#this post turned out to be longer than i expected wahoo | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

zooblenation · 11 months ago

Text

OK GAMERS. ITS TIME. CHESIL DEAL WITH PANDEMONIUM BACKSTORY. for those of you who are new here: this is the fellow doomed to the narrative.

if you haven’t already read pandemoniums lore i suggest doing that first:

sol is also a character in chesils backstory. heres her lore! not a requirement to read to understand but shes my baby:

LETS GET RIGHT INTO IT. I’ll quickly cover his life growing up. Chesil was born into the kingdom of Canema. Ill save Canema lore for another post but heres a quick description. A desert kingdom, located inside the ravines of sandstones cliffs. The ravines were lined with houses carved out from the sandstone, and lead into a crater in the middle. In the massive crater was were the kingdoms royal family and markets were found. Canema was relatively peaceful, apart from the monster problem. Inside these ravines were cave systems loaded with unpleasant creatures who would regularly attack the kingdom. This kingdom has very few magic users in it, the most magic Chesils ever seen is maybe a traveling wizard passing through. This is where Chesils family comes in, they were the kingdoms protectors and monster hunters. (whether or not it was ethical to invade an animals home then wipe them out when they tried to protect themselves is for you to decide.) They were widely famous and known throughout Canema. heres they r!!

First is Otto Mupfordian (biological dad) Winifred (Winnie) Mupfordian (biological sister) and Farrier Mupfordian (dad who married in) . (chesils biological mom is not super relevant. one day ill make an indepth post on the family lore) Chesil was, well, a bit different from them. He was not your RAHHHHHH KILL DESTROY gym buff. If anything he was the opposite. He was incredibly shy and reserved, and would probably fall over if you asked him to hold a shield. He loved his family more than anything, and they loved him back, but it would be a lie to say he wasn’t living in their shadow. Being born into a famous family, it was a bit hard connecting with other people your age. They either expect you to be Just like your family, or only want to talk to you because they want to meet the legends themselves. Chesil lack of social skills made it hard enough, with all this piled on he tended to isolate himself. In the process of doing this, his family became his only support system. They were all he cared about. Chesil clearly did not inherit the monster hunter title, and turned to a more creative line of work. Doll making. Not children’s toys, but intricate detailed Display dolls. He was quite skillful at it too, and due to his family’s connections, he was able to find frequent commisioners. Ok. Time jump. Chesil is 20 years old. He’s not completely miserable per-say, but depressed and lonesome. At least he has his work and family, right? (incorrect buzzer sound) WRONG! Chesil has DEAD FAMILY SYNDROME. The Mupfordians were frequently invited to royal parties, and attended them accordingly. Chesil rarely joined along, parties were overstimulating and Not his thing. One night, his family went out to one. For reference, the Mupfordians lived on top of one of the cliffs, and had a path carved out for their carriage to travel down. Would be a shame if the path became unstable from wear. But haha im sure its fine. Chesil woke up the next morning to see his family had not returned yet. Not to concerning, maybe they got drunk, and decided to stay at an inn overnight. More time passes. No sight of them. Surely they would of sent a message by now if they planned to stay out longer. So chesil decided it was time to head into town an investigate. He didn’t make it very far. Following the road down, he noticed a part of it had fallen away. When he looked over the edge he saw something much worse, the carriage his family had taken to the party. And well. His Family. They did not survive the wreck. His entire world had fallen apart in the span of a few seconds. Chesil, who’s life revolved around his family, did not handle this very well at all. Sure people stopped by to pay their condolences, but he had no connection to any of them. This is where Pandemonium shows up.

Well. Kinda. Up until the week of their funeral, a strange pink cat kept appearing to Chesil. Only ever in the corner of his eye, and never for to long. He thought he was just going crazy. During his family’s funeral, he had a moment of Fuck. This is to much, I cant be here. I cant watch this. I cant do Any of this. I have nothing left. So. He planned to go home kill himself. Chesil snuck out of the funeral early and went home, and started on his note. (visuals for the audience. here is his room. he is writing the note at that desk above the bed.)

While writing the note, he once again saw the pink cat, appearing in his window. (like. INSIDE of the glass.) Instead of immediately disappearing this time, the cat started to move across the glass, and into another reflective surface in the room, and another, and another. Chesil confused and frustrated by this creature he had been haunted by for the past week, got up and chased him. He ran downstairs following this beast as he appeared in different surfaces, until the creature went inside his family’s blacksmith room. He hadn’t dared step foot in this room since they passed, it was to much of a reminder of everything they made. With a deep breath, Chesil stepped in. The cat was no longer in sight as he slowly walker through the room. He called out to the creature, to no avail. When he made it to the end of the room, he noticed one of his family’s shield’s had fallen to the floor. This is where Pandemonium fully reveals himself in the reflection of the shield, and speaks for the first time. “You caught me!” He laughs, “Now its my turn to catch you.” And with that, it reaches a paw through the shield and grabs Chesil, pulling him inside. Erm. I never drew the room Pandemonium pulls chesil into, but I imagine it looks like this. but minus the walls and instead all these stained glass panels are floating in a black void.

Chesil finds himself at the top of the stained glass stair panels, and no cat to be seen. He calls out again, to once again be met with silence. Unsure of what to do, Chesil starts down the stairs, until he is at the round panel at the bottom. (for the audience, i imagine pandemonium is on the under side of the glass panels, following chesil. heres UGLY OLD ART OF THAT. pretend theres a panel between them.)

This is where Pandemoniums walks to the right side up, and Chesil sees him Not in a reflective surface, but in his physical form. Chesil, who afore mentioned has little experience with magic, is Beyond confused, he questions the cat in a panicked tone, asking who he is. And finally the cat answers. He introduces himself as Chatté. (french word for cat. a simple and much less threatening name then Pandemonium.) Someone who is here to help Chesil! And maybe Chesil could help Him im return. Suddenly, the stained glass stairs start moving around them, and form into different shapes, so “Chatté” can share his story of Woe. (once again to the audience, the story im about to share is a Lie. Pandemonium made it up to trick Chesil. Its backstory didn’t change LOL.) He tells the tale of three wizards, who trapped him inside the mirror plane, which is why Chesil has only seen him through Reflections. Pandemonium desperately wants to be free again! And the only way he can do so is if the wizards are murdered. Then he brings Chesils family into the mix, Proposing a deal. Three lives for three lives. I revive your family, and you go out and kill the wizards to free me in return. We both win! Just dont break the deal haha therewillbeconsquences ANYWAYS. Now Chesil isn’t the violent type, but this is his Only Chance. Its this, or go back and kill himself. Begrudgingly he accepts. Pandemonium gives him a mirror, and says it will lead him to the location of the first wizard. Once that wizard is defeated, it will show the next, and so on so forth. Heres what the mirror looks like :33 but pretend those jesters chesils skipping around the middle are Pandemonium.

And poof. Chesil is shot back out of the shield, and everything is suddenly back to normal. His family is back in the house, acting like nothing ever happened. Yay! Well partial yay. Chesil now has the whole murder thing to deal with. He was made aware these fights wouldn’t be easy, and he should train himself in advance. Insert training montage here. He asks Winifred to teach him how to properly use a sword, and shes delighted to obviously. Like damn.. Chesils finally taking interest in fighting!!! During all this, Chesil gets a commission request from a theater actor to create a doll line of herself featuring the outfits shes preformed in. This is just like any other job Chesil has had, some random rich person wanting a doll of themselves. Nothing Suspicious Here. This actor goes by the name of Soleil. (YES. THE SOLEIL. erm i never made a proper design for an actor self but heres a small doodle.)

