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.

The Things I am Thankful For...

While in the midst of going through a hard time in life, I was reminded yesterday to look at the good things. Look at the little things that make life that much better and focus on those.

I know this post is kind of random and weird, but it's cool.

So today these are the things that I am thankful for...

-Friends. Family. A home to live in.
-The friends that put up with my quirkiness, my pain, my sadness, my terrible jokes, and at the end of the day still love me for the werido that I am.
-My Parka. Enough said.
-The opportunity to go to school (one that so graciously will accept my money. Ha)
-The rain and sleet and snow and wind and hail. Oh wait, not all of those have happened yet, but oh how I love love LOVE winter time. :)
-Food. Water. and I cannot leave out Coke Zero and its delicious toxic chemicals that I love.
-Funny movies that make me laugh so hard I cry.
-Dare I say Calculus? And the two boys who put up with my constant question asking, snide remark making, math hating attitude. You guys are helping me learn.
-Freedom.
-Thunder U-11 Soccer Team. These girls are awesome, I love getting to teach a sport I love to the little ones. Their curiosity for the world is infectious.
-The ability to hear, see, touch, feel, and the most important TASTE. Ha.
-Shoes.
-Hoodies (without hoodies, I would not be a normal version of Jess. Let's face it, you know I'm right).
-My adopted family. You know who you are. (your address probably ends with a , UT...no I'm not being biased, those are just some cool peeps out there).
-An iPhone that doesn't seem to break (without this, there would be no contacting the outside world).
-A job...a job that I love, the ability to talk and teach and meet so many new people. As well as help people achieve their goals.
-Music. (Without this I would be lost. I always have my headphones in, I am in my own world with my music).
-Compression Tights. These things are the coolest and I get the weirdest looks when I wear them, must be the cool factor people are jealous of. Ha.
-Professors that teach me AWESOME things. Oh and that listen to me cry... all the time, and are willing to help out in any way that they can. It is because of great professors at MSU and at Ozarks that I have succeeded thus far in my college career.
-Candy-corn (if they sold it year-round, I'd eat it year-round).
-A car that is really pretty freakin' rad. With its multiple bike racks, stickers, and illegally tinted windows there isn't one around that is cooler.
-A bed (one that doesn't get used too much. Insomnia is mean like that.)
-Laughter.
-Exercise Physiology. Because this class is just down right cool. And it allows me to beat-up, I mean make my athletes better.
-Great surgeons. Without them I'd be a mess. Thanks for giving me back the ability to walk!
-Pinterest (because frankly this site makes me laugh...a lot).
-Chocolate
-Rice bars (if you haven't tried them you are missing out! Everyone eats them on the bike, I eat them while lying on the couch).
-Utah. What a fantastic state this is. Mountains. Mountains. Mountains. Did I mention the mountains?
-And if it weren't for challenges in my life, I wouldn't be the strong individual that I am today.

Bike Love

I was asked the other day “why is it that we become so attached to our bikes?”

 Now I can totally relate to this. My bike is my child. I love it/him more than anything. (yes I do realize that my bike is an inanimate object, but I don't care. Ha) I drool every time that I lay my eyes on him and good luck if you think that YOU will ever get to ride him because he is mine. Feel free to ask a certain Dr. Z about the reaction I had when he just hopped right on Donatello (bike’s given name) and took him for a spin…it went something  like this, he got on my bike and before I knew it he was off.  I started yelling/practically had a heart attack while he laughed hysterically and continued to do circles around the parking lot.

 A little over the top? Not in any way, shape, or form according to my book (now my “book” is full of quirky rules. I wrote it so I get to make the rules up as I go along).

But on a serious note…and for those of you who know me, I am not serious too often, but here I will be…

 Bikes can symbolize many things to many different people. I think the thing that I love most about bikes is that there is no age limit. You can be five years old or eighty-five years old and still go out and enjoy the pleasures of a bike ride.

Bikes can takes us places. I don’t only mean as a mode of transportation. But they take us places mentally, emotionally, and yes physically. I have never hated and loved something so much as when I am on my bike (the hate part only being sometimes).

 Bikes help to create so many wonderful memories. Whether you are riding alone or with a group, on a hot day or a cold one, if you got hit by a car or couldn’t unclip. There are memories that are created. Sometimes great wonderful memories and sometimes memories that you wish you could forget. I can't tell you how many stories that I have told that started off with "well I was on my bike when..."

Bikes are so freeing. In my life (yes, I know it has been short) I have never found something so freeing and peaceful as when I am on my bike. For me personally it’s when I’m flying down the side of a mountain, kicking up dust, bouncing over rocks, and coming around switchbacks. That for me is when I am at my most peaceful place (and no, I’m not kidding).

 Bikes never ask for anything in return, they never ask where you were the night before, why you have spent so much time apart or why you missed your early training ride, again. They are always just waiting to be ridden, it doesn’t matter if they have been sitting in the garage for a year or it is has only been a few hours.

 Bikes become a part of our families, if you think that is weird then maybe you haven’t spent enough time with bikes, or maybe I’m weird. Probably both. Ha. The naming of our beloved bikes probably doesn’t help with the attachment issues either. I named mine after a Ninja Turtle, Donatello. If that doesn’t scream tough, I don’t what does. I have friends who have named their bikes after ex-lovers, famous hockey players, idols, curse words, if you can think of it, a bike has been named it.

Bikes are awesome. If you haven’t been on one in awhile and are wanting to get back out there, GO. There should be nothing stopping you. Just look for that bike that’s waiting to be ridden.