Before I describe the disaster that took place today, I’d like to first discuss my progress with yoga. I’ve begun to once again regularly attend a power yoga session at least once and sometimes twice a week. I last attended this past Tuesday.
1. I am the most “bendy” (my yoga instructor, Heather’s, term) that I’ve ever been. Not only can I bend and place the palms of my hands under my feet, I can also bring my chest to my quads.
2. For the very first time ever I was able to place my forehead on the ground while in pigeon pose.
3. For the very first time ever I was able to stack my legs.
4. I can now easily transition from crow pose to plank position.
I think I may be just a wee bit egocentric. Every time Heather says “pause here” I hear “Paul’s here.”
As you may have gathered, I rested yesterday. I’m always tight after a day of rest, so I arrived at 5:45 this morning to allow time to stretch and roll – and to tape my left ankle.
Josh led today’s session, and he began with 30-second warm up drills. Thanks for including burpees, Josh! You’re a gentleman and a scholar.
Josh next demonstrated a couple of different ways to climb a rope. He’s tall and he has good technique, so he made it look far easier than it is. I gave it a try, and climbed to the orange mark on the rope – and what I thought was the 20’ mark. I descended and Josh said, “That’s the 15’ mark. You’ll need to climb to the ceiling for 20’.” I replied, “Then I think I’m scaling to 15’.” I have no fear of heights. Hell, I don’t even have a fear of falling. I just knew that 20’ was going to be a long distance to climb.
Josh suggested that we jump as high as we could, grab the rope, and position our feet. Uhm, yeah, so I can like jump maybe a foot and a half. Great! That means I only have to climb 18.5’!
To the best of my recollection, I’ve only climbed a rope as part of a metcon on 2 occasions, once at CF908 and once at CFKoP. I didn’t particularly enjoy doing so on either occasion. I end up battered, bruised, and humiliated. Today was no exception!
30 clean & jerks (155/105)
20’ rope climb ascent after 5 C&Js
Thus, 6 rounds of 5 C&Js and a rope climb. I warmed up C&Js and settled on 115#; about 80% of my bodyweight, 75% of 1RM power clean, and 70% of 1RM C&J. Heavy enough for you, bitches?
The first round of C&Js went reasonably well, and I focused on dropping under the bar, pushing my hips back, dipping under the bar for the jerk, and locking my elbows at the top of the jerk. The first rope climb, well, was a challenge. I attempted to stand up straight (while still dressed fabulously), but my Inov8s kept slipping. I quickly determined that I might actually be losing ground if I stood up, so I had to use my arm – and particularly my forearms – much more than I wanted to, and had to make far too many pulls to make it to the top.
Yes, to the top. Once I made it to the 15’ mark I challenged myself to climb to the 20’ mark. I thought, “Hell, I can do this at least once.” I climbed 20’ for remaining rounds.
The second round of C&Js and rope climb went okay. Just okay. Nothing more, nothing less. C&Js were starting to feel pretty damn heavy.
As Josh was watching (of course), I missed the 3rd clean during the 3rd round. Josh said, “You’re a f@cking loser, Paul! I can’t believe we’re letting you join the box! You shouldn’t be allowed coach this sh!t. Grow a pair!” Okay, that’s what I heard. What Josh actually said was “Drop under the bar.”
The 3rd rope climb was painful in many, many ways. Even though I had taped my ankle, I could tell that the rope was burning my flesh. With Josh encouraging me to stand up, I knew it was to my detriment to do so. After sliding down the rope, I took a moment to regroup. I decided to call it a day. I don’t mind an occasional DNF.
I don’t know what compelled me to do so, but I stepped up to the bar. I then became obsessed with the ring finger on my left hand, as it had gone cold and numb. I muddled through another 5 C&Js and yet another rope climb.
Four rounds done, two loooooooong rounds to go.
The 5th round was grueling. I missed the 25th rep, i.e., the last rep of this round, in that I didn’t come anywhere close to locking the bar overhead. Without resting nearly long enough, I attempted the C&J again, and while I came closer to locking it out overhead I still wasn’t able to do so. Josh said, “The jerk isn’t your friend.” Does this mean that you’re not my friend, Josh? You know, because you’re a jerk? Hugs! I was resting, bent over with hands on my quads. I had barely enough energy to raise my right arm and extend my middle finger. We both chuckled. I finally was able to complete the C&J.
I climbed that damn rope a 5th time.
Five more C&Js, each done one at a time with a rest between reps. I was dreading climbing that damn rope.
I was oblivious to ever other person, but evidently Eric and I were neck and neck. Josh said, “It’s a race, Paul!” I replied, “He’s got this one. I’m not even going to try.” And I didn’t. I struggled to the top, estimating that it took me 83 pulls (that might be a slight exaggeration) to reach the 20’ mark. My time was 14:25, and I was the last of the 6amers to finish.
I dropped to my hands and knees, and quickly realized that my forearms were so tired that I couldn’t even remain in tabletop position. I moved to child’s pose. Even that hurt, so I rolled onto my back. “Josh,” I said, “I suck at rope climbs. My forearms are weak. I either need to climb the rope or masturbate much more frequently.”
Josh led the group through some shoulder stretches, but I was too spent to join them. My forearms were swollen, and my hands hurt. I couldn’t even remove the clips from the bar, and had to ask for assistance.
I like workouts that kick my ass. This. Kicked. My. Ass.