Am I bitter, or just salty?

It’s fucking 4am, and I haven’t written in this thing in forever (apparently my perception of forever is 3 weeks, good thing I have excellent short term memory). I guess I’m started to get a little absent minded with trying to keep up with this thing, or I just don’t have any material to write about. Either/or, I’ll make an attempt at an update. First things first. I feel great. I look great. I eat like shit (lately), but we are gonna change that up. The diet thing really took a toll on me the other day, and my guts were not happy about all the sugary shit I ingested. Nothing like feeling a steamy wet turd knocking on the back door when you’re at the absolute bottom of a squat. Anyhow, I’m sure all 3 of you reading this are stoked to think about dookie now. Moving on. Significant grocery shopping has been accomplished. Hopefully I can maintain a level head and not eat like the fat fuck I once was.

Squatting rules. We squat a fuck ton now. Not only is it included in the workout we do, but the strength and conditioning portion of our day is heavy squats, like every 3 days. My legs feel strong as fuck, and I want to kick something to prove it, but I need to find some poor soul who is dumb enough to go kick-for-kick with me like the good old days. It would really be interesting to see where my Muay Thai and BJJ stand now after training working out as hard as I have been for the last year. Strength has got to account for something right? Maybe I’ll get some hair up my ass to try and bump another W in the column somewhere down the line. I do miss it sometimes, and wish I could incorporate it into my life again. Soon enough hopefully.

My new role at the gym has pretty much been the pace-setter. Most of the strength stuff is mine to dominate. If you wanna beat my weight/times, you’re gonna have to work for it. Lindsey says I need to scale up, and do the same workouts with more weight/reps/time, but right now, I kinda want to bask in the glory of being the dude with the killer numbers on the board. Kind of narcissistic, but I haven’t felt this good about myself in a long time. And it feels amazing to be at the top that often. Now if only it mattered.

I am going to compete this year. Need to shake the moths off, and stare at every motherfucker like hes trying to take my last piece of bread. The difference is I can’t hit people in this sport workout group. So I’ll take it out on the weight. Weights don’t hit back, and that’s kind of a nice change.

If I can’t compete against everyone else, I’ll just compete against myself…

I think I’m going to change things up with this blog a bit. I might post about a particular workout if there is something that really made me think during the WOD, but I think I want to step away from the daily updates on basic WODs, and get more into the philosophy of why I am doing this type of training. There will be some nice story telling, a few laughs, a fuckload of cursing, and of course, plenty of perverted jokes to keep all 6 of you reading this on a constant basis. Hopefully it works.

Recently I have been finding myself wanting more from some of the recent WODs. Now, when I say more, I don’t mean “Throw some extra fucking burpees in there, because I just can’t get enough of those Drill Sergent!” I’m talking I want more results from the amount of work I am putting into these things. I want to see, feel, hear, smell, taste, and buttfuck results. I want PR days. EVERY. FUCKING. DAY. But we all know that can’t happen, as much as we would like it to. So instead, I have started mixing in a little light and fluffy auxiliary work alongside and after the workouts. Initially it was just snatch practice to help my issues with snatching and overhead work. All that helped me with achieving a 40lb PR in just a matter of weeks. While it’s certainly not the best snatch in the world (I keep it clean tho’), it has improved dramatically, and the lift is starting to make sense the more I practice it. Funny how that works, right? Now I have really started to add things that are accentuating my core strength and stability. I have become particularly fond of the devil machine, or GHD for short, and how much I feel (both physically and emotionally, because I’m pretty sure I’m falling in love with it) from using it everyday. I tried using the hyper, but that thing just tried to crush my testicles, so I’ll hold off on that right now. Toes-to-bar, pullups, chest-to-bar, and double unders find themselves in the mix quite often as well. I really noticed the benefit of the C2B’s in a previous days workout this week, when I was able to do all of my chest to bars unbroken and at a speedy rhythm. Sometimes things just click (sometimes those things are your shoulders, and you’ll need an MRI), and start to make sense, and suddenly you’ve got a new complex understanding of the movement you’re doing. Sometime you have bad days, and shit just hits the fan all day long, and you look like a nutty turd wiping yourself across the platforms. It happens.

