I’m back Baby…

At the time of writing, my quads are on fire.  The very act of sitting down causes me to yelp like a wounded hound, and sitting on the toilet involves curse words my mother would disapprove of.

Every part of me aches.

It feels amazing.

I have trained, at my new CrossFit box, for three days in a row. I have squatted more in those three days then I have in the last couple of months.  My joints are in agony and my soul is flying.

You see, for the last few months, even my obsession has become a chore.

I see now I am here, how right this move was for me, and for my family.

Now I have hindsight, I can see how truly tough I have found the last few months.

From January, from Owen’s operation, life became like a kettlebell round my neck, slowly pulling me into the ground, sucking my personality out of me.

It wasn’t just the operation, on its own that would have been fine.  It was the operation, combined with the daily fight against Molly’s sugar gremlin, it was the final stages of divorce, the endless arguments with the ex, it was getting the flu, then knackering my shoulder, it was watching my bank balance nose dive each month and staring at a rented home with no future.  It was everything and nothing, but blimey, it was hard.

For someone else it may not have even been a shadow on their day, but one thing I have come to realise is you need to accept your own limitations and see the cap on your strength and deal with it, rather than hide away.

That time has left it scars, strange ones that you wouldn’t expect.  I feel I lost a month of my life when I took anti depressants, that as the GP said, simply numbed my drive and left me hollow.  My waistline is twice its normal size.  That has not helped the gloom.

But you know what.

Fuck it.

I got sad and I ate.

I got sad and I ate and I stopped training.

There are worse things I could have done.

I can lose weight, I can get fit, fitter than I was before.

But only when I am happy.

I think I’m there.

The pains in my leg confirm it.  Every morning I have got out of bed and winced, then put on my gym kit and trained for an hour.   I have not even thought to not go.

Not going has been all I have thought about recently.

To not even let that whisper of sadness trickle into my brain feels amazing.

My life seems to finally be in order.  The walls that surround me are mine, I pay for them, I own them.  The spare tyre on my waist is a reminder that I have come through hard times and like memories, that will fade.  My kids seem happy, they have friends and family.  I miss my southern friends so much, but that is the only bit of life I would change.

I am CrossFitting again, and loving every second.

For those of you who speak CrossFit, tomorrow’s work out is Fran, twice, with three 400m runs before, after and in the middle.

I am not even contemplating not going.

I’m back baby!