There's NO way I'm not bleeding...

I will start this pseudo rant with a warning: I just made a shake and it did NOT turn out as awesome as I wanted it to be.  I am drinking it anyways because it has all of the things I need to ingest right now but I'm far from happy about it.  ALSO...I just ran a 5k all out in nature and stuff so I'm sweaty and dirty and sitting in my leather man chair.  Lets manifest a guess as to what the sweat stain that is to be left on the seat of my favorite piece of furniture when I stand up will resemble...only if it is a perfect replica of Joe Manganiello will I not be upset.

So I fell off the side of the earth not too long ago.  It turns out when you move north for a better job opportunity and better income they actually EXPECT you to earn it.  Here I thought I could just get by on my quick wit and tall stature (I'm told that's why I was hired).  I haven't had a day off in several weeks and I honestly couldn't tell you what day today is much less what I did on Saturday. 

That being said many aspects of my life have suffered.  My laundry is now a 5-1 ratio of dirty to clean, there is something in my trash that requires the attention of Baltimore County Homicide, I have been using toilet paper as paper towels,  I am almost positive I have built up an adequate immunity to both salmonella and trichinosis and MOST importantly I have GREATLY allowed my physical training  to spiral downward...you're welcome America...anything ELSE you want me to sacrifice for the betterment of your fighting forces? (for the record I do love my job but don't tell anyone)

I decided yesterday that enough was enough.  I would no longer stand by and watch my traps disintegrate...this aggression against myself would no longer be tolerated.  It would instead be replaced with pure unadulterated bad ideas of things to do with weights and ropes and bars and stuff.  I thought about it.  I thought about things I hate.  I thought about democrats, and  dead lifts and nickleback, ochra and double unders and rowing and came up with this ridiculous idea:

row 1k - 185# DL X12 - 15 pull-ups - 25 DU's
row 1 k - 200# DL X 10 - 15 PU - 25 DU's
row 1 k - 225# DL X 10 - 15 PU - 25 DU's
row 1K - 285# DL X 6 - 15 PU - 25 DU's
row 1K - 300# DL X 2 - 15 PU - 25 DU's

now usually...and those who are the kind of people who write down workouts and carry them on whatever random piece of paper they had available to the gym to transfer them onto a white board, can attest to this.  NORMALLY they never look all that hard on paper.  take the infamous "Fran" for example.  21-15-9 thrusters and pull ups.  Easy enough how can something that takes up less than half of a line of paper hurt.  Well as those who know know...she's a whore.  MY POINT: EVEN ON PAPER THIS LOOKED WHORE-ID.  I knew when I kept putting off starting that I was going to need Jesus or Joe Manganiello to finish this (just Google his images you'll understand).  About half way through my third 1k row I started to taste what in my head I was convinced was blood.  In my head my voice went something like this "holy-shit-youre-actually-internally-bleeding-to-the-point-that-its-seeping-up-into-your-mouth-and-you-are-swallowing-it-to-re-mix-back-with-the-blood-that-is-seeping-out-of-where-ever-you-are-bleeding-from-interanlly-you-shoudl-really-call-for-help-or-call-your-sister-she-is-a-nurse-or-something-in-the-ER-maybe-she-can-get-you-in-quicker-so-you-dont-rupture-anything-else-you-are-really-bleeding-internally-i-can-taste-it"

People didn't check on me which was disheartening but I guess by now they know better.  I have done some dumb things at Globo The Remix so nice to know they are finally used to it but still...a little concern is ok sometimes, especially if my face reflects that of someone whose  liver just fell out of their butt.

Best Served EFFING Cold

So I know a lot of stuff...a lot of random stuff.  I know things like the full name of Los Angeles is " El Pueblo de Nuestra Senora La Reina de Los Angeles de Porciuncula",  I know that dolphins don't sleep, I know how to drive stick, I know how build an antenna out of copper wire, a soda can, a board and some nails,  I know all the dialog to both "Steel Magnolias" and "The Big Lebowski"  ( I didn't say that the things I know are all that useful) and I know how to take apart and reassemble and M-16 A2 service rifle with or without and M-203 Grenade launcher attachment.  In line with what I know, I ALSO do NOT know many MANY things.  I don't know exactly where Idaho is located, I don't know how to forge steel or what the "whip" does in the senate, I don't know how to spell chrysanthimum, I don't know  where my black TR skinny jeans are or what size tires go on my car. 

