the spaz of fitness has arrived

Something Different

In Rhetoric, Writing on November 1, 2012 at 7:03 pm

I’m always grateful when people show an interest in my work. I’m entirely stunned when people find it worthwhile to publish my work– to see something in it worthwhile enough that they’d like to share it with others. I think I’ll always be overcome by gratitude each time it happens (and god I hope it keeps happening). That said, a recent piece of mine has appeared in the Fall 2012 edition of Kartika Review— a journal I’ve long admired and with which I’ve hoped to collaborate. This is a work of nonfiction. My only work of creative nonfiction, and possibly the most difficult thing I’ve ever written. It has nothing to do with CrossFit and nothing to do with paleo, so if that’s all your here for you can wait until after my Saturday update on my powerlifting meet ;). I actually deliberated for a while whether I would share it on this blog. It’s personal– possibly more about Jo than any of you would want to know, but I’ve also grown tired of silence… I’ve considered that it may be cowardly, or weak, to thrust my stories onto others. But I also admire the act of openness… that fearlessness to be unapologetic about yourself and your shadows. I’m still not sure how I feel about publishing this piece, but for those of you who read it– it may illuminate a bit of the Jo that showed up in State College two and a half years ago, ragged with insufficiency, uncertain of everything. I’ve gotten over a lot of the crap featured in this essay– with many thanks to my patient, loving friends. These days,  I generally feel pretty good about the world (as evidenced by my super-fluffy posts recently), but I don’t think my demons ever totally disappear. Now and then, when I least expect it, they emerge at 3:00 in the morning, when my basement studio seems the last, lonely place on earth. Sometimes they emerge-mid WOD, when I realize I’ve stopped lifting to work out, I’ve stopped lifting for reps, I’m just lifting for annihilation– hoping all that pain will get my brain to finally… stop thinking. But it doesn’t. So I write. And this is what I came up with:

If the automatic viewer thing on the page doesn’t work for you, you can download the pdf via the “Download” tab. I start on page 67. If you’re feeling super generous, I’m sure the lovely folks who work for Kartika would love for you to buy the issue (there’s a tab for that too). I usually love the writers they choose, and they always have a wonderful selection of writing.

As always, thank you for reading.

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