I say a similar line to my students all the time, "Make an effort, not an excuse."

So...even though I don't wanna go. Even though I'd rather have the super mean lady who cleaned my teeth last time do it again, rather than go running, I'm going. Even though my trainers never go easy on me and never let me get super good at something before they add on the next try-not-to-die task, I'm going. Even though I have a cold, I shall be at the track at 6:30 tomorrow morning...with mother freakin' bells on.

I'm gonna make the effort, even though I totally wanna make an excuse. And then when I'm done, I'll be glad I made the effort. See you in the morning boys!

I have been working out, on and off (with LOTS of off) since I was 14 years old. When I'm on, I'm on...and when I'm off, I'm so freaking lazy. But why? Why do I ever stop exercising and/or eating right?!

I feel amazing when I'm on it. I just did a work-out that was so hard I seriously wanted to hurt people.

At the end I was seeing spots. SEEING SPOTS! My heart rate got up to 194 bpm and I really thought I might pass out. But I didn't. I finish. I finished strong and now (after a meal, a bath, and me sitting on this couch), I feel great.

Every time my friends and I are working out we are happier, we are calmer, we are everything positive.

I found this quote and I think it sums it up.


So...here's me on my soapbox, since at this very moment I am 100% on it with my working out and 98% 97% 80% on it with my eating.

Just start. If you are on your couch and haven't moved your ass in months, move it. Then, tomorrow, move it again, and keep going until you feel amazing (which will be so much sooner than you think).

I am 100% convinced that almost all of our Nation's "aliments" from diabetes, to cancer to depression can be cured by 2 things-1. A sensible very minimally processed diet (think: fruit, vegetables, and some protein) and 2. Exercise (think: move your ass).

So, we're a few weeks in to our CF Challenge. Here's how things are going so far: I feel good, but sore. It's a good sore though, it's never so bad I can't move, it's just a "I know I worked out" feeling. I have SO MUCH MORE ENERGY. I'm happier during the day, less annoyed with little things and actually really look forward to going to the gym.

I am super aware of what I'm putting in my mouth and how it will affect my energy level and workouts (good news). I actually take time to chew my food and digest it...what a freakin' concept. My pants fit a little better...a little better... but I'm frustrated that the scale hasn't showed any weight loss yet :( JB told me to stay off of it but that's virtually impossible for me.

I know I'm getting stronger. I never wonder if I'll complete my WOD anymore. I know I'll get it done, now it's just a matter of upping the intensity/weight. I'm still, by far, the worst one in my class...but progress is progress and this is a race against myself not other people. Besides, the guys in my classes are super great and always encouraging.

In the next few months, I want to be in a smaller size. I want to be able to move from ring rows to the bands. I wanna front squat 73 lbs (instead of 53). I want to run a mile without stopping. I want. I want...and I will.


I can't say enough good things about CF 480. I love Justin, Brian, and Derek. They have taken an active interest in me and my health, in fact more of an interest than I was taking in myself for a while. They're encouraging, yet expect my best every time. They say things like, "Wow, you did that WOD with more intensity than I have ever seen," and in the next breath they say, "Pick up the pace Katie. Go faster!" They're understanding of where I'm starting and make me believe that I'll only get stronger and better.

In addition to them there is something amazing to be said about the CF community. I say that because my friend is a CFer and she says, "It's a Crossfit thing." I've never met a more encouraging group of people in my life. Just when you think you've done everything you can and are ready to quit, someone appears over you and says, "You're almost done. Come on," and you finish what you never thought you could.

Why in the hell would anyone in their right mind choose to do a job where they will be poor forever?

Summers off? Who gives a shit…I’m so broke that when I have time off, I can hardly afford to sit in my house.

And, ladies, I hope you’re already married because and the most action I get inside the school halls is when a kid happens to break an arm and I walk by the firefighters on my way to lunch…which, in 9 years, has happened 3 times…3 excellent times.

And last week…last week 2 parents yelled at me, 1 of which was cussing. And one of my students told me he hated me and wished he had a new teacher. And when I asked the students to write the characteristics of an exemplary teacher on a sticky note, one of them wrote: fun and calm and NOT YOU. And Topher’s desk was right next to my desk and he gets his shit all over the floor and eats breakfast as well as my 9 month old niece.

And last week I got a new student who hates everyone and glares at me for 7.5 hours every day. And I got another new student whose discipline record is so long it needs binding, not a staple.

And my kids bombed their Reading test. And I had a meeting with my student’s parents that lasted until 7pm…and didn’t get paid a dime for it. And I taught every freaking day from 8:30 in the morning until 4:10…and then went to bus duty.

Why would anyone choose to be a teacher?

Because…you know what else happened last week?

And that kid who told me he hated me participated more in his lesson than he ever has and was beaming with pride when he got to wear his Student of the Month shirt. Then he walked up to a new student and told her that she was in charge of her attitude…because that’s what I used to tell him everyday.

