Rogue I on the Route 66. Or: We're going on an adventure

Where did I leave you? Right, on my flight to Vegas. We arrived 40 minutes ahead of sxhedule and got to our car rental early. Funny thing though; at Hertz, you don't get to talk to the nice real life people at the counter, no, you have to get to a service point and phone their customer service via a very skype-esk connection. Then you get a car you didn't want in the first place, but end up loving as soon as you get in. I love "my" Nissan Rogue. I loved it right away, I gave the dark grey car the name "Rogue I" and felt pretty clever. 

Getting into town without a navigational system (because honestly, 150 quid in the time of google maps?!?) was a little harder than I thought, but easier than it felt. We found our just off-strip hotel all right and checked in, to meet up later and go see Vegas at night. Which was...scary to be quite honest. I've rarely seen so many people in one place and I didn't care for it either. Also, homeless people everywhere, heat as hell, and total sensual overload. Music is being blared at you from all sides, people run into you, smell badly, and lights and screens and ada everywhere. We ended up seeing a short part of the strip and watching the Bellagio fountain show, then went back to the hotel. It had been a long day after all, starting at the other half of the continent and such. Vegas felt like a theme park gone wrong.

The next morning I actually got up at 5:15 am to get to Crossfit Max Effort, where I realised that my cold wasn't quite as over as I'd have liked it to be, we did a lot of volume and I had to shift down a gear to baby my cardiovascular system. But I got a few good pointers on the kettlebell swing and my push presses. As well as my jerk technique so it was totally worth it. Afterwards, I meant to leave right away so we could get breakfast quickly, but got held up by a nice conversation with one of the regulars, who told me how he came to Vegas from a small town in Missouri and what kind of cultural shock it had been. Then we got to talking about politics, especially the upcoming elections in America. It was quite interesting to get an Americans view on the matter, because there's a bunch of things you really just don't get from a European perspective. Then home, quick shower, breakfast, and off to see a little Vegas. We went through most of the popular hotels, gambled away in some of the casinos, rode the rollercoaster at the New York, New York, bought some MGM Grand merch, and stared in wonder at the replica of a mediterranean city in the Forum shops. It was a frigging 40 degrees celsius out and we were happy to spend time indoors.

Around four in the afternoon we made off to Williams, Arizona, where our motel would be and we arrived there after admiring the Hoover Dam and Lake Meat, the old Route 66 and life on the American highways. In Williams, all that was left to do was go to sleep and be happy we didn't have to see Vegas again. 

And then the Grand Canyon. We spent most of our day there, just staring at this wonder of nature from different vantage points.

This is The Abyss:

Things that only happen to you when visiting the Grand Canyon:

- sitting next to a child called 'Jedi'

- the bus driver announcing "Please be sure to take all of your belongings with you when you get off the bus. This is...The Abyss" in a horror movie voice. 

I'd love to say a lot about the Grand Canyon, because I gathered some experiences to last me for a lifetime, but the thing is: you can't put this feeling into words. You can't capture those vistas in a photograph. You can try, but you will always fail. There's just no words for it. Let's just say, looking at the Grand Canyon makes you understand why people here believed in Mother Earth, why they believed in higher spirits, in something that has created landscapes like this.

You feel incredibly small and meaningless and at the same time like part of something that's bigger than you. As I said, words are insufficient, but at least I tried.

The next morning, we were supposed to leave for LA via the old Route 66, but...we only got as far as Seligman, AZ until our motor started sputtering and complaining that there wasn't enough oil pressure. So, off to the Shell at Seligman, I-40, ramp 123, to buy some oil. Which is when we discovered that the guy who had done the basic maintenance for our car had obviously forgotten to screw the oil tank cap back on, as it was neatly stowed away next to the cooling system. But not where it belonged. The whole motor block had been drenched in oil for three days and basically we were lucky nothing more had happened. Except that our Route 66 trip became a real adventure. We called Hertz and they sent a tow truck to come and get us back into the next big city. Which happened to be... Vegas, never-come-back city. Now at 42 degrees and about a two hour detour. I had to name the car "Rogue I", implying that there'd be a "Rogue II". Rogue II is jet black and even bigger than Rogue I, same model, but more perks. Love it. Though the detour still sucked.