Sol presents herself as flamboyant and incredibly extroverted. She insists on having a close eye on Chesil’s creation process, finding it fascinating. Chesils used to people checking in, but Sol is definitely the most curious customer he’s ever had. Long story short, throughout the course of Chesil killing the first two wizards, they fall in love. (YURIII) Sol opens up to him more n more as he works on her dolls, and he realizes shes more than just Rich Actor! Shes actually just as insecure as he is, and she worries people only like her for the person she is on stage, her exuberant personality is more of an act than reality. they r shitty teen romance minus the teen part its just cheesy. Anyways keep this in mind, BACK TO THE HORRORS. first wizard battle! i actually have whole battle sequences written for each wizard but i am looking at the length of this already and have decided Ok maybe this can wait for another post. but in summary the wizard battles took place in arenas they created. Kinda like a soul gem in madoka where you get Pulled In. its jn an entirely different realm, so the battles themselves were pretty extravagant and had Crazy arenas. The first wizard Chesil had to kill was Etoile.

erm also heres chesils sword in detail btw. hes kills the wizards with This

The battle was successful and Chesil now has to live with that guilt forever. Yayyyyyyyyy. Onto the next victim. A wizard by the name of Lune

This time, Chesil meets him before seeing him in his wizards clothes. Because unfortunately enough, he was Etoiles husband. Lune comes to the Mupfordians after the disappearance of his husband, asking them for help. He had already been to the royal guards, but he knows the Mupfordians are the pro monster hunters, and hopes that they can keep an eye out for Etoile, in the unfortunate scenario where he may of um. Got eaten by a monster. Chesil is sweating his ASS OFF during all of this, amd seeing the consequences of his actions in real time reallyyyy take a blow on his sanity. To have to see this poor grieving husband knowing He Did it and that he was going to have to kill him Next. And the paranoia of getting caught by his Own family is now lingering over him. But haha. In to far now huh? So onwards into the next battle. Chesil fights Lune and wins. Chesils really starting to slip now. Turns out murder is taxiing. BUT IT GETS WORSE. The third wizard is revealed. Its none other than Soleil herself. The person Chesil has spent the past 6 months falling in love with. (bruh.. i have this whole thing in my mind where over the 6 months chesils craftsmenship of the soleil dolls hes been commisioned slowly gets worse n worse until she’s revealed to be the final wizard and chesil COMPLETELY breaks the doll. representative of his mental state throughout the story haha) Seeing her again after finding out is so. hard. Having to pretend everything’s normal when you know the shitstorm that is about to happen. Anyways Chesil invites Soleil out on a date. Somewhere farrrrr out, and the truth gets revealed. Commence Battle.

Unlike Lune and Etoiles battles, its not Super extra and or extravagant, its just Chesil and Soleil in an arena(tho the arena badass as fuck.), fighting with their weapons. Its much more personal and Real. Sol fights back, but is begging Chesil the entire time to stop. That maybe we can find another way. Chesil is fucking LOOSING IT BRO. And after Sol lands a nasty hit on him he Stops. He Cant Do This. He Cant Kill Her. Its To Much. Sol tries to reach out to help him up, but he instead runs off. He’s in a complete panicked state, and doesn’t know what to do. All thats going through his head is he needs to LEAVE. He needs to take his family and RUN. So he does just that. Chesil runs back home Bloody and fucked up from that battle, begging his family to get in the carriage, they are confused and incredibly concerned, but oblige. And down the hill they start, the whole scene is fast and frantic and before you know it the carriage crashes off into the same spot. Or at least it Almost does, as the carriage flys off the hill with everyone inside, it freezes in mid air. Except for Chesil, who slams down into the bottom.

omfg this art is soooo old and a bit outdated. pretend like he has a massive cut on his chest. but i drew this moment. this whole scene makes me crazy the story Ends how it Began. looping back to the original carriage crash, to show you cant ever really change fate. it’s Inevitable. Suddenly, the world starts falling apart around him. Like a stage set. Chesil is out of his mind running through this world being torn apart as he goes through it, until he curls himself up in a little ball shaking and sobbing. A familiar voice speaks and gentle paw rests on his own paw, it’s Winifred. She tells him its safe now. Its ok. Look at me. When Chesil retreats out of his shell and looks up at her, her warm smile twists into a cruel one, and the gentle grasp on his hand turns into a much harsher one, snapping back his fingers. Owie. Her whole body contorts as she turns into a much smaller form. A pink cat. Pandemonium. “Trying to run away, are we?” His voice echoes throughout the black emptiness that was once Canema. He laughs and goes on his little villain monologue. Tsk tsk tsk. Breaking your deal, well, I guess I knew it was coming. It was designed this way after all. Chesil questions what he means by designed. And the true horror of this whole situation is revealed to him. The revived family he had been living with for 6 months? Fake. The wizards? Fake. Soleil…? Fake. Pandemonium had set him up, created a deal he Knew Chesil would fail. Soleil was planted from the beginning. But god, didn’t it make a thrilling story? Wonderful entertainment. You fell for All of it. A tragic love story, having to decide between his family and love. Epic battles. Almost getting caught. Your descent into insanity. It was perfect. But now its over, and you broke the deal by trying to run. It was all an illusion! In fact Chesil, you never left that chair while writing that stupid letter. It all started from the moment you ran down the hallway chasing me. Your body has been rotting in that seat for months. And now your soul is mine, Pandemonium explains. Before Chesil has anytime to process any of this, he is turned into another one of Pandemoniums puppets and shoved into his mind prison.

hehe YUP HIS MIND PRISON IS HIS ROOM. AND HES TIED DOWN TO THE CHAIR WITH VINES. reference to him never leaving the chair and the overgrowth from the plants in his room consuming him. kicks feet back n forth. Now hes spent the last 5 years in puppet hell. n well. Its a bad ending i know. But this is just his backstory Before our cnd campaign started. He was shoved into the party as his puppet self, and a few sessions in his curse was broken (MOST FUN REVEAL OF MY LIFE. NOBODY IN MY PARTY KNEW HE WAS A PUPPET They just thought he was some crazy clown guy. Turns out hes actually a WIMPY LOSER.) And now Chesil continues his story in the campaign, shoved into a prophecy. Not even I will know where his character will go. Shrugs. Hes currently having a joker arc right now for good reasons but i’ll keep you guys updated as the sessions continue....

OMFG THIS IS SO LONG AND I GENUINELY COULD OF MADE IT SO MUCH LONGER HAHA. I could say so much abt this story BUT I HOPE U LIKE IT ITS MY BABY

#muppysocs #oc:chesil #cnd #furry oc #furry art #furry #clown #jester #\jester oc #clown oc #character design #concept art #AUGH AUGH IM CRAZY #oc:pandemonium #oc:sol

41 notes · View notes

thephantomporg84 · 5 years ago

Note

Re: Dante and depression, I do think he goes through a very heavy period of it canonically in DMC2. There’s a lot of joking about how out of character he is, but he’s dealing with having killed Vergil/Nelo Angelo (and, going by the anime, Trish leaving, which is another on his list of people who cannot be around him long term). The more somber attitude, leaving everything up to chance (recklessness), and how he presents himself all day grief and depression. He’s got a lot of issues.

Y’know, I think you’re right. I really do. And for all the shit I give that game, it’s not even close to some of the truly bad video games I’ve played over the years. Dante’s attitude is also far from the worst thing about it.

Funnily enough, I have something potentially interesting to add to this. With the timeline being 3 -> 1 -> 2 -> 4 -> 5 now, there was someone on either r/DevilMayCry or r/TwoBestFriendsPlay (I think) a long while back that actually made a damn good argument for Dante’s behavior taking the turns it does throughout the series***. I’m gonna try to paraphrase it below — I’d link it in the source but I can’t find the thread to save my life.

Anyway!

