Another Goodbye

Death is suffocating and can take the happiest of spirits and damper them. It brings with it an overwhelming feeling of grief, guilt, anger, and whatever other feeling you want to insert here. I mentioned in my last post that I had never fully experienced a death so close to home as the lose of my grandparent's best friend two weeks ago. It seems that God decided to call another one of his people home.

Last Monday I lost my grandfather. A man whom I hadn't spoken to in years, but with his passing it hit me like a freight train. Two deaths in a matter of eight days is taxing on the emotions. It's is taxing on the body, but most of all on the soul. My grandfather was a man of many things; he was stationed at Pearl Harbor during WWII, he was famous for his story telling, and he was a man that my brother and I looked to with amazement in our eyes. Grandparents are very special people. They've gone through their years of discipline with their own children and it is now an opportunity to spoil those grandchildren. Story telling was his way of spoiling us. My brother and I were the youngest of his grandchildren, by a good 10 years. Whenever he'd visit we would stay up for hours listening to him tell his war stories, jokes, or any random story of the troublemaking my dad and his brothers got into. Even as a child, every Christmas we would call my Grandpa Martin (thinking it was Santa) and go on and on about what we wanted, how good we'd been, and he would merely egg us on with further questions.

We lost contact when my dad and I parted ways, or should I say I parted ways with him. My grandfather couldn't understand what on this earth could move me to not speak to my father anymore, it was a story that he didn't need to hear. I regret the fact that he died upset with me, for not reaching out and making amends with him. It scares me because it makes me realize that my mom's parents don't have that much time left, and it makes me sad just to think about the relationship that was missed out on over the last couple of years. It makes you realize what you have and it makes you realize what you want.

I have an ache in my stomach for the men who were called home over the past couple of weeks. At least they were taken to a better place and without pain.

Death is hard, but undeniably inevitable. May you forever rest in peace and know that you were always loved, from a distance. Grandpa Martin 11.11.13

"Are You Paying Attention?" - Sincerely, Life

Life has a great way of punching you in the mouth when you aren't paying attention, a kind reminder that you have gotten sidetracked with things. I got my punch in the mouth last weekend. Everybody and their mother knows that grad school has consumed my life...which is totally fine and I love what I am studying. I have a bad habit of secluding myself from the outside world when I am overwhelmed or stressed and I miss things, miss out on a lot of things I should say.

So far my first semester in grad school has been challenging, interesting, and above all mentally pushing (for lack of a better word). There is so much information out there that I am learning and have yet to learn. It is a fun and stressful experience all at the same time. With a commitment, one such as big as grad school, I am beginning to miss things. Miss my friends, my family, and normal hours and routines are beginning to change. Perhaps I am beginning to change.

This year has been a roller coaster with plenty of ups and certainly some downs. My mother was diagnosed with cancer in February. Something that a child never wants to hear. For so many years she had taken care of me and now it was my turn to step in and take care of her. For a recent update, she is doing well! She has passed all of her check-ups and looks to be in the clear. Cancer is scary, a scary word in itself and I pray that no one has to go through it or have a family member go through it. Unfortunately I got news last month that my best friend's mom was diagnosed with ovarian cancer. (This is the beginning of my punch in the mouth experience) when a friend's family goes through something like this, you go through it with them. You are there for support and encouragement, and hold the experience to perhaps ease their pain and fears, if only just a little bit.

I have a thing for people. When they hurt, I hurt. I care so much for the people who are in my life and who make it a great one. Earlier last week I got a call from a client who lost everything to a fire. Her dog and cat, her memories, and her home. My heart broke for her, even more so that there was nothing that I could do to help, but give her words of encouragement. Then last Saturday, (the full fledged punch) I got news that a close family friend passed away. Now I have yet to experience a death close to my family, so this was a first for me. Emotions ran rapid and I felt as if I couldn't control them. As my mom explained to me what had happened tears rolled down my face and my heart broke again, mainly for my grandparents and the wife of this beloved gentleman, as he was a major part of their lives.

