A Girl Walks Into A Bar...

Alright... so it wasn't a bar.  It was a wedding.  And really, the heading should be 'Two Girls Walk Into A Wedding in the EXACT SAME DRESS'.  It's like every girls nightmare come true - no one ever wants to be the one who shows up in the same thing as someone else (it's bad enough when you are a bridesmaid and forced to match up to 10 other peeps).  Well... nightmare realized.

A guy friend asked me how my weekend as a bridesmaid was.  Well... it was awesome.
B-squad bridesmaids - just in case you need backups.   

For the record - one of the most annoying things you can do is walk up to a set of girls at a wedding and ask 'do you know that you're wearing the same dress?'.  Nope.  Hadn't noticed.  Unless you see that one of us with a seeing eye dog - it's probably safe to assume that we are aware.

Although it was mildly annoying - there is no one that I would rather match than this girl.  She obviously has great taste.

The wedding was one of my sorority sisters and while I have expounded on the joys of being a Gamma Phi Beta before - let me just do so again.  My life would be drastically different if I had not walked into the house and met these women.

Yes.  We're all wearing green and blue.  It was apparently a Seahawks themed event.
Unbeknownst to the bride and groom of course.  

No matter how much things change - marriage, kids, death, divorce - some things never change.  We're all older and wiser (okay - it's guaranteed that we're older.  Wiser is still up for debate.).  We can still reminisce about the old days - but we know when we've hit our limit (or most of us do - some of us still end up kissing boys outside the wedding.  Me?  Never.  I'm an adult.)  We are there for each other thru thick and thin, that's just how we roll.  It's like a marriage vow - only without the benefits.

Joining a sorority was the best decision that I ever made.  Not just because I can now call myself a sorority girl for the rest of my existence (you are welcome future children!) but because the girls that I met will be stuck with me for the rest of forever.  For. Eh. Ver.  (Just like the Sandlot folks, just like the Sandlot...)

In other news.  I caught the bouquet.  So... stay tuned for updates in that realm.

My Next 30 Years

Today is the last day of my 20s.  Holy crap.  Some things just sneak up on you - and 30 was one of those things.  

There were many things that I thought I'd have figured out by 30.  I thought I'd be married, I thought I'd be well on my way to kids, I thought I'd be well established in my career.  But it's like they say 'Life is what happens when you are busy making other plans'.  Seriously.  Nothing in my life is as I thought it would be on the eve of turning 30.  Even though I'm not where I thought I'd be, it doesn't mean I'm in a bad place.  My 20s included some of the best and worst times of my life, both which will be hard to duplicate in my next 30 years.  Let's recap my 20s, shall we? 

• I graduated from college with some of the best friends and sorority sisters that I could ask for.  I literally couldn't have asked for a more awesome 4 years at Eastern.  It was incredible.  The friends that I made there are my sisters, my best friends, my soul mates - I could not ask for more from them.  The experiences that we had together were/are unforgettable (even the ones that we don't remember).  
• I moved to Seattle.  This was supposed to be a 3-5 year venture.  It's now going on year eight and I can pretty much say that I've made this wet, rainy place my home.  I have made wonderful friends here (Fab 5 + Lisa!) and seriously couldn't imagine a world without them for happy hour, brunch, lunch, cocktails, cocktails, cocktails, and gossip.  
• I fell madly in love.  At 24, I met the love of my young life.  Even though it was touch and go for years (y'all who were around then know exactly what I'm talking about), we pulled through and had the most incredible relationship I could have asked for.  Even though it didn't work out how we all hoped - it doesn't change the fact that Will was the one for me in my 20s.  
• I got engaged.  IN PARIS.  That just doesn't get to happen to everyone.  I'll consider myself lucky for the rest of my life that I got to have that experience.  
• I dealt with earth shattering loss.  And I survived.  Sometimes I don't know how.  But I did.  I kept seeing the quote: 'You never know how strong you are until being strong is the only choice you have'.  I don't even know if I can appropriately call me getting through that being strong - I just did what I had to do to survive.  And if I can make it through the loss of my person - I know that I can make it through pretty much anything. 
• I found a new passion in CrossFit.  The loss of Will was soul crushing and CrossFit gave me something to be excited about again.  And now as I coach - I try to share that enthusiasm with our athletes (or annoy the crap out of people who just want me to shut up and let them workout.  It's 50/50 really.).  
• I left my job and ultimately decided to start my own business.  If you can't do this at 29 - when can you do it?  Biggest professional risk I've ever taken.  But I'm happy again.  And I was miserable at my old job.  There is definitely something to be said for being happy and terrified. I'll take it over miserable any day.  