BUT: we met so many nice people in Seligman. If you ever go to the Grand Canyon, stop at the Shelll station there. People there restored my faith in humanity. They let us use their phones, hang around the gas station, tried to calm us down, tried to help us where they could, wanted to try and clean out our motor block themselves. We met a Mexican that had been parked there by his girlfriend and her mother, and who was waiting for them to come fetch him, shaving his head, talking about the weather. Our tow truck driver was the kindest guy, he even saw to it that we really got a new car, when there was some slight communication error. And then, suddenly, we were on our way to LA, driving through the Mojave desert, down the mountains and toward the City of Angels. Dusk in these mountains was beautiful. Longwinding roads and hilltops gleaming in all the colours of sundown, the view down into the bowl LA is located in. I loved every minute of the drive. And then there we were. At the end of the Route 66, Santa Monica Boulevard. We found a hotel right away and turned in pretty soon after that, because boy, were we tired. But we made it. The second part of our trip was done. Now we are at the West Coast. California.

Go West

So, the last few days have gone by so quickly and so much has happened that I just couldn't find the time to do anything more than traipse around New York, Philadelphia, and Washington D.C. (Da Capital, right?) just to fall into bed entirely exhausted. 

I got to know the Atlantic intimately, discovered my favourite place in New York, got kidnapped by a subway train, found out that the latest fashion in Philly are towels, and realised at the Lincoln Memorial that the Mall is longer than it looked at the map and that there is no subway line going from there to Union Station. Now the East Coast leg of our "road trip" aka the "Steven Grant Rogers and James Buchanan Barnes" -tour is done and over, now we're off to do the Great American Roadtrip-part.

On our first day together in New York, we did everything we had planned and more. We took a ferry to see the Statue of Liberty and Elli's Island, afterwards we walked a little way along the Broadway, saw the 9/11 memorial, got asked by a few businessmen to show them the pictures I had taken (because I took a few of the Freedom Tower lying on the floor of the new World Trade Center to get a good shot). Then on with the Subway toward the Highline which was incredibly cool. Walking through Manhattan on a discontinued highline train track partly on my bare feet was an experience I wouldn't wanna miss.

 Then we checked out Grand Central Station and fell into our beds. 

The next morning started off by seeing two friends from Finland at Crossfit Hell's Kitchen and a great WOD. Then brekkie and off we went in our different directions. My mom went to hang in Central Park, my brother went to see the Yankee Stadium and ....I should have listened to him more closely. Oh, right, he made it to Brooklyn, but not Queens and toured MSG. I myself took the train through old and partly creepy subway stations all the way out to Coney Island.

And boy, was it great to see a horizon again. Or at least one that wasn't lined with skyscrapers on each side. Also, as old and shabby as it seemed in some parts, you could still see how much it was loved, especially the board walk and the beach were so well cared for. And oh, the beach. The scent of salt water and a fresh breeze as opposed to the scent of a million people in a space too small. I initially wanted to just cool my aching feet, but all it took was one rogue wave to drench my up to my belly button. But it was cool, in 34 degree (Celsius) weather, my clothes dried soon enough. Afterwards I walked down the boardwalk, watched the Cyclone and thought how unreal it was that this stuff was there even before WWII, how (though fictional) Steve and Bucky have supposedly walked the boardwalk and ate hot dogs and rode the oldest rollercoaster in the US. I might have gotten too attached to those two fictional characters by the way.  Then I took the train into the heart of Brooklyn and fell in love with the place even more. Brooklyn is so relaxed in comparison to Manhattan. But back there I went and walked up Broadway to get to Strala Yoga, where I finally got to take part in a class led by Tara Stiles, the woman getting me back into yoga after I had dismissed it as strange and uncomfortable.

