We are stopping through Santa Fe because it is, after all, the cultural and historical epicenter of New Mexico. It can’t be missed, right? There are museums and galleries and old churches and Government/ State capital stuff out the wing wang. Which in the chaos of all the trip planning, I forgot that we couldn’t care less about crap like that. Oh well, now that we’re here… at least we have a nice hotel to stay in. That’s got to count for something.
After spending a week in the middle of town and soaking up the hustle and bustle of Taos (not to be confused with the Hustle &Flow kinda action we soaked up thanks to our thrilling Festivus experience); we opted for the serene, slightly out of city limits resort called Bishop’s Lodge. As much as I like a city experience, it was time to enjoy some wide open spaces and nature…and a pool; and of course, most importantly, room service.
After a sound night sleep here at the Bishop’s Lodge we are ready for our day of exploring Santa Fe.
But, before I explore the real treasures of SF with my family, I will be exploring the treasures of the local Crossfit (I know, I know, roll your eyes). If you have followed the blog even haphazardly you know that when we travel I love to check out the local gyms and meet new peeps. I know it sounds semi-psycho to lots of you (and I know that because lots of you have told me that to my face…which, fuck off, btw! That is rude to call me psycho to my face. And for your info, I have never claimed to be anything other than semi to possibly full-blown psycho in several different areas and in fluctuating amounts depending on the day/minute/level of tiredness, hunger, etc.) So you go ahead and judge, you know I don’t care at all what you think anyway. 🙂
You probably also know that I do often suffer from S5WUS; oh excuse me, you may know it by its real name (that I just made up): Spontaneous 5:00 Wake Up Syndrome (that is not an AMA recognized ailment, but it soon will be…you mark my word). When the S5WUS hits and really my options are to either 1) lay wide awake in the room with four sacked out snoring machines or B) get up and get with it at a random Crossfit gym. Well, DUH. I am going with the latter.
So here we are at 5:55 AM at a Crossfit in Santa Fe. As soon as I walked into this place I knew sumthin’ was up. Most Crossfit gyms look relatively the same, pretty much bare bones: weight bars and plates, row machines, medicine balls, pull up bars,etc. And this place had all that stuff; but my attention is fixated on what’s right in the middle. This place had, right in the middle (FOR REAL) a ring…or is it a rink?…and it did have some netting, so maybe it was a cage? I can’t worry about the technical name right now, I need to figure out how to get in there. Upon (love at) first sight I was not really sure what this ring/rink/cage was for. Maybe boxing? Or kick boxing? Or just some light sparring? Again, it really does not matter because I was ever so eager to try out any of the above as long as it was in this ring/rink/cage.
Hmmmmmmm. In my best CSI fact gathering and analyzing mode, I take in all the banners, various TAPOUT paraphernalia and signage and quickly conclude that this is not only a Crossfit gym but additionally an MMA training facility. Holy Shit, JACKPOT!! I have finally found my calling. Now, truthfully, as I am finding my MMA calling and I visualizing my rise to the top of the MMA fighting world, I have no real idea what the hell MMA is. In my fantasy world (read…full blown psycho world at this point, not just the usual semi), this MMA is some combination of WWF wrestling with some karate sprinkled in and gymnastics and who knows what else. But it is definitely something I am excited to try and something I am no doubt going to be awesome at. I envision myself jumping off the ropes flying and smacking down this older broad who is sitting next to me. I am going to kick her ass. Poor thing, she is going to be so embarrassed. Oh well, not my prob. As I continue to daydream about all of the pile drivers and figure four leg locks I am going to be dishing out, the instructor calls us over to the far corner of the gym, nowhere even close to the ring/rink/cage. WHAT?? This CANNOT be happening. Maybe we just warm up over here…
But my journey to MMA Champion takes a sharp leftie onto the Boulevard of Broken Dreams as I catch a glimpse of the work out and it is just the same ole split jerks and ball slams and other BS. UGH. Wait, I am a professional MMA fighter, I am not going down with out a fight. I casually ask teacher dude if we will get time in the rink/ring/cage after the work out…and as he mocks (lovingly of course) my Southern accent he also informs me that I am nowhere close to being ready for hand to hand combat (totally serious and also totally insulted, oooops). Still, what is that supposed to mean? He has no idea how ready I am, that asshole. I smile and vow to myself to bring it up again at the end of class. I will not give in this easily (again, with the determination of an MMA world-class fighter).
