Given a radical solution to the illnesses of one’s loved ones, should not one explore said solution with an open and critical mind? Ought not one investigate the proposition with all rigour involved in verifying or debunking a hypothesis to draw a sound conclusion regarding the integrity of the solution? Is it not one’s responsibility as an intelligent, sentient, rational being to question information offered by any source in light of not only the veracity of the source but also the fundamental logic of the proposition? Should one lack such time as is necessary to excavate the basis of said solution, should not one then find more credibility in the knowledge explored by those one trusts, respects and acknowledges, nay, acclaims publicly, is perspicacious rather than information propagated and propagandised by faceless entities of the lying media? Should one decide to forgo the logical evaluation urged above, should not one at the very least loose the loved in question to assess for themselves the possible effectiveness of the offered solution?
Coals of concern are set afire by rage as I observe the slow rot of a child’s body and character whose soul once shone so bright. This was a boy who did his chores at three, now unable to even clear the plates from a dinner table without a huff, a puff, or a whine. This was a boy of insight beyond the oldest wisest yoda, now unwilling to understand the poison of the junk he consumes, body and mind, without unforced pause. This was a boy who welcomed frigid walks and hours of playing building, creating, now pronouncing reality to be “too much work.” Sabouteur, before he is his own, begone or quit your treachery.
Of whom do I write? One in particular, but one over which my degree of influence is laughable.
I ask myself the same questions.
My “loved one,” though, is me, in light of the person I can be.
MRCS sat me down for a heart to heart Thursday evening. He discussed rest; he discussed recovery; he discussed my development and potential as an athlete. He told me I was ruining myself, and he told me to stop.
He also gave me a hug. MRCS is the best coach I’ve ever had.
This news was not exactly new. Chrss told me I was in for bad cookies when he saw me working my shoulder before Oly class. Bruce Lee made me write “hard is easy, smart is hard” 10 times in my best penmanship. A tells me, constantly, to take it easy, to be careful, to listen to what my body is telling me. I was trying to be good, to be my best; but the method will not work.
So, I will take care of my shoulder. I will stop WODing and Oly-class-ing on the same day. I will be patient with my progress.
I will also practice my snatch technique with the PVC. I will mobilize relentlessly. I will get into a balanced inversion like the cool yoga-people on instagram. I will farm for tension with perseverance and a fine-tuned strength. I will be part of an awesome family. I will be a great boomer-mom. I will also be a CrossFitter, and one who tries as hard as she can, but who does not self-saboutage. The last part is mostly because of the awesome gym called Trident CrossFit.
On a completely unrelated note, Anthropologie’s Here & There Animal tee in Fox Print is sold out. I coveted it so.