Of all the things that I know and don't know, There were a few that came into play this weekend.  I, in true Katya form, enlisted to participate in The World's Toughest Mudder about two weeks ago after some pirates got me drunk and stole my common sense.  I KNEW I wasn't prepared, I KNEW it was going to be cold, I KNEW it was not going to be licked on by kittens.  I did NOT know how unprepared I was (yes I did I kept saying it), I did NOT know HOW cold it was going to be (yes I did it is December...there is a lake involved) and I CERTAINLY did not know the many splendid virtues of a little thing commonly referred to as a wet suit (fact).

I GUESS I think I'm just too far removed from any real discomfort that can be brought on by elements.  I have been tanning, against the orders of the II MEF commander,  in The Middle East, so I have been really hot and slightly sun poisoned.  I have slid down the sides of mountains donned in frozen hoodies so I THOUGHT I had been cold.  I have literally almost drowned at the hands of one very large Radio Recon MCWIS instructor so I have been terrified in and of water.  All of these things can go ahead and eff themselves because they all got trumped. 

I'm not going to bore you with the inane details of the obstacles and the rules of this race...far better writers have illustrated these things and there is a website that can walk you step by step through what was required of all the participants.  So.. if you care...go look it up I'm not doing all the leg work here I ran the flipping thing you can make SOME effort.  I WILL however, choose to bore you with the equally inane (BOOM that's twice and I'm not positive what that word means) details of what the hell I went through...see I've been gone for a while you all forgot how self involved I am, and you forgot my affinity for run-on sentences crudely lacking in punctuation of ANY kind.

The majority of time spent on this course was spent wet.  Mud is wet, the ground was wet, Ice is wet-ish, metal gets wet, somehow wood was wet and yes...water is wet.  It's funny to me that I thought that some lulu Wunder Unders, a run swiftly tank, and run swiftly long sleeved t-shirt and a marmot zip up would keep me dry and warm...I mean duh they have wicking isn't that what wicking does?  Even funnier is my total and complete disregard for recommendations for gear MADE by the people who designed the course.  Hey, you there, maybe you wanna GET A TENT, GET A SLEEPING BAG, GET A WET SUIT.  Who me NAAAAAA I'm good.

The first lap I was spending 20+ minutes in a warming tent SIMPLY because I had to low crawl in a puddle or seven.  I HADN'T even GOTTEN to the "water section yet".  LET me tell you...there is nothing more completely whore-id than having to fully submerge yourself in 29 degree water after getting to slowly walk step by step deeper.  Oh wait I'm lying there IS something worse.  DOING IT AGAIN.  I have never felt that kind of cold before.  When I say I could feel nothing below my neck I mean NOTHING below my neck.  I KNEW things were there...I kept checking but I had NO feeling.  I got up to the "walk the plank" or as I lovingly call it "Go F*** Yourself" the chick manning the obstacle reached out and "snapped" my very fancy and kinda expensive compression pants and exclaimed "You're not wearing a wet suit" to which I replied "No...no I'm not".  God bless her she was so supportive.  She told me over and over I could do it and I was almost done and counted me down to jump several times, but MAN I wanted to punch her in the neck and tell her that its hard and honestly, almost physically impossible to throw yourself off of a 30 ft platform knowing EXACTLY what it was waiting for you...kind of like how your body just WON'T let you bite yourself until you bleed (go ahead I will wait while the majority of you try...whose smart now).  The body kind of really has this built in self preservation thing going on and will do everything it can to stop you from hurting yourself...like induce terror and common sense...neither of which unfortunately are stronger than stupid pride and sense of accomplishment but whatever.

Time for reflection gents.  Most of you who know me know that I do my best to find silver linings in most situations that are less than perfect.  OBVIOUSLY this situation was less than perfect.  I underestimated an event, thought myself a slight demi-god apparently, and in return for my insolence against the race gods, I got hypothermia and my ass handed to me.  SO my happy ending, 1. I now know what hypothermia feels like...it's a LOT like being drunk.  2.  I am not impervious to mother nature.  No one is.  We take rain for granted until it decides to remind us that it is in fact a reckoning force that can devastate entire nations.  I took rain lightly and it annihilated me...only not rain cold..you know what I mean try to keep up.  I don't presume to be some great athlete, by now I think that has been made avidly clear.  This race reminded me that I'm far from able to accomplish all unknowns.  There are things that will be thrown in my direct opposition for which I will have no answer,  for that I am grateful.  I find a great many things out about myself when I don't do as I expect.  Humility is a fantastic training tool.

