Crossfit and Corrections

First, a few minor clarifications to yesterday’s blog: 1) My grandmother LOVES Roger. Especially after he cooked her a lamb dinner.  2) Roger has work. Not his dream job. So keep the connections and suggestions coming our way.

The Aussie and I made a pact when we were engaged that we would exercise together until death did us part. We actually said we would exercise every day but that has quickly spiraled to include things like taking the dog out to pee or sweeping the floor. Although I did finally run my first Dekatriathon in September, we haven’t exactly been disciplined.

So three weeks ago, we went along for a trial class at Crossfit Destination. This class is conducted in Kapiolani Park and gives Crossfit a good name. Noah and Greta are the nicest, fittest, crazy head trainers we know.

That is Roger and NOT me. That’s one of our trainers, Greta. She’s the female half of the team that kicks our butts three days a week. (Photo compliments of

Our friends Matt and Zan have been raving about Crossfit for a while now and my Super Runner friend Audrey goes too. The workouts are different every day, the people are encouraging, and the scenery can’t be beat.

We jumped on the band wagon and now we are too sore to jump off.


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