There were a lot of really exciting things about my last decade but I'm excited (albeit terrified) about the next 30 years.  I'm a different person that I was a few years ago - I'm older, stronger, and hopefully wiser   So let's see what's next... 

Toes in the Sand

This last weekend, I got to spend a much needed weekend in the sun in California.  I've needed a vacation for a while - but more than anything, I've needed some time in the sun.  This winter has been especially rainy and dark and as much as I love Seattle - there is a time when it starts to wear on you.  

I left on Thursday - it couldn't have been more horrible timing with my Grandpa going into the hospital.  I spent a lot of time on the phone with my family trying to decide if I was going to go to Idaho to be with him or keep my vacation plans.  These are, of course, the worst kinds of decisions to have to make as there really is no right choice.  After a conference call with my dad - we decided that I should still go to California.  Although there will some people who would argue that I made the wrong choice - I know that it was the right thing to do for me.  That being said - I probably wasn't the best version of myself on this trip.  

California is where my oldest and longest friend lives.  I have been friends with Diana for as long as I can remember - I literally can't remember a time when we weren't friends.  Her family has been my extended family and I'm glad I got to spend this weekend with them.  They don't care if I'm off my game or a little less social and smiley than normal.  

I headed to California with certain hopes for this trip.  And although I had a blast - it wasn't exactly what I was hoping for.  But... sometimes that's how the chips fall and I'm trying to be okay with it.  While I'm bummed about certain things - I'm thrilled that I got to spend time with Diana and her family, especially while I was going through everything with my own family.  Sometimes, when you can't be with your own family - you get lucky enough to have the next best thing.  

Santa Monica Pier 

At the Getty Villa

Huntington Beach

#letmetakeaselfie

Because wine in the sun is better than wine in the rain.

#letmetakeanotherselfie (but this time I'm wearing a hat) 

The World Is Just A Little Bit Smaller

This weekend, the world lost someone who I was pretty sure was going to live forever, probably out of pure stubbornness and refusal to die.  My Grandpa passed away early on Friday morning.  He was the last of my grandparents still around - and that is inexplicably sad to me.  While I know he'll never get to see some of the awesome things left to come in my life - he was around for some of the cooler things that have happened in the last (almost!) 30 years.  

Grandpa and I have gotten pretty close in the last few years.  We talked every couple of weeks - sometimes longer, sometimes less - but nothing was better than this year when the Seahawks swept the Superbowl.  Grandpa (a lifelong Cowboys fan - even if 'that quarterback ain't worth nothing!') acquiesced that he could go for the Seahawks and even found the perfect hat: 

I didn't even send it to him.  I swear.  

Even though he was totally wrong about the score (31-17 Broncos) - I think we talked four times that week to debate the game and what we thought was going to happen.  

Grandpa had been there for almost every significant moment of my life.  High school graduation, high school sports (he even stood in the stands and yelled 'Run Forrest Run' at me when I did track - because that wasn't horrifying or anything), college graduation.  He made a trip over from Idaho to meet Will when we had our meet the family/engagement dinner.  He instantly liked Will and let me know that it would be acceptable for me to marry him and have him be part of our family.  When Will passed away four months later - Grandpa came to his memorial in MT.  I don't think that he really knew what to say - he just hugged me and then tried to get me to eat.  And eat.  And eat.  I think that's the way that he was able to show me he cared - by feeding me.  After, he called me a couple of times a week, just to check in and make sure I was okay.  I was obviously not okay - but having him call meant a lot.  Probably because I don't think he'd ever called me directly before - ever.  I was actually surprised that he had my number.  We had always talked when I called there - one of those 'check in with your elders' kind of things.  

