Oh Everest, My Everest

So, after a couple of months of mental courting, I finally made a move and went to the CrossFit gym tonight. Baby, let me tell you... it delivers. This is really strange, or maybe not so strange because I'm still reading Ayn Rand, but working out tonight reminded me of what Communist Russia was not. (Yes, I know not everyone is peculiar in the head the way I am, so I'll explain.) In We The Living, Kira lived her life as if every ounce of her being screamed "Yes!" to everything. It was an answer to the question of the universe. An enthusiastic one. In the affirmative. I can't even express how much I love that idea. It makes working out so hard that you want to puke a pleasant experience, if you can imagine that. It makes the rest of my life pretty good, too.

Wow, and that reminds me of my last summer in LA when one of the congressman's DC guys came to the office and said that I was "effusively happy." Naturally, my response was more happiness. Then college and NYC's shitty weather beat the happy right out of me. I thought it was the lack of sunshine, but apparently I don't even need it. Near-excessive amounts of exercise fill that gap quite nicely. Is this another extreme addiction forming, Krischelle? Maybe. I'm going to reserve that judgement for tomorrow when I will inevitably find it difficult to even brush my teeth or walk down a flight of stairs. I'll have to see about getting there on Sundays now that I'm armed with the knowledge that I can show up hung-over from the night before, which derailed my plans last week. That ought to curb the feeling of uselessness that creeps in when I work that night shift.

Yay for endorphins!