Tara was great and her husband so nice, I wished I would have had more opportunities to train with them. But they are coming to Berlin in February and hopefully I can make it. Back on the street feeling relaxed, calm, and incredibly happy and blessed, I took the subway and I carefully planned to get off at 72nd street. But the train didn't stop. It didn't stop at the next stop either. Or the one after that. It took me a while to figure out I had accidentally boarded an express train  that only stopped at selected stations. So, somewhere in Harlem I got off and waited for the next local train back to Central Park. After seeing the Met, Starwberry Fields (sadly no strawberries, just creepy Beatles-fans), Alice, Bethesda's Terrace, Balto, and the carnival, I left to meet up with my fellow travellers to eat dinner in SoHo. But there were no restaurants in SoHo (or at least not where we were looking), so we ended up in Little Italy. And fell into bed, tummies and hearts filled with good food and new experiences. 

Saturday had me waking up at the asscrack of dawn. And I couldn't fall back asleep. So, what did I do? I took the train to Brooklyn and wandered around some of the neighbourhoods there. Loved Dumbo (down under Manhattan Bridge Overpass), loved the old houses, cobbled streets, famous bridges, and the smell of Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes (yes, again).

Then my cousin visited with her family, which was slightly chaotic, but one of the highlights of New York. We couldn't even remember when we had last seen her, and we had never met her family. We found out that there is an incredibly great food court in the basement of the Plaza Hotel at the corner of Central Park, but unfortunately it had far too few seating areas to house us as well as the bunch of other people. Anyhow, if you're in New York and you need something to eat, try there, most of the food looked incredibly, mouthwateringly delicious. 

After they left, we decided to do as all tourists do and engage in some heavy shopping. Which, in my case was more like "Ugh, no. Hell, no. What are they thinking? Who pays that much for...? I should just get the stuff my friends asked me to bring back for them and leave it at that." I was in shopping paradise and found myself overwhelmed. Until I found a Barnes & Noble, which made me overexcited and cost me the better part of two hours. :D

Sunday saw us packing, spending the last morning at our beloved breakfast diner Andrew's (if you're in a pickle to find good breakfast food in Manhattan, see Andrew's. If you're really lucky, Carmen will be your server. Try the omelettes or the pancakes, they spell Diner charme, also fresh fruit, a whole selection of muffins and bagels, oatmeal...everything American sprinkled with a little bacon and maple syrup), and hurrying to the train to Philadelphia. Where everybody has apparently read the classic "Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy", as everybody and their mother seems to be carrying a towel. Stylishly dressed black guys with a towel in their backpockets. Or around their neck. Anywho, we took our time understanding the subway system (they don't have fare cards but coins you put into the turnstyles) and then drove out to see Liberty Park with the Liberty Bell and one of the four (?) original copies of the Declaration of Independence. I pulled a Nicolas Cage and took a copy with me (watch the Nicolas Cage movie...what was the English name again...something with a Treasure and the Knights Templar, if you don't get it ;)). We also saw a lot of old houses and city halls and council halls. However, whenever we people of Berlin feel bad about our BER-airport, remember they tried to fix a crack in the Liberty Bell by drilling it even wider. Which made the bell defunct. If only they'd have had duct-tape back then. ;P

We had to have a Philly Cheese Steak of course, which was everything I shouldn't eat, but tasted so great, I didn't care. For real, I bet the cheese on there had never seen a cow and the meat was a heart attack waiting to happen, but dude, did it taste amazing. Then back into the subway and back to the station, having somebody tell me that they had a great day until they saw my Patriots hat and somebody else tell me they ruled, and then boarding the next train to Washington D.C., where we had to close our dropped chins manually, as we entered the main hall of the station. The DC station might well be the prettiest station I've seen in my life this far. Okay, I admit, the impression might have been helped by the fact that a small choir of girls where singing classical music in there, making it sound like we were in our very own movie just entering some grand palace or something. Such goosebumps, such excitement. When we stepped out the doors, we had to pick up our jaws again when we had a great view onto the Capitol in the waning light of dusk. What kind of city was this? 

