But First, Coffee...

When I tell people that I coach CrossFit at 5:30 in the morning, I get a whole range of appalled faces staring back at me - generally followed by the 'how do you do that?!' question.  Coffee, people.  So. Much. Coffee.

But lately, when I've been waking up (at 4:30am) - I've been noticing that there are several distinct stages to the wake up process.  

Stage 1)  Denial.  

Is that my alarm clock?!  There is absolutely no way that it is already 4:30.  I just barely fell asleep.  

Stage 2)  Snooze.  

9 minutes more sleep will make my life better.  Just 9 more minutes.  

Stage 1)  Denial.  Round 2.  

Is that my alarm clock?!?!  No way it's been 9 minutes.  

Stage 2)  Snooze.  Round 2.  

9 more minutes.  I just need 9. More. Minutes. 

Stage 3)  Acceptance.  

Okay.  No more snoozing.  Must get up.  But at least there's coffee. 

Stage 4)  Hope.  

Wait.  Maybe class is cancelled.  I should check my email.  Maybe no one is signed up for our most popular class of the day.

Stage 5)  Resignation.  Round 2.  

Of course class isn't cancelled.  Okay.  Time to get up.  Must get coffee.

Stage 6)  Annoyance.

Dog crawls into warm spot in the bed.  I feed you AND pick up your poop - you should at least be up when I am up.

Stage 7)  Anger.  

Where is my sports bra?!  Why do I only have one sock?! Why didn't I get organized last night?! It's so much easier when I'm organized.  It's like I'm new.

Stage 8)  First sip of coffee.  

I officially feel sorry for people who don't drink coffee. This is amazing.

Stage 9)  Ready to roll.  

10 minutes, one cup of coffee, a giant to-go cup and some mascara.  Let's do this.

Stage 10)  Caffeinated enough to annoy the crap out of my athletes.  

Winning!

That, my friends, is how you get a functional CrossFit coach at 5:30 in the morning.

A St. Patty's Day to Remember

Okay... in all fairness.... today isn't actually St. Patrick's Day.  But it was the St. Pattys Day Dash and that's practically the same thing.  We signed up for the 5K a couple of weeks ago and it was finally time to actually do it.  In the pouring rain.  And the cold.  Ugh.  Nothing screams 'Yay! I'm going to run a 5K' like rain and wet.  

Big bow ties?  Winning.  

So... confession time - we didn't actually run.  Except for the last 10 feet over the finish line.  We walked (but at a pretty quick clip!), drank our coffee, chit chatted, and gawked at costumes.  There were a lot of people in tutus.  And let me tell you... tutus droop in the rain.  

Best costume I saw?  Guy in a rainbow tutu and suspenders.  And that's it.  

Biggest perk of the race?  The beer garden.  I mean... do people even run 5Ks for any other reason??  

When there is drinking and revelry - there is also lots of left over plastic keg cups.  Therefore, there is also drunken artistic shenanigans.  

And I shall leave you with this.  Happy St. Patricks Day.  Wear your green tomorrow or I shall pinch you.  

Things I Learned This Weekend (Or Why My Neighbors Think I'm a Hot Mess)

This weekend was the wedding of one of my favorite couples.  You know those couples that you just knew were perfect for each other from the first time you saw them together?  This wedding was for that couple.  There was never any doubt in any of our minds that Julie and Danny were perfect for each other and their wedding was absolutely beautiful.  However, with every wedding that you attend, comes much anticipation and preparation.  I'm so jealous of men... suits on, run a hand through the hair and done.  We spend HOURS on preparation - not to mention the amount of time it takes to just physically get into the dress (which is never just as easy as putting on a pair of pants).  Being a girl sucks sometimes.  

Anyways... this is what I learned this weekend:

1. Just because your adorable hair dresser can McGyver her broken high heels, doesn't mean that you can too.  Anything that involves super glue, pliers, and heavy books is probably not a plan that you are going to be able to do well in a time crunch.  At least not well enough to be able to put it on your feet and wear successfully for the evening.  
2. Even if you think you are badass enough to McGyver your shoes - get a back up pair just in case your plan fails (as it almost inevitably will).  This will save you from having to make not one, not two, but three trips to Nordstrom in the course of the day with the last being in a panic 45 minutes before you are scheduled to be picked up.  
3. Even though you've made it home, in one piece, and alone - it will still look like you are doing the walk of shame out of your own house in the morning.  Last night's pretty bouncy hair plastered to your face and mascara/eyeliner smudges all over.  It is times like this that you will inevitably run right into your neighbors and apparently the weekend guests that they had staying with them.  Awesome. 
4. After you mumble something about having a wedding last night to try to explain your disheveled appearance, you'll get your dog in the car and go for lunch.  And by go for lunch, I obviously mean go to Wendy's (seriously, a Wendy's delivery service would make bank) - as nothing cures a slight hangover like a spicy chicken sandwich and a frosty.  
5. It's also inevitable that you will return home from your adventure for lunch to find your neighbors still standing outside by your parking spot.  Shame is having to walk past them again - this time, with a giant bag of Wendy's goodness.  Especially because Wendy's is literally one block away - and you quite obviously drove there.