I have actually been pretty busy both working out, and hanging out (which is more important). My buddy Buck Feero came in from Reno, NV, and he trains in CrossFit, Elite Fitness, hardcore working out as well, and we had been bangin out WODs (no homo) like it ain’t no thing. Buck noticed that in the span of a week and a half the programming he received here at Outlaw Crossfit is leagues ahead of where his training is back home. He has really come to appreciate the level of coaching and programming Rudy and the rest of the coaches and athletes good-worker-outers emit to help the likes of him and myself. Like I’ve stated before, I really don’t think there are many places that include the amount of strength work we do. Buck has made leaps and bounds in weightlifting in 10 days that he hadn’t had the opportunity to do in 4 months.

Now, onto the title of this whole charade. Main point, “Competition.” I love competing. Doesn’t matter what it is. Working out, Jiu-jitsu, kickboxing, shuffleboard, thumb wrestling, whatever. Fucking Chutes and Ladders if I have to. Point is, I like the idea of trying to best someone. More importantly, I LIKE WINNING. I have a deep desire to prove myself to those around me who believe in me and my abilities and motivate me to keep going. I feel like I owe it to them to put it all on the line and do the absolute best I can, and fuckstomp anyone in my way. Right now, the only person in my way is me. And it sucks. I have several issues with flexibility and need to find a way to get MUCH better than where I am currently at. So on a daily basis, it’s a race against myself. While there are a couple of names written on the board with times or numbers that I am trying to compete with at the box, I know where I need to fall in line to prove myself. Anyone who says “don’t chase the numbers” is just trying to make you feel ok with being mediocre. I want to chase the best numbers, and I want to shit all over them. I want to be the best. That’s just the way it is. Why do it if I’m not going to put my all and everything into it? While I may get frustrated and hell-bent on myself and my abilities in certain areas, I also have to stop and think, “Yo son, you’ve only been doing this shit for 9 months.” It doesn’t come overnight. And it also isn’t out of my reach. I just need to be smart, practice (at working out, how goofy does that realistically sound sometimes?), and continue to learn what my coaches, friends, teammates have to offer, and make use of it the correct and intelligent way.

FUCKING DESTROY EVERYTHING.

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So take a guess what the workout includes today. Yup. Snatch. In one form or another. This time it’s actually the snatch balance (and no, I’m not referring to pH, ladies.) What is the snatch balance you ask? Well, let me do my best to explain it to you. With the barbell across your back, and your hands in the snatch position, your feet should be where you would naturally land in your snatch position. Then, without jerking the bar (this shit just doesn’t get any less perverse, does it?) you drop underneath the bar into a squat position, while basically holding the bar and weight locked out overhead. Sounds pretty simple right? That happens a lot with some of these movements. The shit sounds simple, but ends up being the most difficult fucking thing I’ve ever attempted to do. Who knew locking out a quarter of my body weight overhead would turn me into a gaping vag wound with no strength or flexibility? (ok, its not quite as bad as 1/4 body weight, maybe 1/2.)

So anyhow, after looking like a turd doing the snatch balances, we move onto the metcon that includes overhead squats. The same situation exists here with my inability to flex or squat correctly with the weight overhead. This is the first time in ages I’ve had to scale a workout, and I cannot tell you how disappointed I was knowing I couldn’t accomplish the workout as RX. Insert giant sad face here. On a serious note, I suppose it’s better that I do the weight my body can control and I can learn with, instead of failing each lift and not gaining anything from the workout at all. Either way, I felt like a sissy LaLa, and it was pretty upsetting knowing I couldn’t go full bore on the workout. But enough about me complaining.

