CrossFit Doesn’t Work

It doesn’t. 

I got a message from an acquaintance a few days ago in which she expressly told me that CrossFit doesn’t work. It just doesn’t.

Her message went something like this:
“I was so inspired by you and all the stories you share that I decided to try CrossFit out. I found a Groupon and did the first month. It was so hard and I was so sore. I was hurting all the time–Aislinn, I could barely walk. I went once a week and nothing even changed for me. I’m not any closer to looking like any of the girls on TV. I don’t know how it works for everyone else, but CrossFit just doesn’t work for me.”

I wanted to scream. 
And yell.
And throw all of the things.

But I didn’t. I responded: 
“I’m really sorry to hear that it didn’t work out for you. Sometimes, CrossFit isn’t for everyone. I hope you find something that you’ll enjoy better and maybe one day, you’ll head on back to a box.”

Honestly, I wanted to punch the shit out of her because she was so wrong. I mean, hello, I am a walking testament to the fact that this crap WORKS.


And then I realized, she’s right.
CrossFit doesn’t work.

I don’t know how many times I have to say this but being fit is not freakin’ easy. I always refer back to what Coach Lauren said to me the very first day I tried CrossFit: “if you come once a week, you’re gonna look like you come once a week. 

Girls like Camille and Julie don’t just happen. They didn’t wake up like that (sorry, Beyonce). They take the time to train everyday, multiple times a day. They take the time to analyze eating for performance and be athletes. 
Hell, those of us who aren’t elite still don’t just wake up and say “oh, I think I’ll look like a crossfit athlete today!”

Anyone who really knows me knows that I didn’t just faith away 30 pounds, okay? I worked REAL hard and worked my ass off (literally) and I’m STILL working on it. 
It is never, ever easy. And it really shouldn’t be.
Because if you’re getting better everyday, you’re supposed to be finding your limits to surpass them.

So you could join some box somewhere and just half ass some workouts every blue moon, but you sure as shit can’t get better if you’re only trying things out every once in awhile. 

So my friend is right.
Crossfit doesn’t work…
…unless you do. 

Comfortable, juicy peaches

Being comfortable in your own skin.
This was a topic that a friend of mine encouraged me to write about last week (two weeks ago? I don’t know. My days are blurring together).

I want to be able to write that everyone should just find the beauty in the thigh dimples, the wrinkles, and the love handles. I want to write that you shouldn’t care about anything and you should just be you and that’s beautiful enough. That’s comfortable enough.

But I can’t. 
Because I don’t live that life everyday. 
Because sometimes, that shit sucks!

Some days, I’m okay with cellulite on my thigh and a sometimes muffin top. Other days, I’m not. Most days, I’m totally okay that I’m halfway to 30. Other days I have a panic attack about it. Some nights, I put on my little black dress and nobody can tell me I’m not gawwwwwgeous. Other nights, I put it on and think, “nah. Let me stay in and wear my sweatpants, this dress is doing nothing for me.” 
I have bad hair days. 
I have bad face days.
I have days where nothing fits.
I have days where everything fits, I just hate the way it looks. 
I have days when slipping into the right pair of Chucks makes me feel beautiful.
Some days I’m Ariel, other days I’m Ursula.

Most days I just feel like I don’t fit into anyone’s standard of beauty.

But Dita Von Teese said once, that “you can be the ripest, juiciest peach in the world and there’s still going to be someone that hates peaches.”

hey, girl.

I think that since I started this journey to being a healthier person, it’s helped me realize that I may not like everything about my body. What I like and don’t like will change day to week to month.
But this journey has helped me take hold of those things and embrace them. To feel comfortable with the little things. To impress myself with the ordinary and astound myself with the extraordinary.

I can toss a 65 pound kid over my head.
I can carry all my groceries into the house–at one time.
I may not be able to find jeans that fit my ass, but I can fill out a bodycon dress with my lovely lady lumps.
I have discovered a new line of workwear called: gym clothing chic.
I realized that I’m funny.
I have good friends that get me.
I’m smart. And pretty nerdy. And that’s kind of cool, too.
I have flaws–and I can accept them (finally!)

Yeah, they’re there. But affirming all the good qualities I have makes the bad ones not so glaring and I’m learning that I don’t have to hide them. They are what they are and I am who I am.

And maybe that’s the key to being comfortable: is finding a way to not be uncomfortable. 

After all, this is your body. It’s the only one you get and you’re in it for kind of a long time. Better get used to it. The world will try to tell you to be self-conscious. To worry about the “rules” of beauty and to be the perfect model of whatever everyone thinks beauty is. But people who follow rules are quickly forgotten…but those who break the rules, those are the people we remember. 

Be a rule-breaker. 
Wear white after labor day.
Be your own beautiful. 
Be remembered as a person who was unapologetically comfortable in their own skin and if you don’t like something, change it for y-o-u.

Be your own peach.