End note:  Don't be fooled...it APPEARS I am smiling in most of the race pics but that's just the face I had to make so I wouldn't bite my tongue.

End End note: Hypothermia is a fantastic abs workout...look into it...OK don't really but yea ...do.

Uhhh.....What?

" I was heading over to that bar but you got to it first.  I was going to see if I could squeeze in some sets in between whatever that was you were doing but I was afraid you would beat me up"

WHAT????? So this is NOT the first time anyone has ever said that to me;  "whoa whoa sorry don't beat me up".  It's on the list with all the other "usual" things I hear and have mentioned before and to which I have become  def;  "you look huge", "you have man traps" ( that one was new thanks Jen Chen), "Have you EVER tried steroids?".  For some reason today I realized that I get the "beat me up" one a lot and I think it's RIDICULOUS.  I'm pretty nice...ask anyone.  I'm ESPECIALLY nice to people at globo gyms as they can come in kind of useful as various genres of resources (where to get my hair cut, good places to go for Mongolian BBQ, where the hell can you buy alcohol in Maryland)

Ask any of the people who ACTUALLY know me in real life...not ONE of them will tell you I have EVER beaten them up and MOST of them (my real life friends) have annoyed or pissed me off at least once.   Hell,  ask my sister.  We have DEFINITELY fought and I have NEVER beaten her up.  Ask ANY of my exes...ask Scott, or John...both exes that I have NEVER beaten up in fact we are still friends.  Geeze  Scott and I are still life besties and he made out with Liz Gibson while we were dating (in 10th grade that's a deal breaker...scratch that at 31 it's still a deal breaker).  So why do strangers think I'm going to beat them up...like it's not funny...it's not flirting.  If we go for the same barbell (I know you are going to be doing curls with it and I want to do OHS...that's annoying) and you go "oh oh sorry woops I don't want to get beat up please be my guest" uh...how about just let me use it cause I'm a lady and its polite.  Or ask if you can work your stupid curls in between my sets of shenanigans.  Is that turn of phrase  something you say in regular life to people? Like...if someone writes a report in your office and didn't use spell check would  you NOT say anything about it but let your cohort know your reasoning is because you are afraid you're going to get beat up? I'm a GIRL and contrary to popular belief apparently, I WAS in fact socialized  with other humans from birth; and aside from the times when it has been both accepted and expected for me to beat people up (Brazilian Jiu Jitsu) I have never beaten any one up...OK OK OK that ONE time in a bar in Jacksonville but that broad hit me first and they tell me I was laughing the whole time.

 Now don't get me wrong.  Sarah, Kim, Jenny, Amanda, and a few others will tell you that when it comes to my friends and the people I love,  I am very territorial and a little mama bear-ish and I have been known to stand up for the pertinent people in my life when I needs to be done BUT I DONT GO AROUND BEATING UP STRANGERS SO STOP SAYING IT TO ME!!!!

And for the record meat-head monster..."whatever I was doing" is called The Bear Complex and yes it makes me lie on the dirty floor  making that face, in lots-o-pain.  Also,  the bicep growers are over there on that girly rack by the mirror...this oly bar is for grownups so go play now...run along.

EFFING PIRATES

It unfortunately occurred to me yesterday that I have spent the last few weeks trotting around as quite the hypocrite.  I drone ON and ON ad-nauseam about how I do races that are SOOOO hard because I don't think about them and I'm so effing stellar at shit that I just SHOW up and run around on mountains without pre-thought.  Man I even annoy myself sometimes...well then there was Worlds Toughest Mudder.  I from the jump said "NO" I said it quite adamantly and quite abrasively refused to even consider it.  To me, it was a dumb idea.  A 24 hour race in the Dirty Jerz in DECEMBER where there is shit like electrified barbed wire strung over ice that you have to low crawl under/across, something called a cerebral something which is basically just " hey get in there it's a pool that is a lovely 40 degrees and we dyed the water purple".  A ten mile loop of all this BS for 24 hours and the winner is whomever does the most...the rest...catch up. 

