remains is the kind of bond that can’t be broken by a disagreement or some petty bickering. We don’t take our relationship for granted because we know how quickly everything can change. How in an instant, one of us could be all that is left. And then there would only be one.
So when we have the chance to spend a weekend giggling, indulging and spending some quality time together, when we have the time to just hang around and enjoy each others company — I can’t help but think that my dad would recognize what a gift that is. And since it’s his birthday, I think it’s even all the more appropriate.
Garrett and I are celebrating our 6 year anniversary today. And as two people who do not count “gifts” as their love language AT ALL we will probably do something lame like go out to dinner at restaurant where we have a coupon and then come home and watch Beavis and Butthead on the DVR. I kind of can’t wait — it will be epic, I’m sure.
I am not going to show you lots of photos of us in love. Though I did slap up some funny photos of us last year on this date, so if that’s your bag, head on over. I’m not going to tell you how I think it is fate that we are together because I’m pretty sure I’ve told you that story once before. Yep, here it is. (Apparently this post is getting linktastic!) Instead I thought I would tell you some things that I love about Garrett that you might not know, because who doesn’t love a list? And I always like to hear this from my own friends — what is it about your main squeeze that makes you love them? So here goes.
I love Garrett because:
*He fixes things when they break. Like all things. Like there is not one thing he doesn’t know how to fix. I can’t even bring myself to fix a cocktail after a long day of work sometimes, so it goes without saying that I find this skill impressive.
*He finishes projects that I start after I get bored. Which, um…happens more than I like to admit. I planted the garden, Garrett watered it. I harvested the vegetables and cooked with them but he pulled all the plants when it was there time. You know what I’m saying here right. (Yes, I’m saying that I am lazy. But he NEVER makes me feel this way)
*He mows the lawn and does the laundry and cleans the toilets and I love him times A MILLION for all those things alone
*He lets me take pictures of him in my sunglasses and put them on the internet because I think it’s funny
Garrett is a very private individual and the thought of his business being OUT THERE on THE INTERNET kind of makes him want to break out in hives sometimes. You all, he refuses to even get on Facebook! But he supports all of my passions (including the upkeep and maintenance on this website) and he has become comfortable with the idea that this may mean his face will show up a time or two. In a VERY LARGE size. And I love him for that.
*His sense of humor is very inappropriate. Like VERY inappropriate. Not like rude or asshole-ish but just very dry. His sense of humor is the Sahara effing Dessert. But also, IT IS HYSTERICAL. He just says the funniest things, you all! And half the time I can’t even blog about it because I think someone will not understand, so I don’t. But I am hoping one day The Internet will get to enjoy his silliness. (Get a twitter account, Garrett! *hint hint)
*He looks very cute while playing Baby Whisperer
I mean of course I want to have a family and raise children and all of that nice life-benchmark-y type of stuff. But honestly, there is just an overabundance of excitement when I think not only do I get to do that (hopefully) but I GET TO DO THAT WITH GARRETT! He’s going to be such a good dad!
He’s just the best thing, you guys. I feel happy every day knowing that I get to come home and rehash our days and cook dinner and work out and read books together. My simple little life is just so much better with him (and his cute scruffy beard) in it, and I think my lucky stars daily that I found him!
When I was 18 a group of my friends and I got together for a girls night out and headed to some seedy piercing parlor in Oakland where we promptly needled ourselves into some fabulous new face accessories. For me it was my eyebrow, tongue and that weird little tab on the inside of my ear. What’s that called again? I don’t know but it hurt like CAH-RAZY and I did both sides.
Look it was 1996, don’t judge me alright. This was not the stupidest thing I did at age 18.
What I remember most about that experience — aside from how bad it hurt the next day when my dad used his needle nose pliers from the garage to “help me” remove the damage I had done to my face (he let me keep the tongue piercing because he couldn’t see it – HA!), and how stupid it was to spend almost $200 on jewelry only to be forced to remove it all the following day (that’s what you get for still living at home!) — was the expression on the business card that the piercing lady gave us as we all departed.
“It hurts to be beautiful.”
Despite the fact that I have grown out of my desire for facial piercings (let me be clear: I’m not judging YOU, I just don’t like them for ME) I still use that phrase every so often because it gives me a little chuckle. Mostly I say it when Garrett shakes his head at me on a 100 degree day when I am standing under a hot blow dryer or when I am staring myself down in the mirror plucking my eyebrows. But I thought of this expression again this morning as I watched the recap video of last weekend’s Fight Gone Bad festivities over at my CrossFit box.
Here are all of these people push themselves to their limits — doing things they didn’t think they could do, lifting things they didn’t think they could lift. Pushing themselves for 17 minutes of anxiety and pain. I spent those 17 minutes stressing about jumping on a box that I wasn’t sure I could jump on (20 inches! That is HIGH for me!) and had never successfully done for an entire WOD.
But you know what, I did it! And so did they! We all set out to have a good time, make some goals and GIT’R DONE! (Ha! I hate that expression but sometimes it’s so appropriate.)
And in the end, it HURT. LIKE. HELL.
But when I watched this video and relived that afternoon in my mind, all I could think of was — Hot Damn! It does hurt to be beautiful, and there are a lot of beautiful people at this gym. Inside and Out.
(And then I secretly thanked my dad for making me take out my eyebrow ring, because…really? It was not a good look.)
My very advanced strategy – :28
The Pain Begins – 2:18
How it felt (the visual) – 2:32
What we looked like when done – 3:37
Oh just go watch it already!
Totally perfect song, right????