lessons from a "me" day

On today's One World posting, Freddy incorporated a discussion about CrossFit and women's concerns about getting too bulky. Naturally, this turned into a small discussion about CrossFit and beauty. If you know me, you know that beauty is my job, my research, and sadly, a major portion of my life. But I won't dwell tonight. Instead, I welcome you to read my thoughts on the matter here. With respect to CrossFit, women, and getting bulky, here is the story that Freddy posted. I share my fathlete take on that same issue here. In case you read the comments on the One World post, you can find the hooker heels reference and all the other crazy gym characters here.

Whew. Okay. That was a lot of linking.

Reading Freddy's post and the comments prompted me to share this thing that I wrote a few weeks ago. The photo above was taken at the marketplace in the Ferry Building in San Francisco. I was literally writing this piece in the photo! A little background: This "thing" came about when some silly girl referred to me as "old." Though I wanted to throw my shoe at her, I couldn't understand why I couldn't find the intentional insult insulting. Also, a part of me is reeling from quote and a recent Olive Garden conversation. I love that people can amaze me in good ways. Enjoy...

Lessons From a "Me" Day

Growing up, I thought that life began at the age of twenty-four. By the age of twenty-four, I envisioned myself married, settled down, and delving in to whatever career I chose to be in.

When these things didn’t happen, I spent a number of years in the self-loathing, “what is WRONG with me? why am I not good enough?” state-of-mind. Behind the laughter, the witty sense of humor, and the ass-kicking facade, was an extremely insecure and unsatisfied person.

If I could visit my twenty-four year-old self now, I’d kick the living shit out of her.

I decided that today, of all days, I’d give myself a “me” day. Unfortunately, I don’t get to give myself a lot of these. I spent the day in the city where I treated myself to a movie – popcorn, water, and all. I then headed over to a nearby restaurant where I proudly ate what I wanted, as much as I wanted, and didn’t think twice about taking the rest home for later. From there, I headed to a coffee shop to get some writing done.

Right now, I’m here at the Embarcadero.
Sitting on a table that I’m not supposed to sit at.
Jotting my thoughts on the day.

This city, this life, is incredible if you listen well enough, look closely enough, and feel deeply enough.

As I indulge in my “me” day, I’m reminded that I love the state in which I am at right now – regardless of my saggy boobs, increasing number of wrinkles, stiff joints, grey hair, and all. I indulge in my self-growth and relish the fact that though my twenty-four year-old self would NEVER go to a movie alone, eat in a restaurant without the safety net of a book, or just sit here in the middle of San Francisco’s marketplace staring at the water with no specific agenda, my thirty-something self would do all these things in a heartbeat and without batting an eyelash.

There are a number of people I could call, things I could do to look occupied, places I could go to where my alone-ness is less obvious. But my thirty-something self just won’t have it.

In my older age, I care less about the clothes I’m wearing, the make-up I’m buying, and the material goods I want but know I can’t afford. Instead, I care deeply about the contours of the people around me and am slowly but assertively letting go of the toxic personalities that choose to plague my life.

In the meantime, I’m learning that someone else’s bullshit doesn’t have to be mine. Those who matter know the difference between your good intentions and someone else’s stupidity.

I could care less about eating at a fancy restaurant and would much rather spend a few less dollars and a little bit more time cooking in my own kitchen for the sake of having friends over “just because.”

I spend way less time obsessing over intricate details of the body parts I wish would just go away, and I celebrate any time I can shave seven minutes off “Mr. Joshua.”

In my older age, I’m learning to take a compliment much better. I’m trying to be less of a cynic. And with the help of the priceless friendships that continue to bless my world, I’m working on restoring my faith in things I didn’t have faith in before (including myself).

At this point in my life, I'm turing my back on "where is he?" and leaning on the hope that whomever he is, will show up when the time is right.

My younger self was obsessed with being the pretty girl. I am okay with the fact that I am not and was never meant to be the pretty girl. Instead, I aspire to be a beautiful soul because I know she'll endure well after the pretty girl realizes she has nothing left.

I’ve let go of the idea of perfection and have surrendered to the fact that I’m a constant work-in-progress. At this moment, I am by no means 100% perfect. But I’m old enough to know that there are instances where 100% is complete bullshit.

I laugh more. I cry more. I apologize a lot less.

I’m learning that snap judgment and unwarranted gossip are a complete waste of my precious time.

I fully understand that no matter how I’m feeling, the world will still revolve on its axis, and that axis isn't made of just me.

Sigh. I’m not sure if kicking the living shit out of my twenty-four year-old self would have gotten me to this place any faster. But no matter what it took to get here, I’m glad that I continue to arrive.

- joanne l. rondilla
july 3, 2009

Warm-up
Row 500 meters
Eric's crazy warm-up that I declared was just WRONG! I forget what we did, but it included a shitload of walking lunges while carrying a dowel or 15# bar overhead, thrusters, overhead squats... Seriously. That was the warm-up!

CrossFit One World WOD: Grace
For time:
Complete 30 clean and jerks 68#

Joanne's Final Time - 5:28

Notes (to myself) about this workout: I should have sacrificed a few minutes and pushed the weight. Now I know that for the future, I need to go 75# or 80#. After the WOD I did some pull-up work. More appropriately, I tried hanging on the bar. My hands just hurt so I didn't get to do too much of this. But at least I can hang - even if it's just a little bit.

I'm trying to be less of a whiney bitch. Some days are better than others. Just be patient with me, people:)

On the bright side... I loved Lori's hot pink tank top. It made my day!