Ah, Friday. Always an early day in our house. It’s a special kind of fun, sweating through a WOD before sunrise, breakfast, or coffee has happened. This time of year it’s tricky to get to sleep the night before, since it’s still kind of light when we have to go to bed, and last night was no exception. I don’t think I really got to sleep until close to 2:00, and with a 4:45 alarm… I basically staggered into the box this morning.
The cones were in the parking lot when we pulled in, so we knew there would be running. A part of me thinks “Ugh, running sucks” (that part is mostly centered around my left ankle), but another part of me is all “Oooooooh running in the dark is kind of fun!” That’s mostly my brain part. The rest of my parts are just sort of indifferent to running. It’s a means to an end.
So anyway, we knew part of the WOD before we started. We warm up, and Coach tells us we’re doing Nancy.
- 400m run
- 15 Overhead squats (Rx 95/65)
- 5 Rounds For Time
Fffffffaaaaaaaaaaah. Last time I did overhead squats–and it wasn’t that long ago–my shoulders hurt for days. I could hardly even dress myself. I don’t know what it is, but that couple feet of difference in grip width makes a HUGE impact on how heavy a bar feels. I warmed up on an empty 45# bar, and that ended up being my Nancy weight. Honestly, before we started, I was a little afraid I’d have to scale down to front squats after a couple rounds, even with just a 45# bar. If there was a girl bar available, I totally would have used it. But there wasn’t, and I’m glad of that now–after the first round, I decided I could do it, even though it was going to hurt. I was able to do all but one round unbroken, and it didn’t hurt as bad as I thought it would, and I finished in 20:12 (with a PR, since I hadn’t done it before). All in all, a good day at the box.
I still don’t like Nancy, though. She can take a shit and fall in it.
In other news, there’s some kind of kestrel turf war going on in our backyard. There are about six little softball-sized hawks flying around shrieking at each other. I don’t care who wins, but I wish they’d stop leaving picked-clean songbird carcasses where Tegan can find them, and maybe work on catching that mole that’s been edging closer and closer to the garden.