So, this morning I woke up with a thick smoker’s accent. Like, when I got to the box, Dave asked “whoa!! What happened to you?!?” No, I was not out all night chain-smoking an entire carton of cigarettes while begging the bingo guy to “call B18 already!” and stroking my lucky treasure trolls… Only excuse I can come up with is Saturday. My day of minimal nutrition and limited hydration, with a good hour or more standing in the pouring rain. I hate wet shoes. lol
This really emphasized for me how nutrition can be the building blocks of the whole pyramid. No food can be worse than bad food sometimes, but I’m not even sure where to begin when I need to eat something in a pinch. Going to skip the first night of hockey tonight. I’m just wanting to lay on the couch with a cup of tea and a good book right about now :p
Anyways, dragged my sketchy voice and tired butt to the box anyway for the 7:30 am WOD. It was a lifting day… nothing was going to keep this kid at home. 😀 My inner sadist. The funny part I realized once I got there that there really isn’t one part of this WOD that I could say “I like that. That will be fun.” It’s all friggin’ hard while doing it, but totally AWESOME once it’s all said and done 😀
Back Squats: 9-9-9-9 — #105 😀 (guess it’s time to revisit my 3 rep max: back squat 09/06/2013 #105)
Push Press: 9-9-9-9 — #75 (good gawd these were hard today… but what a difference when the dip-drive is a strong one. The bar seems to just float!)
Pull-ups: 9-9-9-9 — green band again, but first two sets were un-broken 😀
9 reps sucks. Today it seemed 5 or 7 was my number. The rep I could get to before wanting to run and hide. Or cry. But I didn’t do any of that, although I was so sloooow today that I didn’t get to the bonus rounds of reverse hypers and good mornings. I’ll make those up later this week.
On top of everything, I was so eager to go lift sh*t/fuzzy brained from this cold or whatever that I forgot my bag of work clothes hanging on my closet drawer at home. Post my slow-ass lifting sessions, I had no time to run home and worked the first few hours of my shift in yoga pants, a work shirt, little white gym socks and my Birkenstock clogs. I looked hot. And sooo professional as any manager should. (no) Whatever.
Hopefully my lungs figure things out by tomorrow. It’s one thing to lift with a cold in your chest, it’s another to attempt a metcon…