Please welcome Carl Borg as our new gym manager! Carl has been with CFNB a long time as an experienced coach but will now be taking on a larger role at the gym. Make sure to give him a congrats when you see him!
I would also like to announce we have hired Loic Bernard as a new coach to our team so make sure you welcome him with open arms. Here is a little info about Loic:
Born and raised in Southern France for the first half of his life, and raised in Orange County for the latter.
Loïc discovered crossfit on a Navy deployment to Somalia in 2008, and joined a newly opening box upon return. Crossfit opened new doors, and instilled a thirst for trying new sports and learning new skills.
After 2 years of competive crossfit, Loïc decided to focus on ultra marathons with minimal running experience and just a love for mountain trails. He has completed numerous distances from 50K to 70mi with a recent 3rd overall at 100K, and 2 attempts at Leadville Trail 100.
Loïc is working towards his USAW level 1.
We will be changing the Olympic Lifting Class back to 5:30pm on Tuesday. This Thursday 12/5 Oly class will be canceled this week and the new cycle will start next Tuesday. If you did the dev meet tonight you will receive a 6 week program specific to you.
A Crossfit Christmas Carol
(Author’s note: It’s an homage to Dickens, it had to be long.)
The turkey and ham will be eaten: to begin with. There is no doubt whatsoever about that. The remnants of their carcasses will be torn apart by the pugs, the schnauzers, the seagulls, and the garbage disposals.
What else though? What other delicious treats will attempt to throw us off course during this holiday season? The spongy cakes and flakey pies will surely beckon our names from atop the counters. What about the gelatinous cranberry sauce that stubbornly holds onto its canned shape? Ah yes. And although many of us wouldn’t eat such a cursed item with Khloe Kardashian’s mouth during 10 months of the year, suddenly during the “Holiday Season” we can accept these slip-ups in will power- making excuses and promises to get back on the train next week; after the relatives leave; after the entire extended family is done pooping in one toilet for the long weekend. All of these thoughts and this anxiety are further exacerbated by the fact that I texted Ken earlier today to let him know I wouldn’t be participating in tomorrow’s Turkey Trot and he was giving me shit.
These thoughts all race through my mind while I lie here in bed wearing a stocking nightcap – my mind quickly tangents off to wonder why a 29 year old in the year 2013 is wearing a stocking nightcap, but quickly I’m again reminded of the horror that awaits me during the holiday season: ladyfinger cookies, apple pies.. I’ve worked so hard at staying in shape all year and it can all be thrown away once the pesky relatives visit, casserole dishes in hand, and I decide I don’t have time for burpees.
*Ding, dong!* – The clock rings a quarter past, I thought counting in my head.
*Ding dong!* “Half past,” I whispered aloud.
Then suddenly a light flashes up in my room, my 2XU tights fall from my coat-hanger and a strange figure appears. He has golden skin, a shiny bald head, and wearing LuLu Lemon from head to toe. He sets down his kids-size Starbucks coffee cup.
“Ken??” I gasp incredulously, thinking it’s my Crossfit workout partner.
“Noooo” he says in a faux-spooky voice. Unconvincing but hoping the ominous atmosphere would lend to his ruse.
“What do you…?” I couldn’t finish before he interrupted.
“Tonight you will be visited by two ghosts!!”
“And they’ll teach me the meaning of the holiday season?”
“No. They’ll teach your flabby butt the meaning of staying motivated- so that next year at this time your significant other doesn’t get into the holiday spirit by jiggling your unsuspecting underarm area and yelling ‘Gobble! Gobble! Gobble!’ “ …
Sitting up in bed, I ask, “Are you trying to tell me something? Have my workouts fallen off? Is my family Christmas card going to show up with my portion covered up with a picture of Zac Efron again?”
“Take heed!” He shouts, while adjusting the straps on his Nike Olympic lifting shoes.
“Whoa, whoa, relax Ken.. Err, who, what am I calling you?”
“I am the ghost of fitness years’ past.”
“Oh, so we’re going to chat about the Crystal Light Dancers and Richard Simmons?”
“Silence, enough insolence! I will comment on YOUR past!” He shouts again, really getting into this.
“Ok, ok. Geez. Let’s get this started” I reluctantly agree, sensing this was another trick akin to last year when he told me I could put Progenex in my Christmas tree stand and it would allow the branches to support whole hams.
“Sweet, I mean Yes… started… we SHALL!”
“Ugh” I groaned.
“Let’s start with this, somewhat unrelated, topic: NO ONE wants to be included in your “Happy Thanksgiving” mass text. So stop it.
“I don’t see how that’s related at All, but o.k.”
“Now look at this,” he starts waiving his hand magician-like around in the air, presumably to cover up the fact that he’s pulling an iPad out from a bag on the floor.
