Twenty-two months is a long time!

Like forever.  Or it will feel that way if the last 6 months are any indication.  So what happens in 22 months?  I get to go back to the east coast.  I realize it could be longer because the USMC has a way of fucking up the best laid plans but I absolutely cannot think about that right now.  Cannot.

I've already got the trifecta of stress to deal with - too far from home, shitty job, cesspool rental house - and no ability to change any of them.  None.  Not a single thing I can do to unfuck any of it.   This has me pretty stressed out.  Considering I am a tightly wound, type A control freak when everything is going awesome, this is a problem.  This crap just snowballs - I get stressed, I get tense, my neck and traps turn into bricks.  Especially on that broken left side.  Then I have to modify by workout because nerves get entrapped and my elbow starts acting up.  My shoulder hurts.  That 5 hours of sleep a night I usually get just became 2.  Now I have an even worse attitude, I am too tired to chew my food and I don't give a fuck about anything.  Including going to the gym.  And when lunch time rolls around, screw chicken, bring on the pizza.  You know, cause I didn't eat my first 2 meals.  So somehow, I need to lower the stress level so I go to the gym and eat more chicken.

The only plan I can come up with is to break the time up - two month intervals and assign goals/tasks to each one.  Something to obsess over and keep me busy after work.  So I don't dwell on the fact this house is vile and isn't even close to something I would consider a home.  (And in case you are wondering, in CA you can win a lawsuit over the nutritional value of Nutella but you can't get out of a lease when your appliances don't work and windows don't open - just an FYI)

The first two months isn't really two months - it is now until I go on vacation in late September.  The goals for now are:

1. Stick to meal plan
2. Stick to workout plan
3. Find a way to compartmentalize work / home so I don't explode going from one bad situation to another.

The first two would be quite simple if it was not for the third goal.  That has been a huge issue since I got to CA in late January.  It is how I turned out at CrossFit - had I walked in the house after work, I would never leave to lift.  I'm back into my routine with lifting now but there are still days I struggle to get off my ass to go to the gym.  Once there, I have no problems.  But there are times I just want to sit.  And stare.  And wonder why it isn't 2014 yet.  My meals are better too.  Pretty much because there is NOTHING in the house or in my desk that isn't on my plan.  And my lunch buddy at work is traveling for 60 days.   The fact NFL training camps have started helps too - just don't think you are watching anything other than NFL Today in the lunch room at 1pm.  Because you aren't.  

I really don't know how I am tackling #3 yet.  This week I'm am going to drag Olie into the plan and take him for a walk every day as soon as I get home.  He needs to work on his fear of the big bad world  and maybe 20 minutes of fresh air will help me.  Then dinner.  Then the gym.  Then I can stare at the nasty walls and wonder why it isn't 2014.  

Why is it......

Every single time a woman tweaks something the first thing out of a man's mouth is something along the lines of "it must have been too heavy?"

Last week at work, I was stupid enough to help move some boxes and the first thing I hear is to watch my back.  Well, lifting/carrying 50 pounds or so ain't nothing - it was a few of the guys turning purple moving less than I was.  With a hand truck.  Next time I'll watch.  And giggle.  Because isn't giggling what girls are supposed to do?

Yesterday when I'm squatting some child wants to tell me I could squat more if I didn't go so deep.  Hmmmm.  Let me think about that.  I'm knocking off reps at 175 pounds and getting ass to calves every single time.  He has 225 on the bar and if I used so little leg drive on my push press I'd be hearing shit about it.  How about fuck you skinny boy?  Three inches of knee movement isn't a squat.  And you look stupid in that belt by the way.

I tweaked my shoulder squatting last night.  Yes.  You read that right.  I tweaked my shoulder squatting.  Only me.  I know.  NO the weight was NOT too heavy.  Yes, I know exactly how to rack a fucking bar.  I'm a klutz.  I run into things.  I often have unexplained bruises to prove it.  And that is what I did.  I ran right into the nice peg I should have rested the bar on.  Hard.  It sucked.   And I did 3 more sets after that.  Because I could.

Sure, I shouldn't still be hurting tonight after that.  But it was the LEFT shoulder.  And as we all know, the left side is the broken side.  Thank that asshole that rear ended me and caused the spinal fracture 19 years, 10.5 months ago.  Dumb random shit can cause a level of pain that just makes no sense unless you have lived it.  Like I do.  Every. Single. Day.  I don't know what it is like to spend a day without pain.  Sometimes it is dull.  Sometimes I consider amputating the offending part.  But I NEVER let it hold me back.  I may pause once and awhile like I did tonight but that was only because it was shoulder day.  I did a few handstand push ups, determined I will be just fine tomorrow so I might as well wait until I can kill the workout and took tonight off.  No meds.  No doctors.  No whining.

So why am I blogging about it?  That is sorta whining right?  I'd call it venting.  Please refer back to the first sentence.  Want to know how many times I have heard that today?  Too bad none of them will lift with me.  Pussies.

I'm over it.  I am over these dumbass boys and their pathetic egos.  There are women out there that can lift far more than you.  And I am not nearly as strong as I will be.  I will never be out worked.  Out gutted.  While you are running for Advil, I'm doing one more set.  Thanks for the motivation.  The fuel I need.  The days I fall into that West Coast depression I have something to fall back on.



To "not" understand or embrace the body's limitations from a physical or mental aspect is an injustice to the soul and its creator.  We must find a way to exploit our vulnerabilities.  We must find a way to dissect our weaknesses.  For how are we to know our true potential? - Mark Gingrich, Founder, HTFU