SO if you know me at ALL, or know me well I guess, you'd know I hate few things.  I hate the abbreviation "lol".  Whenever I read it I hear little japanime girls giggling in my head and it bugs me.  I hate being late and people who are late, I hate driving, I hate when I cook oatmeal in the microwave and it boils over the bowl and I hate....HATE being cold. 

EVERYTHING inside of me is telling me that I do NOT want to do WTM.  It will definitely be cold.  It will DEFINITELY be cold.  It will DEFINITELY be cold.   However,  after a night of vodka, Styrofoam sword fighting and plaid clad Narnian Pirates, with no regard for what I want Josh and Margo The Great tricked me into registering...to the point where I didn't even fill out the form myself I just threw plastic around and allowed things to be charged to my bank account.  It really wasn't until today that I realized that in order to be able to continue to state truthfully that I do dumb things because I at one point I have told myself I couldn't do them...I had to do this event.

 So there ya go...I am registered.  The event is in 3 measly weeks and I am fully and in true Katya form completely and totally unprepared.  I will be amongst friends which is awesome but I'm not at ALL looking forward to it.  I know that most people sign up and they are SO pumped "I'm SO pumped I just want to crush it" yea we all know that ain't my style...I'm a fan of comfort and leisure and flannel sheets and leather man chairs.  I don't like rocks and mud or "the suck". 

SO I shall be in Jersey in a few weeks if anyone needs me to pick anything up.  I have no idea what it's going to be like because I refuse to read anything other than the required gear list and rules.  What's really starting to annoy me is I could have instead bought a pair of Christian Louboutin Miss Clichy pumps (well one of them) inSTEAD of registering for this event...now it's going to be done out of SPITE!!!

FML

You're going Where?

Ever have one of those moments when you realize you're an adult? I have been having a few of those recently.  Take today for example: I was reheating second lunch and I spilled a bowl of green beans and tomatoes on the floor.  For a split second I thought "Meh I'm going to leave that there someone will clean it up.  I really don't feel like dealing with that" then I had a second thought "You live alone Katya, no one is here to clean up after you.  If you leave that there you will get bugs".  So I cleaned it up against my will.  At  that moment I realized...I do things I don't want to... I'm a grown up...I think it's official.

The other thing that had me deciding that I was a grown up was a self realization of the possession of certain character traits that I wasn't positive that I actually had.  Certain very grown up characteristics at that.  They are wherewithal and tenacity.  Simple enough words I suppose but have you ever FELT tenacity? have you ever HAD wherewithal? They are kind of a big deal turns out.

There is a certain level of crazy it takes to decide to ruck from Philadelphia to Washington DC.  I have in the past admittedly been capable of just that type of crazy.  The thing that gets me to sign up and or agree to these events is that I don't ever really think about what they are going to entail.  Much like getting a tattoo or random body parts pierced.  You don't think about the fact that it's going to hurt just that after its done your going to have an awesome permanent tiger on your rib cage!  This is the mentality I went into the USMC ULTRA RUCK ON, hereafter to be referred to as UURO for time and spelling conservation.   Keith approached me with the idea a while ago...long ago enough that I probably didn't really think it would happen as sometimes I am CONVINCED time stops...like on the step mill...time STOPS...anyways so I agreed to it.  I didn't know what I was getting into.

We all met up in Philly this past Sunday.  Half of us were already WASTED face by the time the group was coagulated (yea I decided I could use it in this instance go ahead and try to stop me...it's my blog).  We strolled a few blocks to the commemoration site of Tun Tavern, the birthplace of the Marine Corps, and set off from there on a VERY long walk.  Where we were headed? About 160 miles due north (as the crow flies...not as we ended up walking it) to the Iwo Jima memorial in Washington D.C.  It had never been done and with good reason.  It was not easy.  It was not comfortable.  It was not without hurdles.