The workout was 4 rounds for time of 4 push-press at 135lbs, 8 OHS @ 135lbs, 12 KB swings @ 32kg, and 16 lateral jumps over 90# of plates (2 45′s stacked). The scale was 95lbs for me, which is weak, because its under 100lbs for one, but also because it makes me look like a punk bitch. I’ll keep this short because I’m not very proud of it, but I got through 3 rounds and 4 squats. After the workout, I continued working on the snatch and squat position, and with some coaching from Rudy, was starting to find a comfortable spot where I could control the weight, my depth, and the balance of my position. I really had to think about the position, which hopefully will build its way into my muscle memory.

Sorry this one wasn’t as exciting as some of the others. You’ll live.

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So all that snatch work from the previous day smoked my shoulders and arms. They’re not really in pain, but I definitely don’t have any strength or feeling in them. Is that good or bad? Sometimes I think I should consult with a physician on a regular basis, not just to find out if I’m dying or not. I like getting banged up a little bit (kinky) but I really don’t know what kind of stress I am actually putting on my body. And to a degree, I honestly don’t care. I feel like if I can get over it with a few days of rest, then I’m probably somewhere in the realm of  “OK.” And that’s good enough for me.

This workout didn’t have any strength warm-up or anything, it was just right into the rounds. It was kind of an awkward clusterfuck of a workout too. 5 rounds of 1 min max effort chest to bar pullups, then 3 min AMRAP of 5 deadlifts @ 275lbs, and 30 double unders, then rest 1 min. Now you couldn’t count any rounds you did not finish. So if you got started on a round of 5 deadlifts, completed them, and only got 29 double unders before the time was up for the round, you didn’t get credit for ANY of that round. Whack right? I know.

Immediately I knew I was fucked for the C2B pullups because my arms and shoulders were fucked. Double. Fucked. I figured if I could get 10 a minute, that would be decent, and then I could waste all of my energy on the AMRAP. The first set of C2Bs I was able to do 12, and that was with a break for chalk and moving between bars. Not too bad, but I think I could have gone much faster with some decent strength (and maybe I shouldn’t have been doing muscle-up practice prior to the workout either, whoops!) back in my arms, and a little bit of effort to string them together. The rest of the rounds I ended up at 10 each time. I felt fatigued, and it just wasn’t worth the effort to burn myself out.

Now, the real motherfucker was the AMRAP. Specifically the double unders. I can lift heavy shit all day (incorrectly I might add) but when I am just a little winded, tired, being a huge pussy, double unders become Satan’s torture tool, and make me want to shoot myself. Or yell. I usually yell. Not only was this a pain because of the stamina effort, but also because I was going from deadlifts wearing no shoes, to double unders with no shoes. Constantly jumping up and down barefoot is not exciting by any means, nor does it feel good. Landing on cold hard cement is painful, and quite frankly, not the kind of pain I’m into (choking and punching in the face for me only, plz!)  I would have liked to complete 2 rounds each 3 min set, but that wasn’t the case for rounds 4 and 5. I also had an issue with my form on my deadlifts, and kind of exploded at someone who was yelling at me about my form. This is the anger part of my workout. I should probably control that and not try to ostracize myself in the gym as the guy who just gets mad when you correct him. My total reps were 332, which wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t nearly as close to a number I wanted to accomplish.

Afterwards I did some GHD situps (which I really like now, those are gonna be my new supplement work) and some reverse hypers. Now, the reverse hypers are cool and all, but they really hurt your groin. And by groin, I mean balls. Another bit of pain I really am not partial to being exposed to. The GHD situps are pretty awesome though, and kind of utilize a strength I have with being quad strong, and they could really play to my benefit.

Dinner was breakfast. Like really, I made breakfast. Hashbrowns, eggs, and bacon with a glass of milk. So yummy.

