Dear Renters across the Street...

What started as a simple facebook status update turned into a running joke with my husband and I. The renters are perfectly nice and normal. These are imaginary words to them about our strange workout habits. This might not be the end of this series. We're full of ourselves when it comes to Crossfit.

PS: This could be equally ridiculous to most folks like gallon smashing, but thought I'd share.

Dear renters across the street,
I apologize for you having to accidentally seeing me lose myself in the gym during "lose yourself". The beat overtook me, my head started bobbing, dancing ensued. Come on over to join in the ridiculousness. And hard work. And lose yourself.

Dear Renters across the street,
I am sorry I alarmed you this morning with the horrible sounds of birthing pains and ongoing labor from our garage. At best it sounded like a heavy makeout session with my husband. But yeah! I PRed. A feat I thought was impossible and would never had wished apon a star a few years ago. Seriously sorry. And we love Jesus and homeschool.

Dear Renters across the street,
About me taking my shirt off mid WOD baring my sports bra mama times two belly. I dropped it like it was hot. Perhaps the last thing you wanted to see before going to work. But when you own the gym, you make the rules. PS: I perform my own stunts.

Dear Renters across the street,
What you thought you saw was me almost barfing. What you really saw was me leaning over to recharge my super powers. Do not be deceived. Magic happens.

Dear Renters across the street,
We decided we're getting a big tractor tire. Your driveway is flatter. We know the owners.