14. May 2016 by swissfitchick
It is said that birthdays are an ideal point in time to look back and reflect, to set new goals and create a positive lookout to the year ahead.
You know how I fly with things that are recommended or said – I usually walk away from hype or commercial activities unless it involves CrossFit. I like to do my own thing – though I must say I gave in to the police in regards to my parking spots …. after 4 tickets in one week I`ve come to accept that the power is in their hands. I hate to admit it, but it clearly is the wrong place to rebel and carry my stubborn head. “Forbidden parking spot, Ms. Pfaendler”. I merely nodded and obeyed coyly. (WHO AM I) “adulting” at its very finest. I still hate to follow rules which I don’t understand – just to be clear here – why rebelling seems to be tatooed on my genes. Sigh.
But anyway, I generally live the positivity I preach, yet I am not a huge fan of goals. In all seriousness, what’s the point in imaging my life in ten years – I have no fuckin’ clue what I`m going to be doin then`, or if i`ll even be alive – and I honestly don’t want to spend my time thinking about the future. Or the past, that is. Ain’t no one got time for regrets. Regrets are useless and the best recipe for frustration. In fact, I do set short time goals in training, work and traveling – but all those are free from a deadline. I don’t like deadlines. I don’t even like the word ‘deadline’. It’s an ugly word. I mean, who really wants to hit a deadline? That sounds just wrong and horribly morbid.
But today – almost a week after my birthday – I`m breaking this rule and looking back to my year as a 37 years old because it was an interesting one.
Because last year, I spent my 37th birthday half-naked at a pool in Las Vegas. (Insert censored naked boob pic here)
I told you it was interesting. The Cesar Palace it was, to be exact and yes, I was half-naked. It was legal … honest. Laura didn’t follow and kept her top on which, given the mood, just wasn’t right. Not right.
The rest of this birthday month was spent cruising, training and hanging around Californian beaches until I could give the Indians a run for their money with my tanned bits. I remember sitting next to an Asian guy on my way back home and he was so white, I couldn’t help but imagine him glowing in the dark. He`d`ve given Caspar a shock, no kiddin’. I’m pretty sure we looked fairly awkward next to each other. I`m still kickin` myself that I didn’t ask him for a selfie.
Right, in order to keep my work count in check, I`ll fast forward – I came back home and officially started my job at CrossFit Basel and kept up training, now that`s hardly a surprise, is it. Besides the usual training routine, I practised skills…and skills….and then … some more skills.
As we know by now, I tend to be very stubborn and dedicated if I see the end result somewhere on the horizon. And even if it takes me a year to get there, I couldn’t care less. So this year as a 37 year old, I nailed Toes to Bar, Handstand Push Ups scaled (still so bad, fuckin’ell), Handstand Hold, Handstand Walk, Butterfly Pull-Ups, scaled Bar Muscle Up and I even made some progress in my weakest of weaknesses, the Olympic Lifting.
I worked a lot and loved it. I travelled some more and loved it too. I got all the sass and some more, because on sass I roll. In fact, this week I went to a birthday party and one of the girls there, who hasn’t seen me in about 6 years couldn’t stop staring at me in awe, as she said. She remembered a skinny, quiet, anxious girl with terrible posture, cigarettes and eating fingernails and what not. I know this does not sound like me at all, but it’s the truth. I`ve never been a plain Jane, but I was clearly disordered and this completely dimmed my energy back in the day – my energy is in full force today (thanks to me, I’d appreciate a little less at times) – pimped with my recklessness, some confidence and, well, sass.
I found a balance with nutrition and training, with my body and my mind. This was the biggest step in the year of a 37 year old. During my second big trip this year – two months in California, Sydney and New Zealand – I stopped counting and measuring anything apart from the weights I lift and the reps I smash. I especially never count the glasses of wine I had, because WHY? Wine fullfills all my nutritional needs (in a perfect world…) so why bother. Plus, turning down New Zealand wine is a crime. Rhyme. But in all honesty. They really do produce some really woeful shite down there. I`d pour it on chips ahead of vinegar!
Wine always makes me digress, so ignore me. The point I was going to address is that I am physically and mentally in my best shape ever. You might have figured that posts about food have become way less frequent than they used to be, and the only reason is that I don’t give that much of a shit no more – plus I simply forget – sometimes to eat, or sometimes WHAT I ate. Must be age or dementia … or both. I love food and I eat healthy and whole foods whenever possible, but I eat when I am hungry and I don’t eat when I’m not. I follow my body’s signals, which works 90% of the time. I don’t know my bodyweight and I don’t care. Going by my clothes, I am the same size for almost two years and it’s a shape and size I feel great with – especially at the age of 38. Since listening to my body and stopping obsessing over food and training, I have no overtraining issues, no stomach pain, no frustration and no relapses anymore. Self Five.
In the year of a 37 years old, I was shunned by a few critics/enviers who somehow didn’t seem to like the way I live – not that it would affect their lives or be any of their business, yet they obviously felt the need to let me know how immature and inefficient my unconventional way of life was. Cool bananas, I continue to live careless and immature. Sorry … um NOT.
In the life of a 38 year old, I`m not changing the things that`ve worked so far – not one iota. I`ll continue to take care of my loved ones, because they deserve everything – following truly and faithfully along my strange and crazy shenanigans throughout all those years. That’s a real effort, Babes. I ain’t no joke. And I can say that I get to call some of the most amazing, smart, brilliant, funny and fantastic people from all over the world my friends.
In the life of a 38 year old, I`ll keep chasing the path of training and doing some competitions along the way, just when I feel like it.
In the life of a 38 year old I`ll live out my passions and improve my skills in photography and writing.
In the year of a 38 year old, I`ll buy the racing car that raves under my booty currently, I will take on a permanent job in social work – one I always wanted – and travel some more. Traveling always, everywhere.
In the year of a 38 year old I`ll eat good food, drink high quality wine, whine a little, party a lot, snowboarding even more, and collapsing in laughter as much as possible. I will live by the quote that opportunities only dance with those already on the dancefloor. So, let’s dance.
Are you joining me?