This blog post could also have been called “These are a few of my least favorite things.”
Our CrossFit Women workout this morning:
10 – 15 – 20 – 15- 10 reps, 20-minute max:
- thrusters, 50-lbs.
Let’s take them one at a time, shall we?
I’ve documented my disdain and disgust for thrusters here and here and at every workout ever in the history of my CrossFit experience ever that included thrusters. I hate ‘em. I pretend to love-hate ‘em, but honestly, I just hate them. Hate. Them.
Today was my first time ever doing them with a barbell. The elite weight was 65, but I wasn’t sure I could do 80 reps at that weight and 80 pullups , so I went 50 pounds. Fifty pounds was plenty challenging. Plenty.
I still hate them.
Oh, pullups. I dislike you too much to even grant you the honor of a place on my arch nemesis list.
So… the good news that I’ve been keeping to myself because for some reason I feel shy and protective about it: last week I did a deadhang chin-up. And I’ve done sets of 3 and 4 every other day since. I can only make it over the bar if my tippy-tippy-toes are on the ground or a box, and I can only do it with my hands in chin-up position (palms facing in), but I pulled like a motherf’er, and got my chin over the bar… like, a total of a dozen times now.
The bad news: I have no kip. None. I need to keep practicing that swing ’til I get it. But until then, every workout that includes lots of pullups is an exercise in frustration. I started on the blue band this morning (approximate width: 1 inch) and eventually had to make the switch to the green (1.5 inches). F*ck.
I ripped the callouses off my palms – no bleeding or raw skin – and now have blisters in their place. Sexy!
This may be TMI, but I’m among friends, right? Anytime I do more than, say, 50 situps in a row, I rub my butt raw. My tailbone grinds against the ground, the mat, the floor, whatever surface on which I’ve parked my fanny, and the top layer of skin scrapes off.
I know! Gross, right?
The funny/not funny thing is that this didn’t always happen. I was the weird girl that didn’t like to use a mat for situps. “Just the floor for me, thanks. It’s more comfortable this way.” Now I simply cannot find enough padding back there.
I like to pretend it’s ’cause I’ve lost body fat. That’s it, right? I’m too damn skinny now. [excuse me for a sec...OK! Back from laughing so hard I cried. I can now continue to tell my story.]
When Crystal called time, I was just starting my final set of 10 situps, so I brought it home. My time? Something like 20:15.
In the car after class, I dug into my bananas+Sunbutter, and it. was. Good.
I met Dave at 7:00 a.m. (just getting light out then) and went to the hike & bike trail for our CrossFit Endurance workout: 1/4-mile warmup run, followed by as many :20 on/:10 recovery intervals as it took to get to the 1-mile mark.
It took us 16 intervals to cover the distance. That’s a double tabata. It was… interesting. Really hard, but kinda fun. Over fast, yet endless. Earlier in the morning, Carla joked that I would have lots of opportunities to make up stories during each run. “This time I’m being chased my a lion… this time I’m chasing after a spy… this time I’m being run down by an ogre.”
I thought of nothing during those intervals. I was completely incapable of making up stories ’cause I was trying so hard to keep breathing. Running fast is Hard.
Yay, sprints! Yay, thrusters! Yay, pullups! Yay, stupid butt!
Hell, yeah and hallelujah for water, Sunbutter, and superheros like Carla and Dave and Crystal and Bonita and Amy and all of you out there for making it impossible for me to quit. Some days it’s a celebration, and some days, misery needs a little company to make it happy-misery.
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