The next morning, I did as I had planned and went down to the National Mall to jog the same route Steve did in Winter Soldier (I know, I'm a little geeking out here, but I wanted to go jog anyway and why not there). So there I was jogging down the mall and realising at some point that holy cow on a cracker, this thing is so much bigger than it looks on the map. I reached the WWII memorial and the reflecting pond eventually, only at that point I was already so exhausted, I was unable to run by anybody to say "on your left". Then one last stair sprint up the Lincoln memorial and there I stood in front of a larger than life Abe in the morning light. One of the most awe-inspiring things I've seen. Not the memorial itself, but this interaction between sunlight and white marble, the acoustics in there, the view along the mall across to Washington Monument and the Capitol, sunrise... I took my time taking it all in and made my way to the Potomac. Then I half jogged half walked back to the hotel. All in all a 10k trip.

I might have forgotten to mention that we were in Washington on Memorial Day. By accident. A lucky one, though. We took a bus trip around some memorials, went down the mall, had patriotic ice cream, handstand walked in front of Washington Monument, went down to the White House, watched the Memorial Day Parade with Buzz frigging Aldrin and Gary Sinise. Then there was a minor accident that held the parade, so we visited the Smithsonian (another part of the Steven Grant Rogers and James Buchanan Barnes tour, and then drove out to Arlington National Cemetary where we paid our respects to JFK and watched the changing of the guard at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier. It is strange to see with how much respect Americans treat their military when you see the way military has been and is treated in Germany. You get such a deep sense of gratitude-vibe from most people and there is so many people with friends and family in the military. It's so different from the way we handle all things patriotism and military in Europe. Especially in Germany.

From there we went on to the Pentagon and then had some of the greatest burgers to ever burger (hadn't eaten anything since breakfast) at Johnny Rockets in the station basement. My brovver and I went on a late night photo op trip after we watched some wrestling and basketball on tv.

Then bed and a visit to the front side of the White House this morning. Now I'm sitting here on board a Southwestern Airlines flight to Las Vegas and am unable to sleep. We get our rental car at the airport, then off to our hotel and into the Vegas nightlife. And - if my nice little cold allows - Crossfit in the morning. I feel like I've been in the US for a month rather than a week. But that's probably just all those new impressions and experiences. I'd have never thought something I knew so well from the motion pictures would look, sound, smell, and feel so differently in real life.

Crashing the Grad Ceremony at Harvard. And: Who's moving to Boston with me?!?

Crashing the Grad Party at Harvard. And: who's moving to Boston with me?!?

May 24th "Nice shirt, Bar Wars, why'd you get it though?" "I do Crossfit, the bar bell, you know?" "Ah, I thought bar like a bar" "Nah, I'm German, that kinda Bar Wars would be more of an Irish thing to do"

Crossfit, Harvard, and more Clam Chowder. This morning, I dropped in at Brick Boston and did some Crossfit. Funny thing though, you walk through those skyscraper canyons looking for the box and suddenly you see a set of stairs leading down into a bunker. In a city where everything goes up, you are going down. The only thing going up down there where wallballs. And bar bells. On my way back home, I took a short detour through Chinatown, which was mostly impressive because it was pretty dirty, something that felt strange in an otherwise rather clean city.

Then we had breakfast at "Stephanie's on Newbury", a great café, with an amazing breakfast list. And helpful staff; the waiter told us to take the bus to Harvard instead of taking the metro from Park Street, which would have meant a 45min trip. Off we went to Fenway Park where the Sox have their home stadium, but unfortunately it was a 10 quid entrance fee, which just wasn't worth it on a day where we had not much time anyway. So, back to Mass Ave and into bus no 1 and to Harvard we went, The Todster and I at least, me mum went somewhere...everywhere downtown.