Ted Cox, was my grandparents best friend. He was an integral part of my childhood/teen rebellion at the church where I grew up. Whenever he would come to our house for a visit he was always intrigued to know what was going on in my life. How is school? What are you studying? How many boys are chasing you? Typical questions. Ha. He was never without a joke or a smile and was loved by all who crossed his path. He reminded me of my grandfather, with his love for others and his reliance in answering my million questions. Ted was a retired veterinarian who loved helping people out with their pets. I have many memories of my grandpa, Ted, and I playing with my dog Max and him sharing his wealth of knowledge with me. He was a man with one of the kindest hearts that I have ever known and he is already greatly missed. It hurt to have to miss his funeral this weekend, and I pray that he's okay with that. I know he's looking down from heaven probably laughing about the whole thing.

I am not one who likes to talk about death, I think I have this secret hope that science will one day figure out a way for me to live forever. Haha. But when faced with tragedies such as this it makes me think. Makes me think about the person that I am and the one that I am becoming. What is it that I want to be remembered for? And the image that I want to leave behind?

I learned a long time ago that love and respect work far better than anger or hatred. I try to show love to everyone in my life. I try to go out of my way to make someone's day brighter or a little better, whether that be with a kind gesture or merely a smile. I've learned through this situation that time is precious, probably the most precious thing because ours is limited (cliché I know). I have learned that 20 seconds of insane, undeniable courage is better than none, and that doing things that excite you and scare you help you grow into a better and stronger person. I tell people how I feel because as I said, we don't have a whole lot of time on this planet, so why not go out on a limb to make someone's day better or tell someone that you care about them?

Believe me it's the best feeling in the world to open your heart to people, it may hurt sometimes, but the rewards are far better than the risks. I pray that I am remembered as Ted will be. A person who gives to and loves those whom she cares about, as well people I have never met.

May you forever rest in peace Ted. Know that we love you and miss you down here. Give God a hug for me will ya?

RIP Ted Cox 11.2.2013

A Lover of Rainy Days

I am a lover of rainy days, sweaters, and the warmth of a good cup of tea. I love looking out my window and watching the rain pour day and listening to the tap of it upon my rooftop.

Rainy days for me are my favorite days. Not that I don't enjoy the sun! There is a serenity and calmness that comes with a rain storm. An overwhelming peace that is bestowed upon the day. I love the rain because it brings back childhood memories of rain boots there were too big and puddles that were never quite big enough.

I went to my very first football game on a rainy day. An Arkansas Razorback (Woo Pig Sooie) game to be exact. They won against Auburn, a daddy-daughter day that I absolutely adored.

The rain brings back many good racing/riding memories. It is a hell of a lot of fun to ride your mountain bike through the rain, just watch out for those tree stumps because they get slick...real fast.

So many soccer games were played in the rain. Those were the best! Mainly due to the fact that by the end you were mostly covered in mud...and it gave you an even better reason to slide-tackle someone. Many games were played in the rain, some lost and some won, but every moment of them was enjoyable.

I am a lover of rainy days, clouds, and thunderstorms. Those are my serenity.

There is No Peace Without Forgiveness

They say you change a lot through your 20's. It should be a time to be selfish, figure out who you are, what you stand for, and who it is that you want to be.

My twenties so far have been a ride! Not that I am really that far into them, but boy have I changed, and for the better. I continue to grow and learn more about myself every day. Life is definitely a journey, one that is very much worth the ride...even with the potholes and bumps that we may sometimes seem to hit.

I've learned a lot about myself especially in the last two years. There is nothing spectacular about them, just major life changes that forced me to look deep inside my soul and ask myself who it is that I wanted to become. The person that I want to embody on a day-to-day basis, and the morals and beliefs that I want to stand behind.

Something that I have struggled with for years is forgiveness. There are certain people who have done things that I can immediately forgive and forget, and then with others with which I can't let go of the hurt. I don't like this and it is something that I try to improve upon every day.

Not many people know about the neglected/broken/[insert whatever phrase you'd like here] relationship with my father. In fact, many times in the past I have denied even having one. I know some of you will read this and immediately judge me for terminating that bond. There's a backstory, believe me. That decision that I made almost 5 years ago is a decision that I have had to live with. I am not a person who harbors hate, in fact I try to show love to everyone...even though I'm not the best at it sometimes.

This hate that I have held inside me for almost 15 years has helped develop me as a person, it has changed my outlook on things, and even the view of myself. How can a person who cares so much for others have so much hate for one man? This is a question that I have often asked myself, I have even sought the advice of others, and it all comes down to one thing...you must have the strength within you to forgive.