We walked.  We walked for 86 hours.  We slept on the side of a highway, in Susquehanna State Park, on the table at a bar, in the sun at Patapsco State park.  We showered no place.  We ate EVERYTHING.  We walked.  We drank beer along the way.  We told stories.  We walked.  We inherited inside jokes "KATYMCCABE", "CHAP UP",  "JUST 1 more click", "NO, we are still in PA",  and more I'm sure that I can't think of right at this moment.  We were delirious.  We were in danger sometimes.  We were egged.  We were supported and rooted for and applauded along the way.  We were encouraged and we were motivated and we walked. 

We put in a lot of work.  We had the thankless support of Phil the whole way.  We didn't thank him enough for what he did and no one will ever truly understand how important a good support crew is unless they have had to completely rely on them.   Keith wasn't thanked enough either.  The logistics of an event like that are daunting and difficult and he pulled it together. 

NO one really knows why we did it except for us and we are all OK with that.  It was crazy but that awesome kind of crazy that people will be impressed by.  That's not what drove anyone.  Everyone had reasons but most were the same to say they had done what no one had done before in commemoration of the birth of an institution that is so very much a part of so many of us...and to in general be bad ass.

It was a good week...my feet will tell you otherwise, my sciatic nerve will agree with my feet.   But, as any of the guys can tell ya ...head phones and Volbeat will keep you moving despite the injuries, and nothing can stop awesome.  Tenacity keeps you moving.  Having the wherewithal to complete something you set out to complete despite every part of your body and mind wanting to stop.  They are good characteristics...just sayin'

Thanks for a good time guys...we you all again next time.

Happy Veterans day.

Grace...not Up in here.

why hello blog how have you been? I have been well thank you for asking.  I know it has been a hot minute since i wrote anything but i have been feeling exceptionally un-funny lately and i didn't want to bore people with subpar humor. 

I would like to let everyone know that I am at this moment sitting in my man chair, eating crab cakes and watching Ravens football...its like the perfect storm minus the Natty Boh and surrendering an unfortunate amount of money to state taxes...I'm home.

So, I'm not entirely sure who to blame or when it happened but as I am sure you have all noticed Zombies are the new Vampire.  They are quite "in" it seems.  Call of Duty, movies, TV shows and now obstacle races.   I participated in the Run for Your Life race this weekend in Darlington.  I dressed like a zombie and chased people around while they tried to arm bar me and poke me in the eye and break my fingers...it was the danger zone for sure and NOT for the runners.  Now...I say "participated" in lieu of "ran" because it turns out as Sarah, Loo and now half of the zombie community now knows...I fall when i run outside.

You know what's worse than falling in the middle of a race where you at the time one of the lead females in your heat?  Falling in the middle of a race where you are one of the lead females while covered in fake blood and rocking a zombie-hawk.  Nothing like making a fool out of yourself while looking rad.  I knew it was bad when the other racers would run by me and see the golf ball knot on my ankle and exclaim "HOLY F*** THATS BROKEN!!!" thanks for the vote of confidence ladies and gents how's about lying to me and telling me I'm pretty and its just a bump.  That's what my REAL friends would do...just saying. 

The ridiculous thing is i fell because I was reading a sign.  That's right I looked over to read a sign that simply read "cold?wet?" and down I went.  It wasn't pretty and it CERTAINLY wans't graceful.  I'd LIKE to think that I run like some kind of elegant gazelle but in reality it more resembles one of those dogs that grew too fast and has no idea how long his legs are or how big his feet have become. I take my eyes off the ground for ONE effing second and look what happens.  I have written a few times about my inherent ability to walk blindly into stationary equipment, walk literally though closed screen doors and on one occasion after my senior prom walking face first into a glass sliding door so hard that i actually woke people up.  I am quite aware that if i stop for ONE moment to look away from the path i am taking disaster will ensue.

So needless to say I cant do a WHOLE lot of anything right now...I'm pretty pissy about it and have chosen to take it out on my satellite training crew out in Washington state (I am taking suggestions for their group name).  They are headed up by my bestie and they are taking the brunt of my hobbling.  I'm pretty sure that after today's WOD they aren't going to talk to me for awhile as Sarah has YET to reply to my last message and that just DOESNT happen.  I will say that I'm ubes proud of all of them and plan on writing about their successes here soon as soon as i get all the deets from them.  Until them I will jstu make super sure that they hate me for about an hour everyday but heart me each morning when they wake up all sexy and stuff. 