DMC3: Dante is kind of loud and obnoxious, arrogant, flashy and somewhere in-between the Class Clown and Bad Boy tropes because he’s actually been through a lot of trauma and is a vulnerable teenager. Puffing his chest out so people (and demons) won’t want to fuck with him.

[On an added note of my own, I think it’s stated somewhere — Before the Nightmare, specifically (not 100% sure) — that Vergil did fight off demon hit-squads in the gap between losing everything and the DMC3 manga. Given that they are twins, and even demons like Beowulf can’t distinguish their scents and looks bc they’re too similar (until it’s too late), in addition to it seeming like the average demon doesn’t realize it’s sons of Sparda... well. It all makes me think that Dante fended off his fair share of those as well, hence the need for that attitude. He also isn’t the type for blunt, direct threats and carrying them out like his brother, either. Anyway.]

Post-DMC3: A little calmer even as early as the post-credits in DMC3. Very clearly affected by his brother’s “disappearance” and his ‘victory’. Probably still holds out hope Vergil really is a stubborn bastard and is alive, somehow.

DMC1: Probably really misses Vergil by this point. Mallet Island happens, Dante finds out his brother is alive but not really. Actually has to kill him.

Post-DMC1 into the anime: Even moodier than before. Much quieter. Still snarky, but much more... tired. Feels like an outsider and can no longer hold out hope to see his brother because he killed Vergil. He effectively crushed his own hope. He and Lady have their fair share of disagreements and Trish can’t work with him for a prolonged time, either. Not to mention, even if he wanted to talk to his friends about his brother, Lady and Trish aren’t exactly the best to talk to given how they’re tied to this story.

DMC2: Incredibly isolated and depressed. No one around to put the mask on for, Trish does her thing and Lady does hers (and sometimes they work together without him) and he probably has a reputation among demons at this point (no need for that teenaged attitude), so why bother putting the mask on at all?

DMC4: Dante is so all over the place in this game that he almost comes across as more ‘wacky wahoo pizza meme compilation’ than ‘actually fucking Dante from the Devil May Cry series’... but also finds out at the start of the game that his dead brother somehow had an Actual Kid™ and that he actually does have a living family member. His brother, in a way, lives on. Messes with the kid, but ultimately lets him keep a hilariously dangerous sword and essentially lets the whole Savior incident play out because he doesn’t say no to the kid.

[ngl, I’d probably be high on life and reciting literature my brother (probably) liked while being a total ham, too, if I were in Dante’s shoes at this point. I’d be fucking delirious with joy.]

~DMC5 era: Reality sets in over time, the happiness wears off, and Dante can’t bring himself to talk to Nero about any of it. He’s lonely and feels like an outsider, isn’t getting any younger, and still misses his brother. Seeing Nero probably causes some conflicting feelings. Guilt trips. Hiding things probably plays a part in costing Nero his devil bringer. He realizes it’s Vergil and that, for a third time, he’s going to lose his brother — a second time by his own hand. He’s been grieving this whole time while Vergil, somehow, someway, was alive.

End of DMC5: Has his brother back. Potentially has a family, even if it’s a small one, and even if it’s technically just his brother and nephew. Nephew really seems to care about them to do everything he did to stop them. Actually looks genuinely happy, for the moment, for the first time in a very, very, very long time.

[***Now, granted, I’m very aware that DMC, as a series, totally does have quite a few cohesiveness issues, and can’t seem to decide on a tone more often than not — though it does finally seem to be finding its footing there. It’s to be expected from a game born because ‘this was supposed to be Leon Kennedy and Resident Evil 4 but it’s just too goddamned much even by RE standards.’ But still! I thought that was a really impressive attempt to connect things and can’t praise it enough.]

137 notes · View notes

crossroadsdimension · 7 years ago

Text

World Collision -- Chapter 20

Boy, this has come a long way. Two chapters remain to be posted...I’ll probably have them up before the end of June.

Here we go.

Final Assault

Myra was shaken awake some hours later by a gentle hand. She opened her eyes and looked up from where she was leaning against the cave-like metal wall.

Flare-Up was standing over her, with an expression on her face that looked nothing like the grim determination she’d had every time Myra had seen her before. She seemed sad, which startled Myra into wakefulness.

She didn’t think that Flare-Up could even look sad anymore.

“Get up,” Flare-Up said quietly. “We’re moving now.”

Myra yawned and pulled herself up to her feet, leaning against the wall.

Flare-Up’s expression hardened into the familiar, severe seriousness that she’d had when Myra had first seen her fully aware of her surroundings. “The others are waiting by the barrier leading into the Dark City. We’ve got one shot, and then the Time Barriers won’t let anyone cross. Not even World Jumpers.”

“They can do that?” Myra asked nervously.

“Unfortunately. When time and space as we know it are tearing themselves apart, they get to be even more powerful than even a World Jumper can handle. So watch your step when we go through this time.”

Myra gulped and nodded.

Flare-Up nodded in response, then stepped out of the room. Myra followed after her, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes and feeling more alert now than she did when she’d wandered the streets of the Dark City alone.

The Time Barrier between the Cyber Zone and the Dark City Zone was connected – somehow – to the barrier that separated them from the Dungeon Zone.

Myra thought she saw the Time Barrier leading into the Dungeon Zone move towards them an inch, causing her to jump back a little. Flare-Up saw her move and nodded slightly before moving towards the other barrier.

“Do you all know what you’re doing?” Flare-Up asked. “It’s going to become extremely dangerous when we step through and start, especially if we put what we planned into motion in order to spread their sources thin.”

“We’ve got it.” Nightwing gave a thumbs-up.

“You talked to Batman?”

“I did. I’ll leave it up to him what he does, but I don’t think that he’s going to be able to stay out of things and watch the rest of us scramble around for much longer.” Nightwing looked up at the dark sky. “I know where the Watchtower is, at least. It won’t be hard for them to drop down and join us.”

“Batman’s coming down?” Myra asked in amazement.

“Maybe. We’ll have to see what he decides to do. In the meantime, we’ve got other things to worry about.” Nightwing looked over at the barrier, which was turning an almost deep purple. “The Time Barrier doesn’t look like it’s going to let us cross.”

“Leave that to me.” Flare-Up cracked her knuckles, then motioned for Seeker to join her at the Time Barrier. “We’re going to need to make a hole.”

“Got it.” Seeker grinned. He stood next to Flare-Up. “Ready when you are, little sis.”

Flare-Up’s expression soured, but she said nothing as she held her hands up against the slowly-turning-purple barrier in front of them. Seeker mimicked her movements.

Something bright blue-white pulsed from their hands; Myra stiffened in surprise at the sight of it, but her expression quickly turned to awe as the color of the barrier changed from purple to bright pink as it became more translucent.

“GO!” Flare-Up yelled.

Nightwing and the rest of their eclectic group did not need to be told twice. They bolted for the barrier and passed through it with relative ease before splitting in different directions on the streets that made of the dark, foreboding city in the center of the collided worlds.

“Myra!” Flare-Up motioned with her head.

Myra shook herself out of her awe at the light show and dove through the barrier. She felt almost no push against her at all, which surprised her enough that she went into a roll on the street before she managed to scramble to her feet.

She looked back just as Seeker and Flare-Up scrambled through themselves, only for the Time Barrier to go from transparent to pink to purple in a fast cascade of colors.

Flare-Up took in a breath, then forced her shoulders to relax. “All right. We’re essentially trapped here until the universe collapses or I set off the Continuum Shift, whichever comes first. I have some unfinished business to attend to before then, so let’s hope space holds on until I have a chance to confront the people I need to.”

“Seeker, we have to move.” Nightwing – the only person left behind from when the others scattered – stepped forward and clapped a hand on Seeker’s shoulder. “The others are already starting to move. You ready for this?”

Seeker hesitated, then nodded a little. “Yeah.” He looked between Flare-Up and Myra. “Good luck, both of you. You’re going to need it.”

