Ok, self. It’s time to have a little talk. No more Mrs. Nicey-Nice. You’ve been moping around for days. You can only blame the Hawaiian time change for so long. Stop your complaining. Put down the Sweet Action ice cream sandwiches. Stop validating your stupid unhealthy behaviors. Go do some push-ups.

{When I envision this pep-talk I picture myself slapping myself on the face multiple times. Sometimes you just have to kick your own ass}

I appreciate people who aren’t always so damn nicey-nice. Take my Crossfit coach, for example. He is not nicey-nice but it’s totally OK because I’m scared of him. In a good way. He needs to help us kick our own asses for cryin’ out loud. The other day our WOD incorporated a lift I’d never done before so I chose a lighter weight. I can never tell how I’m going to feel after doing a lift repeatedly for 12 minutes. I also can never tell how many rounds I’ll be able to complete during an AMRAP (holy Crossfit lingo!!) so I’ll mark like, 20 tick marks on my whiteboard and when I have 16 leftover people will be like, “Um, pretty ambitious number there, tiger”. Except they don’t call me ‘tiger’ although I really wish I had a cool nickname. After we completed the lift we had to run 250m. When I came back from my run Coach TJ was like, “I may or may not have added weight to your bar while you were gone”. Turns out the motherfu$ker added 20lbs to my bar. (TJ: when I say ‘motherfu$ker’ it’s a term of endearment. Just ask my climbing friends.) That’s how Crossfit peeps show their support; they add more weight to your bar. It’s good to know they believe in you when you don’t believe in yourself.

I almost went too far with that last sentence and crossed over to nicey-nice-land. Moral of the story: slap yourself in the face when you’re feeling like shi$. Or: go to Crossfit and stop underestimating yourself. Or: it’s totally OK to eat a lot of ice cream sandwiches and feel sorry for yourself but eventually you need to do push-ups. You know what? You come up with your own lesson here. I’m done being nice. I really do love you though.

Not Nicey-Nice Boys. Badass Boys.