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So lets get back into descriptive bitching writing, or basically how much I hate the snatch. Yes, it’s going to be quite a routine this time around with how much shit I’m expected to throw over my head and squat with. My numbers say I should snatch decent amounts of weight, but my body says fuck no (insert bump and grind lyrics here). As soon as I start the squat with weight overhead it literally feels like my body is spring loaded to close up like a clam, or some briefcase safeguarding Marsellus Wallace’s personal belongings. Now with my strength and muscling through things, I can throw technique to the fucking wind, but that doesn’t help my progression at all, and in all seriousness what I really want is to GET BETTER.

So the day starts off with 15 minutes to establish 1RM Snatch. Now, there was no requirement for it to be a complete squat snatch, but who wants to half ass it? (me). I knew as soon as I started that this was going to be a shitty day for my snatch practice. Lindsey game me an excellent pointer a few days ago, and I started off by utilizing that technique to get my position and balance down. Just wasn’t with much weight. As soon as I start to tack weight on, BLAM! Form goes to shit as soon as the squat comes into play. What. The. Fuck. This shit really gets me pissed, causes me to close up, and get angry about everything. I even go as far as yelling at myself in the third person, and I’m sure my teammates think I’m a fucking weirdo because of this. After all of the pacing, screaming, anger, stomping, frustration and laughing (because crying would be sad) I was only able to get 135 up in a clean and tidy squat snatch. Shenanigans.

The metcon however, quickly volunteered to become my bitch. 7 rounds of 7 thrusters at 95 lbs, and 11 burpees. Yeah, you’re probably saying “that’s it?” but that’s because you’re an asshole, and don’t understand the amount of energy and work that goes into a workout like that. My main goal was to try and do all of the the thrusters unbroken. That barely lasted 3 rounds. The hardest part was trying to catch a breath after holding the barbell on my chest (as well as doing 11 thrusters on the 4th round because I’m kind of retarded). But I blasted through the workout in 9:42 and felt like exploding afterwards.

So I let my body cool down for a little bit, and got some great coaching from Rudy about what I could do to help my balance and strength with the weight overhead. He basically had me do a squat balance, and sit there in the squat position for 15 to 20 seconds, while trying to stretch everything and get comfortable with the flexibility. With just a small amount of weight on the bar, I could feel my body shaking and convulsing and basically trying to shake the weight off like a wet dog. My body is stupid. I have no flexibility, but I don’t want to do something like yoga, because that shit’s for pussies. Looks like I’ll be frequenting mobilitywod.com soon….

I also started stringing together no-false grip muscle-ups. Get some.

The History of Self-Realization

Yeah, its been a while since I updated. Blah blah, I took a trip to colorado for a week, I’ve been busy with work, get over it. I think I’ll try and roll everything into this one post for the last week or so. Maybe 2 weeks. Whatever.

First things first. There is no where that trains like we do at Outlaw. We have 2 sets of programming going on right now. The Epic-Elite-Cockpunching-Life workout (sorry Epic, I’m stealing that shit too) that the better athletes worker-outters are doing right now, and then you have the “Peasant” workouts that the pussies not as good worker-outters like me are subject to for now. While the later is not quite as intense as the former, it’s still dickstomping the rest of the affiliate workouts around the globe. If you don’t think so, suck my butt and try again. This was evident from my trip to Colorado 2 weeks ago (and visiting some other gyms and playing nice by doing their sissy workouts), and the unfortunate realization that if I ever leave this place, I will never have training as hard or awesome as I do now.

This post I’m not going to go into detail about the workouts like I usually do drone on about, but I just wanted to touch lightly (tip-to-tip actually) on how the programming from other boxes pales in comparison to what we do. Now I don’t want to sound like too much of an arrogant prick, but I also like to think I can make an intelligent judgment call based on the experience and time spent endlessly educating myself searching the internet to get a better understanding of what workouts other people are doing and why they are not nearly as productive as I may be in the same aspect in what I am accomplishing. Even when we do team-WODs, we turn up the intensity and volume to something that make you go “why the fuck am I getting up this early on a holiday for this shit?” But god-damn, is it starting to help me look good naked. Call it an ego-boost or whatever you will, but the proof is in the pudding. Just look at the extensive resume that Outlaw displays in the realm of competitive fitness. All in all, it may simply just be “working out,” but we are fucking good at it.

