Gah! Having a Meltdown. For Real.

Holy sh*t. Holy sh*t. Holy sh*t.

I’m working from home today, and Dave is out in the studio, and I’m at the dining room table with my laptop… and yes, I know I shouldn’t type at the table ’cause it’s the wrong height and it makes my shoulders kinda tight but that’s beside the point because… there is NO ONE here for me to rant to… AND I’M FREAKING OUT ABOUT THIS STATEMENT:

“Only 3-pound weights,” Tracy Anderson says. “No woman should lift more than 3 pounds.”

This is from personal trainer Tracy Anderson… who trains Madonna and Gwyneth Paltrow and probably could positively influence a whole lot of women because she has these high profile clients with access to people like Oprah.

Excuse me — I have to swear a whole bunch right here.

What the f*ck?! Are you f*cking kidding me?! Is she out of her ever-lovin’ mind?! WHAT. THE. F?!

Spitting nails. I am literally spitting nails, people. They’re bouncing off my bookshelves and embedded in the leopard print cushions and chipping the tile floor. And whoa! Sesame looks a little nervous… because I’m so f*cking aggro right now I’m spitting nails.

Fist.
of.
rage.

Tracy Anderson, referred to from this point on as Dingdong, trains Gwynnie. And Gwynnie went on Oprah — a show with a vast audience of women who need to be exercising and eating right. I mean… what do you think the obesity rate is for Oprah watchers?! — and told millions of women that her trusted trainer said that they should never lift a weight heavier than 3 pounds.
GAH!

I want to start right now, door to door, telling my neighbors and then your neighbors and then your mom’s neighbors and the people in the next town over and everyone in Europe who’s maybe watching a pirated version of Oprah, “Don’t listen to that Dingdong! She is Satan spawn. Lift weights — heavy ones. Do stuff that feels really hard and makes you kind of uncomfortable. And keep trying and pushing and striving and breathing and FOR HEAVEN’S SAKE, do not listen to that Dingdong.”

You know I love you, my awesome readers. I do. I love you. So I hope you’ll forgive me for what I’m about to do. I’m going to give you the link to photos and a little transcript so you can be spitting mad, too. You see what I did? I brought your loving company into my misery. I’m sorry!

But… if that nonsense from the Dingdong makes you spitting mad, too, there’s a remedy. Bring a friend to the next UTB, or send your far-away family the URL for Crossfit.com so they can find a gym near them, or convince your sweetheart to try out a Bootcamp, or invite a co-worker to the CrossFit Women class on Saturday morning.

GAH!

I need to go do some burpees.