In Harvard, we were a little surprised by the nice welcoming we got, banners and flags everywhere, marching music, pomp and circumstance. It was graduation day and everywhere were people hanging in black robes strewn across the deep green lawns in between the red brick buildings. A pity though that we could not enter Widener Library, but I finally went to an ivy league school (though there was surprisingly few ivy ranks to be seen). The Todster went on his way to MIT and I just crossed the street to get to The Harvard Bookstore. Where I lost about an hour. Used, discounted and just books from all type, kinds, and genres. And graphic novels. So, I went to The Harvard Bookstore and left with the Hawkeye-Comic-collection. I'm a nerd of several degrees. :D

The Harvard Bookstore tread loose a short shopping-trippy experience only to be stopped when I reached Boston Public Library. Where I got in. Oh, the smell of old books, dark wooden bookcases, and the green-shades brass lamps in the reading room. It was everything you've ever imagined a library to be. Plus, it had those amazingly creepy Christian and Freemason paintings and murals that were incredibly great. And books. So many books!

I left for Jack Wills on Newbury Street. Why do I tell you about my visit to the store of a British clothing brand I happen to love? Because! The store was located in an old brownstone and as usual with Jack Wills stores, the store had kept its interior like it was still a house. The furniture made it look more than a house than a store (well, almost) and I got a great impression of what a brownstone looks like from the inside. I want to move into one of those Back Bay brownstones btw. :D

After a short chat with the shop girl, I had to get back to Faneuil Hall to meet the rest of the crew for dinner. Clam chowder again. I could live off that stuff. I love it. I really do. The Todster bought a 5 quid Magnum (ice cream), which now serves as a measurement in how overpriced something is. Like the 7 dollar Espresso me mum got when she ordered a Latte Macchiato at our hotel bar. Almost a bargain, right? 

May 25th

"Welcome to New York, it's been waiting for you"

The last day in Boston started with me running the Boston Harbour Walk. I'm glad I did not skip this, because the skyline was just incredible.

And there's something to be said about the great feeling you get where your heart is almost bursting with joy while you're running over a board walk at the Atlantic looking at the Boston skyline listening to Carrie Underwoods 'Some Hearts'

Some hearts just get lucky sometimes, yes indeed, I can't put into words how great that felt. Then the last time returning to our hotel through Boston Public and the last breakfast at Stephanie's where John, our waiter, did everything he could to make us feel good. Including goofy hot chocolate jokes. 

Then we almost got escorted to the metro by our page boy, who was now - finally - pleased with the baseball hat I was wearing while the White Sox are safely stowed away in my suitcase. The lady at the reception told me that "no need to spoil that head with a Yankee's cap, keep the Pats hat on" and "yes, we people in Boston do take our sports teams real serious" 

Now we're sitting in the Amtrak train to Penn Station in New York which takes us through the most amazing New England landscapes, the Atlantic on our left. Let's see how New York will be treating us.

A little while later:
I don't hate New York, but I don't feel it. People everywhere and cars everywhere in between. Everybody's noisy and busy and doing theit thing, nevermind other people.  Times Square felt like too many people in a space too small. Like an open air clown car joke. Also, most of Manhattan smells of puss,  smoke, sweat, and burnt food.  We found a small organic food place that had great food (except for in my mum's opinion, wasn't her thing) and was just an oasis of quiet as there were only two other customers. From there we continued through Macy's (what a confusing place) to the Rockefeller Center, where we had a great view of New York at night. It looked amazing. Like a comic book at times, like Christmas lights in the woods at others. It felt a little better already.

May 26th: The Devil of Hell's Kitchen

Dropped in at Crossfit Hell's Kitchen this morning, at 6am. I thought getting up at 5 would be bad, but in a city already starting to get ready and put on its make up for the upcoming day, it's really easy. And...suddenly I felt New York. I loved the New York morning. And I love the Crossfit community. Having people to really talk to even though you've never met before was great and made me feel right at home. Anthony, the owner, overslept, but the talking during the wait made you feel the sense of community even more. And he was nice enough to still let me work out with them even though my original time slot was over. He was cool. My training partner Alex ruled, too. She pushed me where I needed a little shove and got me a new bench press PR.
Perfect morning. Now off for some sightseeing

Late night alarms and Freedom trails

Boston, May 23rd

"I'm only here because I need to use google-maps and your free wi-fi"

So, at 3am there was some kind of fire alarm drill going down. And after that I was wide awake, because according to my internal clock, well it was time to get up. But I turned ariund and get some more shut-eye. Didn't work, though, so at 5 I gave up, gave in, got up, and got out to go for a morning run.

