Most mornings during the week, Kat and I have breakfast together at home after our own individual training sessions and before we both move onto our next thing in the day. It’s the time when we dig into one another and really check in with one another. It almost feels like a little daily therapy session.
As I’m making my coffee, I ask Kat how she’s doing. She looks off into the distance and says with great certainty, “I feel like my mind is just really clear right now, you know? I’m just so grounded.”
I can see and feel the confidence in her body language and her voice. I love when people feel like this because I’ve had that feeling and know how it can give you a sense that all of your “pieces” are working in harmony. Like you’ve found this inner peace that you can now build off of. It’s the best.
Just as we’re both sort of subconsciously connecting through Kat’s newfound enlightenment, I open the cupboard to get a coffee mug…and, find Kat’s carton of oat milk. Inside the cabinet alongside all of the mugs. Literally, as she’s still elaborating on her newfound clarity.
Now, getting Kat to help out with the recycling is what we’ll call a “project” for me. I recently figured her out, though. I wrote our names up on our kitchen chalkboard and spots for tally marks so it’s very clear who is doing their share of recycling runs to the outside bins. This has been very “helpful” for her level of motivation.
So helpful that as I was leaving the other morning that happened to be recycling collection day in our neighborhood, I noticed that Kat had brought all of the barrels back to the house before she left. I’m not sure I ever remember that happening in all of the years that this girl has lived with us. It almost brought tears to my eyes; I have never been so proud of her. Even after winning the CrossFit Games. Twice.
Until the next morning, when I went to bring the recycling outside from the kitchen to see that the recycling bins were all completely full. It dawned on me that Kat had rolled both bins in from the street BEFORE the truck had even emptied them, and never even noticed that they were full of two weeks worth of recycling.
We get it. Katrin Davidsdottir is SO strong that she can’t even feel the difference between empty and full recycling bins. Like, big ones. Big, full ones.
So, while…yes…she was making a wonderful effort, now Ben had to load up his truck at 5am with the recycling bins and drive them to the receptacle at the gym to empty them because we were now in the middle of a recycling crisis at our home.
I’m beginning to wonder if it’s time to transition our little daily therapy sessions to actual, official therapy sessions with someone more qualified at analyzing her mental space better than myself.
At least, as Ben said, “she’s in the game now.”