Me and Meg

What does that mean? It means I am doing Crossfit. If you do not know what Crossfit is, I"ll sum it up for you: you go to a industrial building in a part of town you have never been before, where coaches instruct you on how to punish the s-h-i-t out of your body. After a week you are left with arms that will not straighten past ninety degrees and a bladder that is constantly full because you can not make the painful journey down to the toilet seat; which is absolutely lower than it normally is. It is torture. To get a more detailed idea of what Crossfit is, check out this site: Hill Country Crossfit ( 

So why am I doing it? As usual it's Leigh's fault. Let me take you back a few years.... When I was maybe eleven years old, Leigh started working out. I remember her walking down to the clubhouse to workout (at the time we lived on a golf course and there was a little fitness centre). Now, I can not recall if Leigh always had sculpted toned arms or if her ambitious fifteen year old self pumped enough iron to develop them. The point is, her arms are amazing. Around sixteen years old, I started going to the gym with her; I had no choice. What was I going to do, be the chubby younger sister? I dabbled a little in that role, with my McChicken eating and sweatshirt wearing ways. But, ultimately I knew it wasn't the life for me. Off I went to the gym with Leigh and really learned anything I knew about fitness from her. For a solid fifteen years Leigh has been waking me up to go running - when we were younger she would barge into my room and wake me, now she BBMs me until I respond. 

Annoying? Yes. Am I thankful I have a sister who is committed to physical fitness and has dragged me along with her? Double yes. She is my motivation. So, here we are today. For the past three years I have been working out in my dungeon of a basement, hopping over transformers and stepping on blocks - it has been treacherous and unvaried. A year and a half ago Leigh and I started The Tracy Anderson Method, which we have both really enjoyed. However, I am bored. I am so over working out at home, alone, in the damp, darkness of my tiny dungeon. I need a change.I need some interaction. So I have put Tracy on hold and have FINALLY agreed to my husband's suggestion to join Crossfit. And I love it. I love being with people, I love having someone tell me what to do. I love doing workouts that last only fifteen minutes; I love getting my a-s-s kicked. 

Last week we did a five minute workout. Yes it was hard and crazy, but it was only five minutes. Luckily, entering into my third week of training, my T-Rex arms have subsided and the toilet is back to it's normal height. Summer is around the corner, if you are struggling with your fitness regime and are prepared to suffer, I highly recommend you check out your local Crossfit. At least for awhile. Plus, Ryan likes it, and he might be back this way come September for TIFF. This time, I'll be ready.

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