WOD (workout of the day*)
*Modified (Read here: if this were school, right now I'd be one of those kids on the short school bus. I joke about it from a former teacher's perspective but in all seriousness...that's the thing about CF -- Anyone can do this, they are careful to scale it to your fitness level. Intensity has nothing to do with ability. I am already noticing an increase in stamina and recovery time after a couple of weeks.)

x 2
10 Burpees (a hellish thing that involves a deep squat thrust to a splayed pushup, chest to floor, back to a squat up to pop up--arms over head and jump off the ground. Incidentally, one this is never a series of four fluid movements, for me it's about 8 to 9 very ungraceful ones and two, I never feel like burping, but I've thrown up in my mouth a few times...)
50 Jump Rope
25 Squats
10 Sit ups
15 KB Swings (L/R) (this involves a semi squat, swinging the weight between your leg and as you come up bringing the weight up to head level)
10 Pull ups (band or ring)
10 Box Jumps
10 Push ups
**400m Run**

This was Monday's workout.


Today's warm up- about 15 minutes give or take a minute or two.
Iron crosses (arms out, r foot to left hand without moving your torso, l foot to right hand same way.)
Scorpions (same as iron crosses, but on your belly)
Squats
Burpees
X3

The thing about the CF warm up is that it is misnamed--I mean it's misnamed in that it's an understatement for me at this point. By the time I am actually done with the 'warm up', I am sweating through my shirt, off my face ONTO my shirt and I am pretty sure I'm a nice shade of pink.

Today's WOD consisted of 25 of each:
Squats
Pull ups
2 sets of sit ups
2 sets push ups
alternating with a run after each set of exercises. The first 4 runs were 440s and the second 4 runs were 220s. My clothes stayed on, I didn't bleed, fall or throw up where it was visible to others. It did take me 35 minutes...

A lady came up to me as I was doing my pull ups and said, "Hey you're smart. You picked the bar closest to the door...I didn't have the heart to tell her, "I'm by the door in case I can't make it to the bathroom to ralph, I can at least I make it outside..." Heck who wants to be thought of as nauseous (and all the potentiality that includes) when they can think you're sharp instead?

Another guy ran me in so I made my 35 minute goal. "Come on, dig deep" takes on a whole new meaning now. Usually, I think I'd say it when I'm serving myself a big bowl of ice cream. lol
Seriously, I think I must have borrowed this guy's giddyup, because I coulda sworn by that second mile mine had already headed back to the barn. This is another difference I think about CF. It is such a crosssection of people and abilities, but they are all working hard and supportive of one another and demanding of 100% effort. Like one man said today, "When you are done, it doesn't matter how much you did or weight you lifted. At the end of the workout everyone feels the same way. Everyone has pushed as hard as they could."
'

I am really loving this!

Recent report on what is going on in Buquba, Iraq over at False Motivation. It was an Al Qaeda stronghold in the Fall and early winter. Found the link to it from Lt. Nixon Rants.

Tony handing me the instructions for the care and proper handling of his new Sony Walkman MP3 player for my perusal. (backstory)You can't see because of the glare, but on it is a picture of a washing machine and the device in a circle with a line through it or some such thing...

Tony getting his beat down for handing me said copy of the instructions for the care and proper handling of his new Sony Walkman MP3 player. Some of his thrashing was also for general sedition as of late. Oh yeah--and some of the beat down belongs to Mike, too.

I haven't decided what to do with my other friends who did not have my back. I'll have to think about that a little more and afford it the creativity it deserves. Beat downs are just fine for the jarheads though.

Jonathan Ferrey, Getty Images

Danica, Danica! Whaddya doing, mama? Ack. You picked a man's sport. Quit yer cryin'--- at least in public! It suggests surprise as in "I can't believe I just won...NOT. It should be, "Damn right I won! Yeahhhhh!" (see below)

And AOL how 'bout you put up a different picture for your lead? You didn't help-- gheesh.

This one was good--what with the whole triumphant, confident thing she had going......

Yuh...more with the stereotypes...sigh...look I didn't make the rules...going to go put on my asbestos pants now...You know-- like the ones Danica was probably wearing in this picture...

"License and registration, please.
Ma'am do you know how fast you were going?"

"No, Officer, I'm sorry. I don't."

"Where are you going 10 miles over the speed limit, ma'am?"


"I'm trying to make the post office before it closes."

Officer glances in the backseat at the half dozen boxes and tote bag of 2 dozen more letters. Some of the boxes are clearly marked for Marines and soldiers either with funny cartoon or moto stuff like this.

"These are going over seas?"

"Yes, sir."

"Iraq or Afghanistan?"

"Both and some to Africa."

"I see."

"You have kids there?"

"No, sir.
I'm lucky my kids are safe here. It's just to help some folks a little."

"Uh huh.
I see.
Well, Ma'am I'd like you to slow down. Can you do that?"

"Yes, sir."

"Alright then, have a nice day."

"Thank you, have a nice day yourself."

whew...

Lt. Nixon Rants

If you haven't been to see this blog, you should. He's intelligent, but does not take himself too seriously. One of my favorite things about his blog is he puts together posts that looks like this. If he isn't on your blog roll and you are trying to keep tabs on things in Iraq, this is a good place to start.

