September 12, 2013. WOD #138. See, Cline isn't the only one with a fancy spreadsheet listing all his WODs. To be fair, mine isn't current anymore. Once I joined Barbulls, I stopped keeping track of workouts and I never got the urge to start up again. WOD #138 was 7 rounds for time of 1 20 ft rope climb, along with 10 deadlifts (275/185). Seemed reasonable enough. I didn't even go into full blown crazy mode and try to attempt RX. I went with 225 pounds, as I thought I could get through rounds of 10 deadlifts at that weight. Not strung together, but in a reasonable amount of time. Let's just call it partially crazy.
Why am I dredging up memories of this workout? Because in the just over 2 years I have been at Crossfit KOP, I have only quit two workouts: this one and the 12 Days of Christmas. I have been time capped a disturbing number of times at the gym, but only twice have I said "no mas". And even though the 12 Days of Christmas was different this year, there was some satisfaction in completing that workout a year after crying uncle. But WOD #138? That one hasn't come up again as far as I know. And I'm not sure I'd want it to. My notes from that day: "20 foot rope climb in round 1, rope pulls the next three rounds. 225 pound deadlifts for rounds 1 and 2, 205 pound deadlifts for rounds 3 and 4. Stopped at 16:12 after 4 rounds. Body fell apart."
Tonight, my body fell apart again. In three minutes. I'm not sure a three minute workout is worthy of a blog post, but my intention in writing this blog is to give the good and the bad, the triumphs and whatever the fuck tonight was. After spending some time yesterday trying to learn kipping, I wanted to give 15.2 another go this evening. I couldn't stop thinking about what I needed to do to get my chest to that bar. Open the hip. Violently close the shoulders. Big pull. While I was sitting in my chair at work today, I started rocking back and forth as I thought about what I needed to do during my second attempt at 15.2. I had drifted off so much that I didn't see someone walk up beside me while I was doing this. Not embarrassing at all.
I still felt a bit sore from Saturday, but my shoulder mobility was much better. If I could figure out the kip, I could get to round 2. My warmups did not inspire confidence as I did several "if I had larger boobs, that would have counted" reps. Those were just going to be energy wasters. I needed to make every attempt count. Rachel was doing her re-do first and she was very fluid on the bar. Knocked out her first round in 2 minutes, got to rest a bit, then knocked out 43 reps in round 2 to improve her score to 83.
Now it was my turn. I tried to think only positive thoughts. At least I was starting with overhead squats. Those are right in my wheelhouse. When Giulia said go, I went right into my 10 overheads and knocked them out quickly like I did on Friday. When I got over to the bar, I did a big kip and my chest hit the bar. Just keep doing that. Make every attempt count. Soon I was up to 4 or 5 without having missed. If I could maintain this, I had a very good shot at reaching round 2. I started blending in some no reps, but I got to 7. Then 8. And then my right arm quit. It kind of quit the other night too, but tonight it was much more noticeable. The tell-tale sign was that when I went to kip, the arm would feel like it was giving out and I clutched inward on the bar. I did this a few times Friday with successful results. Somehow I got rep #9 this way, but after that, it was a disaster. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't get my right arm to hold on to the bar where it was. The last 45-50 seconds ticked away with me needing one rep to get back to the overheads and I couldn't do it.
Body fell apart. At least in WOD #138, I was only in a noon class with 4 other people. I remember how angry I was that day. It was the same angry feeling I've had whenever I've gotten injured in my life. Why isn't my body working? And now I have to wait on it to heal? This is bullshit. I want to get working again. As I slowly wrapped up round 4 that day, I knew I had nothing left. There was no more work I could do. When it became evident that chest-to-bar #10 wasn't happening tonight, it was a very helpless feeling. The wonderful support system that I've grown to love at KOP was there urging me on to get that last rep and there was nothing that I could do to deliver it. I was angry. I was embarrassed. I wanted a beer. Or six.
Despite feeling old, broken down, and generally terrible overall, the low point of the night was still to come. I left the gym and went to Wegman's to get a six-pack and dinner. I wasn't sure what I wanted to eat, but after walking up to the pizza section, I decided that a few slices would be a nice main course for the pity party I had planned for when I got home. After procuring the pizza, I went over to pick out 6 beers. I love that Wegman's offers me the ability to have 6 beers that I haven't had before almost every time I walk in the place. I picked out 4 newbies, 1 beer that I remember liking previously, and a Sweet Baby Jesus in honor of Susan. There was no line at the checkout so I went up to the very nice older lady working the cash register.
"Now I have to see your ID", she said to me. I made my usual joke about being grateful for getting carded which is half-true. Wegman's is the only place that I can think of where I get carded. I mean, if the PetSmart cashiers are asking if I have grandchildren, then there's a good chance that the entire population has picked up on the fact that I'm not a sophomore in college trying to get some suds for the party back at the dorm. But I've been to Wegman's enough to know that they ask for ID every time. As we laughed together, she swiped my ID, which resulted in a sound similar to the one you get when you press the wrong color playing Simon. Oh, come on...
"Did you recently have a birthday?", the nice lady asked. I wasn't entirely sure why she was asking at that moment, but I knew by the sound the machine made that it wasn't because they were about to give me a complimentary birthday six-pack. She looked at the ID and then said "oh, this expired a couple of weeks ago". Still the only person in line, I just stood there silently. All I wanted to make this night a smidge better was some beer and now I was being denied that. "I'm really sorry", the cashier said to me. I was friendly in my response to her, but I'm certain my face had turned some shade of dark purple at this point. "If you go online and get a temporary one, you can print that out and use it", she offered.
The light bulb went on. I didn't bring my phone into the store with me, but I asked the cashier to hold my beer for me while I went to get it. When I got to the car, I looked up PENNDOT, filled out the driver's license renewal form, paid for it, and clicked on my temporary driver's license. Feeling triumphant for the only time on this god awful day, I marched back into the store. The lady laughed when she saw me and said "were you able to get it?" I showed her my phone. "That's all I need."
The spoils of a hard fought battle
At least I was able to win one battle with age tonight.
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