The Grass is Greenest Where it is Watered.

“Your visions will become clear only when you can look into your own heart. Who looks outside, dreams; who looks inside, awakes.” ― C.G. Jung

Warm-Up:

Snatch Skill Transfer

WOD:

I. Snatch – 5 x 2 – Rest As Needed Between Sets

Completed: focusing mostly on form @ 55lbs.

II. Front Squat 3 x 3 @ 80% 1RM – Rest 2 Minutes Between Sets

Completed: again, focusing on form, working up in weight, 55lbs., 75lbs., 95lbs.

Thanks to Nicole and Richard for being great partners today.  For sharing stories between reps of personal successes, failures, and confusion as to why some people say the darndest things out loud. Rich summed it up pretty well, ‘Some folks just lack a filter.’ Indeed.

III. Chin Ups (Chin Over Vertical Plane) 4 x 15 – Rest 1 Minute Between Sets

Completed: Ring Dips with wrists towards the ceiling, max effort.

Then onto Strongman. A group of us (StrongWoMen, mostly) have signed up for our first Strongman Competition in Perth.  Competitions make me want to vomit urine from fright. Which is all the more reason to do them. This will be my first. Below is the level at which we will be competing:

   Super Yoke Tire Flip Log Press Truck Pull Deadlift Farmers Hold
Women 140+ 310lbs 250lbs Max Weight Ford Ranger 175lbs 110lbs (per handle)

I’ve performed each of these movements at least once. So I got that going for me. Except one, the Truck Pull. But its only a Ford Ranger, so, you know.

The Super Yoke at 310lbs. seems the most intimidating item on the list. We practiced tonight. The Yoke itself weighs 150lbs. We worked our way up from there in 70 lbs. increments; 150 lbs., then 220 lbs., then 290 lbs., then finally 310 lbs. Thank goodness there are no Math WoD’s at ACF, and the fact that Margarite has the ability to calculate the sum total weight of bumpers and steel on the spot. My skill in this department is sorely lacking and I’m okay with that for now.

I’m in a cleansing mood. Been cleansing my diet, 14 days into the Whole30 and going strong. Cleansing my home too, of all clutter. Never was a clutter person to begin with, but now I’m even digging into the little momentos and tokens from the past that have been holed up in the back corners of my closet and shelves. Just feel like getting rid of all of it. Yes, there’s memories there, some cherished, some not so much. Some more like reminders, of a time that indeed helped shape where I am now, but do not write the story of who I am now, or a minute from now, or tomorrow. That story is for me to tell from where I’m standing now. The urge to purge comes from a general feeling of lightness. My mind is light, and clear, and focused. I want my surroundings to be even more so too.

I think sometimes I had the tendency to get weighed down by having too many priorities, too many focus points, too many places I wanted to be. More from a scattered ‘The Grass is Always Greener’ approach, then one overtly movtivated. You can’t split yourself into eight, and take off in hot pursuit into eight different directions with the same fierceness and intensity of applying that force to one united direction. The hot pursuit gets diluted into a luke warm simmer.

Paralyzed by too much opportunity.

Call it mid-life, call it finally settling into what it is that I really want. Call it whatever the F* you want. But, I do know that I like it. And it is all too welcomed. There is a stripping away of non-priorities, and the priorities that remain are few, precise, and crystal clear.

FB. The Porsche of my mid-life crisis.

What do kegs, Facebook, and a bruised nose all have in common? No. No. Not passing out after a full evening of boozing and trolling FB.

ACF Strongman classes!

After last night’s WOD, while being personally hazed into completing 130 Wall Balls at 14lbs. (afterwhich I was seeing stars and heard a voice telling me to head towards the light) the next good idea presented itself; to stay an extra hour and take the Strongman class. The class was outside, it was warm, the sun was out. After all, who doesn’t need to brush up on their keg lifts?

Granted, I worked with the beginner keg. 30lbs. This was good enough for me. Just getting it up to the press position is awkward, not to mention, awkward. Who lifts a keg up into their lap, and then onto their shoulder, then chest, then up over head. Well, CF’ers do. Apparently.

Clearly I’m out of practice as I forgot I was lifting a KEG, and let it come down too quickly onto my nose. To which my WOD partners asked, ‘What’s going on over there Jan Brady? Are you okay?’

I saw a couple more stars, this time B-List only and shook it off. No black and blues this morning, just sore.

The thing is, Strongman is addicting. You stand around as a group and watch the coaches as they demonstrate the moves and think, am I really about to do that? That stone looks so big, that keg looks so heavy. The whole process is almost surreal, until you bend down and pick up the object in front of you. And start grappling with it, trying to actually pick it up, maneuver it, fix your grip and somehow position it on your body so you can actually carry it. Move it. Like you’re out in the woods trying to chop down trees and move boulders in an effort to build your cabin before the first snow comes. Like I said, surreal. And tres addicting.

The FB piece comes into play usually during the 24 hours after performing a Jan Brady. If you know me, you know I do not like FB. At all. They own every last piece of information you put up there. All the photos and text, and fleeting thoughts, and movements and clicks. They could take that family reunion photo of you and your 90 year old Pop-Pop and sell it to Coke-a-cola and the next thing you know; you and your Pop-Pop are waving back at you from the side of a bus driving by during your vacation to Hong Kong. And there’s not a damn thing you can do about it. FB owns you. And all your personal crap you upload and post into the FB vortex on a minute by minute basis. Just sayin’.

Which is why the fact that I’m on there so much recently can only now, after much thought, be attributed to some sort of mid-life crisis. I just don’t give a sh*t. At least not as much as I did before. At least not about the same stuff as before. My list of things I do actually care about is dwindling, being honed down to a very short select, refined grouping. And FB just didn’t make the cut. I just don’t care about FB like I did. More specifically, I don’t care about not caring about FB like I once used to. Rather, I’m having too much fun connecting with my fellow CF’ers about our shared insanity to care much about the venue. It’s as if I’m having a mid-life crisis, and Facebook is my Porsche. Better yet, FB is my seedy affair. I’m okay with that. Let’s see how long it lasts.

On to more positive things. Like pressing kegs over head and strategizing for the next workout whereby the stars come out in the triple wide.