Completely Thrustrated

Workout date: 7/2/15

JINX!!!!  Jinx, Jinx, Jinx, Jinx, Jinx!

People often tell me that I am too hard on myself.  The truth is that I would love to be a confident guy.  But life experience has taught me that this is not meant to be for me.  I'll often get to the verge of becoming confident about something and that is when God, karma, fate, or whatever other higher power you believe in, steps in and sets me straight.  I didn't even want to write my last post because I knew what was coming on Thursday.  The best you can do is take a deep breath, clear your mind, and tell yourself "today is going to be different".

Thursday was not different.  After a string of pretty solid workouts, I was getting ready to do one that I should have excelled at.  The workout was dubbed "Thruster Thursday" and consisted solely of thrusters, one of my favorite movements.  Unless Aimee is planning "Overhead October" later in the year, this was going to be the most Dave-friendly programming there could be.  Here is how the workout was setup:

Every minute on the minute for 5 minutes, do 5 thrusters at 75/45.
At the end of every 5 minutes, add 20 pounds to the bar and continue (clock is continuously running).

Thrusters at 75 and 95 pounds should be no problem.  At 115 they would likely get tough.  And at 135 I would need to give it everything I had.  But still, getting to minute 21 seemed like an achievable goal, especially when I saw earlier scores that were 20 rounds or higher.  Perhaps I should be thinking 22-23 minutes.  I was giving that even more credence when I got to the gym for 6:30 class and saw Keith finishing off his workout in minute 27.  Let's get confident and make it to the 22nd minute!

I did not get to the 22nd minute.  Not even close.  I did keep my temper tantrum to less than 60 seconds though, which is progress on some front I suppose.  We got started with the first round of five minutes and I used 75 pounds.  It was light as expected and I finished my set of 5 thrusters in about 14 seconds, almost precisely every time.  But at the end of the fifth set, the first red flag appeared.  We needed to put 20 more pounds on the bar.  Despite moving fairly rapidly, it took 25-30 seconds to make this change.  It took me that long while still relatively fresh and with 45 seconds to spare.  How was this going to play out later on when I was huffing and puffing with maybe 30-35 seconds to spare?  Magic 8-Ball said: "Not good.  Not good at all."

Despite being heavier, the thrusters during the 95 pound round took about 15 seconds for each set as well.  It wasn't like the weight was a struggle, so as long as you were moving, 5 reps was going to take 15, maybe 20 seconds.  The big problem at this point was the heat.  I had tried to control my breathing during the first 5 sets, but I was sweating a lot.  There was one fan on and it was blowing on the strength class, but they were currently sitting in chairs.  During one of the breaks in between the 95 pound sets, I asked Leslie if she could turn it towards me.  Ahhh...that was helping a little, but with the fan far away from me, it did not provide as much relief as it could have.  Not only was the heat beginning to take a toll on me, but so was hearing Giulz tell me to keep my elbows up during the thrusters.  Especially since I was actively focused on keeping them up without the admonishment.

10 rounds in and I began to get worried.  I had thrown on another 20 pounds, but I was starting to gasp for breath during the thrusters.  I had not only sweat through my shirt, I had also sweat through my shorts as well.  There seemed to be no relief.  I looked over at the fan and it was no longer pointing at me.  I had to break up at least 1 set of the 115 pound thrusters, although it may have been 2 sets.  The end was near.

After 15 rounds, I was at the point where I couldn't breathe, yet I had to make a decision whether it was beneficial to breathe at all, as all I was bringing into my body was muggy hot air.  I imagine it's the same type of dilemma one experiences if they're stranded on an island.  Dying for thirst, but that salt water is gonna do more harm than good.  That's how it was starting to feel in the gym.  As I finished loading the bar to 135 pounds, round 16 began.  I managed to get 2 reps, but they were awful.  Giulz was yelling for me to get my elbows up.  I dropped the bar.  I lowered into my squat and tried to breath in some air to recover.  Three reps in the next 30 seconds was doable.  I stood back up, grabbed the bar, and barely completed my third thruster.  And I was done.

I dropped the bar and stormed down to the other end of the gym even though there was time remaining.  There was nothing to be gained from continuing.  The whole experience was extremely frustrating and I had no interest in squeaking out round 16 just to attempt to squeak through round 17.  I took about 45 seconds down at the other end of the gym away from the rest of the class to get my head right before returning to cheer on those who were still going.  Rachel made it to round 21.  And there was no stopping Christine.  She made it all the way through round 25 before deciding she wasn't interested in putting more weight on the bar.  Very impressive stuff.

I hung out for a bit before heading home.  I got to talk with Mr. Intensity, who is back doing WODs again.  He helped me put things back into perspective, at least a little bit.  I wasn't going to go home hanging my head.  And I certainly wasn't going to show up tomorrow looking that way.  But there is never going to be a confident version of me walking through that door, nor will he appear in this blog.  That's not meant to be a downer, it's simply a fact of life.  It doesn't mean I won't be happy at the gym or elsewhere.  I love being at the gym.  If anything, it's an explanation of my mindset.  It might come across as being too hard on myself, but really, it's just softening the inevitable blow.

Friday blog: Partner WOD.  Poor Rachel has to carry my big ass and a 70 pound dumbbell!