We are all fucking crazy.

Some times I wonder what it's like to be my coach. Or even my training partner. The gym is the one place I rarely, if ever, filter my personality. I will yell at you. I will cry, on occasion. I will get crazy ideas. I will give you dirty looks when you criticize me. I will tell you I hate you. And that can be all in one day. Last night I hated my workout. I hit pads for the first time since probably my fight in June and it felt like it. Then I did my S&C which was full of lunges, probably my least favorite thing. Every lunge in my wod was a struggle. It hurt. It took everything I had not to quit on every single lunge. I was so mad when I finished. I hated everything. And so I texted my crossfit coach and told him I hated crossfit and his workouts. His response: Life just isn't fair. Good thing he knows I'm crazy and just brushes me off. I tell him all the time, all women are fucking crazy. That's the only explanation. So today I was over my crossfit temper tantrum and asked for another workout. Or when I get hair brained ideas about my training and attempt to talk to all my coaches at 10:30 at night.

It's a wonder people still put up with me.

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Untitled

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Coach Kirstin

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