For a bargain price of $75, you can order a money lei that has $30 worth of flowers on it. Nailed it!

I haven’t written since March. The biggest reason was because something with my wordpress was messed up and I don’t possess the patience or the skills (in that order) to fix it. But the hot, hunky, hubs does and he fixed it this morning before taking off for the week. And boy howdy, aren’t you lucky because I have a LOT OF FUCKING THINGS TO SAY! I mean, probably not but at least I have options.

I have to dig pretty deep to remember what I was doing in March. If I look back at my last blog post, it seems that I was being annoyed by snowflakes who think they deserve shit based merely on the fact that they exist. Still annoying. I was upset at the continued practice of men taking over women’s sports and being labeled as courageous. Still am but the issue has gained traction which means the general public has become involved and, well, you can guess where that goes. It goes to jokes and misunderstanding and the idiotic, “well just make another class” argument (as if you’re the first person who thought of this?!) which is the equivalent of saying, “we should just pay off your student loans.” First, where does the extra money come from? Fucking duh. Second, and most importantly, to bring up the additional class of athletes in competition completely distracts from the original issue that BOYS AND MEN SHOULD NOT BE COMPETING IN GIRLS AND WOMENS CLASSES!  Keeping the general public focused on an issue is nearly impossible these days and I don’t possess the patience to try. If you believe boys and men should be able to compete and win in girls and womens athletic competitions merely because they “identify” as something else, you’re wrong. There. Issue resolved.

In March, reality started setting in that the Oz man was heading off to basic training in a few short months. Yowzer. So frequent trip to Minneapolis became the norm and from March to June, I was driving up on an average of every other weekend. It became a grind and by mid-June when the weekend finally came for him to leave, I was exhausted. His shipping out came down to the wire with his final tape test (the little man had gained some Minnesota winter fluff and worked his ass off his final month to go on time. I’m so incredibly proud) and when his girlfriend arrived at my hotel to go over to the final swearing in she asked, “When will we know if he passed his tape test” in which I replied the most important lesson of an Army mom, ever, “If he hadn’t passed, we’d know by now. No news is good news.”

Army Mom 101: Smile. Your recruit has been seeking your reassuring smile their whole life, the day they’re shipping out is possibly the most important reassuring smile you can give them. Also, NO NEWS IS GOOD NEWS. Live it.

Walking into a room with 20 or so recruits leaving and family members was a bit overwhelming because mom’s were already crying and we had over an hour to go before goodbye’s were necessary. I didn’t know what to expect when we connected with Oz but his huge smiles and excitement were contagious and it was literally impossible for me to be sad. He was ready. And if he’s ready, I’m ready. After all, he’s the one doing the work. I just get to sit home and train and be hungry.

On that note…

The best French Toast I’ve ever had was in Kenosha at Frank’s diner. I had ordered it with my omelette and Matt had ordered a pancake with his. When they came, Matt kept telling me how good it looked and hinting around for a taste. I said it was the best french toast I’ve ever had. Yes, he wanted some (even a little bite.) No, he didn’t get any (sharing is for chumps.)

Sandwiched in the spring was Masters Nationals in Salt Lake City. More on that later but one thing I walked away with was the knowledge that I had to cut to a different weight class to be competitive. I still hadn’t been able to hit a solid squatting program due to tendonitis from getting overtrained last fall (when your instinct disagrees with your programming and you’ve spoke up enough times to understand your coach isn’t listening to you, break up with said coach before you drive yourself into the ground. I didn’t do that or at the very least, I waited too long. Never again. I am just now back to squatting pain free and feeling good. It took 8 months. Fok.)

So April showers brought the beginning of a 40 pound cut. Right now, I’m somewhat in the weeds but things are moving again largely because I’ve aligned myself to Kathy Cromwell in Savannah and thanks to her Athlete’s House food plan, I’ve dropped 5 pounds in the last week so I’m still feeling stressed but confident. And before any of you ‘you have to do it smart and just lose a couple of pounds a week‘ speaks  up, shut up. When you are recovering systemically from over training; still trying to put on muscle or at the very least not lose any; get your lifts sorted out; are not home every other weekend for months; have normal life stress, and are 52 then you get an opinion. Even then I’d probably still tell you to shut up. The general population doesn’t get an opinion on cutting weight. Sorry not sorry. I’ve seen how you people eat.

Cutting weight with a weigh-in looming ahead of you makes for a very dull Jules. Our social calendar has been bleak and heading out for a shared cup of coffee on Sunday with my dear friend, Heather, was really as exciting as things get. I can’t eat out; I can’t drink, what a sucky summer. But I have goals and I have no intention of failing. My lifts are on track and I get to spend three hours with Michael Cohen this weekend at a lifting seminar in Duluth, MN which will pull all the pieces together and give me four weeks to nail shit in. Also, Duluth Minnesota is my happy place so even though I don’t get to eat scrumptious food or drink scrumptious beer, I get to sit on the shores of Lake Superior with my hubby and just ‘be.’ That makes up for every piece of fun I’ve missed. I’m so very excited!

Cutting weight and getting my lifts where they need to be for Masters World Championships in Montreal a week before Oz is slated to graduate from BCT has been the perfect distraction from worry. First off, there is absolutely nothing I can do to help Oz right now. I write every day. I send an occasional package of little things that are approved to send. I think of him the moment I wake up and he is my last thought before I close my eyes at night. But he needs to control his destiny now, mommy’s lecture time is done.

There’s been more change but I think we’ll stop here. Having to relive it in blog form is nearly as exhausting as going through it the first time. Besides, my alarm just went off and I need to eat again. OH! I have to set an alarm to eat. High maintenance much? I’m actually not good about getting food in during the day so suddenly it’s four in the afternoon and I have to eat three meals worth of food. No bueno. So now I set an alarm so I’m eating all my food when I’m most active and am feeling much better. Cutting weight is no joke. I just really can’t wait for french toast.

Change is the law of life. And those who look only to the past or the present are certain to miss the future.

John F. Kennedy