And I am Partially CareFree

Oh my word, I smell so good…but I didn’t start out this way. Today has been a long, long day. I told myself that I was going to get Christmas shopping/wrapping done early this year but here it is 11 pm on Christmas Eve and I have just wrapped my last gift…except for the one I am going to wrap in the morning (but I am done, almost). I started off making myself to go yet another Crossfit class. I actually went online to see what the details for the workout of the day were going to be to decide if I was going to go or not. I won’t Ambien you with the details but for the overview, it read that this to be the “12 Days of Christmas” workout. It was basically all centering around picking up a barbell and doing something with it. We were to do one exercise for one rep, then the next exercise we did for two reps, the next for three, etc. Ok, I read all this and the last one was twelve reps of something painful and heavy, but I added it all up and it totaled 78 lifts. 78 barbell lifts in different versions. I’m not very good at those but I needed to burn off some Christmas cheer and pre-burn a couple of upcoming Christmas dinners; so I went.


When the instructor (Pit Beagle) started the class he explained what we were going to do. I had completely misunderstood the whole thing. Just like the song, we had to start all over after each exercise. Yep, we couldn’t move on to the fourth exercise without first going back and doing one of one, two of two, etc. Holy cow! I just stood there feeling my mind blur. It was more than I could grasp and I only took basic algebra in college so I couldn’t do the math in my head (and I am not even exactly sure how to do it on a calculator). I kept looking at the board and trying to add it up until I figured it was just best to go into it blindly, keep going until I couldn’t go any more and at some point, I would get cut off because it would be time to lock up and go home.

There was an athletic looking girl in front of me so I figured I would just copy her and try to keep up with her pace and copy her moves. It was somewhere around “four calling birds” that she flew off and left me in the dust. I was taking a breather, one of many, and when I started back she was working her way down the Christmas list. Somewhere around “6 Geese a laying” everything started taking on new meaning. I was doing everything in halves and I could hear the song in my head. “Geese a laying” became, “Jesus I’m praying” and from there:


7 Swans a Swimming - 7 Kwanza shimmies

8 Maids a Milking - 8 Made me do these

9 Ladies Dancing - 9 Laid my weights down

10 Lords a leaping - 10 Lord I’m leaving

11 Pipers Piping - 11 Joints a Popping

12 Drummers Drumming - 12 I hear angels humming



The only other thing I remember is always coming back to, “And I’m partially carefree” (I have no idea what that meant). Somewhere around “10 lords a leaping” and my “Oh Lord, I’m leaving” chant, I started to just walk out the door. Everyone was panting and moaning and taking breathing breaks (except for the girl in front of me, she was finished) and I don’t think anyone would have noticed that I was gone. It was so tempting. I took a quick look around the room and saw that I wasn’t the only one in there that looked like they were waiting on Lifeflight, so I decided to just keep going until someone sent me home…or until I finished....finished a broken man. Well that thing lasted 35-45 minutes at least. It was the longest, worst thing I have ever intentionally put myself through in my life. To be perfectly honest, I think I might have missed a round as there were still some people working after I was finished. Somewhere near the end, Pit Beagle walked by, looked at me and said, “Mark, you’re getting bigger”…best Christmas present ever!

When I climbed back into my car, red-faced, soaking wet and sounding asthmatic, I started thinking about that title: 12 Days of Christmas. No, no way...not unless it was written by the Grinch. I would have named this routine “How the Grinch Stole Christmas” because I am pretty sure you can’t really “do Christmas” while in traction or with a dislocated…body.


As I drove away from the torture chamber I tried to focus (and breathe) on the tasks at hand to make sure this day before Christmas went off as planned and that I didn’t get behind. I headed straight to my last two things on my shopping list. On the way I noticed that something in my car smelled…bad. I started thinking about it as I couldn’t identify the scent and the only thing I could think of was last Thursday’s chili run with Crockzilla in the back floorboard. I started thinking that maybe today’s warmer wet weather was bringing out the worst of some spilled chili. I pulled the car over to check. I had put the rubber floor mats in the back and I didn’t notice a spill, but I went ahead and put the floor mat in the trunk anyway. I got back into the car but the smell came back strong. I couldn’t figure out what in the world it could have been unless it was coming from the outside. I rolled the windows down and that helped which meant that it wasn’t coming from the outside. When I rolled them back up, the smell came back. Then it hit me….could it be me? No…I am not a smelly guy…am I? Yep, it was me…I was, at best, offensive. I couldn’t believe it! I think I had run out of water and had started sweating my liver. I know what liver smells like when it is cooking and this was pretty close to that. I was at the intersection where my normal, non-torture gym is located so I decided to just stay on track, run inside and take a quick shower because I just really didn’t want to run all over town as “skunk boy” and I was also afraid my car might never be the same.