When that kid wrote that mean note to me…20 other ones wrote, someone with high expectations who loves her kids…you. And the next day, he looked at me and knew I knew he wrote it…and gave me the biggest, most genuine hug ever.

And this week, that kid whose desk is right next to mine switched schools…and I cried because I worry about whether everyone will be as kind to him as my kids are. And I cried because he’s a better eater than he was when he came into my room. And I cried because I know that our school was a good place for him…and I was making a difference in his life…and now he’s gone…and I only knew him for a month…but if I live 100 years, I will never forget him.

That’s why I teach.

That new student who hates the world is one of my brightest kids and when I told her, today, that she was absolutely beautiful but when she was rude to other people she looked so ugly, she listened…and she was nice for the rest of the day.

My other new student…with the book bound discipline record that could wallpaper the school…I’ve known him since before he could walk. I taught his sister 9 years ago and went to her high school graduation after she got pregnant in high school, coming from a school where the dropout rate is 50%...I was at her graduation. She was the first in her family. I expect big things from her brother…perhaps he’ll be the first to go to college. Yesterday another kid stole a CD and gave it to him and he didn’t take it because he didn’t want to be a part of it…such progress and he’s only been there 2 days.

That Reading test they bombed…they only bombed part of it. On the other part of it, the district average was that 46% of them met the standard and in my class 90% of them did.

During my parent meeting I cried when I told them how much I love their kids. Then parents hugged me and thanked me for loving their kids and always expecting their best…and that was worth more than money can buy.

I could stand here for 12 hours and tell you why I do this job. I could tell you stories of kids who have grabbed my heart and taken pieces with them each time they leave my room.

I hate the beginning of the year. I hate teaching kids all of my procedures. I hate that I have to get to know all these little strangers. I hate that I have to work so hard to make them love books. The hours are longer than ever in the beginning of the year. And at the end of every single year, I cry. I cry because my family is leaving and I know that class will never come again. And every year I say, “That was the best class I’ve ever had.” and I genuinely mean it.

This job, these kids are worth every second spent and every tear ever shed on their behalf.

The world needs amazing teachers who are passionate about what they are doing. That’s you. This profession is the greatest profession in the world. Every minute of every single day, you are changing the future. Your words, your lesson, and your passion are powerful. Thank you for choosing to teach.

There are a lot of things that keep me healthy but my brother is, by far, the biggest thing that keeps me smiling, laughing and moving forward. So, I dedicate this blog to him. To you, Thomas James...you better read it.


Mr. Alpha Male who runs his mouth and often gets in trouble for it, just might be the most selfless person I know, which is saying a lot because my father has had that title for quite some time.

My brother has been described as one of the most brash individuals on the planet. I wouldn’t ever recommend to someone to go to him for some kind and caring words to soothe their souls (although sometimes he still surprises me with that one). There are many times that he doesn’t think things through before he says them and I end up crying because of what he’s said, to which he replies, “Katie, I’m not going to coddle you. You need to get tougher.” Ah, Thomas James.

From this one could get quite a misconception of who my brother is…

On a daily basis, his actions are screaming to the rest of the world…what an incredible person he is. For Christmas this year, Tom took his son to the pottery painting place and put his son and daughter’s handprints on a mug for me because he knows that I am completely enamored by his children. I’m sure getting a two-year old and month old baby’s hands covered in paint and onto a coffee cup was no easy task.

I could list a million things he’s done but this one tops the list. This story is so amazing that it could be a movie. I will try to do it justice, but my writing is just not that good.

It’s a random Thursday, in June, and a paper comes through Tom’s Navy mailbox. Check yes or no. Would you be willing to donate bone marrow if you were ever called to do so? Tom, thinking, sure, I’d do that, checks yes.

Years go by. The paper is long forgotten. Most people who check that box never get a phone call.

On Wednesday, Tom gets a call and they said, “We need your bone marrow. We’d like to fly you to Washington D.C to run some tests, to be sure.” Without so much as a hesitation, Tom says, “Ok, let’s do this.”

After a trip to D.C, without his wife and kids, the tests say he is a definite match for a man with Leukemia. People tell him, “This is a very painful process. Are you sure?” “Yeah, but it could save this guy’s life. Of course I’m in.” Some were surprised but I wasn’t, not even for a second.



After all, this was MY brother…the same brother who didn’t leave the side of the kid with Cerebral Palsy and a clef lip at Gramama Lesly’s House when he was 1. This was my brother, the one whose best friend had Down Syndrome in 2nd grade. This was my brother, the one who left his friends, and all of the girls who were falling at his feet, to sit with the handicap girl at church camp.

After a few weeks, the foundation flies Tom, Danielle and Philip to Washington D.C. Tom goes to the hospital each day for four days. They inject things into his veins that soften the bone marrow, basically liquefying it getting it ready to be pulled out. Day 1-No pain. Day 2-Some pain. Days 3 and 4-Tom is sitting for hours and hours and hours with needles in him in what he describes as the very worst flu you can possibly imagine. The marrow is literally being pulled from his veins. He hardly complains and reminds us that this is going to someone who is in much more pain than him. Someone he has never met in his life.