He turns on the screen of the iPad, continuing to make awkward gestures with his hand, “Do you see?” He asks as the iPad begins a slide show of pictures taken from my Facebook page. The pictures are from 3 or 4 years ago, when I was about 15 lbs heavier – 13 of them in my face. “Do you see?” He asks again.
“Yes, yes, I see! I think I had to sew elastic panels into my Christmas pants that year, I remember it well.”
“Take this as a warning!” He says as the slideshow continues, showing some pictures with BBQ sauce photo-shopped all over my face.
“Now that wasn’t necessary,” I mumble.
“Today at the gym – Your words about desiring pecan pie and wanting to pour eggnog into your head by the gallon – summoned the spirits of fitness to visit you and SHAME YOU.” He explains, really hitting those last notes.
“Oh geez, I know I can’t go too crazy but it’s the Holidays and it’s hard to avoid all of those things. I was just going through this in my head before you broke in to my house. I think it will be o.k. to have 1 or 2 of the treats that I really like, but I’m going to try and make better versions of a lot of that stuff this year. Paleo is so popular and there are so many great resources online. There are also great stores that focus on healthier alternatives too. Like I bet Trader Joe’s is pretty awesome, if I ever found a spot in their parking lot.”
He finally sets down the iPad and pulls out his iPhone starting to type something before looking up again, “These are all great points and a good mindset to have, but what about working out? You can’t simply continue to try to log the high score on that calorie counting app on your phone.”
“What?” I laugh. “I was getting to that. I was just waiting…”
“Waiting for ‘Fat’ to be the new ‘Thin??’” He interrupts me again. “Or you can also continue to use the word ‘skinny’ during your Starbucks orders and hope that it helps you lose your weight along with your masculinity.”
“But my half-calf skinny soy vanilla lattes are supes delish” I retort, completely un-self-aware.
“Ok, that’s enough” Ken, I mean…the ghost says as he zips his iPad back into his backpack, picking it up from the floor. “I think I’ve mostly made my point. REMEMBER…” He reverts back to his fake ghost voice that I hoped he had forgot about using.. “Another ghost is on his WAYYY, so I must leave you now.”
As he’s leaving my room, he’s typing on his phone again and mutters loud enough for me to hear but to no one in particular, “Can’t believe Starbucks gets rid of the pumpkin spice so soon. What a bunch of tease.. Ooh Peppermint!”
“Seriously, ghosts tweet? Did you just do an Instagram video of this? What is happening?” I ask, as he leaves without responding. Fifteen seconds later my phone vibrates:
Message from Ken Rodriguez:
Hey tubby, thanks for the hospitality. I grabbed a Lara bar from the cupboard. And also I was admiring your Christmas tree that you put up super early and for some reason. There are ants all over it. From the presents at the bottom all the way up to the Bacon tree topper that I put on the top.
Setting my phone back down without responding, I decide that I am going to take some of his advice this holiday season. But it isn’t long before my mind starts drifting off again: picturing a relaxing Thanksgiving Day, eating pie and watching football. I imagine that the first Thanksgiving Day was pretty hectic, what with having to invent football right after the big meal and all. Before my mind gets any further down that rabbit hole, I’m interrupted by the flash of my computer screen lighting up the other end of my room. As the screen lights up, insanely loud music begins playing. It’s a pretty sick guitar riff followed by screaming– It’s SLAYER’s “Angel of Death”- I don’t even have this song on my computer. What the…
While I am still trying to gather my senses, I notice my chair beginning to roll out from underneath my desk and a shadowy figure starts to sprout up from below. You would think I would be freaking out, as I’m pretty sure this is a scene straight from a Rob Zombie wet dream but I’m mostly just very confused. The figure continues to emerge, he’s thin and the LED lights from my monitor provide enough for me to see that he’s wearing a zip up hoody with the image of a skeleton on it. Before he starts to pull down the hood that’s covering his head, I realize who I think it is.
“Carl?” I ask, thinking it’s my Crossfit trainer.
He continues to pull off the hood and is reaching back to towards my computer speakers to turn up the music before he speaks.
“Shhh! This is the best part!” he shouts over the music while finally removing the hood and revealing the short crew cut and black framed glasses that allow me to confirm that it is him. After the guitar riff ends, he turns down the volume. “Now there is still time for us to decide on the special place in hell for the people who play Christmas music before Thanksgiving. This is what we should all be listening to.”
“Carl, what the hell were you doing under my desk? Were you under there the whole time?”
“That’s enough Frank. You were warned that I’d be appearing and you should’ve had some clues anyway:” He gestures over to the corner of my room where I just now notice that there is a road bike leaning against the wall with helmet and race suit draped over the handlebars.
“This is getting ridiculous. Did you guys both break in here? Ken, I can understand because I just assumed he thought I had a girl roommate, but you Carl?”
“I’m not Carl!” He’s trying to yell, but his voice cracks before the third syllable. “I’m the ghost of your fitness future.” He finishes back at a normal octave.