This city is frickin' beautiful. And it has pet-able squirrels. And Canada geese. And a bay and a skyline and one of the greatest running trails ever. I just ran where my feet took me and sure thing, got myself lost somewhere around Beacon Hill. But hey, there's a Starbucks, so after using the complementary wi-fi and getting in some caffeine, I made my way home through roads winding up hills with those emergency stairways on old brownstones you, or rather I, only knew from the motion pictures until now. And oh, Boston is so pretty during dawn. I might just be in love.

 We followed the Red Brick Road like Dorothy her yellow one, when we discovered the 4km Freedom Trail for most of today, and went on a few side quests as well. I might just love this city. It's pretty, the people are relaxed, friendly, and down to earth, and...living in a city without clam chowdah seems like a waste. There's so much history here, interwoven with the modern glass and steel skyscrapers, it's fascinating and exhilarating. We stood in places Ben Franklin and Samuel Adams stood, we rode with Paul Revere from his house to the Old North Church, we watched the USS Constitution, we did all the touristy stuff. Market Halls weren't safe and oh, I actually made a cashier at 7Eleven laugh pretty hard, when I told him, I had to get all the sweets I have ever seen in Hollywood movies - and the Gilmore Girls - and couldn't get in Europe. By the way, Twinkies and Ho-hos...so not worth the acid reflux. :D

Our hotel really is located in a really fancy-pants neighborhood, as we got a Tiffany's in the lobby, Hermés, Dolce, Chanel, Cartier, and Burberry right next to us, across the street are the Boston Public Gardens. And a little down the road there's the Prudential Tower. The only bad news today was the fact that you can't get to Foxboro via public transport, except for game days. And I don't have the time to find a car rental and start bargaining. But, yeah, it's been a great day with a lotta laughs and even more sun burn. The Atlantic smells great and the sun was shining most of the time, what more could you wish for on your first real day of vacation? :)

Ain't no party like a Boston Party

May 22nd: SFX-Gatwick-Boston

"Could you please remove your baseball hat and put it in the tray?" "I'm wearing a baseball hat?!?" I'm a mess :D 

Ugh, connecting flights suck, if no one gives you a heads up that you got a second security check and have to throw the overpriced bottle of water you just bought after the first security check into the bin during the second check. Otherwise, our stop at Gatwick was grand; all the ads for London sights, the Queen murals, Pret-A-Manger, Jack Wills, Boots, and Soap&Glory. Long live the Olde World. Brilliant thing actually, as I have missed London quite a bit these last couple months. Now this has been relieved a little as well. Also: really excited for Boston already.

Norwegian Air is bloody brilliant! The flight crew is extremely nice and went out of their way to accommodate  some of our wishes and there's this one steward who has cheekbones you could cut yourself on. Looking pretty sharp over there, despite the funny socks ;) Also the food...was amazing. Tasted real good and we got Belgian Chocolate Cake as a dessert. Plus, free coffee refills.

Also, we got the seats with the most leg space in da house (well, plane). Even if I'm slouching real bad, I can't reach the wall in front of me.

Okay, I can, with my tippy toes, but it's a stretch. Right now, I'm like an excited labrador retriever with a tennis ball in this plane with the entertainment centre and all. Only drawback: someone in the vicinity has smelly feet. :D 

3:22 hours to Boston. I'm so excited, and I just can't hide it! 