I go through these spurts of appreciation every few months (its like my man-period or something) and I really start to fall back in love with what I am doing, and try to separate the reality from bullshit. Right now I am in that place. People are gonna be like, “Yo, Eric, are you man-crushing on all your homies at the gym?” and I’m gonna be like “Naw dawg, I’m just really proud of what everyone is accomplishing right now.” If that creeps you out, well then oh well, everyone has their little pride party, and this is mine, so don’t fucking ruin it.

Regardless of all the hard work and dedication to following Rudy and his programming (he even hooked me up with a recovery WOD for a day while I was healing a tattoo off the top of his head), I am still a fucking schmuck at snatches.

Also, I drew this. On a wall. It’s not done yet, so keep your shitty comments to yourself.

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So today we decided to take a little field trip from Outlaw, and work out at the gym on Andrews Air Force Base. Now, if there’s one thing you should know about Military gyms, is that its basically one giant posturing watering-hole. Every goofball GI there is trying to present themselves like a flashy, wild peacock to whatever female might be sluggishly running un-fatting herself around the track. This is usually very entertaining to watch, especially when the obvious ones don’t realize they are being watched. So not only was this incentive to crush the living hell out of this workout and make everyone feel inadequate, it was also a study in human interaction!

The strength part of the warm-up was box squats. Again. Didn’t we just do this? Let’s stop doing things that Eric is not good at, ok? So it was basically 2 box squats every minute on the minute for 10 minutes. We were supposed to go heavy, but because I’d rather work on form than strength with this, I just went with 145lbs.
The WOD was 4 rounds for time of a 400m run, 15 over the box jumps at 20 inches, and 10 toes to bar. There was a 2 minute rest between each round, and the work had to be completed entirely in 20 minutes (to include the rest periods). I knew if I wanted to get this WOD completed, I was going to have to really pick it up on my runs. The only issue was, Andrews has a 10th of a mile track, and trying to cruise around that thing at a reasonable pace really tests your ability to withstand G-forces while sprinting around the small corners. I got through each of the rounds in about 3 minutes, but the best part of it was staying consistent. My total time was 18:15.

I was feeling good with this, and wanted to continue working out so I didn’t waste any of the time we were there. I did some more toes 2 bar, but the stupid ass gym personnel don’t allow chalk on their cage setup, but they’ll let people throw tape all over the fucking thing (which makes total sense, don’t use something that can be washed away, but allow moron GI’s to leave sticky shit all over the bars). So after that, I wanted to see how well I could do on some box jumps. I started with the 24″, and just started adding height with the bumper plates that were around there. This is the end result. I didn’t attempt to go any higher, and this was the last jump I did that night.

After all of this, we went to eat at Ted’s Montana Grill. I had the bison meatloaf. It was amazing. The sides were green beans, and garlic mashed potatoes. Thomas somehow convinced us all to play credit card roulette for the bill (which was like 85$) and Tony ended up getting stuck with the bill. Sucker.

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Filling in the title to this, i realize this year has gone by in an absolute blur. The leaves are changing colors, there has been snow already, and its just flat out too fucking cold. This evening after the workout was incredible though, the weather was perfect, and the sunset was gorgeous. Yeah, I’m gettin’ a little too mushy. Time to man up and talk about pussies and weightlifting, right?

Wait, what weightlifting? There was none of that in today’s WOD! What crap! Not even a strength warmup! What is this shit? Oh, we are doing 500 total reps of shit. Greeaaaaat. What are the reps you ask? Well, let me tell you. It goes a little somethin’ like this! 100 walking lunges with a 45# plate overhead, 25 pushups, 100 double unders, 25 pushups, 100 high pulls using a snatch grip with 45lb barbell, 25 pushups, 100 abmat situps, topped off with 25 pushups. Thats a lot of shit. When we have high volume days, we obviously don’t fuck around down here at Outlaw CrossFit (thanks Rudy).