“Whatever, but that entrance.. Dude, that was freaky! You’re lucky I didn’t toss my water glass at you. And I’ve never noticed how your skeleton-inspired wardrobe could actually be scary, but I guess context is everything. I always pictured it before as more or less what a tween wears on Halloween.”
“Very funny Frank, but we all make our own style choices. Much like you wear those feminine tights to work out in, or how many of our moms and aunts have been attending their own personal “Ugly Christmas Sweater Parties” every holiday season for years. But that’s neither here nor there. You know why I am here, so let’s get this over with so I can finish with my 401k.”
“You’re working on your investment contributions after this?” I ask.
“No! That’s how far I’m riding the bike tonight you lazy peon.”
“Holy crap,” I scratch my head trying to do the conversion into miles before being interrupted.
“How much working out do you plan to do this holiday season? How many PERFECT hollow rocks will you do?”
Wondering if he’ll ever give up on the whole “perfect” hollow rock thing that he always harps on at the gym, I respond: “Oh I don’t know. Thought maybe I’d spend the entire two months the same way I spend Thanksgiving Day- hiding in the bathroom, texting, and avoiding my family. Or wondering where else the turkey baster has been.” I struggle to finish without laughing at my own joke.
“Listen Frank, we’re here to remind you that you can don’t need to sacrifice what you’ve worked for all year. January is the month that most people plan to get into the gym. You have the benefit of momentum and there is no reason to screw up your routine. You can treat yourself here and there but you need to have a game plan going into the season and stick with it. Make sure I’m seeing you at the gym at least 3-4 days a week. I know it’s tough with kids and all the treats around. Kids and relatives cannot pressure you into eating badly or staying out of the gym though. Nor should they be giving you bad presents. If my kid got me a tie for Christmas they wouldn’t get any hugs or protein sources from me for about 4 months straight.”
“Not even if it was a skull tie?” I confirm.
“No, not even a skull tie.”
“Thanks Carl,, er, I mean ghost of fitness future? I feel much better now and knowing that there are people at the gym who are in this together with me. We’re like those families on sitcoms during the holiday season. Except you know how their dinners never go well? I mean you can just predict it- every holiday episode of sitcoms will have a dinner or dinner party that goes awry. I mean if you are a family in a sitcom, your dinner will NOT go well.” Carl interrupts my tangent.
“Are you finished?”
“Yes I’m done. Sorry.”
“Great, then I can get back on the road. And Ken told me to do this.” As he grabs his bike to wheel it out of my room, he reaches into his pocket and tosses a huge pile of what looks like glitter or shiny tinsel in the air.
As I watch the glittery concoction slowly float down onto my floor I think about how I, in fact, do not own a vacuum cleaner. When I look up to ask him if I can borrow the one from the gym, he’s gone and my door is slowly creeping shut.
I wake up the next morning and hurriedly get ready- putting on my running tights and minimalist shoes. I reach for my Iphone to send a mass text to as many people as Steve Jobs’ ghost will allow that I WILL be attending the turkey trot. I swerve up to the gym and park my car crookedly, all appearing as if I’m from Fountain Valley. I run up to the group of people that are already waiting for our morning jaunt:
Guys! I was visited by 2 ghosts last night! Or, I mean it was Ken and Carl, but whatever. I think they needed to make a point. I don’t have to stress so much about staying motivated for the gym during the holidays. I can eat a few things I like here and there and maybe try to make some healthier versions of holiday favorites! Maybe I can even carry over some of the other good meals from the season into the rest of the year- I’m not so sure why we wait all year to see how much stuff we can shove into a turkey’s butt anyway. I feel like everyone at the gym is in this together, and we can all hold each other accountable. I am SO excited to celebrate the season and also kick some butt in the gym, those things should go hand in hand I think! It all makes sense now. Let’s get it started right now with this run! Turkey trot! Woohoo! And then it’s Christmas! I’m listening to Christmas music already too, screw what Carl said! But when do we stop rocking around the Christmas tree, when do we know, when to stop.. ROCKING?? Oh geez. Ok, I’ve lost it. I’m sorry.
Just as I was losing my breath, finishing the rant, I feel a tap on my shoulder. It’s Ken and Carl. Ken smiles, looks around and with arms extended declares:
“Wod bless us, every one.” (sorry I had to)
Thanks to all your support last year we were apart of Orangewood being able to distribute gifts to over 352 children and families! We will be helping them again this year so please take a look at the holiday wish list http://www.orangewoodfoundation.org/docs/OCF_Wish_List.pdf. The toy drive box will be at the front entrance tomorrow!
Thursday 11/28- CFNB Turkey Trot 9am only. We will be running from the gym down to PCH turn right and run to Orange st and turn around back to the gym.
Friday 11/29- 9am and 10am CrossFit classes only.