Boston Public Transport is incredibly funny, that is, if you're not tired out and totally fed up with travelling. ;) The carts seem like museum inventory and the stations are a mess compared to Berlin and London underground. On the other hand, it is supposedly the oldest of its kind, so...yeah. Interesting experience. And then we also ended up in a friggin' luxury hotel. I felt so out of place rolling into the lobby in my sweat pants :D

But yeah, we're here, tired, and prolly going to bed anytime soon. It looks pretty American over here. And the guy from room service just told me, I was wearing the wrong hat, it's the Boston RED Sox, the White Sox are from Chicago. Yeah, I know, but my other baseball hats are New York Yankees caps and that would be worse. He agreed :D 

Experience gained: The Weight-cut

So, I was set to have an MMA-competition last weekend, as a bantam weight. For those of you, who don't know what that means: in MMA, as in most other martial arts, there are different weight classes, so the competitors stay comparable and none has an unfair strength- or weight-advantage on the others. In MMA the weight classes go something like 105lbs. (atom weight), 115lbs.(straw), 125lbs.(fly), 135lbs.(bantam), 145lbs.(feather), and so on, with the most common weight classes for women being bantam weight at 135lbs. or 62,1kg and feather weight at 145lbs. or 65,8kg. One of my best friends and trainings partners has already been competing at feather weight, plus she is taller than me, so I got stuck with bantam. 

What I mean by that is: you have to be as light as possible with as little fat and as much muscle as possible to have a better chance at winning. When I moved back to Germany after a stressful summer and loads of ice cream in Finland, I weighed 73,4kg on my worst day. Basically I was at about 72kg. But let me tell you, that wasn't muscle. That was ice cream. And chocolate. And burgers. But it was not muscle.

 

Me in October 2015, at about 69kg

So, I had to slim down. I thought feather, but then my friend told me, she was doing feather. I had six months to get rid of the sh**. So, I started a sustainable diet at first, to get my body fat percentage down as well as my weight. Which worked quite well, up to the point where I started doing Crossfit on a regular basis. While my body composition continued to shift in the right direction, my weight loss was stalling, came to a full stop by Christmas and after that went into the wrong direction. I was gaining weight. Something they call "gains" or "gainz", you know. I thought I wasn't even eating enough to get any gains, but. I was wrong. 

By the end of January, I started getting nervous, because while my weight didn't go up any longer (I was at 66kg at that time), it didn't go down either. I had a talk with my Crossfit coach, who is also a former MMA competitor and has some experience in the field. He told me to eat normal, so my body doesn't shut down or slow down my metabolism, but to switch one meal a day with a salad. No fat, no carbs, just salad, veggies, and lean protein (no cheese). Also, it would be smart to do that in the evening, so the hunger strikes at night. 

I did as I was told and dropped another 2,5kg until the beginning of March. So, by March 3rd, I was at 63,5kg, plus/minus 500-800g, depending on the number of carbs I had eaten the day before and how much I drank the day before.

A week out, I ate no more starchy carbs, no candy, reduced salt and started drinking like my life depended on it. I followed a diet plan that was loosely based on paleo. Five days out, I stopped having dairy. Three days out, I stopped eating salt and started reducing the water intake. I was at 62,6kg at that point. So, I had to make weight until Friday evening. On Thursday, I had a small breakfast consisting of fruit and a protein shake. I had one glass of water. And I started the sweating: I put on a sweat suit (non-breathable material) and did a 60min work out. Afterwards, I was already a little lighter. And light headed. At four in the afternoon, I had a small packet of low fat quark and a handful of oats (because protein and fibre, and Thursday didn't count into the diet plan anymore), and went to the gym. I put on three layers of clothing (one Nike Dry longsleeve, the sweat suit, a thick sweat shirt) and smashed a Body Combat -class. I don't even know anymore on what energy I did this, but I had the time of my life. After that it was into the sauna, then I had 150ml of water. I was weighing 61,9kg.

            

After Combat and sauna at 61,9kg

In the morning I did something, that my training mate's mom had said and that my dad had tried for different purposes; I took some Glauber salt. For those of you, who don't know what that is, it is a salt that is not being absorbed by the body, but stays in the intestines, where it draws water from the surrounding tissue until your intestines are basically flushed threw. So, it helps you dehydrate even more. Which was pretty bad, as I already felt a little light headed from dehydration the night before. My dad knew what's up the whole time, and kept an eye on me. After that went down, I was at 60,1kg. Which meant I got to drink a little apple juice ( I hadn't eaten anything since Thursday 4pm, right). Then we went and met up with the crew to make the 6 hour drive down to the competition location. Funny thing, though, our scale at home is off by 800g, so after having some coffee and some water (as I thought, I had a buffer from about 1kg), I was just so and so 61,2kg.

