Life lately has been a constant struggle to force myself to take rest days, lots of time spent in little cafes working and attempting to write, awkwardly filming myself doing party tricks (aka mastering skills) in the gym, fueling myself with some really good food and dragging my lazy ass out of the house to hang with some brilliant people I get to call friends.
Training has started to consume my mind, body and soul. As soon as I see some sort of progress I yearn for more. I've even starting writing down my workouts, which is pretty out of character for the most unorganized person in the world (me). Also, the four pack I can see on my stomach is totally on its way to becoming a six pack.
I woke up like this.. to go work out |
Olympic lifting is bad-fucking-ass. I know, it seems a little weird to spend hours in the gym lifting up pieces of metal and then putting them back down again.. but its addicting. Instead of giggling over SNL skits on YouTube I now find myself googling snatch technique and wondering why my parents didn't put me in weightlifting classes when I was younger.
In exactly one month I hop on a plane to California (don't worry BCN, I'll be back). I've spent more time planning where I'm going to do the Crossfit Open workouts than I have figuring out where I'm staying. #priorities
Hi, my name is Gillian and I'm an addict. You can find me covered in chalk, chewing on a Quest bar and practicing kipping pull-ups, all while discussing the latest WOD and planning my meals for the day.
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