Today we did dead-lifts. I got a new Personal Record at 183 pounds. I might have been able to do more, but we ran out of time, and it was probably a good thing because my form was getting stanky.
The WOD was a ridiculous Amish endeavor. Not a barn-raising, but close. Two rounds, with two minutes rest in between, of
- 50 left-handed sledgehammer swings (that’s where you bash the shit out of a tractor tire with a sledge)
- 50-meter right-handed farmer walk (that’s where you just pick up a kettle bell [or a pail of milk, I guess] in one hand and walk with it by your side), Rx for women was a 52-pound kettle bell
- 50-meter left-handed farmer walk
- 50 right-handed sledgehammer swings
Rx, shmarrex. Fuck if I was carrying a 52-pound kettle bell. I usually ask Coach Dave how I should scale the weight for the WOD…and then subtract another 15% when he’s not looking. But Dave wasn’t around, so I picked up a 30-pounder and walked outside.
The sledgehammer swings were awkward as hell, especially with my left hand forward. You have to choke up on the hammer with one hand in order to pick it up but then when you’re swinging it down, your choked-up hand slides down to meet your other. I can’t even write about clearly, much less do it. The coach was all, “The point is NOT to let gravity bring the hammer down! Put some force behind it!” And I was all, “I’m a beginner!” But a few times I caught a rhythm. (As a matter of fact, if you were in downtown Durham this evening and heard a beautiful bell-buoy-like bonging song, that was us. You’re welcome.)
I was way behind the others after the first set of swings, and there were a bunch of kettle bells just sitting there. I didn’t know where I put mine, so I grabbed a pretty silver one and farmer-walked away with it. I picked up the same one for round 2.
The second heat of people started doing the WOD while I was finishing. (Which is actually good because, when there aren’t two heats, it’s usually just me, still doing labored box jumps or something, while everyone else has their car keys in hand but stands around yelling, “Go Amy!” until I’m done.) I finished today’s WOD in thirteen minutes and something, dead last as usual.
When I was done, I looked at the kettle bell I had carried more closely. Carved on the side, it said “24 kilograms”. “Hm,” I thought, “that’s about…let’s see…multiply by 2.2…carry the 1…that’s 52 pounds! Fifty-two pounds! That was Rx. I just did a workout of the day as prescribed.”
So you know what? Other people did it better and faster and prettier than I did. (Indeed, Sandy Gray Niceface was over there swinging the sledgehammer one-handed. He looked like a caveman. A very attractive caveman.)
But I got an Rx by my name on the board. Woot!