On the way back home, Tom is hurting, bad. He can hardly walk, let alone help Danielle with the bags and the baby. As they get on the plane a woman, in quite a condescending voice, says to Danielle, “I’d never let MY husband act like that and not help me at all.” If you only knew, Mrs. Judemental. If you only knew.

The American Cancer Society says that you are to have no contact with the donor or recipient until a year has gone by. After that time period, they can write each other, if they want.

A year goes by and Tom gets 2 letters in the mail, a letter from the wife of the recipient and from the sister of him. Reading them would bring the toughest man to tears. "Tom, you have given my brother hope. You are the reason he is still alive and we are forever in your debt."

He passed away shortly after that but, The Cartier’s recently got to meet his family. In the words of my sister-in-law, they are people we would have been best friends with. Wow.

I couldn’t feel more blessed that I share the same genes at this amazing person. I love you…my best friend, my favorite person on Earth, my brother.

You keep is as gangsta as it gets...and that's just this story. It doesn't even touch the dad he is...a blog for another day.

I feel so good about today's workout. I ran. I ran 4 x 200 meters and hardly stopped at all, and that was in addition to all of the other Olympic-explosive-pop-this-bar-off-your-chest-lifting I was doing.

Ok, so it wasn't THAT explosive and I was only pressing the bar...the girl bar...with no weight, but I did 15 presses and 15 back squats with that damn bar, 4 times.

Anddddd, when they said "Knees to Elbows or chest or some shit" I did hold onto the bar and slightly move your legs but hardly at all.

This is what it should look like:
I looked like the girl in white:

All was going fine until one of my trainers said, "So, you said you'll take your measurements." I replied to this man who I'm pretty sure came out of the womb with a 6 12-pack, "Yep, and I'll put them in a drawer in my house. I'm not showing them to you." Then, he says, "Ok and I'll get that body fat caliber and we'll get that next time," and I think, yeah, you get right on that. I can't effin wait for you to measure my body fat. Maybe "next time" I'll be sick.

I shall end on a super positive note...Back to I ran. I know 4 x 200s are definitely not hard but I am the world's suckiest runner and I did it. I ran the whole time. I finished...AND, are you ready for this? I ENJOYED the running part. I don't know what's going on. Could I actually be getting better...already?!?!?! Does it all work that fast? I'm confused and happy.


So, let's recap...
* I finished my WOD! VICTORY!
* My trainer is going to punch me in the stomach with all his might take my body fat percentage next time (Do NOT look for a post on the results of this...for at least 6 months)
* I ran all of the running part! VICTORY!

Overall...GREAT CF DAY!

Top 5 Small Victories This Week

I think I do about 67 things each day that I wish I hadn't. Put too much food on my plate, got pissed at a kid for not having his homework...again, didn't make enough copies, and on it goes...every single day. But today I shall speak on the things I have done that were great.

Good for My Soul
5. I was a good grand daughter. I drove to Prescott on Monday, with my dad, to see my grandparents. I forget how happy it makes them when I visit. They had the biggest smiles on their faces. I need to do that more often.



4. I bought myself a bike. I NEED exercise that is quite, with just me. My brain, body and soul don't function well without it. I think that's why I was so happy during hiking season. So, I can't wait to ride my bike...any IT'S PINK and BLACK AND my helmet matches. SO cute!

3. It's hard to be the worst one at something but, Heather, at CF 480 today told me, "I was 50 lbs heavier when I started. It's not going to get easy, but it will change your life. Stick with it." BEST PEP TALK EVER.

Good for My Ego
2. I got Teacher of the Month. There are 10 million times a day I really wish I had done something different. I'm not as patient as I would like to be. Sometimes I think my expectations are too high. There are things I want to change about almost every lesson I teach. I'm not anywhere the teacher I need to be, but getting that award makes me want to try harder.

Sometimes I forget what a difference those little things make but I recently got this e-mail from a student I taught (hmmm, do I really wanna date myself here)7 years ago:
Hello Ms. Cartier
Do you remember me?
Even if you don't I just wanted to say i miss you very much and you are one of the BEST teachers i have ever had and i will never forget you and not only because i had such a great time being in your class (i still have the ME folder we made in your class!) but because you were always so friendly and caring towards all of your students. YOU REALLY ARE AN AMAZING TEACHER! my best memory from 6th grade was the day you surprised me at my house after i was out of the hospital. i still have the get well soon card you gave me! :D:D

So, I shall work to live up to my reputation.


1. Have I mentioned that Crossfit is hard? Have I mentioned that I'm not good at it? I think I found my one strength...Today, I lifted 105 lbs on the bar. Me.



There were 2 girls there who said, "You'd be surprised. You can do more than you think." AND I DID...WAY more than I thought I could. I think we can all do more than we think.