Forgiveness is a weird thing to me. In my mind it meant that I was condoning the act that hurt me. This is not the case, and it took A LOT of soul searching to be able to come to that conclusion. Just because I forgive someone does not in any way mean that I am saying what they did was okay, but  that I have decided to understand the fact that they are human and they messed up, just as I have done plenty of times. Where would this world be if there were absolutely no forgiveness? We'd be in a hell of a lot of trouble, that's where we'd be.

As I have gotten older I have begun to understand that fact. We are all simple, not perfect people just trying to make it through each day the best way that we know how. Sometimes things don't work out the way we wanted or intended and someone gets hurt in the process. It's hard as a child, especially a little girl, to not put her daddy up on a pedestal. To believe that he is the greatest person to walk this earth and that he is in fact a hero. Something like that is hard to live up to as a person and I'm sure as a parent. I was shattered the day my father left. It left me with a feeling of emptiness and the feeling of being completely and utterly "not wanted." This is a feeling that I have buried inside of me for a long time. A feeling that I still fight with today. A feeling of regret for allowing myself to feel like that, and even more so, a feeling of anger towards myself that I have allowed myself to hold onto that much hatred.

I am one who is easily inspired...I happened to come across this quote a few weeks ago and it has stuck with me ever since.

"Forgiveness is not always easy. At times, it feels more painful that the wound we suffered, to forgive the one that inflicted it. And yet, there is no peace without forgiveness."

- Marianne Williamson

 

With that quote swirling around in my head, I wrote a letter. A letter to my father. A letter that explained to him that I finally understood that he was human, just like me, and that he made a lot of mistakes and so had I. Mistakes that he would have to live with, and for the sake of my own mental health that I needed him to know that I forgave him.

 

I have written many letters to him over the years. They sit folded up at the bottom of a box in my closet. I have never had the courage, nor the strength to send them. Because like I said earlier, in my mind to forgive was to condone.

 

This was the first letter that was written, sealed, and then mailed. Upon dropping the letter in the mailbox it was as if ten tons had been lifted off my shoulders, weight that had been slowly suffocating me for years, I just hadn't noticed. I can only hope that this helps my heart hurt a little less and allows me to be a better person to the people I encounter along this journey we call "life."

Oklahoma and Honduras - A Majestic Vacation

It has been ABSOLUTELY too long since I posted last. No excuse. It's been awhile since I have filled you in on the "happenings" of life, so here we go...

Summer is coming to an end, which is unfortunate because I feel like it just only got started. My tan is looking superb this year and I am ready to hit the beach! Organic chemistry is over, thank god. A class that has haunted my mind for far too long.

As soon as class was over I hit the road. Oklahoma being my first stop. Of course I had to meet up with Kurt! We played laser tag, which I got annihilated at, went out for GF pizza, and of course we got a CrossFit workout in. I don't know if I have ever in my life had so much fun pretending to prepare for the zombie apocalypse while getting shot to "video game" death by children all under the age of 7. Oh, and one "big kid" who just happened to work his way onto the "Day's Highest Scores" List. Two hours of straight sweaty, child scaring, James Bond attack-mode tactics fun, and so much laughter. After we'd had our fair share of laser beams and fake fog for the day we headed out for some GF pizza! Yum. Perfect comfort food after running around a building for multiple hours on end. Ha, but probably not the best idea before a CrossFit workout, but delicious non the less.

He's WAY better at laser tag than I am, but what a great time!
Tweedle-dee & Tweddle-dumb in action!

The past couple of weeks have been craziness, but in a good way! After the end of my summer class I decided to take a spur of the moment trip to Honduras to visit my friend Flore! It was a great trip. 10 days in paradise was exactly what I needed. I helped out at the bilingual school she teaches at, I broke my nose falling off the jungle gym, and we laughed more than I can ever remember. Her brother got married while I was there. Right on the beach. Que bonita! It was a great ceremony and day. We danced well into the night, and because the humidity is ridiculously high down there I sweated through my dress. Literally all the way. I couldn't have asked for a better time!

 

Throughout the week a lot of time was spent at the bilingual school with little munchkins trying to help them learn English. What fun experience, even though stressful at times. Language barriers are a pain. Ha.

Someone got a hold of the camera...