We work out…blah,blah, blah, and as we get to stretching, I get to getting attention focused back to the ring/rink/cage and my desire to get some action in there. I inquire about a possible sparring, “just for fun. ” It is shot down. I remember I don’t actually even know what MMA is, so I ask more questions about what kind of fighting really goes down in there; you know feign interest to work my way in. Good call. Well, turns out that hot shot teacher dude is some sort of master in Jiu Jitsu . Whatever the fuck that is. Still with the feigning of interest, I ask for an explanation. And then like a gift from the heavens, he explains that it is a martial art made specially for smaller, weaker people to defend against bigger, stronger people. Ummmmmm, hello. ..Do you see how short and weak I am?? I need this!! We agree that we are too pressed for time today to get into the (I shit you not) “choke holds, joint locks and the techniques used to make someone pass out with my bare hands” , but if I come back tomorrow he’ll show me a few moves. Oh, hells yeah I’ll be back tomorrow, Ralph Macchio. I have some moves to learn!! (Spoiler alert: although I did go back tomorrow; prior to tomorrow and after some discussion with Danny and the kids it was agreed upon by all (except for me), that I do not, in fact, need to be embarking on a career as a 38-year-old female MMA/Jiu Jitsu fighter. And that I definitely do not need to be fucking around with choke holds and joint locks in some random gym in New Mexico Whatevs. So overprotective. I argue that I signed a waiver and listed Danny as my emergency contact, so should it go wrong, they’ll give him a ring. He reminds me he does not get cell phone service at the hotel. Really? I have crappy cell phone service to blame for my stalled Jiu Jitsu career? Who would have thunk it? Bummer right?)
Ok, we have things to do. I need to shower up and get ready for some culture and history.
We head up to Museum Hill and wander around the first, of what I have promised to be many museums. Everyone (except for me because I am still jacked up thinking about my MMA career) is pissy and not having the least bit of fun. We leave the museum and as I rattle of choices for museum #2, they revolt and demand to go back to the hotel. I am torn. I really do not want to go to another museum either, but I am trying to be cultural. No, I have no idea why I would attempt such a thing. Screw the culture. Instead we head into town to see some old buildings (read…history) and maybe drive by some state capital stuff. Or not.
We tried on some fur hats
Oh, this is where we ate the night before…so good and bad. Jury is still out on the Green Chile Apple Cheddar Pie!
We visit the oldest church in the world. (read…not really the oldest church in the world-obviously, you dumb asses- but I have no idea what this church’s claim to fame is/was…but we checked it out!!) Pictured at the confessional. oh, to be a fly on the wall.
One church and a few fur hats later and are we all square on the Santa Fe front! No one was really into it. Which I can’t really blame them, it was kind of boring. And I was pretty tired from my early morning Jiu Jitsu mastering (in my own mind of course). Not to mention, I had read about this awesome bakery/chocolate/coffee shop and I felt like visiting there would be way more fun/educational/rewarding than that stupid state capital.
If it is good enough for that goddess Giada, well, sign me up for 2!!!
Not sure if you can see both of my ginormous brownies…but also, a Mayan chocolate spiced Mocha??!! Come on. It was bomb.com!
There they are. Ate both of those damn things in somewhere around 14 minutes. I am really going to have to hit the ring/rink/cage hard tomorrow. Sigh, I wish.
Willie getting in on the baked goods with a croissant the size of his (albeit pea sized) head
Some brotherly bonding.
Brotherly bonding gone horribly wrong and the start of Will’s train wreck into temper tantrum…me reprimanding him for the finger gesture. Which still makes me giggle, but he is only 8, he should probably reign it in a bit.
Which I think is an appropriate stopping place. Because really, how can you follow-up a photo of your 8-year-old flipping off the camera? Sadly, I have more where that came from.
reedymania 