Dad and I took a quick trip there this summer - I really wanted a chance to see him at home and have always thought that it's important to make the time to see family.  Life can get so hectic and so busy, but as his death has reminded me yet again, you never know when someone isn't going to be there.  I'm really grateful that Dad and I took that trip - not only did we get like 13 hours of daddy/daughter time time in the car (where he realized that I'm slightly less patient in the car than I was at 10 years old and that I will tell him to drive faster) but Grandpa got to show me around the house, show me his shop, and just generally show his granddaughter off to his friends.  All things that I think are more important to grandparents than they would ever admit out loud.  

It had never crossed my mind that my Grandpa wouldn't be there to see me walk down the aisle, or to have kids of my own.  He's been a constant fixture in my life forever - and he taught me how to fish (AKA letting me cast into the branches over and over and over again until he just started giving me the crappy lures because he knew I was just going to lose them anyways), and taught me to shoot (and discovering that although I'm right handed - my left eye is dominant which makes for a complicated aiming situation).  

Thank you Grandpa for the life lessons - especially: 'don't drive drunk', 'Run Forrest Run', and 'Romo sucks'.  You will be missed and loved every day.  

The Truth About Shelter Dogs

We all know that for the last six months, I have been having a bit of a love affair with my dog.  Like the 'who needs a boyfriend when you have a dog' kind of love affair.  I have taken hundreds of pictures of her just being adorable and spent countless hours having doggie play dates, snuggling on the couch and just being ridiculous.  But what most people don't know is that my dog, Grace, is a rescue pit bull.  She's a mix of something else (probably lab) and I could have her DNA tested to see exactly what she is - but for the most part, she's a pit bull.  If you look at picture of an American Staffordshire Terrier - it's my dog.

Look how cute (and how pissed) she is. Go Seahawks!  We all wear jerseys in this house.

I've had a couple of friends lately who are looking to get dogs and I highly recommend for them to get a shelter dog.  I don't have any problem with purebred dogs that you get as puppies - my parents have always had labs and they are amazing, amazing dogs. But for me personally, I'll all about the shelter dogs.

Here are some things you can expect when you bring home a shelter dog: 

• They'll jump all over you when you come home - even if you were only gone for 15 minutes.  Dogs have no sense of time, no way to read a clock and they are just so excited that you came back.  Shelter dogs have a reason to be excited - they were most likely left somewhere and their people never came back.  
• They'll follow you everywhere and be unhappy when left alone.  Probably because they were left alone in their past life most of the time.  
• They won't take treats in a polite fashion - most likely because no one has ever given them treats before.  If they were especially unlucky - they didn't know when their next meal was coming and it will take a while for them to realize that you'll always feed them.
• It may take them a little bit of time to trust you - you don't know what their lives were like before.  Be patient.  It will happen.  
• They will be amazing dogs. Even the 'aggressive' breeds are amazing.  Any dog can be taught to be aggressive but all the pits that I've met are more likely to roll over so you can rub their belly then to growl at you. 
• They'll take over your life.  And your couch.  And your bed.  And you will probably step on one of their bones when you get up at 4:15am.  
• They will love you more than anything else in the world.  Not only are you their person, but they know that you rescued them.  And if you are lucky, they will rescue you too.  

And for the people who didn't want my sweet dog or thought that she wasn't good enough or well-behaved enough or whatever.... thank you. She's a pain in the ass.  She eats my shoes.  She's peed and pooped and thrown up on the carpet.  My cats refuse to come out from under the bed when she's around.  But she also sits at my feet when I work.  She sleeps with her head in my lap.  She licks my face when she wants to get up in the morning.  She knows all my deepest, darkest secrets and I know she won't tell.   