So as we start it off, I’m trying to gauge in my head where my pace will be. I thinking if I can get at least 20 lunges in each set (which thankfully turned out to be 1 length of the gym, so it made it much easier to manage) I could take a small break in between sets to gather myself and just move through the next round of 20. That worked for the first 2 lengths. I think I got like 8 steps in on the 3rd, and tried to force myself (NAME PUN!) to get to 10 at least, so it was a nice split of 10/10 on the way down. Eventually I started taking a break every few steps, and it just turned into booty. I finished these in decent time though, and moved onto the first set of pushups. During the pushups I remember thinking to myself, “man, my quads are really tight, this feels strange.” Seeing as I had just done 100 lunges with a 45lb plate over my head, this kind of made sense. What I didn’t think of, was that I would probably need my legs to jump over the jump rope during the double unders. As soon as I started the double unders, I realize, “Holy shit, I really can’t jump that well right now. Oh the irony!” Needless to say, that group of 100 sucked. There were some here and theres, a few sets of 25 or so, and the rest was just get it in as fast as I could (that’s what she said) so that I could finish it. The pushups were starting to get a little rough as well. To keep myself mentally focused, I was trying to break them into sets of 5, just to bang through 5, take a breath, bang through 5 more, and continue in that manner. I think while resting I ended up drooling on the ground quite a bit. It was pretty gross. Like, total face to mat contact gross. The high pulls were pretty easy, I did them in sets of 10 just to keep from burning myself out, and tried to focus on my form a little bit as well while doing a marathon style WOD. Did I mention the time-limit was 30 minutes? Who the fuck in their right-mind works out for 30 minutes straight (apart from you hippies on your ellipticals and treadmills and shit)? Another set of pushups, nothing new, they sucked, and then onto the abmat situps. I try to get through 100 situps without taking a break. I was doing really well, and there was great music playing, until Lindsey goes over to the stereo, unplugs Jimmy Eat World – The Sweetness, and totally fucks up my feng-shui (thats fung shway for you white people). So now I have to get back in the groove and finish this shit up, so I don’t have to listen to whatever is on now. Abmat situps done, onto the last set of pushups, and I’m starting to struggle now because my body is just fried. So, what do my friends (specifically Hayley) yell to get me motivated? “Eric! Get your penis off the ground!” Thanks Hayley. You have now made pushups forever awkward.

Dinner was excellent. I met Tony at his place, and then we met Thomas, his girlfriend Mara, Lindsey and Hayley at Virtue. Initially I wanted to club the fuck who was our server because he wouldn’t let me sit where I was at when we came in, and the only thing I could think of was throwing him down the stairs, but after my temper things calmed down, it was a great night. The food was exquisite (there’s a doozy!). I had the shortribs with veggies, and it literally just fell off the bone. Absolutely stunning. And Thomas’ beer was such a pussy, it had to wear a flotation device. Here is photo evidence.

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Practice practice practice. That’ what you’re supposed to do when you want to get better at something, right? Only thing is, I don’t practice at all when it comes to snatches (let the snickering commence!). I should, but I don’t. Primarily because I fucking hate snatches (no-homo). I hate them specifically because I am not good at them. I am not good at them because I don’t practice them. I don’t practice them because I hate them. Do you see where I am going with this? This is the epitome of a vicious cycle. So what did the workout include today? Fucking snatches.

The warmup was 15 minutes to establish a 1RM hanging squat snatch. This means the barbell must hang just above the knee, then you must open your hips, lifting the bar towards your chin, dropping your weight to the floor in a squat position, and snapping the weight overhead in the snatch position. Now, I believe that the snatch is honestly the hardest weightlifting movement in existence. I have decent numbers in the clean, jerk, squats, bench, press, and deadlift. According to these numbers, I should have a killer snatch (tee-hee). The best snatch I have ever done (this just gets more and more dirty as we move along) was 145lbs at a bodyweight of almost 200lbs. There are dudes in the gym that weight 150lbs snatching more than bodyweight. Now, I know that I am still someone novice to this lift, but this makes me feel like a complete fucking pussy, vagina, sissy, buffoon. I was able to get 135lbs up with this hanging squat clean, but it took me failing over and over and over again to get it. Part of it is my terrible technique. Most of it is being mentally retarded, and psyching myself out with the lift.

