Oh, man! I remember the raw power of being in third grade and calling someone a jerk on the playground at recess (in response to them trying to rip the centerfold of Shaun Cassidy in the new issue of Tiger Beat!). “Jerk” was the most insulting insult I could muster up, and the hard K at the end just kinda hung in the air. I’m thinking of bringing jerk back to my vocabulary. It’s so quaint, plus I love a word that’s both a noun and a verb.
Today, my double-unders were being big jerks. During the workout, I only managed to string together two or three before the rope got caught on my feet or whipped my arms or, most embarrassing and frustrating of all, simply didn’t spin fast enough and flopped onto my head. Is there anything as exasperating as knowing how to do double-unders in your noggin, but not being able to do them in a workout?!
Naturally, when the workout was over, and I was screwing around, I did 17 picture-perfect, unbroken double-unders. Jerks!
Happily, the jerks were not jerks; they were awesome.
10 seated DB press, 25# DBs, rest :90
10 American swings, 20kg KB, rest 2:00
30 double-unders or 90 singles
3 jerks @ 70-75%, 70#
My time: 15:32
Ahem. THIS was the object of my 8-year-old affection. I would sit on the floor of my bedroom, with my head right next to the speaker, gazing at the album cover and Shaun’s feathered hair. [The white satin pants – and ohmygod are those espadrilles on his feet?! – in the video are really... something.] It’s all a far cry from Mr. Mike Ness, no?
Any jerks or jerks in your workout today?
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