Goal are good, but expectations can be a killer. Over the past week I hustled to finish my first draft of my upcoming book and ship it off to my editor at the publishing company along with the daily business of Dirt in Your Skirt. It’s been a busy last couple of months and stress levels have run high trying to juggle, directing two virtual challenges, writing a book, shipping merchandise, writing blogs, fitting in training, and finally managing a home life.

In the past week the juggling act came to a stop, as I prepped to send the draft to my editor a nasty throat, sinus, coldish thing consumed my body. I tried to take a rest day, but work got the better of me, writing still needed to be done,  still needed to get things done around the house and orders still needed to be shipped. Life doesn’t stop because you are sick.

As I attempted to slow things down, I felt better on Thursday, ran to the gym, did a light workout, than ran home (slowly). I felt tired afterwards but not overly terrible. Friday came around and it was the day I do the CrossFit Open. This week the WOD looked like a lot of fun and I was looking forward to putting up a big number, expecting a big number out of myself.

I prefer to go in the second group normally letting the nerves dissipate when the first group goes, Friday I ended up in the first group. I had seen friends numbers and had set a high expectation for myself to achieve. I thought I had this one. As I started the WOD (5 overhead presses, 10 deadlifts, and 15 box jumps) I felt ok, then it went wrong fast. I found my throat dry as a whistle on my second or third round, I felt like the Sahara had crept into my mouth. Then it felt like it was harder to breathe, my stomach turned, during a overhead press I had to drop the bar, weakness came over me and I puked, just a little but it came out. After that it went downhill, my box jumps (normally a strength) went to step-ups, my push presses happened one at a time. I wasted a ton of energy and was only able to get through 6 and change rounds in the 10 minutes of the workout.

I sat outside of the gym on the grass afterwards feeling closer to death than life, looking about as good. I chatted with other members and said I wanted to try it again on Sunday. I was in my mind determined to do it again. Well Sunday has come, a barking cough and congestion still surround me. The stubborn side of me wants to go and do it again, however the rational side has taken over, 10 minutes of a high intensity workout could equal a few more days sick. It’s just not worth it. So instead I am going to enjoy my day, do what needs to be done at home, and play with my new chickens and maybe plant a few more seeds in the garden if the rain holds off. Sometimes in life, we have to roll and accept things for what they are and not what they might be.