Flare-Up nodded. “The same to you.”

Seeker remained standing for a moment, then turned and ran down the street, Nightwing falling into step next to him.

Cries started going up around the city, followed by roars and explosions. Myra could see buildings starting to be torn apart and falling to the ground.

“Come on. They’re using my name to get the attention of the people that have been MindTech’d, but it’s not going to last for long.” Flare-Up jumped up in the air, and the hoverboard on her back slipped under her feet. She held out a hand to Myra. “We have to find Airam.”

Space Break

“Wahoo! Come, Guardians! We have names from Very Naughty List to teach lesson!”

“Tch.” Pitch watched as North bounded out of the chamber, squashing elves under his feet to destroy the MindTech on them as Tooth Fairy, Sandman, the Easter Bunny, and Jack Frost followed after him. “I forgot how annoyingly jolly that man is.”

“It’s a good thing.” Kia was walking around the back portion of the ice-covered chamber. “With him back, the wonder and hope at reversing what the Dark Arms have done will hit everyone in the World Collision, regardless of the Zone they happen to be in. We’ve just helped Flare-Up and her allies much more than we could have by being there in person.”

“Hmph.” Pitch tilted his head slightly, then glided closer to where Kia was inspecting the wall. “And what exactly are you looking for?”

“Some clue as to how the Dark Arms began their conquest.” Kia stopped moving and put a hand on the ice wall, frowning. “They may have placed the center of their empire in the Dark City because it is where the worlds merged best, but that doesn’t mean that was where they began the World Collision. It should be the remnants of a dimension somewhere near here….”

Kia leaned in closer to the ice, eyes narrowing.

Pitch rolled his eyes. “Do you really expect to see something through that? Ice doesn’t make for the best—“

Kia pulled back from the ice and pulled her arms back. Cream-colored sparks of some kind of energy coated her clenched fists up to her elbows, and she threw them forward at once.

The resounding crash that followed caused the ice to crack before it fell to pieces, creating a large gap in the ice that led to another area entirely.

“The origins for their World Collision plot starts here.” Kia slipped into the gap and carefully moved sideways through the opening. Pitch followed after her, his thin form not really needing any careful maneuvering on his part.

“What? By merging my world together with theirs?” Pitch asked in a disapproving tone.

“No. By attempting to invade another dimension, but the power of their portal was too strong, and it merged the two worlds together and caused them to collapse in on each other because of the inter-dimensional strain.” Kia shook her head. “They were far too greedy for their own good.”

They came out on the other side of the ice gap, Kia stepping aside to let Pitch step through onto cold, partially melted cobblestone.

Pitch stared. “What in the name of the moon is…?”

“The remains of two dimensions, transformed into an arena they no longer use,” Kia replied. “They set another world so far off-course in its timeline with their arrival that this is all that’s left.” She motioned to the large, circular stone arena, with ice covering the circular center, and the remains of some sort of wood-and-metal scaffolding up on one side.

A straw hat that looked like it was about to fall to pieces sat on the ice.

“It won’t come back when Flare-Up fixes the dimensions, but there might be people out there who still remember this place.” Kia sighed. “Losing one dimension is bad enough, but losing even these…” She shook her head.

Pitch wasn’t one for emotional support. As it was, his gaze went over the melted stone and the remains of something that covered the stones in some places. “Eh. If there is anyone out there, at least they’re not stuck in this mess.” He turned and went back to the hole in the ice. “Come on. Those bozos are going to need someone to watch their backs.”

Kia nodded numbly, then followed after him. There was a look in her eyes that suggested she was elsewhere.

Speed, Shifter…wherever you are, I hope you’re all right.

Space Rip

“I’d almost forgotten how quiet the streets were.” Myra looked around at the abandoned buildings they passed, recognizing some as old hiding spots back when she had been alone. “It…it doesn’t feel right now.”

“Because you’ve been with us for long enough that you’ve forgotten a little what it’s like to be alone,” Flare-Up replied. She leaned forward on the hoverboard, and they started to move even more quickly through the streets towards the large, foreboding tower that stood over everything in the Dark City. She hissed under her breath. “Come on, come on, you purple clone, where are you?”

A loud screech came from one of the nearby skyscrapers, and a blast of purple flames came shooting out from one of the windows.

“Myra!”

“Flash Fire!” Myra raised a hand, keeping the other one on Flare-Up’s shoulder in order to keep her balance. The purple fire was pulled in her direction and absorbed by her form instantly, filling Myra with more energy than she felt she knew what to do with.

“How dare you bring that one with you!” Airam shot down as the fire dissipated. The crazed look in her eyes caused Myra to flinch back a little.

“I am just leveling the playing field.” Flare-Up started to bring up her right hand, then winced and put that hand over her chest instead. Something white flashed. “Not yet! Not now!”

Myra’s eyes widened sharply. She’d seen that flash once before – when Flare-Up had been explaining her plan. Did that mean…?

Airam hovered a few feet in front of them, looking startled. “No…how do you have that power?! The masters said it was never going to happen – they made sure of it!”

Flare-Up growled as the white flash faded. “They only want you to think that.” She held out both hands, palms facing the dark gray sky. “Airam. I know what you are, and who you are. I know what you have become, and what you intend to do with the powers that were granted to you in the beginning.”

Airam’s brow furrowed in confusion, the expression mimicked by Myra.

“Flare-Up, what are you—“

“Scribe told me.” Flare-Up cut Myra off. “And now I am simply going to follow through.” She took in a breath, then started murmuring something that didn’t sound anything like English.

The white glow started up again, but it quickly changed to a dark, dark blue as tendrils of light rose from the palms of Flare-Up’s hands and reached out towards Airam.

Airam started backing up slowly, then turned and prepared to bolt, only for the tendrils to latch onto her arms suddenly and pull her back, circling up her arms. Myra lost sight of the tips under Airam’s hair.

Airam came to an abrupt halt, arched her back, and screamed to the heavens as something in the tendrils of light pulsed back towards Flare-Up.

Flare-Up cut the tendrils off, letting them dissipate and take the whatever-was-pulsing thing in them along with it.

Then she raised her Buster and fired a blast of orange energy that was as big as her head, sending Airam flying into another building.

Flare-Up lowered her Buster and almost fell forward, but managed to regain her balance. “Right. That’s taken care of.”

“Wh-what did you do?!” Myra yelped. “Where did those light-things come from?!”

“Instinct,” Flare-Up murmured in reply. She shook her head. “Don’t worry about it. It probably won’t happen again.”

“Probably?! Flare-Up, what did you do?!”

Flare-Up half-turned and glared back at Myra with such a fierce gaze that it caused Myra to flinch back. “I took her ability to World Jump, okay?!”

Myra’s eyes widened sharply. “Wha—“

“Impossible!” Ariam stumbled out from the crater she’d made in the side of a building. “You can’t do that – that’s an ability that can’t be taken from—“

“Well, I just did, and I don’t know how I know,” Flare-Up replied shortly. She pointed the Buster at Airam again. “We need to get inside the tower. Now.”

Airam held up her hands, but the movement was slow. There was something in her eyes that seemed to say she was more tired. “You know there’s only one way in for people like you. If you want to get in, grab a cart and take the Trials.”

Myra stiffened, her grip tightening on Flare-Up’s armor. “No…” She gulped loudly.

Airam cackled. “Oh, it seems your friend already knows what coming! Did you try them and get caught?”

“I heard rumors, nothing else!” Myra yelped. “I never went near that place, and for good reason!”

“Well, you’re going there now! You want to see my masters and put an end to them, you’re going to have to march yourself right up there and into their hands.” Airam looked at her hands, as though there were fingernails on the tips of her white-gloved fingers. “Of course, since your friends have all managed to draw out their expendable minions, that just leaves the ones they’ve always had with them.” She looked over slyly. “Are you sure you want to face up against them? Hmm?”