The WOD was a 12min AMRAP of 10 chest 2 bar pullups, 10 hanging squat snatches @ 95lbs, and 10 burpees. Of course. More snatches. Fuck. My. Life. Today really made me feel inadequate. I really, really struggle with this movement, I don’t think I can stress that enough. So as I get through the first round, and start the snatches on the second, I am really starting to struggle with the lift. I yelled some pretty stupid shit, which Thomas Hanson made fun of me for (because hes famous and shit or something?) and then the “Miracle Worker” Lindsey Adkins came over, evaluated my lift, and educated my deaf, blind and dumb ass on what I was doing wrong. And what happens after that? Oh, I start getting the snatch. 5 in a row. That’s never happened before. Dumbass. Apparently this whole time, I’ve been trying to rush the lift, and not opening my hips all the way, and starting the snap overhead way too early. Someday I’ll get better at this shit, until then, I’ll just punch myself in the face for being stupid.

Dinner was chicken tostadas again, except this time I had friends over to enjoy it with. Here is a picture of my absurdly colored lifting gear.

and these are my friends who love my cookin’.

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So I hate running. We’ve established that. No surprise that we are doing a running WOD today. And not just any WOD, we are doing Helen. Helen is a crazy bitch. No, really, my friend Rich was bangin’ this crazy asian broad named Helen. No joke. But on to the workout. “Helen” is 3 rounds for time of a 400m run, 21 kettlebell swings @24kgs, and 12 pullups. We have been testing the ladies all week, and the ladies are getting sassy.

The strength workout for this was a 5×5 back squat sequence at 70% of my 1RM. I put 245 on the bar. I also got to be the demo-bitch. That was a first. Being put on the spot makes me feel like everyone is judging my form have to lift with proper technique. Why do that when I can just muscle through everything, right? The best part about the strength work was that I got to wear my sweet shoes with new matching socks, that my boyfriend Tony Mayo got me. He’s not really my boyfriend, though. I like vagina’s. Not dude butts. Anyhow. I have a bad left knee, so I kind of lean and/or baby it without going as deep on that side in my squats. I got called out on it too. I really need to get a second opinion on this thing, my first doc said there was nothing wrong with it (apart from a detached ossicle) and that it is perfectly healthy. Time will tell, or I’ll blow out my knee. One of the two.

After all this is said and done, we are on to “Helen.” I always sandbag the shit out of my runs. It’s just what happens. So Lindsey yells at me and says “If you sandbag your run I’m gonna punch you in the face.” Well then, how’s that for motivation? I guess if i want to keep my sweet, boyish looks, I had better get out there and run then, eh? Oh, have you ever run after doing a heavy squat set? Yeah, fuck my legs (primarily my quads) were on fire. So I tried to run as hard/fast as I could. Man did that suck. Now I didn’t say I didn’t do it, in fact, I ran pretty hard all three rounds. The kettle bell swings were pretty easy, especially after having to swing that 32kg bell as often as we have. I was really surprise at how light the weight felt. The pullups were pretty standard, and I was just splitting them up so I could get a small rest in between sets. I was dog tired. Where does dog tired come from anways? I finished in 10:39, and feel I could have been much faster if I didn’t have a squat warmup beforehand.

So the fantastic 4 ( you like that Sarah/Lindsey/Tony?) met up at TJ Stone. The brisket was delicious. I had it with the Carolina sauce, and my sides were sweet potato fries, and asparagus. Man, was that some good food. Tony was creepin the whole time. Here is picture proof.