The good news is that I had just the night before been given a new bottle of body wash from a friend of mine as a Christmas countdown gift; so I got to try it out. It has almond oil and shea butter and smelled like something yummy cooking in a bakery. By the time I was finished and covered with my secret weapon (world’s best smelling body lotion), I smelled delicious. I am not sure that should be the goal in a locker room but that’s what happened.

I got to my first little store and the cashier asked me, “Have you been eating Snickerdoodles? You smell like Snickerdoodles.” I told her that I had not but that I had new body wash. She asked, “They make Snickerdoodle body wash? I love Snickerdoodles!” I had to break the news to her that this was a layered thing, that I had a secret weapon and that I needed to pay and be on my way.


As I drove on to my next destination, smelling delicious, I once again noticed that the endorphins were running high and that my back and knees has zero, zero pain. I think it also had something to do with getting the blood racing all through the body. I was pain free and energized…and scented like a Snickerdoodle. I knew that the soreness was going to set in and that I would be moving on Christmas like the Tin Man on a rainy day. By the end of the day I had spent all my money plus a little bit more but I was still smelling good. I was Po-Perry.


All I know is that now, many hours have passed, this day is done, the gifts (minus one) are all wrapped, I only smell fresh and clean and rigor mortis is setting in. I think starting the day off the way I did put me into the Christmas spirit. I will confess that I usually get caught up in the secular Christmas and it is all about Santa, the tree, the gifts, etc. Today was different. This morning during my “hour of power” I thought about and called upon Baby Jesus many times. I was just praying that I got through it and that I didn’t do any permanent damage to myself, or finish after all the girls. So I guess, in a way, this morning was a bit of a religious experience and it caused me to focus on the real reason for the season. Who knew that muttering, “Sweet Baby Jesus just help me get through this” on Christmas Eve, would help a person rethink and refocus their Christmas? I am even thinking about celebrating His first miracle! After all, it is Christmas.

Merry Christmas Everybody!

And the sun will rise painting the sky
The birds will sing and dance through the air
The clouds will move and the grass will sway
It will start off as an ordinary day.
 
Then the earth will move and shake
The mountains will sink and the oceans rise
Muscle and beauty will forge into one
All will turn to gray beneath a blood soaked sun.
 
With one last heave and one last quiver
The earth will shutter like a horse after a race
All will be spent and all will be gone
The Indians were right all along.
                    
                                                       Mayan Angelou

Thinking Outside the Box

I went to the new Dollar General Store tonight over by one of my favorite Mexican restaurants. Thank goodness they built this one because the other three are at least two miles away. I went in to buy some more body wash, as my Strawberry Shortcake wash is about to run out. It was just like every other DG that I have every been to: packed shelves, a long checkout  line and a slow cashier. It was nice and new and I made my way over to the body wash section and they had it all on shelves behind plastic doors. They weren’t locked or anything but you had to lift the door up to get it to the soap (kind of like a Mexican bakery). The odd thing was that every time I lifted up the door, a loud, store-wide doorbell went off. At first I thought it was an alarm but nobody came running over. I looked around and waited for a teen manager to come over and give me the stink eye but it never happened, so I just kept on shopping/sniffing. I made sure to check each one out carefully this time to make sure they didn’t have a girly name or any kind of “cooling sensation”, and to make sure it smelled good.

