Thoughts on 13.1

photo (2)Week one of the 2013  CrossFit Games is officially on the books.   I survived.  I learned a few things.   And most importantly to me, I did it.  Last year, there was no way in hell I would have signed up because I was barely brave enough to walk in the box’s door most days and would have laughed at even the suggestion of participating in the games. The year before that, I was morbidly obese lying in the hospital the day after surgery during the 2011 open.  I’ll be dropped out of the games, either this week or the next with one movement or another that I physically can’t do yet.  And I don’t care –  I am competing against myself from the past and I’ve already won.  I finished the beginner’s classes the end of February last year, so this marks a little over a year of hard work and overcoming things I never thought I could.   

This is the open workout:

17 minute AMRAP of:
40 Burpees
30 Snatch, 75 / 45 lbs
30 Burpees
30 Snatch, 135 / 75 lbs
20 Burpees
30 Snatch, 165 / 100 lbs
10 burpees
Max rep Snatch, 210 / 120 lbs

My goal going in was to get through the awful burpees without having an asthma attack and get through 10 of the 75 pound snatches.  I can do the 75 pound snatches (max muscle snatch is 90 pounds), but to get to that point there was a 70 (!!!) burpee “buy-in”.  70 (!!!) burpees – oh how I loathe you.   I’ve been on a bit of a tear lately – traveling too much, eating poorly, being sick for a month, and generally not taking care of myself and I consequently gained back 24 pounds.   Each one of those burpees was going to suck even more with those 24 pounds back on me.   I know that I can easily gas myself out doing burpees. My strategy was just to keep moving slowly and steadily and never let my breathing get too out of control.  I did my best.  Maybe I could have done better if I re-did it and pushed it a little more, but I beat my original goal by 8 reps.  I’m happy with my 118 reps and don’t want to see 70 (!!!) burpees again for a good long while.

My sister rocking it

Watching others at the box cheering and doing work and pushing themselves was awesome.  Feeling the excitement of the open in myself and others was a kick.   Talking to my sister about how she did and comparing notes was fun.   Instead of feeling terribly embarrassed doing the WOD, I understood and felt the support from everyone in the room.  It was a fantastic experience from start to finish.   13.2, come at me!


To quote a fellow blogger at –

All are welcome in this house that strength built.

I mean the strength that moves the barbell and the strength that tries to move the bar and the strength that gets you to go near the bar in the first place when you are bowel-loosening scairt and intimidated as shit in that small grimy weight room full of grunting furry manpeople who smell like cheese and wet dog and old sweaty leather.

I mean the strength of putting one foot in front of the other. Or simply standing still when the winds of life are shoving you backwards like a schoolyard bully.

I mean the strength that sometimes looks like madness. The strength that sometimes looks like baby-weakness. The strength that is a tiny nugget of steel inside you. The strength that is compassion big enough to cuddle the world… even if you don’t yet know it is there, and certainly cannot yet turn it on yourself. The strength that 2 million years of evolution have given you, in your standard-issue package of human DNA.

I mean the strength of getting up off the floor and trying again. Wherever you are in your journey of strength, you are welcome here. This place is for you.



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