Seriously.  Shelter dogs.  They will love you unconditionally because you are their person. And I am by no means saying that other dogs won't - not at all.  But I just look at the animals in the shelter or in rescues and it breaks my heart.  (And yes... there is a good chance that I've been sitting at home all day feeling crappy and watching a marathon on NatGeoWild that included at least one ASPCA commercial every 30 minutes.)

Things Often Left Unsaid

It's that time of year.  The time where I need to take some time to recognize the most important person to ever come into my life.  Two years ago, I lost my fiance, Will, in a skiing accident.  I don't talk about him a lot but there isn't a day that goes by that I don't miss him. I always hesitate to post about him - it's so unbelievably private and hard to share - but here goes.  

Tomorrow (Jan 22) is the actual date that he died but today is almost just as hard.  It's the last totally normal day that we had - filled with hair cuts, trips to the Post Office for wedding stamps, homemade dinner, and a bad made-for-tv movie.  Today is the day that I really miss him - tomorrow is a day I remember to be totally filled with chaos and shock.  Nothing about this week is easy - I don't think that it ever will be.  But I stay busy and smile and go about my regular life - all the things that he would want me to do.  Even when I'm older and hopefully have a family of my own - he will never cease to be a crucial part of my life and his death was one of the defining moments that made me who I am now.    

Will was my other half. He was that person who made my life complete and the last two years have been harder that I ever like to admit.  It's hard to explain, but you move forward knowing that someone can't come back - but yet you are still holding out hope that it could somehow happen.  

I remember him every single day and I know that I will for the rest of my life.  I'm a different person now than I was when I was with Will - neither is better, neither is worse - I'm just different.  It's impossible to go thru something like that and not come out differently. 

In November, Will was honored by the military by having a room at the European Command Center in Stuttgart, Germany dedicated to him.  During Will's time in Germany - he helped design and implement a communications suite.  It was a huge project and one that he was incredibly proud to be a part of.  I remember him talking about it almost daily during our long-distance phone calls and chat sessions.  He worked his tail off on that room and the military honored him by naming it after him.  

Will would be incredibly humbled and honored to have his name on a room that he worked so hard for.  It sounds so silly.  After all - it's just a room right?  No.  It's not just a room.  One of Will's best friends (who happens to be married to one of my best friends and is the reason that Will and I were together in the first place) sent me an email explaining to me just how big of a deal this is (and I hope he doesn't kill me for including it here): 

There are currently 10 Combatant Commands.  Each with a 4 Star General or Admiral in charge.  These commanders along with the service chiefs (top ranking officer of each service) run the DOD.  It doesn't get any higher than a Combatant Command unless you are at the Pentagon.   Will having a bronze plaque, dedication and room named after him is monumental.  To put things in perspective: I have served in the Navy for 18 years and have never known anyone to receive this honor and I have been fortunate to serve with a lot of great Americans that people refer to as Heroes.  There have been roughly 6,500 Service members who have lost their lives serving their country in both Iraq and Afghanistan.  I would guess less than a 100 have a bronze plaque with a room named after them.  Even less at a Combatant Command.  Think about this, 50 years from now meetings will be held in the William J. Barnette room.

I've always been proud of Will.  Ever since I met him over six years ago.  Everything he's done has made me proud to call him my boyfriend, my ex-boyfriend, my boyfriend, my ex-boyfriend (and so on and so forth for a solid two and a half years), and finally, my fiance.  We were together for just over four years at the time of his accident and no matter how mad at him I was - I was always proud of his dedication to his service to this country.  Because of this, we did most of our relationship apart - deployments, being stationed abroad - we did it all.  But because he loved this country so much and was so proud to be part of the military - I was proud of him.  And it was okay to be apart, because he was making a difference. 

I have never been more proud of him than I am now.  He has been gone for two years - but the things that people still say about him are incredible. He is making a difference, even in his passing - this room will be a crucial role in the military operations at that base from here forward and Will was an integral part in that.  

Will was the best person that I have ever known.  I remember telling someone that I knew I wanted to be with him because he made me want to be a better person. I feel that way even now - there is hardly anything that I do without thinking of him first.  I have lived my life since his death thinking about what would make him proud. He was one of the good ones - kind, compassionate, loving, smart, loyal, funny - everything that you want in a husband and a friend.  If anyone has ever deserved their name to be molded in bronze and installed on a wall at a DoD building - it's Will.

