People are going to die in SC, and the governor and his puppet master will be to blame. I’m relieved that I don’t still own a CrossFit, because I don’t know when or if I’d feel comfortable opening it for business. These are trying times…
Sunday, April 19
10-9-8…3-2-1 bench press, beginning @ 95# and increasing 10# each round
200-180-160…60-40-20m shuttle sprints
This was tough, as BP always if for me. Dammit.
Every 15 seconds for 25 rounds
Alternating leg jumping lunge, lunge each leg, air squat + jumping air squat
Each round took about 10 seconds.
Jeff and I made a trip to Lowe’s and discovered that it was a shit show. Many people were NOT practicing social distancing, and Jeff and I were just a few who were wearing face masks. Uhm, most employees were not. WTF?
We planted flowers in all but the BA planter (that doesn’t yet have dirt) as well as trees that will grow tall to block out asshole neighbors. Hopefully.
Monday, April 20
Yup, 4-20. I had a call with a potential client at 11:30, ate a salad with grilled chicken, and then workout out. I worked out on a full stomach, one of many of my awesome talents.
AFAP and AFRAP (As Few Rounds As Possible)
101 strict and unbroken pull-ups
Run 200m after each round
I began with 10 pull-ups and did many rounds of 7 and then 6. I ended with 5 and only did 2 rounds of just 4. I ran 2 miles, i.e., 16 rounds, in just a little over 30 minutes.
No resting at full extension for pull-ups, people. Unbroken means consistent and unbroken.
I made a BIG pot of chicken & dumplings, and shared some with neighbor Erin and friend Lynn. I feel compelled to look out for people who are living alone.
Oh, and I’m still enjoying a piece of German chocolate cake for dessert each and every day until it’s finished. Another one of my awesome talents is self control. My next cake is going to be a licorice and chocolate bundt cake. You read that correctly.
Whenever I begin a task, for example cleaning out a closet, mulching the yard, writing a blog, I am compelled to work until I complete the task. This likely has something to do with my father, and the other day I discussed this with my mother.
I truly loved my father, but the man never completed a task he began. For example, he’d begin to paint the house and leave a portion unpainted. He’d then begin to put siding on the house and, you guessed it, leave a portion without siding. My father had many unfinished projects, and for the life of me I’ll never understand why.
I get a tremendous feeling of satisfaction when I complete a task, particularly a challenging or arduous task, like mulching the yard or building three planters. I also felt a sense of accomplishment when I finished a marathon. Uhm, that’s probably to be expected.
One of my fondest memories took place at the San Francisco Marathon, which coincidentally was one of my least favorite marathons. I was running a relatively strong race, ensuring I was paying attention to heart rate, breathing, and nutrition. At about mile 21 or 22, I saw a young man, likely in his late teens or early twenties, struggling. He was leaning forward, looking at the ground (two things NOT to do when running), and then began to stop and walk 10 or so meters at a time. When I caught up to him I said, “We just have a few miles. Let’s run together. I’ll lead the way, and the only thing you need to do is ride my shoulder. Don’t think about anything else, just ride my shoulder to the finish.” “I’ll try,” he replied.
And we began to run together. If he began to slow down and lose contact I wouldn’t look back but would instead shout words of encouragement. “Another mile down, that’s one less mile to the finish.” And he’d pick up the pace and ride my shoulder. “Pain is temporary. In just a little while you’re going to run through the finish line and that pain will subside. Keep riding my shoulder.” And that’s what he did. Notice I didn’t say “
good job” or “you got this.”
Once we got to the 26-mile mark I looked at him and said, “I’m going to sprint to the finish. Give it all you have.” I sprinted to the finish and dropped him as I did so. I ran across the finish line and began to look for Jeff.
I happened to glance back at the finish line (or perhaps sensed that I should) and the young man recognized me — and then ran toward me with outstretched and open arms and then hugged me very tightly. He said, “I can’t thank you enough. I was ready to quit and call it a DNF when you began to talk with me. Not only did you ensure that I finished the race, but I also got a PR!” It was perhaps the most genuine thank you I’ve ever received.
Jeff, of course, wanted to know why I was hugging a sweaty and scantily clad young man.