Rats.

Lately, I have been enjoying sleep about this time.

You know.

Like normal people.

Sigh.

Enough said.

This was just posted at One Marine's View.

Major and all of your Marines there. My prayers are with you.


April 18, 2008
We are Marines
I was going to update on the high temps, sand flea bites and tics but below is a much more simple post. All is good-Semper Fi.

We are Marines. Many people don’t understand what we do as Marines nor do they really want to know. Many people are just thankful that we are out there. The force between them and evil. They are quick to chastise us or point out the rare occasions when we drift, however, they beg for us to go stand between them and fear. In the very recent past, we have lost two Marines from our unit, the first of this deployment, many of the last few deployments. They are warriors, school teachers and sons. They wanted to make a difference and they did. Now that we have grieved and have held a memorial, we put our helmets back on, push outside the wire and continue to keep the wolf at bay. Why you ask? Because we are Marines.
God Bless them both and their families-Semper Fi

Shoved to Them sent me a meme a while back and I haven't answered yet. 7 things to share about me. It's always a funny meme because I think we write this stuff down to show one thing about ourselves and we wind up showing something else. hmmm...

I think I will work it like this:

7 things going on right this minute.

1. I am putting away laundry and cleaning out closets.

2. I'm sore, but today I am noticing a lot of muscles twitching and firing for no apparent reason.

3. I am beating back a cold. Sleep has been my friend lately...imagine that.

4. Jake is about to get duct taped to a chair so his math will get done. Hey this is home school, baby, I can DO that.

5. Looked at some Cross fit video. These folks are ferocious beasts. Beasts, I tell you. There are no other words.

6. All my Marines and soldiers save two outfits are pretty well out of harms way for the time being. Hallelujah! Prayer to them is constant.

7. Since I can't seem to get enough to eat or drink these days I need to go into the kitchen and find something nutritionally sound so I don't inhale massive amounts of carbs.

I came down with cold.
and I'm sore,
of course--the sore part I like,
but I wasn't about to NOT show for the workout.

I tend to play sick little games with myself when I think I need something extrinsic to motivate myself.

In this case here was today's moto. This is Tony's old USMC boot camp tshirt.

I showed.

I showed in the Tshirt Tony said I could have as long as I brought it no shame. lol.
Sigh.
Once a jarhead always a jarhead.
Brought it no shame, huh?
Now we can't have THAT now can we?
Incidentally, aside from my dear husband/jarhead there are other Marines I know who would stand in line behind him to give me grief, if I went wienie in any garment with USMC affiliation.

We really can't have that.

The warm up was particularly brutal and unusually long. The scuttlebutt is that Wednesday is the big burn day. I would have to concur after the fact as would most of my major muscle groups.

Things I forgot:

I suck at jumping rope.

When I am pushing through something I close my eyes...not a good idea with these kinds of workouts.

How bad running into high wind can slap your backside

oh yeah and

That I had scabs on my knees when they asked me to switch from pushups from the feet to the knees. Owiee...throw in a really rugged Charley horse when the trainer said wrap your ankles around one another and the only thing that stood between me and a crying jag was the tshirt promise and having to know forever a workout made me cry.

Can you say ROT IN HELL first?

I knew you could.

Workouts so far have done one of two things:

They can knock you down while you are in the midst of them or they can lull you into a false sense of security and make you cry like a little girl the next morning.

I'm at the whole little girl/next morning thing today. I woke up an hour late and not able to make the bed. Obviously, my arms, shoulders and core had words with my quads and hamstrings regarding their recent parking lot debacle and so a coup was staged overnight while I slept with the dead. I was able to thwart their attempt at revolution after about an hour of consciousness, some stretching, breakfast and children chasing.

Last nights' workout did not involve all the same muscle groups as Friday.

Hallelujah!

With a strategy of not thinking about anything, but the next rep, I moved through the routine pretty well for all the hurt involved. It was a good hurt. I tore my knees up on the mats rolling prone to back, again and again, but I didn't notice until later. I dipped, lifted, broad jumped, and other stuff that I can't remember the name of now, though I do remember their effect with great clarity.

I'll say it again: IT ROCKED!


When I got in there, the same trainer who asked me, if I wanted my check back the last time, wanted to know how I was doing. She bird dogged me around the gym and brought in reinforcements when I was to hang off a twelve foot bar and lift knees to elbows until it felt like my guts were going to burst out of my bellybutton--it was about that time I noticed my bloody knees.


The trainer called in an assistant and they both tried to look nonchalantly fascinated with the gym stereo near the high bar I was hanging off of. I recognized the body language of a nervous mother watching her 3 year old on a play scape. I also recognized how ready they were making themselves to keep me from cracking my head on the concrete under the bars should I loose my grip. Since they had the playground mom thing down well enough I went ahead and played the part of oblivious three year old.

CF, so far, has been marked with these extreme moments where I find myself wanting so much to accomplish something that I am sure it is that will and not my body that makes it happen. Well-- at least in this case I was able to make it happen. I am eating it enough in workouts to know when I will 'eat it' is determined on a case by case basis. I climbed up to reach the bar, did my reps and got down without splattering myself on the concrete underneath. Whew. It felt like I had climbed Everest, in obscurity, of course, but who the hell cares?