These kids were awesome! Also seemed to love the fact I had blond hair. Haha.

 My last weekend there we decided to take a trip to one of the islands off the coast of Honduras, Utila. It's only about 5 x 8 miles and there are no cars allowed, only golf carts, four wheelers, and scooters. We barely made the ferry, it was like a scene out of a movie. Three girls sprinting after a boat pulling away from the dock...and then jumping onto it. Not even kidding, that's how it happened. It was once of the most exhilarating/terrifying experiences of my life. What a riot! My two friends barely made it, they had chosen to wear their sandals and those are a little harder to sprint in. After about an hour ferry ride we made it to the island. It was beautiful. Every where you look is white sand and water. We laid out on the beach, explored the town, and went snorkeling (even with my immense fear of sharks). 

I didn't venture too far from this spot the entire trip.

Beautiful sunset from my beach chair. 

 

Stephanie, Flore, and I on the beach. 

 



What a great trip! Cannot wait to go back. I'll save my update on grad school for another post! Until then, stay cool friends, stay cool.

XTERRA Eureka Springs - Rekindling of a Spirit

The past year of my life has been a roller coaster of trials and tribulations, with more downs than up. I do not want this to sound like I am complaining, just sharing another part of my journey. It ranged from the loss of a sport from my life due to injury, my mom getting diagnosed with cancer, and the daily grind that they call school.

This past weekend was XTERRA Eureka Springs. If you haven't been to these trails you need to go, whether on foot or bike. This place is beautiful, serene, and where myself as a racer and a rider was always at peace. The trails are some of the most technical that I have ever ridden, kind of weird when you think about all the trails out there. Lots of rocks and overhangs, tree roots, switchbacks, drop, and of course everyone's favorite...climbing!

This race for me was my home away from home (don't tell my Utah friends that), so coming back this year not as a racer, but a volunteer was something that I was looking forward to. I camped out in a trailer, rode jet skis, got lost trying to find my aid station, and rocked out to a boom box while directing bike traffic.

As much fun as I had volunteering I felt something that I haven't felt in a long time, the itch to ride. I haven't ridden my bike in over a year, the injury that I suffered was something that took me a long. stinking. time. to come to grips with. I didn't want to look at my bike, I wanted nothing to do with triathlon or bike riding. I was so angry, at who I don't know, the world I suppose. Being back out on my "home course" this weekend was something that I think I needed, I feel like my spirit has been rekindled. I can't wait to get on my bike and ride and ride and ride. I feel like I did when I bought my first mountain bike, a giddy little kid who just wants to ride for hours upon hours. Thankfully I think that was something that I needed, the little part that was missing that I could never pin down, just riding for fun is something that I lost sight of. I sold my garmin, own no watch, so the freedom of time is on my side.

The race this year got taken over by Cne' Breaux and Kevin Ruehle. Let me tell you, do they know how to put on one hell of a race! The course layout was changed from the previous years, integrating climbing and technicality that wasn't as daunting to newer riders. I only wish I could've been out there on a bike! The course set-up also allowed the racers to be more visible to the spectators, with the riders coming through the transition/finish line area four times. Whew did we have some screamin' and cow-bell ringin' going on!

The run course was changed slightly, along with the bike course allowing more visitors who were unfamiliar with the Eureka Springs territory to get a taste of what we have to offer in the Ozarks. Post race there was BBQ and a live band.

As I looked out from behind the food table and gazed around all I could see were smiles and people laughing, couples dancing to the music, and families/friends laughing and sharing their race stories over BBQ. That is everything that XTERRA is about; coming together for a common love, perhaps a little suffering in between, but non the less a great time.

I think that Cne' and Kevin did a kick-butt fantabulous job as newbie race directors, can't wait to hear what they are already brainstorming for next year...

My Crossfit Story

I love to hear the stories of people’s lives. It makes me feel like I have been a part of something in their life or that I am important enough for them to share. I love seeing the way people light up when they speak of different things, an interest, a lover, or a funny childhood memory. I have many stories of my own; this particular one is my Crossfit story.

I started Crossfit just under 6 months ago, boy does time fly. I remember my first encounter with a WOD (workout of the day), it was 5 pull-ups, 10 pushups, and 15 air squats; as many rounds as possible in 5 minutes. When it was over I was lying on the ground gasping for air, at that moment I knew it was for me. It doesn’t take me long to get hooked on things. Soccer took me all of a day to fall in love, triathlon took a little longer, about a week, but Crossfit took me all of 3 and a half minutes.

