Living in the Midwest, it is not too often that you can open your windows in the middle of July. Even if the temperature is reasonable, it’s likely that the humidity makes it feel like you’re hunkering down in someone’s mouth. But today… I threw open every window in the house at 10am, and it has stayed a comfortable, dry 74 degrees with a nice fresh breeze in every room. There’s not a cloud in the sky, the birds are singing, and I picked up all the dog poop in the yard and weeded part of the garden without breaking a sweat. I feel like I’ve been given a rare, precious gift. I almost feel cheated that today’s a rest day, but the weather will be more of the same tomorrow, so it’s okay. Of course, the puppy has started shedding her baby fur (and my cat sheds year-round like it’s her job), so the wind is blowing little hairy tumbleweeds around the house, but it’s a small price to pay for not having to run the A/C.
That’s one of the signs of being a grown-up. You start bitching about the price of utilities. And in this house, we grit our teeth and suffer in discomfort during the extremes of summer and winter. (Summer thermostat–77. Winter thermostat–65. If it were up to me, it would be even lower in the winter, but Jason draws the line at having to wear a wool cap indoors. #baldpeopleproblems)
Yesterday’s WOD was a good one (well… they’re all “good,” but some hurt less than others). There was no time limit; no time kept at all, in fact (say whaaaaat?).
- Unbroken bench press (Rx 185/95; I used 75)
- 30 situps
- 50 DU/150 singles
5 rounds, scored by total bench press reps. I wasn’t able to get too terribly many reps in; Coach was wanting us to aim for 8-12 per round; I was only able to manage 4 or 5 (T-rex arms…). My total came out at 23, including a couple reps with a mighty T-rex roar to go with the puny T-rex arms. Banged out the situps, no problem. Situps are my friend. If you had told the 12-year-old me in junior high gym class that one day I would say “I like ab work!” I would have laughed till I puked.
I struggled with the jump rope, though. I have yet to get a single double-under, despite repeated whippings. And I don’t know if I was getting tired or just having trouble finding a proper-length rope, but even the singles were challenging last night. At one point, Coach came over while I was on a roll and counting, and just stared at me for a minute. I was waiting for him to start in with “17, 42, 38, 51…” just to mess with me and be a butt, but once I tripped up and took a mini-break, he was like, “You should be doing double-unders.” I told him I’ve never yet managed to do one, and he said we’d work on that next. I’m glad he has confidence in my ability to separate hands from feet, because I sure don’t. I think I just need to get a rope of my own, so I know it’s adjusted properly, and work on it regularly. Most of the things I struggle with are purely things I don’t yet have the strength for (pullups, boy pushups, Rx anything, etc). The jump rope is nothing but timing and coordination. At least it’s not something I can really hurt myself doing. I say that carefully, knowing that I have managed to trip and fall over while standing still. Sober.
Anyway, we got home and I showered and I noticed I’m getting tiny little pecs. I have never had pecs in my life–just a bony, wimpy, ribby chest. (How someone my size has ribs showing is beyond me.) I can tweak them and everything. They look like they belong on a six-year-old, but they’re more than I’ve ever had, so I’m going to claim them loud and proud.