What Are You Thankful For?

Happy Thanksgiving y'all!  Today's the day when we gather with our family and friends to salivate in the kitchen for hours and then eat ourselves into a tryptophan-induced coma while watching too much football and drinking too many cocktails. (What? That's not the norm for you?)

Check it.  I made a turkey.  It's a mini turkey.  But a turkey nonetheless.

While you are spending your time overindulging, I hope that you are also able to take a second to be thankful (after all - that is the reason for the day.  Contrary to popular belief, it's not just the day before Black Friday.). Today, we will eat more food than some people get to see in a month and we are safe and warm in our homes surrounded by loved ones.  There are a lot of things that aren't perfect - but today, instead of complaining, try to embrace the things that are pretty darn good. 

Today, I'm thankful for a lot.  My parents are here to share the holiday with me and help me with things around the house which is much appreciated.  They brought their adorable puppy who makes everything just a little bit better (I mean, really, EVERYTHING is better with a puppy).  The Cowboys are losing (scratch that, the Cowboys won. Damnit.).  I've managed to not burn down my house while cooking Thanksgiving dinner (although it was touch and go for a bit). I have the best friends in the world (you know who you are!) - you keep me sane, you deal with my neurosis and you are just generally the best.  I'm pretty much just thankful to have the life that I have.  No, it's not always perfect (it's actually usually a hot mess) but it is what it is and I'm making the best of it!

So... what are you thankful for? 

A CrossFit Girl's Guide to Surviving the Holidays

Tis the season. For crazy food consumption, lots and lots of drinking, sequins and sparkles, and mistletoe (oh please, let there be mistletoe!). From tomorrow (Thanksgiving) until the second weekend in January, I will eat approximately my body weight in food (and not healthy food) and drink at least that many holiday themed beverages - come'on, red wine is totally holiday themed.  Red?  Duh. 

How is a girl to manage all the food and crazy holiday party business without putting on 10lbs of sugar/bready/non-paleo diet weight?  Good freaking question.  For the next two months, here are my general life goals:

• Make time to workout at least three times a week. 
• Pass on the bread bowl.  I'm definitely not going to skip on all of the next two months of sweets/breads/holiday goodness - that's torture.  But... I can pass on the breadbowl.  
• Social drinking only!  There are enough social events for the next two months that I'm literally running around several days a week.  (Just for clarification sake - 'social' only has to entail one other person. I don't want to set the standard too high.)

In other words - try not to do what I do every other year - gorge on sweets, drink too much, and abstain from athletic activity. (I say this as I am making candied yams.  Pretty much my favorite dish ever with only three ingredients - yams, brown sugar and butter.  Delicious.  And awful for me.  AND... I didn't go to the gym today. Winning!) 

I'm also hosting Thanksgiving this year.  First Thanksgiving in my new house.  My folks are here from MT and they brought their adorable, 8-week old puppy.  She's really so ridiculously cute and is having a blast jumping all over my dogs head.  If anyone wants to join the chaos - we'll have plenty of food (and I've got enough booze to survive the zombie apocalypse) and I can bribe you with an adorable puppy to play with. 

See?  Who can say no to this face?!

Granite Mountain Hotshots

Having been raised in a fire family, I've paid extra attention Sunday's tragic deaths of the 19 Hotshot crew members in Arizona.  My dad was a Los Angeles City fireman and I've lived my entire life being surrounded by all types of firefighters.  The people that my dad worked with are in some of my favorite childhood memories and his best friend and his wife have never been known to me as anything but Uncle Denny and Aunt Laura.  I consider them and their children to be my family in the fiercest way possible and when my uncle passed away a few years ago - it was no different than losing a member of my own genetically-connected family. 