Awesome.  It's been an awesome day.  

My date and I practicing our sorority girl pose.  

Another One Bites The Dust

So... remember the time that my cat got kicked out of the groomer?  Well.  Let's add the dog to the newest list of Molle family beauty school dropouts.  Fail.  Damnit.  She bit the groomer when she tried to cut her nails.  Duh.  I'd bite someone too if they were trying to cut my nails when I didn't want them to.  That's why I take her to the groomer to get it done.  So she doesn't bite me.

In other dog news.... this happened: 

RIP shoe. You were well loved (and very cute).

 But how mad can you be when they look like this? 

Glamor shot. 

Who runs the house?  If you guessed me, you were wrong.  It's her. 

In other other news, I don't have any hot water and can't use any appliances.  Thank you Puget Sound Energy for making this week AWESOME.  Somehow wires got crossed at PSE and my account was never set up.  This is something like how the convo went: 

Me: I talked to you back in August when I moved into my house.  The exact words were 'you are good to go, Ms. Molle.'
PSE: We are showing that we talked to the gentlemen on your account.  Is there a Mr. Barnette on your account? 
Me: Ummm... 
PSE:  We talked to him on blah-blah-blah date and shut off service at your prior address.  
Me:  Ummmm... 
PSE:  But it doesn't look like it was ever transferred to another location.  
Me: Ummmmm... I think there has been confusion.  

After I explain to the customer service rep that there is no way that they spoke to someone who passed away almost two years ago, the obviously flustered man asks me this: 

PSE: Okay Ms. Molle, we've got you all set for your new location.  Would you like to keep Mr. Barnette as an authorized signer?  
Me: Ummmmmm... 

This is my life.  

Naked and Loving It?

Let's not kid ourselves, you want to read this because of the title.  Sorry to disappoint... but this doesn't involve pictures.  

Okay... I'm going to overshare here for just a minute.  I got a spray tan today.  And it was GLORIOUS.  I haven't had one for almost a year and I honestly forgot how much I love being fake tan (yup.  There is something wrong with that statement.  I'm able to acknowledge it).  BUT, do you know how much better everyone looks with a tan?  Ridiculously better.  And thinner.  Ridiculously thinner.  It's all an illusion you say?  Whatever.  It's a GREAT illusion.  

The awkward part of a spray tan?  Being TOTALLY NAKED in front of the lady who is all up in your business.  You are literally doing yoga poses in front of this person in your birthday suit.  That's a real thing.  It happened today.  And Suzanne from Nordstrom Spa had a totally normal conversation with me about bridesmaids dresses while making sure that the tan was even across my  booty.  Hmmm.  Yeah.  That happened.  

But Danielle, why do you want a spray tan?  Don't you want to embrace the pastey white that is a Seattle girl in late September?  No.  No I don't.  I am going to California tomorrow to be a bridesmaid in my friend Diana's wedding.  Diana has been my friend since we were 3' tall (not kidding - I have the pictures to prove it).  First grade.  FIRST grade.  So... why the spray tan?  Because everyone else in this wedding is from CA.  And is tan.  And I'm from Seattle.  Do I need to spell it out or do you get it now? 

And before you crack any jokes... no.  This is not what I look like.  

But I do know people who looked like this in college.  I won't name any names... but you all know who I'm talking about. 

Moral of the story?  Fake tan and loving it. 

Hmmm...really, Google?

When I started a blog, I never expected that people would actually read it.  I thought that I'd look back in a year or so and laugh about the stupid things that I think are interesting/funny.  Turns out - lots of other people think the things I say are interesting/funny and they keep reading (Thank you!!! That's actually kinda totally awesome and I hope I can continue to make you laugh as hard as I make myself laugh).  

Today, I decided to find out how people actually find my blog.  Well... my blog comes up a lot when people search for CrossFit and CrossFit girls.  Duh - that's the basic gist of what I've been going for.  Now, here is where things get interesting.  Other searches that I come up under?  CrossFit booty, CrossFit dating (if there is a website for this - please direct me to it immediately), dating a CrossFit girl (I hope I gave you good advice and didn't potentially scare you off forever)  BUT... my personal favorites are: (drumroll please) Hotties from Tough Mudder Whistler and topless CrossFit girls.  TOPLESS CROSSFIT GIRLS?!?!?!? (I get it.  I once used the word 'topless' in a blog.  No.  It was not in reference to me.  However, I've also used lots of other words.)  And hotties from Tough Mudder Whistler??  People searched for that?!?!?! More than one person searched for that?!?!  (Or I guess the same person several times?)

I officially need an SEO manager for my blog. 

Dear Delta... I Hate You

Well... I'm stuck in the Salt Lake City airport.  YEAH!  Okay...  let me preface this by saying that I am ALWAYS stuck in the SLC airport.  Literally every time that I fly thru SLC - I am stuck here.  Last time, they tried to make me stay the night.  On a Sunday.  In Salt Lake City.  Absolutely not.  Thank you Delta Airlines for making yet another trip memorable.  

