My February was not an awesome display of things gone right. My Feb actually sucked. In February, I sliced my fingertip so it was hanging on by a sliver of skin, my grandmother died and we didn’t get to travel to see her, I averaged four hours of sleep a night (I’m a nine hour person), I realized I was living off of coffee and energy drinks, paleobaby started climbing, and I really missed my husband (REALLY). I’m glad it is over and we’re well into March. First, March is a great month because good people are born in March (namely – me). Second, March is when St Patty’s day is and Americans get to bastardize another country’s holiday. I love watch as people use this one day out of the entire year to suddenly proclaim their pride of being Irish. Although, I’m fairly certain real Irish people are proud to be Irish on a days also not related to St Patrick’s day. Good ol’ March.
I would love to get caught up in griping about how horrible a month February was for me, but that's not entirely blogworthy L As the guys here move into Mustache March, I move into the Crossfit Open time. I told myself this time would be for fun. I’m having a hard time with that. I have no time to train, no time to fuel correctly, and have thrown recovery out the window. I’m fit, but far from competition ready. It’s been challenging to just do a workout and be happy I did it. Today, I looked at my score for 13.1. It’s not the best. It’s not what I wanted. I hate that feeling of falling short. I’m not sure where I could have saved time. I was pretty beat down at the end so I’m not sure where I could have pushed it more. I just have a feeling that I could have done something to get a better score. That DID make me happy. I’d rather be perplexed at that instead of being angry that I was too cautious or too afraid to push the intensity.
Going through this I realize there are things I could have done to improve my score. Things like sleeping and eating. Things I know aren’t going to be coming my way for awhile. When I got home from the gym after doing 13.1, paleobaby decided he really didn't need a nap…for the rest of the day. He finally got to bed and I was in the middle of chores thinking about doing 13.1 on Sunday. I looked at the clock. It was 0330. I have no right to think such things after being up that long and still having some time to go. By the time I woke up, thoughts of doing 13.1 again were gone. I may not have the just-be-happy-with-it mentality, but at least I can call my own BS in times of need.