It’s all fun and games until they say 3,2,1, GO!
Ah, CrossFit, you are a mean bitch aren’t you. All week long I knew this workout was coming. Yet, somehow, when I woke up this morning I was still looking forward to it. Perhaps it is because I knew that, as with all chippers, it was going to wreck me. Perhaps it was because I really do love a good chipper. Or perhaps it was because this year, unlike last year, I was in a much better place mentally (and physically) to handle it; something about spending six hours out in the hills of Ohio.
What exactly is the 12 Days of Christmas? Ah, just like the song you start with 1, then 2-1, then 3-2-1, etc. Only unlike the traditional 12 days of Christmas where you wind up with an ass load of birds and people leaping and dancing in the CrossFit version you wind up with pain and death. Ok, that may be a bit of exaggeration, or is it?
I had made plans ahead of time to do it with AntiRunner. Hey, if I’m going to be suffering I want to be suffering with amazing friends. When I saw what the movements were I had a mixed bag of emotions. First, I was sad there were no double under, hey I’ve been practicing. Second, I was terrified of all of the overhead work. I already woke up extremely sore from yesterdays death by wall ball. I had already decided when I saw folks running in the 39 degree rain that this little asthmatic would not be running. Shocking I know. Something about not having an asthma attack was first and foremost on my mind. When I walked in and saw several of the coaches wrecked I knew this was going to be a doozy.
We went through a brief warm up with Mel and Alex where they ever so graciously told us that it was 2 lunges with each leg (wait what???). 45 minute max time cap. Oh boy. The first few rounds went fairly quickly then I found myself at five and things start getting spicy. By the time I hit rounds seven, eight, and nine I was absolutely convinced that the barbell is getting heavier and heavier every time. The thought of; are you sure that those coaches didn’t put extra weight on there when you were at the rig, ran through my mind.
Luckily, AntiRunner was facing me. We were suffering together. A random smattering of the thoughts that ran through my head;
-Good God this is a lot of overhead.
-Do I have to pick up the barbell again?
-Who the hell was the sick and twisted bastard that programmed wall balls AND thrusters?
-Fuck you, too, burpees.
To say that I was angry, pissed off, and motivated is an under statement. I was GOING to finish this. I was GOING to finish this under the time cap. I was not going to have an asthma attack.
Grind, grind, grind. Through each of the rounds. 12! Oh hello 12! I love and adore you 12. Okay, time for my big girl panties. I sat on the rower and forced my mind to find a happy memory to focus on. I blew through the 550m row. I made my way back down the ladder and was doing great until I hit 6. Crap, this bar was getting heavy. Ugh. OK. Finish this.
As I put the barbell down after the last deadlift I laid out on the floor. My ass hurt. My shruggers hurt. Lifting my arms? Yeah, not going to happen. But I finished! Take that you mean CrossFit bitch. I’m going to go die now. Merry Goddamn Christmas to you too CrossFit.