Only getting younger...

It has been sometime since I’ve written a blog.. too long really. There isn’t much to blame it on except my own lack of prioritizing. I could also blame it on Game of Thrones and Breaking Bad (seriously!).

Today is my birthday, 32 to be exact, I figured it’s as good as any to write a blog. I’m sure I’ve written on past birthdays, as I do find them to be a fairly reflective day. A chance to sit and look at what my life holds, what has transpired over the last year, what I hope for the coming year, and who I see myself being as this age thing unfolds.

So if you have no desire to know such things about me, you don’t have to keep reading. 

Unless you’re my mom, then it’s obligatory.

I’ll be honest, I definitely struggle with the thought of getting older. It’s not appealing. That being said, I know that I’m not even really ‘old’. But I’m older. Older than I was 10 years ago, than 5 years ago, older than last year. Yet, when I think about this past year, even when I think about turning 30 and the shift that occurred then, what these last two years have held.

I feel anything but old. 

If anything, I feel like I’m 23, with the brains and confidence of a 32 year old. Sure, I see new lines and facial definitions (wrinkles) when I look in the mirror these days. But I also see dramatic changes physically in the rest of my body that weren’t there when I was 23. The muscle and strength that has been developed, that I have worked hard for, shows. 

That, my friends, only makes me feel younger. 

How has that been developed you ask? Crossfit. Of course, if you are a close friend, family member, Facebook friend, you already know my passion for this crazy lifestyle. I apologize because you’re probably dead tired of hearing me talk about it. But, it’s my birthday, and you’re reading my blog, so you have to listen, again. 

A true test to the personal changes I’ve experienced over this past year came about on Monday, when I had to follow through on a birthday tradition of wearing a weighted vest while completing a workout. The thought of doing this has had me terrified since the first time I learned of the punishment. The person I was a year ago would have shrunk away, avoided (which I did last year!) and generally ignored (refused) to participate because it was stupid. Who wants to put on an extra 35lbs and THEN work out?! Ya, ok! 

This year was different. This year I felt terrified, but excitement at the same time. I knew it would be awful, but I also knew I could do it. In that moment, I realized... my perception of myself has changed, and that is huge. 

So, I did it. I completed a tough workout (which included burpees, running, and weights) with 35lbs strapped to my chest. 

I lived. 

The most ridiculous part? I’d do it again. 

Next year.

*photo was taken mere seconds after I tore off the vest and collapsed. Jude, my son and crossfit side-kick, right by my side (with his t-rex), supporting my recovery.