spryng | (no subject)

At first I just wanted to get into an exercise routine. Do something that would have me moving two or three times a week. Anything to get out of my funk not doing much besides going to work, walking around on my lunch break, and sleeping. I tried running, but I just don't enjoy running. I never have. I don't think I ever will, although I'm going to be stubborn and keep trying.

Then when I got into a routine, I changed my goal to losing all the fat I'd gained while doing nothing but the aforementioned sitting around for six months. I flailed around for some sort of diet program, went low-carb and low calorie and was miserable for a few weeks. I'd been hearing about paleo through the crossfit grapevine but I was way skeptical. Setting your diet by what we supposedly ate thousands of years ago just seemed stupid. But I decided to try the more restricted version for thirty days to see how it went.

It went awesome. I lost ten pounds and a visible layer of fat. For the first time in, well, ever, I'm not concerned about my weight. I don't care how many calories I eat a day. I can think about taco bell and ice cream and not want either. I've settled into a diet that I can see myself maintaining for quite a long time.

If I lose more weight through all the crossfit and diet, great. But that's no longer my focus, which, frankly, feels kind of weird. Instead, my focus has shifted to building muscle. I want to be buff. I've been passing this link around all weekend (and creepily keeping a tab of it open in my browser) because that's me.

Not literally, of course. But that before picture - those could be my thighs, my belly, my arms. I also did the elliptical crap and the calorie restrictions and lost weight but, ultimately, got nowhere. I ate whatever crap I wanted, as long as it all added up to less than 1200 calories. Which was, frankly, ignorant of me.

I'm not where she is now - not by a long shot. But I've also fallen in love with the barbell. There's just something... amazing and powerful about lifting a shit ton of weight. About creeping up the total pounds each time you lift, if only a little at a time. About getting the form right. About bumping up the weight by ten or twenty pounds with a little jump or thrust. About hitting the third rep and knowing, absolutely knowing there's no way you can complete all ten, and doing it anyway. One by one, rep by rep, legs shaking, arms now aching, now numb. Then you're at the last one and you can't figure out if you physically can't, or mentally can't. And you try anyway and you do it or you don't, but it's worth it either way.

My name is Kai, and I am in love with the barbell.

I didn't think I could ever find a sport I enjoyed. I failed at everything, all the time. And hell, I've only just hit a measly 100 pounds with my deadlift, but I love it. Love love love.

So where was I going with this? Oh yes. So I want to be buff. Which means I am actually looking to gain weight (omg scary word!). The right kind of weight, of course. Which means, instead of restricting, I have to eat more. And do a ton of research on exactly how. All of which (sans the researching) is terrifying. I never ever thought I'd want to do this, but I love that barbell. And I want to deadlift my body weight.