She loves me...She loves me not....

So there are a few prices that have to be paid for being considered a TRULY good friend of mine.  Those of you who are in that circle know who you are.  You know about the crazy you know about the dumb ideas and the repeated offenses.  I look at it like national security.  Not EVERYONE knows everything but more so I keep things compartmentalized so that in the case of compromise (tequila)  my whole psychosis is not revealed.  There are a SELECT few who are privy to all the deets...they know who they are and they ain't talkin' so I'm good.

So as I said, the down side to knowing all the drama that is Katya is that you unknowingly agreed to a non disclosure agreement that allows ME to disclose things that you say but not the other way around...sorry it's the rules, you were read in and you signed the indoc paperwork...you're bound...shut your mouth.

That little soliloquy was in its own way my " I'm sorry but you KNEW it was coming and you're about to get called out" to a Ms Sarah Beth Jett and Co.. 

Now as this is MY blog, and we have already covered the cemented fact that I am in fact QUITE self involved, I will play it off as if I am writing about the successes of other people but I will in fact be highlighting  my own bad-assery.  Consider that your warning order.

As you all may or may not know Sarah is my bestie.  We have been through pretty much everything two people can go through together.  We have served our country together.  We have been to war together.  We have loathed one another while being forced to sleep in bunk beds together.  I am proud to say I am the only bridge she has rebuilt and I'm not even sure how we did it.  We got divorced together .  We fall together.  We laugh, she makes me cry, she keeps me still.  She gave birth to my godson.  She is who I am.    ALL that being said I have the esteemed pleasure of causing her immense pain on a daily basis...let me explain.

Sarah had my god son a little over a year ago.  She enlisted my help...uh...eff...how long ago now Sarah??? 6 months? has it been that long yet? Anyways she enlisted my help, we shall say 6 months ago, to help her get back into shape.  OH it's important to mention that Sarah lives in Washington state....on the other side of the country.  I, on a daily basis, respond to the gchat message of "WOD ME BITCH" with some horrible nonsense that I conjure up in my head while  eating almonds at my desk.  USUALLY it is really brutal ...SOMETIMES it's the tiniest bit funsies...MOST of the time she replies with "I hate you so much right now" but ALWAYS it's in her best interests.

It worked.  WHATEVER the hell I tell her to do not only does she complain about it (and get punished for complaining by having to do burpees) but she FINISHES it.  She performs the Katya death WODs at the gym in her office on her lunch break with a few guys who also work with her. 


She reported these results to me:

FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK I deleted it!!!! UGGGGGGGG I will try to gist it.  She MADE me promise I wouldn't blog about it but whatever shut up what are you going to do Sarah DE-friend me...I EFFING dare you.  The gist is:  all her jeans are HUGE on her,  her LULU has gotten baggy.  She hits new PR's weekly.  She is stronger , faster, better and  healthier.  The dude she works out with has lost like 40# and she likes being on top again...BOOM!!!

I'd say all in all EFFING success story.  TO my point: NO I'm NOT really trying to highlight that I'm some amazing trainer coach person despite the fact and she can attest, I have coached her via video chat and really garbled emails on proper form and technique through this whole thing...sending her YouTube videos and trying my best to explain where the bar is SUPPOSED to land on a hang clean...not on your clavicle but on your front delts...But no...I'm not trying to brag.  This shit is possible.  I didn't REALLY DO anything.  She did all the work.  Every ounce of praise goes to her.  SHE did it not me.  She is effing solid proof that  if you want  to accomplish something as EASY as physical transformation...because regardless of what all of you think...it IS fucking easy you just have to WANT it...you are more than able to do just that.  Sarah is a full time mother, full time fiancée, full time employee and full time Katya downward spiral recovery specialist.  Chicks plate is full.  She is running her first 5k obstacle run tomorrow (today) and I couldn't be prouder of what SHE has done. 

I love you Sarah.  I know we don't talk on the phone unless in dire straits or speeding nor do we actually SAY how important we are to one another.  It's one of the things I love best about you you just know.  You JUST know that you are exactly who I want to be when I grow up and you keep me tied together ... all my crazy bits.  Slaughter some slop tomorrow make me prouder if that's possible.

Love,

Katya