Reconstructing Pukie

I've never barfed during or after any workout since beginning Crossfit or otherwise. That's not to say that I don't work hard. I'm proud of my 3:18 Fran and once in a while I'll record the top score on the whiteboard of my local box. And while I've brought many friends to puke after a met-con, I've never ralphed, even trying to keep up with the early-tweny-something-firebreathers. Whenever I look at that crude crossfit clown, doubled over and yacking, I'm reminded of a different purge.

Of the times I’ve barfed because of sickness or some sort of poisoning, I’ve always felt better after purging my stomach of whatever was ailing me. In fact, compared to the feeling of needing to ralph, the feeling directly after releasing the demons, is an almost euphoric physical enlightenment. Somehow though, this image of the clown is so offensive and I love it.

I’ve never barfed during or after a workout, but Crossfit healthfully forces us to purge our systems of all the trash that we’ve learned about our physical selves in the past however many decades. Within that cartoon stream of green bile expelled is all the misinformation we’ve been fed by any number of sources: your high school weights teacher, “Squatting too deep will hurt your knees.” or your doctor, “Deadlifting will ruin your back.” or your running addicted friend “Running long distances is the best way to get into shape.” your body building friend, “You need cable machines to work out.” or vogue “Skinny is healthy.” and the entire fitness industry that sold me the most worthless idea of all, crunches and whatever machinery they could think of to help me do crunches.

Sure, pukie represents intensity, but Crossfit serves to cleanse us of the dishonest or misguided and potentially oppressive information about nutrition, movement, and health. That process is abrupt and violent and offensive like the scene of Pukie the Clown’s depiction, but it is good and necessary and liberating.  

Eat this tasty dish!!!

These photos are in backwards order, but whatever. 1/2 onion, 1 green bell pepper, bacon, sausage 3 eggs per dish. Cut up the onions and peppers however you want. Cook the crap outta the onions and peppers. Don't just 'carmelize' them, make them Carmel. Cook the meat. Fork whip the eggs. Put all the stuff in the eggs. Bake it all until it looks edible. KABLAM! EAT IT SON! on a side note, the seasonings in the sausage and the caramelized onions replaced the need to add salt to this dish. I usually add a crap ton of salt to my eggs, so this dish is health factor 7.

Annual blog post

Welp, I am officially the worst blogger in the history of blogging!

This is what has been happening in my life since last year's blog post, or at least everything that I can think of on a Sunday evening sitting next to my lovely wife.

A. Marriage is so good! I honestly love MacLarin more every day. What did I do to deserve such an amazing woman? Literally nothing, and yet she adores me. All I do is hug her and kiss her and and talk to her and pray with her and cook her tasty food. Maybe that's it--the secret  to a good marriage. When I say I don't know why she adores me, I don't mean it in a self loathing sort of way though; trust me, I'm a very handsome and funny man with a job. MacLarin is simply one if the best humans...even on her worst day. 

B. We're opening a gym. The pipe-dream has been upgraded to project status and we're saving our pennies. We have a long term savings plan and we're doing the damn thing. It's fun and scary and challenging, but it's so real. Whether we're successful or complete failures, we cannot lose in the grand scheme of life. Thus far we've learned so much about ourselves through what little process we've gone through, none of which are lesson's that we've never heard before. What a crazy notion right? Things like, "you think you need it, but you really just want it." And "God answers prayers." 

C. I really love moving my body. Yep, I'm obsessed and really do not care to say it. There are definitely harmful obsessions rooted in poor self perceptions that result in exercise addiction and eating disorders, but I am simply fascinated with discovering how God crafted my physical body. Our bodies can are simply amazing. They adapt and heal. We convert food into energy. Many people would argue that our lives are short, but considering the abuse we put our bodies through, we are resilient beyond belief. I could go on and on, but it's bedtime. (Sleep is one of our most amazing functions, but I'll save that for another post)