Myra made a nervous noise and shook her head quickly as Flare-Up’s shoulders stiffened at Airam’s words.

Airam cackled again. “I’d like to see you try, but seeing as I’ve failed, the masters probably won’t let me see. The least I could do is get you your ride.” She grinned a little too widely for a normal human face. “So?”

Flare-Up said nothing. Myra looked between the two of them, her nervous energy starting to act up and cause purple sparks to fly from her shoulders.

“Myra, steel yourself,” Flare-Up said crisply. “Do it.”

Airam threw back her head and howled with laughter. “With pleasure!” She made a great, waving arc with one hand, sending sparks of purple flames into the sky, lighting up the surrounding area with strange runes that exploded into nothingness. “Expect your ride in a matter of minutes. I am going to make myself scarce. Loyal to the masters I may be, but I do not intend to die before you do.”

With that, Airam moved back into the shadows between buildings and disappeared from sight.

Myra gulped loudly again as Flare-Up’s hoverboard disappeared from under their feet, dropping her and Flare-Up to the ground. “Wh-what have you done?”

“What needed to be done.” Flare-Up rolled her shoulders as Myra’s hands slipped off them. “According to what you know, the Trials are simply a series of challenges, correct?”

Myra nodded quickly. “Th-that’s what I heard, yeah…but are you sure we’d be able to handle it without getting caught?”

“I’m certain.” Flare-Up looked at Myra. “The Continuum Shift won’t let us fail. Not now.”

Myra blinked, then looked down at Flare-Up’s chest and sucked in a breath when she saw the small, pulsing white light that seemed to come from somewhere under the other World Jumper’s armor. She looked back up at Flare-Up’s face. “That’s what you used to take away Airam’s power, isn’t it?”

Flare-Up’s right hand reached up and hovered over the white light. “That seems…more than likely. It’s bought us more time before it will force me to unleash it, but how much…” She shook her head. “It will happen in the tower, at least.”

Something started rattling on the street corner ahead of them, and Myra and Flare-Up looked over.

A cart of some kind – purple and black, with no visible driver – came around the corner and stopped at the end of the street. It looked like a covered wagon of some kind, but the canopy over the back was transparent.

“That’s it.” Flare-Up strode towards the cart. “Come on, Myra. It’s time we finished this. For good.”

Myra stared at Flare-Up’s back, wondering how in the world she could be willing to go back to her tormentors, then shook her head and quickly ran after her and scrambled up into the back of the cart in time with Flare-Up.

Flare-Up had said that they were going to be partners. It wouldn’t be right for Myra to just up and abandon her at the last moment.

Time Break

Myra fidgeted in the back of the cart as they came close to the base of the tower. Something about Flare-Up’s calm felt…too calm. “Flare-Up?”

Flare-Up turned her head away from the empty streets and inclined her head slightly. “Yes?”

“Have you…” Myra paused. “Have you participated in tournaments before?”

Flare-Up blinked at the question, then looked up at the transparent canopy above them. "I have. Most of them involved teams of Pokémon being pitted against each other, and I have competed in a Smash Worlds Tournament, as well." She looked back with a tired, serious expression. "But I haven't been involved in anything like what has been described to me here. Why do you ask, Myra?"

Myra blinked a couple times, then looked away – back the way they had come. “Well…I was kinda wondering if you had any experience—“

“According to what I’ve heard you and the others say about this—“ Flare-Up motioned to the tower they were swiftly approaching—“it’s nothing like any normal tournament. It’s a death trap. People go in, and they don’t come out.”

Flare-Up’s voice had taken a dark tone that caused Myra’s eyes to widen before she flinched at the last sentence. After a moment, she gave a hesitant nod. “I…guess you could put it that way, yeah. The Trials aren’t something that I’ve ever thought could be beaten.” She looked at Flare-Up. “But do you think there’s a chance?”

Flare-Up nodded sternly. “We’ve weakened their numbers and strengthened our own. I think we’ll be able to handle whatever lies beyond those doors.” She glared up at the tall, black tower that was ahead of them, and the doors that were swiftly becoming more visible. They looked like they were either made of ancient stone or metal, with carvings of knights fighting against dragons with nothing but swords.

Myra hesitated. "Flare-Up, I don't know if you should have chosen me to go with you for this."

Flare-Up blinked. “What makes you think that?”

Myra looked at Flare-Up in surprise at the question. "W-well, I'm not as strong as Captain America or as fast as-"

"Do you really think that's the only thing that matters?" Flare-Up frowned disapprovingly, causing Myra to flinch again. "What matters is that you and I can work together. I haven't been able to fight side-by-side like this with most of the others we've managed to rescue, and even then, you can read my movements better than they can in a fight."

Myra looked at Flare-Up in surprise at that. "R-really?"

Flare-Up nodded, a somewhat demonic smile working its way across her face. The expression made Myra shudder a bit. "The Dark Arms won't know what hit them."

With that said, the doors in front of them slowly started to open, and Flare-Up returned her attention to the tall tower in front of them as her face shifted into a mask of grim determination.

#cross' fanfiction #World Collision #OC #Maria/Flare-Up #Myra #Seeker/Matthew #Airam #Scribe/Kia #Nightwing #Pitch Black #goodness I have so many OCs in this chapter #it is what it is though #and I have two chapters left to post and then I can move onto the next one without worry!#the fact that I already have seven chapters completed for that sucker is pretty awesome honestly.

2 notes · View notes

brandyfields66-blog · 6 years ago

Text

My CrossFit Transformation Was Much More Drastic Than I Expected–But Not for the Reason You'd Think

Most people start CrossFit because they're looking to lose weight, or get stronger, or get into the best shape of their life. Having played rugby in college, taught Zumba, finished a marathon, and taken up bodybuilding, for me, CrossFit wasn't about the physical promises. I joined a CrossFit box (as the gyms are called) because I needed a job.

I moved to New York for what was, at the time, my dream job. But six months in, I called my mother sobbing. I'd just been given notice that the company would be letting me go in two weeks' time. The eager post-grad haze had worn off, I was no longer certain I had chosen the right career field, and I was hit with a wave of loneliness.

After living in the city for half a year, I'd failed to make any friends. Late nights at the office had taken precedence over happy hours and girl-gang hangs. And because I'd often gotten off work late, instead of sampling New York's fitness class scene, I'd opted for a 24-hour big box gym. There, I'd do some bicep curls, walk on the stairmaster, and after about an hour, flex, take some mirror selfies, and leave.

RELATED: 25 Exercises You Can Do Anywhere

Now, here I was, bummed out, wishing for pals to vent to about my impending unemployment, and in serious need of pulling together work. So when I saw on Instagram that a Manhattan box, ICE NYC, was hiring a front desk social media manager, I applied.

I'd talked (or at least, thought) trash about CrossFit in the past, even though if I'm being totally honest with myself, I had no reason to. But I guess there was a part of me that was a little intrigued with the whole CrossFit phenomenon and the community it promised.

My first interview took place directly following a class. Having arrived super-early, I caught the tail end of the workout and watched as the athletes congratulated each other and brought it in for a cheer. The ethos of the group reminded me of my time playing rugby in college: The coach was treated with respect, the team was determined and focused, and the athletes followed an implicit "No One Left Behind" policy.

While the promise of barbells alone couldn't convince me to try CrossFit, watching a class and talking with the gym's owner about community, fitness, and joining the two could.

After my interview, the owner called to let me know that if I tried CrossFit and liked it, he'd hire me. So I signed up for a class the very next morning. I thought taking a CrossFit class would be like updating my LinkedIn, flossing my teeth, or eating greens: a necessary evil.

Turns out, CrossFit is not a thing you just walk in and out of every once in a while. If it sticks, it sticks real good.