My heart absolutely breaks for everyone who was touched by this tragedy.  All of the crew members were so young and had so much of their lives ahead of them.  It's such a loss for the community in Arizona, the fire department, and their families. In reading several articles about the fallen heroes, I found out that several of them worked out at Captain Crossfit in Prescott, AZ.  The coaches were quoted about how awesome they were to work with and how encouraging they were to other athletes.  It's a huge loss for the CrossFit community as well.  I can't even begin to imagine losing a single gym member to that kind of tragedy, much less a whole crew.  

I know that as a CrossFit community, we take the time to recognize our fallen heroes - crossfit.com always pays homage with a special WOD named after them with what I can only assume are favorite (or most hated) movements, on Memorial Day - almost every gym does Murph, and I've seen several gyms that do fundraiser WODs for fallen members of police, fire or military.  I sincerely hope that a kick-ass Hero WOD will come out of this tragedy so that as a CrossFit community, we can honor these fallen men in the way that we do - by sweating and pushing ourselves to the limit in a way that would make the fallen proud. 

Why is this such a big deal to me?  Probably because I was too young to realize the danger that my dad was in every time that he went to work.  It never even crossed my mind.  I knew that my dad and the other firemen were my own personal heroes - but I was too young to realize that it was a real possibility that they wouldn't come home.  Now, as an adult, I can put myself into the shoes of those who lost husbands, fathers, sons, friends, and heroes.  

I think we can also all take a lesson from the Hotshots.  The coaches from Captain CrossFit were quoted as saying that the fallen were among the most encouraging at the gym.  So... take a minute - stop tearing down your equipment and running out the door the second you are done with the WOD.  Instead, grab your water bottle, take a drink, and show some encouragement to the athlete who is struggling to finish.  Help your dead dog tired classmate put their plates away after a grueling workout.  Introduce yourself to someone new - especially when they have that panicked 'first official WOD' look on their face.  Help someone get into their pullup bands - even if it extends your time by 2 seconds.  Give your team a high five after the workout - everyone just worked their asses off and deserves it.  Smile!  Just go the extra mile for the others at the gym.  

Photo courtesy City of Prescott, AZ

Interested in helping out the families of the Granite Mountain Hotshot crew?  Click here for information on donating.  It may not seem like a whole lot, but trust me, the kindness of total strangers after losing your loved one to a tragedy - means the world. 

The Boston Marathon

"But the night was ordinary.  It usually is, I think, when your life changes.  Most people aren't doing anything special when the carefully placed pieces of their life break apart." 
- Carole Radziwill, What Remains

I read this book not long after Will died and these words resonated with me. It's true. From everyone who I've ever talked to - it's just a normal day when your life falls apart. Maybe you sense something in the air - but you can't quite put your finger on what it is. For all intents and purposes- its just a normal day. 
 

Today, the explosions at the Boston Marathon are stunning people all across the country, reminding us that life is too short and that sometimes people do horrible things to totally innocent people for absolutely no reason.  I'm sure that eventually we will know some sort of reason behind it - but to the people who have lost their lives and limbs and to the family and loved ones left behind - it may not matter.  

All of these people who were just having a normal day have now had their lives rocked and will never be able to go back to the way it was the second before the explosions went off.  These people were attending the race to cheer on parents, children, husbands, wives, sisters, brothers, friends and complete strangers who were competing. Everyone who was touched by the tragedy today will never be able to go back to the minute before the finish line practically exploded.
 

I don't know what it was like to be at that race, but I do know what it is like to have your entire world break apart in seconds.  For me, I never get to go back to 3:57pm on January 22, 2012.  For me, it wasn't an explosion - it was a phone call.   It's not the same - it's not even close - but the thing that I keep thinking about is that all those lives will never be the same.  

This is just another reminder to me that life is too short.  It's too short to not make the best of every single day.  It's too short to waste being mad, stressed or unhappy.  Life is too short to not be passionate.  It's too short not to be crazy in love with someone who makes you insanely happy. It's too short not to laugh or be silly. It's too short not to love what you do.  It's too short to be too busy to take that vacation or spend time with the people you love.  Life is way too short to not tell the people you love that you love them. 

You only live once.  Make the most of it.