As an aside,

and

because I have had some questions off blog this morning,

I thought I would offer some testimony since the questions bear answering.

I am not only using my own experience, but also my friend Mike's. He's been working CF for quite a few years. From what I gather he is a monster in the CF gym and his reputation precedes him in certain circles. I can talk it fine enough,but he has walked it already.

To begin, the evidence of CF in action, a picture is, afterall, worth a thousand words--was watching Mike with the kids at the beach a couple of weeks ago. The loved his level of physicality with them.







I forgot how much fun it was to be strong and play with them so hard, but after taking on all those beach house steps and carrying all the boxes of food and luggage and noticing the huge black an blue marks from those boxes slamming into my thighs as I climbed, I realized how much I needed to make a change.

I ran and jumped in the surf, too. The kids and I went for walks, chased birds, picked up shells and just generally raced up and down the beach--but I paid dearly later. Tony has also always been in fairly decent shape, he too was able to run and toss the kids around. Though since the visit I think it sits on the back of his mind that he'd like to make some changes,too. I agree with him. Being fit is another way to connect with our kids. I saw it in great evidence as I watched Mike slice through surf with 125 pound of kiddos slung across shoulders and under arms like they were the odd pieces of flotsam and the water was air.

They_had_a_blast.

It struck a chord.


It's why I am driving 45 minutes to a bad neighborhood and walking out of there with bloody knees, covered in sweat and dirt with my ponytail coming out of my left ear .

LOL.


Mike says I should ask the trainers what kind of odds they are offering on me--you know, see if I can get in on the action.


I believe I will.

So wanting a non-gelatinous bod has led me to pick this hardcore fitness regimen called CrossFit. I have been working on weight loss and some PT for about a year, but nothing like this. Though I suspect wanting something ultra physical, stripped down and brutal are other reasons it speaks to me. The program has had an underground following for a few years and is beginning to become more popular.

I have one thing to say about CF:
CF = P.A.I.N.
Okay two-no, three things to say:
I love it.
It's a perfect fit for me.

I have only been just a little while and so the brutality of the workout is still quite fresh. It still has that whole new car smell-- 'course the smell isn't some version of factory plastic and upholstery, it's more like blood and sweat.

Zen Traveler brought it to my attention and then later when I made some inquiries with my milfolk turns out several of them are pretty involved in it, too. Well, of COURSE, they were.

The first workout involved them putting me through my paces. Uh huh.
It didn't take long.

The trainers warmed me up with squats from the seventh circle of hell and then put me to do pullups. Incidentally, up suggests defying gravity and after 20 squats gravity became the enemy to overcome. By the time the warm up-read here- frontal assault was over my quads were not on speaking terms with my brain...well...they were, but the language was offensive.

At one point I get out to the parking lot for the running portion of the workout and I'm thinking surely by the time I get the few meters out to where the trainer with the stopwatch is, my muscles will stop twitching and shrieking "what the hell is going on out there??!"..... It won't feel like I am balancing my torso on such wobbly stilts....NOOOOOOOOPE!!

The masochis...I mean the trainer says go and I comply, too bad the rest of me doesn't. Next thing I know I am on my butt re-experiencing gravity. Like I didn't get it the first time.

So while I am 'walking' aka getting an idea of what it must feel like to only have control over half of the ligaments and tendons in my lower body, I'm assuming trainer #1 is going back into the gym to take bets I will be driving off in my station wagon any minute.

NOT.
I was prepared to crawl on my hands and knees if I had to, but NO WAY was I not sucking it up. Failure was not an option though humiliation seemed to be requisite.

So I have been walking/jogging a couple two or three miles over the weekend, trying to stretch and remembering what it was like to workout and push myself physically.

I'll talk about it more, but suffice to say at the end, they wanted to know if I wanted my check back. Sometimes it happens they said. The main trainer was watching expressionless. I looked at all three and I squashed my 'look you ....I have had 3 ten pound babies at home and can work standing up 48 hours at a time, you can take that check and..."
Nope.
I didn't go there.
They don't know how me very well.
so
I did something unusual.
I just gritted my teeth and instead said,
"No. Keep it. I'll see you Monday."

I was working on some unrelated things here and came across two quotes:

Brick walls are there for a reason. They're there to show you how badly you want something.

All I can say is given that I must want this REALLY REALLY desperately.

Another quote from the same piece is by Jon Snoddy:
Wait long enough and people will surprise and impress you. When you are pissed off and angry at them you just haven't given them enough time.
And here I thought a good punch in the mouth always took care of things.

SUN TZU ON THE ART OF WAR
11:24. Soldiers when in desperate straits lose the sense of fear. If there is no place of refuge, they will stand firm. If they are in hostile country,they will show a stubborn front. If there is no help for it, they will fight hard.

I can see this. Though I have to say, even in dire straights I always like to know someone has my back. I can be stubborn AND fight hard AND feel motivated when someone has my six, but hey that's just me.