I've changed plenty since I was originally hired at the box. For one, I switched to a part-time role so that I could pursue a fitness writing career, but I still work out there and consider the box my home. Twelve months since joining the ICE NYC CrossFit community I can safely say the sport has changed my life. Here's how.

RELATED: 7 Things to Know Before Trying CrossFit

It's cliché, but patience is a serious virtue

Most boxes have an on-ramp process that involves learning the ropes (and basic barbell lifts and bodyweight movements), but because I had weightlifting experience from my collegiate days I was allowed to pass over those sessions. (If you're thinking about joining a box, take advantage of these offerings; I regret missing the learning opportunity). Even though I had fitness experience, it still took a long time to figure out what the heck I was doing.

CrossFit defines itself as constantly varied functional movements performed at high intensities, and that constantly varied part... it's a lot. There's the snatch, and then there's the power snatch. There's also a hang power snatch, and a hang squat snatch.

This variety is part of what makes it fun; you get to try so. many. different. things! But that also means there's an unending stream of things to learn. The go-go-go New Yorker in me loved the exhaustive list of exercises, but the athlete in me felt overwhelmed by the variety.

I had to learn to be patient with myself and my body. If I forgot the difference between a hang, a squat, and a power clean, I had to learn to ask. If I couldn't string together more than a few pull-ups, I had to ask for drills that would help me be able to… eventually. I gave myself permission to not know what the heck I was doing, and then developed the patience necessary to be okay with the learning curve.

Winning isn't everything

My position in rugby was wing, which is the position that scores. Racking up points for my team was my job, and when I failed to do my job well, a loss for the team was usually the outcome. I love winning, and I brought that love of winning to CrossFit. “Finish first” was my motto.

And sometimes I did. Sometimes I'd take the top of the leaderboard on a bodyweight WOD (which stands for workout of the day), and I'd smile smugly, feeling proud. But then the next day, I'd have a workout with heavy barbells, and no amount of willpower would allow me to lift the barbell and lift it quickly while keeping good form.

A few conversations with my head coach helped me realize that my competitive spirit will help bring results for any goal, but that when it comes to heavy lifting, there's a cardinal rule: Technique first, consistency second, and intensity last. “I love how competitive you are and how eager you are to learn and get better,” she told me. “My advice to you: There's no rush. CrossFit isn't going anywhere. Take it slow, learn, work hard, trust the process. You'll end up where you're supposed to be.”

Rest days aren't a sign of weakness

When it comes to getting stronger, you need two things: First, you need to work your muscles, which causes little tears in the muscle fibers. Then, your muscles need to repair themselves, which is a process that requires rest.

Before CrossFit, I would go to the gym six to seven times a week. I stuck to that same schedule when I started CrossFit. I often went seven days a week because it was all so new and fun. My workouts lasted an hour, but sometimes I'd join some of the CrossFit vets for an additional workout afterward. Surprise, surprise: I got an overtraining injury.

Six days of heavy weights and intense intervals every week is too much, and I probably would have gotten stronger faster if I had stuck to just four or five days a week and actually given my body the time it needed to recover between sessions.

The mind is a muscle that needs to be trained

Anyone can do CrossFit: The workouts are scalable, which means that people of all fitness levels can come to a box and do the workout of the day. But CrossFit is no joke. When it comes to barbells, box jumps, and burpees, you need more than physical strength. You need mental toughness.

If you want to achieve your best performance on a workout, you must be willing to suffer–we call it “finding the pain cave.” When you're trying to snag a personal best, your body and mind work against you. But the pain cave is a place where I'm forced to ask myself just how much I'm willing to give to reach my goals.

Building the toughness necessary to endure the pain cave isn't as easy as dropping to the floor and cranking out 20 push-ups. It takes work to get your brain to a point where it is willing to push longer and harder than it ever has before–and to know when to tone down the intensity. During my first year of CrossFit, I had to train my brain every single day through practices like journaling, meditation, and breathing exercises.

You don't need to switch your eating habits to match your friends

Paleo. Whole30. IIFYM. Before these diets went mainstream, CrossFitters were jazzed on them. Until I started CrossFit, I didn't realize the nuances of these diets.

I've dipped my toes in the waters of all of these diets for anywhere from a week to a month, and I always come out thinking the same thing: They're just not worth it to me! Counting macros may work for certain goals, but it is hella time consuming, and it made me obsessed with food.

Similarly, while I liked the Paleo diet (and it's even stricter cousin Whole30) in theory–lots of veggies, protein, healthy fats, some fruit, and no grains or dairy sounded okay–in practice, I became a hangry monster. Basically, cutting out all grains and added sugars meant that I ate fewer carbs, and carbs are really important when you're exercising regularly.

While I thought trying out my friends' eating habits would be a fun bonding activity, it always just ends up making me grumpy.

Abs really are made in the kitchen

A month into my stunt as a CrossFitter, I had the flattest stomach I'd had up until that point. Which meant I had a new-found confidence to strut around the gym in my sports bra after every sweat sesh.

But while I looked good, I was getting tired four hours into my workday and didn't have the energy I used to. Could I have mono a second time? Why was this happening?

My coach guessed it: I was under-eating. My go-to meals and daily intake hadn't changed after I'd joined CrossFit, and I wasn't giving myself the fuel I needed to power through–and then recover from–the high-intensity workouts.

With a little guidance from the coaches in my gym and phone calls with a nutritionist, I revved up my breakfasts to include more protein and complex carbohydrates (wahoo for sweet and nutty overnight oats!) and made a point to have a snack between lunch and dinner. Suddenly my energy levels shot back up–and my abs have only gotten more defined.

RELATED: 11 Reasons Why You're Not Losing Belly Fat

CrossFitters make great friends

CrossFit isn't just special for its high intensity and unique lingo; there's also a surprising level of camaraderie. I used to think that made CrossFit a cult, but it's way more accurate to simply call it what it is: a community.

People usually work out at the same time every evening, so you end up spending five to seven hours a week with the same crew of 20 who are similarly interested in health and fitness.

While the concept of breaking a sweat with someone as relationship-building is not unique to CrossFit, in CrossFit “working out” really means something much more specific. It means changing your life and the lives of those you sweat alongside; it means being pushed physically harder than you've ever been pushed with a group; and it means calloused high fives, fist pumps, and even sweaty group hugs.

0 notes

foursprouthealth-blog · 6 years ago

Text

My CrossFit Transformation Was Much More Drastic Than I Expected–But Not for the Reason You'd Think

New Post has been published on http://foursprout.com/health/my-crossfit-transformation-was-much-more-drastic-than-i-expectedndashbut-not-for-the-reason-youd-think/

My CrossFit Transformation Was Much More Drastic Than I Expected–But Not for the Reason You'd Think

Most people start CrossFit because they’re looking to lose weight, or get stronger, or get into the best shape of their life. Having played rugby in college, taught Zumba, finished a marathon, and taken up bodybuilding, for me, CrossFit wasn’t about the physical promises. I joined a CrossFit box (as the gyms are called) because I needed a job.

I moved to New York for what was, at the time, my dream job. But six months in, I called my mother sobbing. I’d just been given notice that the company would be letting me go in two weeks’ time. The eager post-grad haze had worn off, I was no longer certain I had chosen the right career field, and I was hit with a wave of loneliness.

After living in the city for half a year, I’d failed to make any friends. Late nights at the office had taken precedence over happy hours and girl-gang hangs. And because I’d often gotten off work late, instead of sampling New York’s fitness class scene, I’d opted for a 24-hour big box gym. There, I’d do some bicep curls, walk on the stairmaster, and after about an hour, flex, take some mirror selfies, and leave.