I have spoken of my first month at the box and the impression it made, the way I felt I had changed, and the goals that I had already met. The people are what truly make the experience. There is something reassuring about suffering through something together, somehow it seems easier to accomplish.

Crossfit has forced me to confront issues I never thought I would deal with.  We live in a society where “thin is in”, I unfortunately fell prey to this during high school and the first few years of college. We are taught as young girls that you must look a certain way, have certain hair, and lead a specific life to be considered beautiful, which is something that I have struggled with for many years. The thing that Crossfit has taught me is that my body is beautiful and pretty damn powerful. Never in my LIFE did I think that I would be able to deadlift 240 lbs! In all honesty, I never really wanted to. My body is not something that should be punished with starvation diets or silly cleanses, but a machine that needs to be well fueled; a perspective that I have never had.

My Crossfit box has done more for me mentally than anything else. Yes, I have gained significant amounts of strength and power, but being able to overcome my mental hurdles is something that means more to me than anything else. As a personal trainer I am supposed to be proud of my body and the work that I have put into it, going to Crossfit has allowed me to do that.

Crossfit has shown me that strength is beautiful, throwing weights is awesome, and there is power in community.

I love my Crossfit family and the things that they have taught me.

Summertime = Progress

It's that time again. The sun is out, the trees are blooming, and pineapple whip season is in full swing. Summertime is finally upon us. The semester is over with and I couldn't be happier. I'm looking forward to a summer full of too much sun and some major working out.

A lot has happened since my last blog so let me fill you in! Got my acceptance letter to MSU's Cell & Molecular Biology Masters Program, am uber stoked about that. I will start classes in the fall, but will spend the summer learning lab techniques and how to play with the mice. My brother and his best friend moved in...that I am still getting used to. Ha. Have decided to take a summer class just to make sure I stay busy and don't spend all of my free time playing around at the Rec, as much as I love this place.

Oh! Couple things I did forget to mention...an update on my Crossfit journey. That could not be going any better. I am making PR's left and right. I got my max OH Squat to 95 lbs, 240 lbs on Deadlift, and 175 lbs on Squat! Holy freaking crap. Was FINALLY able to master a handstand against a wall last week, couldn't get a push-up out of it, but that day I'm sure isn't far away. I even got my one real pull-up! (Yes I had 2 male witnesses) New Year's Resolution completed! How many people can say that? Didn't think I'd be saying that this year. It is amazing the transformation in my body that I can see and feel. I feel myself getting stronger every day and the results I see in the mirror aren't too shabby either.

That is all the new news that I have to report, so until then friends, stay cool.

A Farewell to The Nieces - Alumni Weekend

University of the Ozarks is a small quaint school that sits atop a hill in Clarksville, AR. The school is the size of a small high school (if that) and is full of vibrant eccentric professors and students alike. It was a school that I would have never pictured that I would chose, but I followed my love for soccer and that landed me smack dab on the campus of Ozarks.

I spent four years at that place, four years in which I grew as a person, developed values and discipline, learned to stand up for what I believe in, and found out what it really means to "burn the midnight oil." This school changed me and I can contribute the person/student that I am today to this place and the individuals who inhabit the campus. Speaking of individuals, let me go off onto a tangent.

The Nieces. Enough said right there. All you have to do is say their name to anyone who has ever stepped foot on the Campus of U of O and you get an instantaneous reaction. Their face will light up and no doubt they have a story to tell. Dr. Rick Niece and his wife Sheree are the President and First Lady of this University and have been for about the last fifteen years. I have never in my life been made to feel so welcome and loved, especially at school. The Nieces have always refereed to any student as their children and wow, do that back that statement up. From Super-Bowl parties, Christmas cookie bakes, to showing up when someone is particular, I will not name names (myself), wrecked her car on campus. They are at every game, every play, and almost every single event that takes place on campus. I spent four years of my life getting to know this amazing couple and even to this day I cannot get over their generosity and commitment to every student that has entered their home on the campus of U of O.

