One week it was my shoulders. One week it was my quads. One week, my abs. Like, every.single.one.of.them - the whole case load of abs I apparently was lugging around. Then some random things started to hurt that I'm sure are muscles but I couldn't name them if I tried.
Big J kept asking me, why do you keep going if it hurts so bad? And the only answer I could give him was, um, I think its supposed to hurt?
Somewhere around October, I stopped being sore after every workout, thank you, Jesus. Then a few weeks later, I did a pull up. One, honest to goodness, pull myself all the way up, chin over the bar kind of pull up.
Which is kind of amazing considering that the first time Derek asked me to do one, I hung from the bar like a slab of meat and asked him: Now which muscles am I supposed to be using exactly?
Derek? He's my trainer. Uh, huh. Yep. Be jealous.
In December, I started having to apologize to the poor Vietnamese woman who gives me a manicure. Where you get all dees callous on your hand? Dis bad. Very bad. You want me use callous remova? You see her hands? She lift lotsa stuff.
Somewhere around January, I started to get comments about my guns. In buff body speak, your guns are your arms. Whoa, Momo, you're getting some guns on you. Is that CrossFit? Then I did three pull ups. And then five. And I picked up some new lingo like box, and clean and push press and jerk which I randomly started to insert into conversations simply because I liked the way they sounded.
Little J, please clean up that mess you left on my counter, oh, btdubs, today at 480, we did thrusters and I had to squat clean that bar like nine whole times!
Then, sometime in February, I started to hear rumblings about this thing called the Open. I knew that the Open led to the CrossFit Games, but to be honest, I wasn't sure how all that really worked. Plus, I most definitely thought the Open was for, well, real CrossFitters. Pro CrossFitters. Definitely not CrossFitters like... me. Come on, you know what I mean. Old.
Don't get me wrong, I don't really think 43 is all that old these days, however, I do currently hold the distinction of being the OLDEST woman at my gym. What the flip?
Anyway, the Open. Apparently, in order to build excitement for the CrossFit Games in July, the Open was created for everyone and the entire CrossFit community, affiliated or not, is welcome to participate. Each week for five weeks on Wednesday, a WOD (work out of the day) would be posted on the CrossFit Games website. And each week, for five weeks, anyone who wanted to participate had five days to complete the workout Rx (as prescribed) in front of a judge, and post their score online.
Open to anyone, hm? Well, you know me, I'm always up for a good challenge and I figured, how hard could it be, right? If it is open to everyone? I mean, I am an IRONMAN after all.
Little did I know.
WOD 12.1 was posted on Wednesday night. The workout was simply 7 minutes of as many burpees as you could do. I have to admit when I saw this workout, I thought to myself, Burpees! I totally got this.
Back in January, Derek had programmed a WOD for my birthday which consisted of 69 burpees and although everyone in the place complained six ways from Sunday about that, I heart burpees. I could do them all day long. I even did ten extra with a new girl in my class because I felt bad that she had to do 69 her first week in class.
Thursday afternoon, I showed up at 480 to do the workout. Thursday is not my regular CrossFit day, but being the prima donna that I am, Derek said yes when I asked if I could come and do it on my own in the afternoon. He's getting used to me now I think.
What is the purpose of this workout, exactly? Is this a 95% kinda thing or am I supposed to be pacing myself? Should I be going up in weight? Where am I supposed to be feeling this again?
5, 4, 3, 2, 1 - and I am off, doing my burpees. Derek counting each one out. He'd told me to just pace myself and at about a minute left to try to pick it up a bit. You've got ninety seconds to go, Momo. I try to pick up the pace just a bit but my lungs are screaming and my arms are like spaghetti and for some unexplainable reason I appear to be bleeding from both knees. Thirty seconds, Momo. 88, 89, 90, 91, 92...