RELATED: 25 Exercises You Can Do Anywhere

I’d talked (or at least, thought) trash about CrossFit in the past, even though if I’m being totally honest with myself, I had no reason to. But I guess there was a part of me that was a little intrigued with the whole CrossFit phenomenon and the community it promised.

While the promise of barbells alone couldn’t convince me to try CrossFit, watching a class and talking with the gym’s owner about community, fitness, and joining the two could.

After my interview, the owner called to let me know that if I tried CrossFit and liked it, he’d hire me. So I signed up for a class the very next morning. I thought taking a CrossFit class would be like updating my LinkedIn, flossing my teeth, or eating greens: a necessary evil.

Turns out, CrossFit is not a thing you just walk in and out of every once in a while. If it sticks, it sticks real good.

I’ve changed plenty since I was originally hired at the box. For one, I switched to a part-time role so that I could pursue a fitness writing career, but I still work out there and consider the box my home. Twelve months since joining the ICE NYC CrossFit community I can safely say the sport has changed my life. Here’s how.

RELATED: 7 Things to Know Before Trying CrossFit

It’s cliché, but patience is a serious virtue

Most boxes have an on-ramp process that involves learning the ropes (and basic barbell lifts and bodyweight movements), but because I had weightlifting experience from my collegiate days I was allowed to pass over those sessions. (If you’re thinking about joining a box, take advantage of these offerings; I regret missing the learning opportunity). Even though I had fitness experience, it still took a long time to figure out what the heck I was doing.

CrossFit defines itself as constantly varied functional movements performed at high intensities, and that constantly varied part… it’s a lot. There’s the snatch, and then there’s the power snatch. There’s also a hang power snatch, and a hang squat snatch.

This variety is part of what makes it fun; you get to try so. many. different. things! But that also means there’s an unending stream of things to learn. The go-go-go New Yorker in me loved the exhaustive list of exercises, but the athlete in me felt overwhelmed by the variety.

I had to learn to be patient with myself and my body. If I forgot the difference between a hang, a squat, and a power clean, I had to learn to ask. If I couldn’t string together more than a few pull-ups, I had to ask for drills that would help me be able to… eventually. I gave myself permission to not know what the heck I was doing, and then developed the patience necessary to be okay with the learning curve.

Winning isn’t everything

And sometimes I did. Sometimes I’d take the top of the leaderboard on a bodyweight WOD (which stands for workout of the day), and I’d smile smugly, feeling proud. But then the next day, I’d have a workout with heavy barbells, and no amount of willpower would allow me to lift the barbell and lift it quickly while keeping good form.

A few conversations with my head coach helped me realize that my competitive spirit will help bring results for any goal, but that when it comes to heavy lifting, there’s a cardinal rule: Technique first, consistency second, and intensity last. “I love how competitive you are and how eager you are to learn and get better,” she told me. “My advice to you: There’s no rush. CrossFit isn’t going anywhere. Take it slow, learn, work hard, trust the process. You’ll end up where you’re supposed to be.”

Rest days aren’t a sign of weakness

Before CrossFit, I would go to the gym six to seven times a week. I stuck to that same schedule when I started CrossFit. I often went seven days a week because it was all so new and fun. My workouts lasted an hour, but sometimes I’d join some of the CrossFit vets for an additional workout afterward. Surprise, surprise: I got an overtraining injury.

The mind is a muscle that needs to be trained

If you want to achieve your best performance on a workout, you must be willing to suffer–we call it “finding the pain cave.” When you’re trying to snag a personal best, your body and mind work against you. But the pain cave is a place where I’m forced to ask myself just how much I’m willing to give to reach my goals.

Building the toughness necessary to endure the pain cave isn’t as easy as dropping to the floor and cranking out 20 push-ups. It takes work to get your brain to a point where it is willing to push longer and harder than it ever has before–and to know when to tone down the intensity. During my first year of CrossFit, I had to train my brain every single day through practices like journaling, meditation, and breathing exercises.

You don’t need to switch your eating habits to match your friends

Paleo. Whole30. IIFYM. Before these diets went mainstream, CrossFitters were jazzed on them. Until I started CrossFit, I didn’t realize the nuances of these diets.

I’ve dipped my toes in the waters of all of these diets for anywhere from a week to a month, and I always come out thinking the same thing: They’re just not worth it to me! Counting macros may work for certain goals, but it is hella time consuming, and it made me obsessed with food.

Similarly, while I liked the Paleo diet (and it’s even stricter cousin Whole30) in theory–lots of veggies, protein, healthy fats, some fruit, and no grains or dairy sounded okay–in practice, I became a hangry monster. Basically, cutting out all grains and added sugars meant that I ate fewer carbs, and carbs are really important when you’re exercising regularly.

While I thought trying out my friends’ eating habits would be a fun bonding activity, it always just ends up making me grumpy.

Abs really are made in the kitchen

A month into my stunt as a CrossFitter, I had the flattest stomach I’d had up until that point. Which meant I had a new-found confidence to strut around the gym in my sports bra after every sweat sesh.

But while I looked good, I was getting tired four hours into my workday and didn’t have the energy I used to. Could I have mono a second time? Why was this happening?

My coach guessed it: I was under-eating. My go-to meals and daily intake hadn’t changed after I’d joined CrossFit, and I wasn’t giving myself the fuel I needed to power through–and then recover from–the high-intensity workouts.

RELATED: 11 Reasons Why You’re Not Losing Belly Fat

CrossFitters make great friends

CrossFit isn’t just special for its high intensity and unique lingo; there’s also a surprising level of camaraderie. I used to think that made CrossFit a cult, but it’s way more accurate to simply call it what it is: a community.

People usually work out at the same time every evening, so you end up spending five to seven hours a week with the same crew of 20 who are similarly interested in health and fitness.

While the concept of breaking a sweat with someone as relationship-building is not unique to CrossFit, in CrossFit “working out” really means something much more specific. It means changing your life and the lives of those you sweat alongside; it means being pushed physically harder than you’ve ever been pushed with a group; and it means calloused high fives, fist pumps, and even sweaty group hugs.

#Health

0 notes

shroudedrob · 7 years ago

Text

DK200 - 20:59:03

Many people are writing excellent epic race reports on Dirty Kanza 200 this week. I’m going to stick to a simple story… how I would up finishing a 21-hour race with only 57 seconds left. I promise this is my best effort at telling you the truth. It’s important that we start there, because from mile 140 my Dirty Kanza was all about lies.

The first half of DK200 looked like this.

You can jump right in with me after Checkpoint 2 (mile 102) with a couple of quick facts:

Before DK200 my longest gravel ride ever was 102 miles at DK100 last year.

My training plans last winter were shattered by parenting, family illness, and generally being an adult. I managed many late-night hour-long trainer sessions, but I never got the fitness I wanted.

Leaving Checkpoint 2, (Eureka, 102 miles) I was enjoying beautiful conditions, feeling good, on track with an 11.5mph pace and looking forward to an 18-hour finish time.

Feeling good at Checkpoint 2.

Then the hammer fell. From miles 112-122 we slowpokes still on the south end of the route got pummeled by an hour-long thunderstorm. I pulled on my rain jacket and kept riding, even when I couldn’t see beyond 20 feet… what else was there to do? Land Run taught it’s lesson well: don’t stop for rain.

Eventually the rain eased as we turned north, and for the first time I was truly tired. The last hour had been a beating and for the first time I had something really dangerous… an excuse to quit.

The hammer.

Still, I was smiling and still looking forward to a potential 18.5-hour finish time. The groups I had been riding with were scattered to the wind, but a few riders still around when the Jeep club support team started intercepting us to detour around a flash flood.