This year will be the last year that the Nieces reside at 415 N. College Ave. It's is time for retirement I suppose, I mean those two young birds have at least another 20 - 30 years of running this school. They are the reason why I went back for my alumni weekend, one last chance to give them both a hug and express my gratitude for everything they have done for me. I will be forever grateful to Dr. Niece and Sheree, for the lessons they taught me, along with the love they showed me, you can't put a price on that.

This alumni weekend was one that will not soon be forgotten. I have never been one who looks forward to reunions or alumni get-togethers, I don't even feel old enough to call myself an alum. But this one was different. I am amazed that I even got to go, I had been looking forward to this one, when ALL of my plans fell through. I had no where to stay, was going to have to make the drive alone and then I got a phone call late at night from none other than, Hydro and Kurt explaining that not coming was out of the question and that I had a place to stay. These two are a riot and so much fun! I forgot how much I've missed them.

I drove down to C'ville Friday night, met up with the science majors and our beloved professor Dr. C for dinner and trips down memory lane. It was like no time had passed, so many laughs! I can't even tell you the number of times I heard "hey! remember when...". Then onto the guys' house.

A night of catching up, laughing, and talking. I still can't believe it has been two years since I saw everyone, and since I had been back for a visit. 5:30 am is the time I finally went to bed. Let's just say trying to get up for my alumni game was not the easiest thing. Ha. I heard Kurt's alarm going off from the living room and decided that I should finally drag myself out of bed. Three snoozes later and I finally snuck out the backdoor and moseyed over to the soccer fields.

I was NOT in anyway prepared for this game. My fitness is mediocre at best, I haven't played a real game since I graduated...two years of no soccer and then a full-time match, ahhh. I made it ten minutes in and was gasping for air. Getting old sucks. I even got to the point during the game that I wouldn't chase people, so instead I would hit them. Shoulder nudge, heel clips, jersey pulls, tripping. I've still got that skill. Ha. That game was brutal on the body, I'm still sore from it, but it was great to be back with the girls I played with.

After the game, ate lunch with some old pals, saw the Nieces and was able to catch up, which was amazing! Watched the men's alumni game, went out for snow cones, and spent the rest of the night hanging out...and eating far too much ice cream.

This weekend was amazing! I could not have asked for a better time with better friends. I just wish it hadn't have been so short. I am so thankful for the people I have in my life, and I will do better to keep in touch with people. Going back to Ozarks was like going home. My heart is full and my smile is huge. Oh how I've missed it.

Crossfit Crazed

How do you know if someone does Crossfit?
-Because they talk about it all the damn time.

I should apologize to my friends as I am becoming one of those crazed Crossfit addicts. I decided to join a local Crossfit recently to help propel myself back into the world of exercise, may sound weird coming from someone who trains/coaches for a living. Nonetheless I decided that it was time to end my depressed, six-month hiataus that had led me down a road to weak arms and "chicken legs." (NEVER in my life has someone said this to me, when they did I didn't know whether to take it as a compliment or insult). I decided that I needed something to be a part of again, without racing I kind of felt lost and I thought joining other people who seemed to be as crazed as I could be would be a great idea!

I found a "box" as they are called that I decided I would be calling home and I was hooked before I even set my foot in the door. I walked in, not really knowing what to expect, I guess I should have. I've seen those Crossfit games where the contestants have muscles bulging out of their earlobes...and here was no different. I looked around and everyone was built! Shoulders, legs, arms, abs...and in that moment I wanted to run, run away screaming like a scared child. What the hell had I decided to sign-up for?

We (being the other frightened souls who had decided to give it a try) were warmly greeted by the owner's wife. We were taken through the ideology, their view on things such as form, workouts, and even welcoming the people, like myself, who were defiantly out of shape. We were then taken through a "mini" workout, of course my over-competitive nature and drive to win kicked in and I was bound and determined to "win" this thing...even though there is no winning! Ha. In the six minutes that it took me to complete the workout I was gasping for air, dripping sweat, and cursing myself for letting my fitness get that bad, but no turning back.

It has been almost a month since I joined. The very first week I could barely walk, had to lean over to brush my teeth, and I'm pretty sure at one point I took a nap on the floor because I couldn't get up. I still have yet to learn anyone's name, except for the same trainer who leads the morning sessions. But one thing that I have noticed is that no matter whether you finish first or last people are cheering you on, pushing you to do better. The cheers ALWAYS get louder for the last person who is finishing up. Now if that doesn't scream family or community to you then I don't know what does. I even had a fellow Crossfitter (I don't know his name) pause in the middle of his workout to come over and explain to me where the barbell needed to be placed for cleans, front lunges, etc. helping me to get better results (and not pop the bar up into my face or end up dropping it on my femur). So thank you to whoever you are.