I flipped open a bunch and by the end I had over-inhaled and couldn’t smell a thing. Each time I had to put one back and get another, the loud doorbell would go off. It was ridiculous and they had them behind four different doors. I had to have huffed at least ten bottles. When I finally made my choice (triple moisture something or other) I made my way up to get in the rush hour traffic cashier’s line. I couldn’t help but ask the cashier what the deal was with the doorbell. This is how smoothly that conversation went down:

Me: So, what’s the deal with the doorbell going off every time I opened the case to get out the body wash?
Cashier: That’s to let us know when someone is trying to steal something.
Me: Body Wash?
Cashier: Yeah, peoples might try to steal it.
Me: Hmm, I would have thought people might try to steal electronics, like those different kinds of chargers, or maybe batteries, cassettes or things that might fit into your pockets…maybe even candy or something more expensive like shampoo or conditioner.
Cashier: Them alarms is what lets us know if someone is going to steal something.
Me: But it’s just on the bottles of body wash…
Cashier: Yeah
Me: ...I thought that sounded like an alarm.
Cashier: Yeah, it let’s us know if somebody is going to steal something.
Me: ….(didn’t she just say that?) I wondered if someone was going to come back there and watch me pick out my soap, haha…….
Cashier:…..
Me: So, y’all have a problem with people trying to steal these big, heavy bottles of body wash?
Cashier: No, cause we’ve got alarms on them and that lets us know if somebody is trying to steal them.
Me: …but it seems like…ummmm, I mean…..a smaller thing would in your pocket…or maybe something more expensive....

It was at that point that I realized I was trying to reason with a fern and that I was fighting a losing battle, so I just told her “thank you” and went on my way. I drove off completely amused by the Fort Knox treatment of their body wash and then it hit me. It was all my fault. People have been reading my posts! That’s what this was all about. The time I used the soap with the “cooling sensation” and I tingled in all the wrong places and my latest Strawberry Shortcake episode, it was all making sense. The word has been getting around, people have been “sharing” and now people are flocking to the stores to get the coveted scented body wash. Heavily scented body wash is the new “Tickle Me Elmo”. I’ve caused a rush; body wash has gone viral and now it has to be surrounded by a Plexiglas case and an alarm. It was a proud moment for me just to bask in the knowledge  that I am finally making a difference. I am making things happen; I am moving and shaking. I’m mixing it up...I am outside of the box...and I am thinking.

I hope this doesn’t cross over into other areas of my life and start making things more difficult. I hope Julia’s Bakery doesn’t have to start putting their fudge pie behind a glass…..oh my gosh!...OMG…this just got legit!  I can’t…somehow I hadn’t even made the connection…a room full of big, protective, glass cases just for deserts…wow…the power of the pen. Now that I think about it, my gym had to knock down a wall and expand because of overcrowding. They also refer to the Crossfit gym as "the box"...oh my gosh...there's that word again.  I am thinking outside the box...coincidence?...I don't think so! Have I become the Mark Zuckerberg of the "make it a fad...make it a must-have" world? I think I might need to step back and take a few days off to think about this. I am no predictor of the future but here's a little insider trading tip for you. If I were you and I needed a crock-pot, I would go ahead and get one because pretty soon I am going to be creating a little slow-cooker magic and I doubt I will be able to keep quite about it. I'm going to have to be careful what I write about in the future. I may even have to close down this page.  I guess I should pass on a little advice here; do as I say and not as I do: Choose your words carefully people…..words have consequences…yeah.

WTJ

Where do I begin? I somehow managed to overdo it yesterday on my lack-of-sleep Monday and I think I must have walked twenty miles during the course of the day (not joke). I also went way too long without eating. I got that brain fog that comes with no blood sugar and by the end of the day, I was completely shot. This morning I expected to get up energized and ready to take on the day but something was wrong. My batteries had been in their charger but I don’t think the charger was plugged in. All I can say is that I have felt “puny” all day…just weak and puny.

I had already made the commitment that I was going to go to Crossfit tonight. I am not sure why I kept that commitment; I don’t know what I was thinking. Two words that do not belong together are “puny” and “Crossfit”. For some unknown, delusional reason (probably the blood sugar thing) I thought that a good grueling class would pull me out of my funk. My decision making skills need honing.

I hurried to class after a quick eating contest with my dad at Jason’s Deli (I won) and just kept telling myself that a good workout was what I needed. I also did a mental prayer that this class wasn’t going to be one of those crazy ones where the owner goes all  “Full Metal Jacket” on us. I didn’t pray hard enough.