Trusting another lesson from Land Run I was babying my drivetrain, dodging the post-rain mud bogs and walking as needed. A low water crossing let me to clean things up a bit. Still, even with a clean-looking drivetrain, gravel can be cruel. It was around round mile 140 I heard a horrible thud as my derailleur, without warning, was sucked into my rear wheel. Amazingly, planning for this scenario paid off and I didn’t turn the crank even a single degree as I unclipped and coasted to a stop. I sighed and prepared to convert to single speed, but instead managed to free the spoke that was kissing a jockey wheel and gingerly ease back into riding up with gears. I held my breath but as long as I stayed out of the granny gear the bike was noisy but still rolling.

I could still ride, and if I had to I could still convert to single speed. But now I was armed with excuse #2: the bike is broken.

At the same time, probably because I had opened the door to excuses, two more snuck in. First, the rain had killed my iPhone. I still had a SPOT tracker running and could signal for help if I needed to, but mentally the phone was a big deal. I also realized that my stomach had stopped processing food, and wanted to send back anything I put in. Unpleasant, and potentially a big deal to a diabetic who can literally bonk to death.

So here we are. Mile 140 and I had enough excuses to tell myself the big lie: I could roll into Checkpoint 3 and quit without feeling shame.

Over the next 20 miles I didn’t see any other riders or Jeeps. I did, however, start having to fight my blood sugar down. The Dexcom device that monitors my glucose levels got fouled by mud and failed. I started wondering how safely a diabetic who couldn’t keep food down could survive in the dark without a cellular phone. Excuse #5.

While my mind fed me lies I saw a single red blinking light up the road a mile or more away. Who did that light belong to? I slowly reeled it in to see who else was still riding through this craziness.

Early in the day. Photo credit to Kim Morris @ http://kimmorris.com.

There, at mile 160, was where I met my new best friend Sharon.

When I caught Sharon she was standing at an unmarked dirt road crossing, studying route cards in the dark. It turns out my Wahoo GPS had jumped right back on track after the flood detour, but her Garmin never got back on track. I offered to lead the way the last few miles into Checkpoint 3, and as we got to know each other I realized I was no longer a diabetic alone in the dark.

I was glad for the company, but I saw one of my excuses slipping away. Without the safety issue I could probably go on, but the bike was now shifting itself often. I decided if I could sort out the mechanical issue at the stop I might roll on, but if it was I would probably call it a day.

We rolled in to Checkpoint 3 at 10:12pm, 30 minutes before it would close. Shanon headed off to to find her drop bags, with a promise to regroup soon and figure out what happens next. Once again I was surprised by my wonderful wife. I expected sympathy and concern. That probably would have ended my day. Instead I got a hug and a smile, before she switched into no-nonsense mode. “What do you need? We need to get you moving. The bike has a problem? Just give it to me and take care of yourself… I have a surprise.”

Surprise? It was late, and the Checkpoint was emptying fast. Who could possibly still be around?

youtube

The unstoppable Bobby Wintle

Bobby Wintle, of course. Bobby and a pack of the District Bicycles group had hung out after their own last rider had come through, to help and encourage a pair of riders they didn’t know. While I caught my breath, visited the port-o-john, and tried to regroup they swarmed my bike like pirahnas. I know Bobby straightened my bent hanger to get my shifting back in shape, but Bobby wouldn’t stop until it was shifting great and my brakes were adjusted. When Sharon rolled up the jumped on her bike like a Nascar pit crew too.

In just a few minutes metal had been bent, hugs had been given by family and new friends. My excuses were revealed for the lies they were. Then Robin showed me videos my 6-year-old twin boys had sent from home. “We’re pretending bike race, Daddy! Never give up! Never give up!”

What could I say? “Dammit. Come on Sharon. Let’s ride.”

We had lost a lot of time. Still, we had about 4 hours to do about 45 miles. It shouldn’t be a problem. With all the big climbs behind us 11.25 mph would be easy.

Over the next hour Sharon and I got to know each other. I learned about her husband Carlos, her love of riding gravel with him, her pleasure getting to know the Kanza crew at the training camp this year, and how hungry she was to rise to the challenge of DK200. After that hour I I wanted her to finish even more than I wanted myself to.

I could tell she was worried about my blood sugar, and I was worried about her legs that seemed to be running out of steam. I promised I wouldn’t leave her out there, and that we would cross that line together.

But, we had a big problem. Looking at my GPS I could see what she couldn’t: we were going 1-2 mph too slow to beat the clock, and we weren’t getting any faster. My instinct to push the pace by bombing every downhill in the dark was leaving her behind, and the combination of caution and tired legs simply wouldn’t get us there in time.

I could hear in her voice how bad she wanted this. I did too. When her voice cracked I could feel how tired her legs were. Mine weren’t much better. I jumped in front, stayed off the brakes, and promised I’d call out anything wet, loose, or rocky before she crossed it. That helped, but not enough. The computer said we weren’t going to make it. So, I did what anyone would do to encourage their new best friend in the dark.

I lied my ass off.

“13 mph will get us there in time! You’ve done 13 all day!”

She, like me, was right at a 9.6mph average.

“Just another hour! You’ve done this for 19 hours already! One more is nothing!”

We were still nearly 2 hours from the end.

“That’s it! You’re doing 14! 14 will get it you there in time!”

We were turning 16-17mph.

“45 more minutes! You can push it for 45 more minutes!”

One hour, 20 minutes to go.

I did keep repeating one thing that was 100% true: “You are going to do this. We are going to do this together. I’m not crossing that line without you.”

It turns out Sharon is far stronger than she thought she was. I could tell she was hurting in the dark, but she was getting faster. I could hear her hurting. She fell off my wheel, and then clawed right back. But she never, ever stopped.

Just a few miles out of town I realized I had one excuse left. There’s an ugly but real truth about an exercising diabetic: hypoglycemia is a monster. Just walking around my body can run out of glucose and literally bonk to death. I had been riding 19+ hours, and hadn’t been able to keep carbs down for the last 4. Sensors jammed in my side usually give me an early warning system, but the conditions had killed them just like my iPhone, hours ago. I started to get dizzy and just wanted to pull over, shovel sugar in my face, and wait for my body to feel human again.

At this point, however, any stop would end my chance to beat the clock. I could accept coming in a few minutes late, but not unless I had exhausted every option. By now I was soft-pedaling, probably only doing 5mph. I’m sure the spotters were telling the people at the line to start shutting down. I was shouting at Sharon that I was alright and not to stop. I heard my boys’ voices again, singing the song they had sent me earlier. “Never give up, Daddy! Never give up.” I had a few packs of Glukos, water mixed with glucose in a form so simple it hits you near-instantly. That wasn’t for fuel; that was for emergencies. I pounded two, trusting that even if I collapsed it would do it’s job before I passed out, and made myself pick up the pace rolling up the last climb into town and the downhill to the line.

youtube

Thanks to whoever captured this and passed it along to my wife.

My vision narrowed to a tunnel. I believed that Sharon had listened I said I was alright and pushed on ahead. I put my head down, trusting that the crowd would be thinned out and those left would stay out of my way, and turned the cranks. I was amazed to see Jim Cummins still at the line, and the clock still running. Our great friends John, Mike, and Kaat helped grab my things and delivered hugs… I’m still grateful they had stayed up after their own long days to see me come in. Of course my partner/crew/best friend Robin was there for me. Just like she had been all day.

I asked and someone assured me Sharon had made it. Then they told me I had made it in with only 43 seconds to spare (the official clock ended up being 51 seconds, but who’s counting). My first thought? I’ll make the midnight club next year.

Then I laid down in the street for a little nap.

20:59:03

P.S. for Sharon. I would have stopped in Madison without you. Your enthusiasm in those last miles before CP3 convinced me I could keep going. Then your drive convinced me I had to keep going. I told you we’d cross that line together in time, and we did. Do you forgive me for lying a bit in those last couple of hours? I told you your legs were lying to you!

Finish

0 notes