OH.MY.GOSH that was the longest 7 minutes of my life. What have I gotten myself into? Dang, that was pretty good, wasn't it? 92! Wow, I could like go to the games or something couldn't I? What's the age for the Master's Division??
WOD 12.2 was posted the following Wednesday night, and here's where things started to go a little south. 10 minutes of snatch: 30 reps at 45 pounds, 30 reps at 75 pounds, 30 reps at 100 pounds and then as many as you can get at 125 pounds.
I was certain my max snatch was 75 pounds, so I figured I could get through the first 30 no problem and then I would take my time with the 75 pounds - maybe get ten or so based on how much time I had remaining.
I show up on Thursday afternoon, warm up a bit and then get my weights all set to go.
The clock counts down and I start - nice and easy, I've got the bar loaded with 45 pounds and I crank out the first thirty snatches no problem. Down, snatch. Down, snatch. Two minutes and thirty seconds in, I am finished. I add the additional plates to take me to 75, approach the bar, set up and... nothing. Not only could I not snatch the bar, I could not get the darned thing past midway.
I look at Derek. I know I can do 75 at least once. What am I doing wrong? What the heck?
You're over thinking it, Momo. Don't take so long to set up. Just approach the bar and pull!
For seven very, very, VERY long minutes, I try to do just that. I didn't even get close. I could not, for the life of me, no matter how much I tried not to over think it, get that flipping bar up and over my head.
After the workout was done, I just happened to glance at the whiteboard in the corner where we have listed all our CrossFit max totals and lo and behold, right under my name and snatch was... 55.
Bwahahah. My max snatch was 55 pounds and there I was, trying everything I could to jump straight from 45 to 75. How in the world could I forget that my max was 55 not 75?
Did I mention that I am the oldest woman in my gym?
WOD 12.3 introduced me to eighteen minutes of box jumps, push press at 75 pounds and toes to bar. Let's just call a spade a spade, shall we. It was ugly.
WOD 12.4 consisted of twelve minutes of 150 wall balls at a 9 foot target, 90 double unders and muscle ups. Considering I have yet to master the double under and have yet to even attempt a muscle up, its a really good thing I could only muster up 120 wall balls.
Although, that being said, just in case the CrossFit Games people are reading, it seems pretty unfair that people like my girl, Tonia, who is easily a foot taller than me, had to reach the same nine foot target. I mean, c'mon, have you seen the legs on that girl? Doesn't being short (and old) deserve some sort of advantage? Just saying...
And finally, WOD 12.5, otherwise known as death by chest to bar, where I unbelievably surpassed my goal of ZERO by completing NINE whole chest to bar pull ups. The strict way. Luckily for me, I have an easy inch or two on some of the, um, flatter chested ladies. ;)
When it was all said and done and my scores had been posted, I think I ended up somewhere in the neighborhood of 898th place. No, that's not a typo. EIGHT HUNDRED AND NINETY EIGHTH. And what was it I said above, the top sixty to go to Regionals?
You get the picture, I assume?
I have to be honest, the entire thing made me sick to my stomach and yet, somehow, exhilarated at the very same time. I stressed about each workout, kind of like I would have stressed about a marathon, or Ironman, or in my case just about everything. I tried to come up with a strategy for attacking each workout, how to pace myself, when to push, what to wear. And believe it or not, I even dreamt about a few of them after they were announced.
Remind me to tell you about the snatch one sometime.
All in all, the entire experience was an incredible one for me. I learned a lot about my body the past five weeks - about its capabilities, but also about its limitations. I have tried things I might never have tried. I competed against women in the most amazing shape I have ever seen. I watched my CrossFit family reach goals that inspired and encouraged me.
And although I am not 22 any longer, I have realized that I am in pretty damn good shape for a 43 year old mom of two doing CrossFit for fun. And... I just so happen to have some skills that come in handy now and then. Because while you might never see me actually competing at Regionals, or even the CrossFit Games, you very well could catch me there.
I'll be the one with the byline.