I got there and Pit Beagle was standing at the entrance to greet me with his usual “Hello old man” and that made me nervous thinking that maybe he had made up the routine and was teaching the class. I am pretty sure…no, I am positive that he came up with the routine but his wife, G. I. Jenn, was teaching the class, whew, she has empathy. We warmed up and as always, I was sweating when we were finished. I looked up at the message board and read the WOD (work out of the day) and the very first thing was “handstand push-ups”. I looked at it….I knew it couldn’t really mean what it sounded like…I looked at it again (it still read the same) and I had to go inquire. I asked G.I. Jenn what in the world a handstand push-up REALLY was. She had me come over to a wall to watch. She faced the wall and then put her hands down and flipped up in to a handstand and had her feet touching the wall overhead. She then proceeded to lower her body down until her head almost touched the floor and pushed herself back up again……………….???????mmm… seriously…mmm…soooo…uuuhh…yeah. They really were just like they sounded. Handstand push-ups…I prefer to call them “how to dislocate both shoulders and fracture you neck in one simple step-ups”. I just looked at her and asked, “So what is my version going to be?” I knew instantly that for me,  handstand push-up were not happening tonight…or in my lifetime…ever…never ever ever…like ever (thank you Taylor Swift for those words of inspiration).

It took some thought and she quickly changed gears into “handi-land” and figured out what it was that I could do. She took me over to a secluded wall (thank you empathy button) and got down on the floor like she was going to do a push-up. The bottoms of her feet were up against the wall. Suddenly, she started walking her hands backwards and her feet walked up and climbed the wall until she was in a handstand position and then she walked back down. I wanted to clap when she was done as it was a bit of a Ringling Brother’s moment for me but she ruined my flashback with a question, “So, do you want to try that… now?” I know that I need to practice saying the word “no” but I haven’t done that yet and somehow a very reluctant “yes?” came out of my mouth. What was I thinking? I might as well have been jumping out of a plane because this scared the begeebees out of me. Let me just tell you right now that hoisting my gluteus extramaximus over my head is no small feat.

I did a practice run and when I was as high as I could emotionally take it, my hands were still probably a good two to three feet from the wall. I looked like I was in an earthquake; I was shaking all over. The funny thing is that there were people sitting along that wall by me, still reeling from the previous class. They watched me do my wall climb with all the steadiness of a newborn giraffe taking is first steps and they immediately got up and moved away. One guy said, “Don’t worry about it; we all had to start somewhere.” Nice.

G.I.Jenn saw how hard it was for me (and how long it took me to hoist it all up in the air) and decided that I just had to do this three times to match the ten handstand pushups everyone else was doing. I am not really sure if there is a name for what I was doing or not. I know what I call it: “Walking to Jesus” (because it scared the hell out of me).

Even though I felt like I was straight up and down when I got to the end of my Walking to Jesus’, I know I was far from being in that position. I have a feeling that I looked like I was playing some odd version of “London Bridge”. Also, as mentioned, I am not a naked guy. I hadn’t thought about it but the first thing that happened when I flipped upside down was my shirt flew down over my head. The good part to that is that since I was upside down, my ET body got to fall back into place while flashing. I’m wearing a onesie and sweatpants next class.

The countdown started and I reviewed the list. Here is what we were to do:
10 handstand push-ups (or for me, 3 WTJ’s)
20 pull-ups (assisted ones for me)
30 push-ups (best done in set of 10, trust me on this one)
40 kettlebell swings up over our heads (that’s a 30 pounder for me)
800 meter row (finally I got to sit down)
 Repeat (no rinse)

HO-LEE-COW!!!!!  ARE YOU KIDDING ME!!!

 The time started and we were off! I as out of oxygen in the first 30 seconds and I did my second set of things out of order. It wasn’t until just know that I realize I did and extra set of WTJ’s. I did that thing three times! Anyway, everyone was so far ahead of me that it was ridiculous but because of the fast pace you really don’t have time to pay attention to anyone else… I hope. When I was finished I could not even stand up straight and it was all that I could do to breathe. I couldn’t even shout out “Time!” so that it could be written up on the board. I put my kettlebell away and walked up to the front to get my keys. All the men were gone; the women were getting into their cars and I think I heard the sound of the owner’s keys jingle as it was time to lock up. This was not a stellar night for me.

That was over four hours ago and it feels like I just left. I will say that right now, my “puny feeling” is gone and I feel back to normal.  I am pretty sure that I don’t ever want to repeat tonight’s performance. It was sooooo far out of my comfort zone on so many levels. On the other hand, it didn’t kill me, I am not in the ER, and I wasn’t asked to never come back. Those are all good things right? Oh yeah, I also feel a little closer to Jesus as I talked to Him more tonight than I have in a long time.