On the positive side - I've gotten to sit next to a totally delightful woman from Minnesota who talks at approximately 95db with a super awesome northern MN twang (you know exactly what I'm talking about) and so I've heard her entire phone conversations - even through my noise-cancelling headphones. (In case you were confused - I was being sarcastic.  I may need a sarcasm defining font.)  That, my friends, is too loud.  

On another note - a woman at my conference yesterday called me delightful too - and she wasn't being sarcastic.  At least I don't think she was.  Hmm.  Well... I don't think that ever in the entire history of my life has anyone called me delightful. (My boss laughed and said that she has obviously only seen me on good days.  Umm... thank you?)   So... I'm embracing delightful as my new adjective.  If I ever try the dating on the interwebs again - I shall use delightful to describe myself.  Maybe that will get me a boy over 5'8.  It could totally work right?  Guys must dig delightful girls.  

On a completely different note:  some middle-aged drunk guy hit on me in the hotel elevator yesterday.  Well... actually, it was in line for the hotel elevator.  This is how the conversation went: 

Middle-Aged Drunk Guy (MDG): This is a long line for the elevator.  
Me: (Polite smile.)
MDG:  Don't you think this is an abnormally long line for the elevator?
Me:  No... not really.  It's fine.  Busy night. 
MDG:  I'm Kevin. (Leans in and extends hand.  Can instantly smell Jack Daniels.  Lots of it)
Me:  Hi Kevin.  I'm Danielle.  (Shakes his hand.  Need to get better at coming up with fake name... immediately.)
MDG:  We should go get a drink.  They have good drinks in the bar.  Let's go for a drink.  
Me:  Umm... no... I think I'm going to go to bed.  But thank you. 
MDG:  Are you sure?  I'll buy you a drink.  (Pause)  You look strong.  
Me:  Yeah... I'm sure.  And thank you?       
MDG:  No seriously, you look REALLY strong.  

Elevator doors FINALLY open and I go to the exact opposite side as Kevin.  After he exits, Other Random Dude (ORD) and I have this conversation: 

ORD:  You handled that guy quite well. 
Me: (totally awkward feeling)  Thank you?
ORD:  And... you do look strong.  

Seriously!?!??!  

 
 

Not Even Remotely About CrossFit (okay... maybe just a smidge)

One of my girlfriends asked me recently - why don't I blog more about my dating? Well... let's just do a quick summary of my love life shall we?  

.

Zilch.  

I've got zilch.  

It's not that I don't want to be dating.  I would LOVE to have a fantastic guy around.  But I think I'm taking a break from actively seeking one out on the interwebs.  Online dating is exhausting.  And I'm tired.  All the time.  That's what happens when you have a full time job, are doing a coaching internship AND working out 4-5 days a week.  My house is almost always a disaster, my cats feel neglected and I'm at least three weeks behind on my DVR (that's a lie, I don't have a DVR - but I do have OnDemand).  I don't even have time to see my friends - my best friend lives 30 minutes away and I haven't seen her in at least a month.  I'm a terrible friend.  

The only reason I do hang out with any of my friends now is that they are friends from the gym and we go out after our workout.  And no one cares that I am sweaty and gross looking - because they are also sweaty and gross looking.  No date would appreciate post-WOD Danielle.  This is what I look like: 

Remember this picture? Go me.

Yeah... not pretty.  Not pretty at all. 
 
It's not that I don't want to date.  Dating is awesome.  I love meeting new people. But... getting all cleaned up to go meet a complete stranger that I may or may not hit it off with when I don't even have time to see friends who I love isn't a high priority in my life right now.  

AND -- I'm sick of guys being intimidated by the fact that I do CrossFit.  Yes- I do CrossFit.  Yes- I'm decent at it.  Yes- I'm strong.  If you can't handle the fact that I can probably outlift you - I don't need any part of it.  Maybe I've gotten spoiled by the fact that  I work out with fantastic guys who are super encouraging and want nothing more than for us girls to get one more rep or 5 more lbs.  I would really just love a guy who will totally rock a 'My Girl Is Stronger Than You' shirt.  

I'm actually totally okay with not dating right now.  I'm having a blast just doing me.  I'm busy and enjoying every minute of it (okay... that may be an exaggeration... but I enjoy MOST minutes of it).  So... the summary of my recent dating experiences?  Nada. 

On the positive side:  being single has given me WAY more time to practice cooking.  Here's a quick recipe for best steak rub ever: 

Coffee Spice Rub
2T coffee (I used Seattle's Best #4. I like my coffee darker and thought this had great flavor)
1t Cinnamon
1/2t Smoked Paprika
1/2t Cumin
A pinch of cayenne pepper (just for a little punch)
Salt (I used Himalayn Pink Sea Salt as it is AWESOME.  And pink.)  

Delicious.  Make it ASAP.  Actually, ditch whatever you were planning to make for dinner tonight and make steak.  It's a great plan.