I feel like I am beginning to be a part of something again. Although I can't do a muscle-up or toes to bar, or even lift as much weight as I used to, I am still accepted into their community. I notice and feel myself getting stronger every day, and I can see those abs lines starting to appear! Just in time for Spring Break...which I will spend working, but who cares.

They don't lie when they say that Crossfit is an addictive cult atmosphere, but I'd say it's a positive one helping people to only better their lives.

The End of What Was

It’s 11:45pm on New Year’s Eve. The Bourne Ultimatum is on pause on the  TV in the background and my phone is buzzing non-stop with “Happy New Year” texts. I’ve been reflecting all day on the events of 2012. Thinking back, many of them I would like to forget. This year has seen more tears than smiles, heard more cries than laughs, and has been one of utter heartbreak.

In case you haven’t noticed, that is for the few who actually read my blog, I’ve been MIA for the last few months, okay like several months. This blog was supposed to be about my journey as an athlete, an off-road triathlete, one who was going to go places and do great things. The training, the racing, the competition and everything that comes along with that. It was a blog to take you (anyone interested in reading) along on the journey with me. I’ve been MIA because I am no longer a triathlete, no longer a mountain biker, and no longer an athlete.

Too many crazy stunts and perhaps too much carelessness lead me to being diagnosed with post-concussive syndrome, as one doctor put it or a TBI (traumatic brain injury), according to another…such ugly words aren’t they? Either way you word it, it still means exactly the same thing. No more biking. Not exactly what a 23 year-old aspiring XTERRA Champion wants to hear, and with that my racing/riding career was over. Almost as quickly as the day it started [This is the first time that I have been able to type/say this out loud without bursting into tears]. I lost a major part of myself the day that my doctor told me that I needed to decide what I wanted out of life. I chose for the sake of my health, that my brain was more important. Luckily my injury is mild, I forget things easier than I used too and if I read something – forget it. I won’t really be able to tell you much what it’s about. Might not sound like a big deal to you, but it’s a huge game changer for me. I’ve been super hesitant to share this with anyone because I don’t want anyone’s pity, sympathy, or judgments. But I am a strong enough person to overcome this and to thrive with it. I think I’ve finally come to a point where I’m okay to share this now. It is now a part of who I am and it makes me ME, so I better start embracing it.

An event like this makes you question a lot of things, like decisions that were made, sacrifices, relationships and friendships that were missed out on. I keep coming back to the question, was it worth it? And my honest to God answer most days is “YES it was worth it.” Through racing I was blessed with so many friends, amazing experiences, and I got to race/ride in some of the most beautiful places I have ever seen. While my “career” wasn’t as long as I had hoped for, I finally decided it was time to stop mourning the loss of it and celebrate what I got to enjoy from it. For it was when I was on my bike that was when I was truly my happiest.

I’m not going to lie and say that I have 100% accepted what has happened. I still cry myself to sleep some nights and I still find my attention being drawn to a passing cyclist, or my longing to have the wind and dust in my face going down a descent. That is a part of me that I am not quite willing to give up yet, a part of me that might just always be there.

Right now I am just Jess. I have no identifier or title. Merely a culmination of my past experiences stitched together to give you the person that I am today.

A person whose role has changed from athlete to cheerleader (we need to find a new title for this – I can’t picture myself as such…”superfan”maybe? I mean, I do own a cape for goodness sake) to support my friends. A person who loves what she does, training and beating the ever-living crap out of people, only to make them into stronger athletes (I get a little too much joy out of this…but it’s for the client’s benefit. I PROMISE).  A person who cares too much about people and wants to help everyone. I try to play it off like I don’t care sometimes, but I do. Ha. A person who is over the moon to hopefully be starting grad school next summer…that way I can learn how to even more accurately beat up on my athletes (I’m sure they are just elated about that, if you didn’t catch the sarcasm in that…you should’ve). And a person who is slowly but surely finding her way back to the big man upstairs and embracing the woman who she is becoming.