You ever get the feeling that you’re just cruising along, a passenger in Life’s vehicle, when all of a sudden the dog in the back seat decides to have a bout of explosive diarrhea? (This is my life, guys. I couldn’t contrive that analogy if I tried.)
Maybe that analogy was a bit strong. Believe you me, it was a bit strong while I was in the front seat. My life isn’t as awful as explosive diarrhea; It’s just that Life has been crazy chaotic lately. And you haven’t experienced CRAZY ChAotIc until you’ve experienced your dog crapping your back seat while you’re on a road trip.
But enough of the dog, let’s talk about me. (Narcissist!) For starters, I traded in my camera and workout clothes for slacks and collared shirts. Then I polished up a resume, applied for a job at a Fortune 500 corporation (I know what you’re thinking: “gasp! she’s a sell out”), completed 6 rounds of interviews over a 4-month period, completed 8 weeks of training and I’M STILL RUNNING AROUND LIKE A BLOODY CHICKEN WITH MY HEAD CUT OFF.
Well, bust out the deep fryer.
The fact of the matter is, I’m STILL (yes, still!) trying to get my bearings in a new place with a new dog which I’m convinced has rabies, while working a very new job. And so it became very apparent very soon that these new changes could not support CrossFitting 6 days a week, sometimes twice a day. I’m not an elite CrossFitter, nor do I desire to be one. I incorporate CrossFit to support my other interests like trail running, mountain biking, backpacking, hiking. So, like Life, my blog will also be transitioning to include more explosive diarrhea… and also mountain biking, trail running, and my other outdoor adventures. I still WOD in our garage gym and have DIY Box Jump plans for you! (Is this working? Are you convinced you should still read this blog despite that it’s been collecting a hefty layer of cyber dust?)
So bear with me as I calm the eff down and re-establish a solid routine. Right now I’m just trying to make sure I even eat throughout the day which, believe me, is a challenge when Life is like a headless chicken with explosive diarrhea. I can’t eat! I can’t poop! I’m so stressed!
And, for the record, when chickens get their heads cut off they really do run around like a hot mess for a second. I know this because when I was young, my grandfather raised chickens and my grandmother gardened vegetables. Does that sound Paleo or what??!