With the hustle and bustle of life smothering my face off as of late, blogging has been at the bottom of my "to-do" list. Monday's 1pm CFS WOD was a brutal 5 round couplet of 100 ft Overhead walking lunges (95lb) and 15 Ring Dips. My time was 14:53 and I haven't walked straight since- the ole' B-double-Oh-Tee-Why is SORE. Tuesday I must have done something forgettable cuz I've now forgotten what I did...but I know without a doubt I did do something. I think. It was a strength WOD of some sort I believe. Yesterday (Wed) was 3 rounds of max reps HSPU, max reps chest to bar pull ups, and max reps backsquat @ 165lb- 40 minute time limit. Anytime you have a max effort WOD, you go into it knowing it's gonna pretty much be like having your brain and your body knifefight each other to the death. So needless to say, the workout was awful- and the scary part: It would have been even more awful if I'd have allowed myself to fly into the doomed "6th gear dangerzone". If you're a crossfitter you know exactly what I'm talkin' bout'. It's the deepest realm of unfathomable SUCK. Unfortunately (and fortunately), for me I went there on Monday so yesterday my transmission was still BROKEN-OFF sumthin' fierce. As my mind screamed, "Mayday, Mayday!" and ordered my body to "Commense Operation: Crush This WOD!", my body replied in a calm, yet resolute tone, "Negative, Ghostrider, the pattern is full." C'est la Vie...I live to fight another day. I got 208 reps on the workout. Then Maverick put a quarter in the jukebox, played "You've lost that lovin' feeling", kissed Charlie and they both drove off into the sunset on his motercycle.
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