Friday morning at 61,1kg

And that was when we tried the old Swedish credit card trick (because my friend and trainings partner was still 600g over as well): sit in the sauna, scrape off the sweat with a credit card, repeat until you made weight. I don't have to tell you, how bad it felt to squeeze the last few drops of sweat out of our bodies. Those last few grams really were the hardest and respect to everyone who does these weight-cuts on a regular basis (and partly with a more significant weight difference). 

But before you think that this is a great way to prepare for THE party of the year or some big event with a great dress, I want to remind you that I had the help and support of three trainers who've done this routine before and a friend who supported me through this, who has been doing this since she was a kid. They knew what they were doing and had I showed any worrisome signs of dehydration, they would have known exactly what to do. So, what I mean to say is: DON'T DO THIS AT HOME!!!! 

Because this whole weight cut thing is not only physically challenging, but also mentally exhausting. I was so tired most of the time and as soon as I was free to eat whatever the heck I wanted, I ate myself through everything I found for a whole week. This is no way to lose weight, which is why it is called weight cut. You cut it out for a week and it comes back, and let me tell you, it does bring friends. 

Without the support I got, I would not have been able to do this, either. Because you want to give up and give in and just eat most of the time. You never even realise how much our culture revolves around food and drink, how often they are mentioned on tv, in magazines, etc. Also, you are desperate, tired, angry, aggressive, depressed, cold, hungry, miserable, exhausted and dizzy. There is a point at which you get into a flow and it doesn't affect you as much, but then it hits you again. Frustration and irritability. Hunger, cold and thirst. It's not fun. Cutting weight is a gruelling process and I honestly wish, I will never have to do this again. Which is why I will now go back to my sustainable diet (diet in the sense of nutrition plan, not cutting calories) to further this process of shifting body composition and losing weight the healthy way. So, the next time you'll see me in a competition, I will not have gone through this horror again. 

Becoming a Group fitness instructor

I recently started on a journey that could become a quite interesting one; I went through the initial training for Les Mills Body Combat. Now I am allowed to call myself Group Fitness Instructor and stand on stage screaming at people. While moving myself to the beat of the music in the choreographed way. Because this instructor thing? It's not as easy as it looks. 
In the course of the initial training, you get to know the key elements to being a good instructor, but our trainer did not want us to become good, he wanted us to aspire to being World class instructors. However, it's gonna be a long way to World class. First off, there's more elements than you'd probably think.
You got to know and master your technique to set a good example. Then you have to know your choreo to get people moving. You need to know how, when, and what to coach. Make use of your voice. And perform your heart out. Because yes, it is a performance meant to physically move your class as well as entertain them. But that also means your sports performance; you can't hold back on stage. You gotta go the full hog, because only about 60-80% of your intensity reaches your class. If you perform at 60%, your class performs at 40% the most. Gotta go all in. And you know what? Going at 100% for 50min is incredibly exhausting. 
Now that I have been standing in front of a few classes, I have noticed, though, that you get so much positive energy back from a happy class that you really don't even think about reducing speed. 

Back to initial training. We had a whole weekend filled with 6-8 hours sports and instructing. It was hard, but rewarding, and as a group we grew together and it felt like we'd known each other for years and not mere days afterwards. This is where Les Mills' tribe idea comes through, and I for one would love to pass this on to my classes. 
After the weekend, I had to show our group fitness coordinator what I had learned and she gave me a pass as a shadow. With the old choreo still running, I couldn't have done anything else really, but now I got to speak on stage as well. I am allowed to instruct one track until I feel real comfy up there. Well, I am ecstatic to be on stage, but I still have these moments where I get overwhelmed by all the multitasking. So, it's going to be a while. But I already got some great feedback about my stage presence and movement, I have to put in some work into letting go and not trying to hide behind my team teach partner, though. 

Let's see how this pans out, but I'm happy as a clam.