… And Mel Is Down For The Count

Oh, my! I just woke up from one of those naps where I feel like I’ve been slipped a mickey then hit over the head with a cast iron skillet. That was some good napping, y’all.

My day started at 4:30 a.m. after another night of tossing and rutching and pillow fluffing. I don’t know what was up with my sleeping, but I did get to start a new book. (More on that tomorrow; The Jane Project may be in jeopardy.)

At 5:30, I gave up on the possibility of more sleep. Wandered around the house in the dark, fussed with my hair, picked out the perfect knee socks for my workout — you know, the important stuff. Then I went to Weight Watchers for my post-holiday weigh-in. Not too bad. I was up a little but still within the two-pounds-of-goal range. Whew.

And then: I Am CrossFit.

First of all, I was late getting to the gym. I was in line for body fat pinching when my workout group was warming up. Why, oh why, do I always seem to be late for the big workouts? Bad Mel! (My measurements were all down a little bit and my body fat percentage stayed the same since August, which I’m seeing as a victory because I spent a lot of time lifting only the TV remote during November while I recovered from my Frankenneck.)

Second, I was all flummoxed about whether I should do pullups with the band (15 reps) or jump from the box (30 reps). I chickened out and went for jumping/kipping from the box, which may have been a mistake. But inside, I was all… “I haven’t done a pullup since, like October… since I had my throat slit. Man! I had to have surgery. That was so scary. And my scar is itchy today. I wonder how it looks. I mean, I guess it’s OK to not be as strong as I was two months ago. I had SURGERY for god’s sake. I wonder if everyone thinks my neck looks gross. Maybe I should use the bands. Look at Bonita! Man! She can just do the pullups. I wonder what Erin did? I wonder if Julie is using the box.” And on and on like that.

Seriously.

And then suddenly it was time to get started. While Big Mike explained the workout, I did squats and pushups to get warmed up, then did a quick 200m jog. Tested the 65-lb. bar and deemed it hard but do-able.

3-2-1-GO!

We were off and running.

And oh, boy… did that suck.

The bad news: I didn’t finish all three rounds within the 12-minute cut-off time.

The good news: I did almost all of the hang cleans with the 65-lb. bar — and that shit was HARD!

I won’t bore you with the ugly blow-by-blow, but here’s how my rounds netted out:

Round 1
400m run
30 pullups –> some kipping from the box, some jumping
5 cleans w/ 65 lbs. + 2 cleans w/ 45 lbs.

Round 2
400m run
30 pullups –> some kipping from the box, some jumping
7 cleans w/ 65 lbs.

Round 3
400m run
5 pullups –> jumping

Meh. The DNF bugs me a little, but I’m also glad I tried for the heavy weight. I’d rather be thinking about how to get better for next time, then regretting a fast finish with light weight.

When I got home from the gym, Dave and I were supposed to run three miles around the lake. I had nothing. No gas in the tank. No commitment in my heart. Nada. Nil. Zilch. Zed.

Dave is the little engine that could and got his three miles in. (Yay, Dave!) I walked for a while, then spent about 10 minutes alternating :60 of hard running and walking. The hard runs felt fine, but I just couldn’t get myself to do any kind of continuous moving, no matter what the pace.

Back home, I flopped onto the bed (after massive consumption of food at Habanero). Three hours later (!), I woke up sweaty and woozy. It was one of those total lights-out naps. And now, after some protein and blueberries+milk and almonds, I feel ready for the rigors of watching a movie and maybe consuming a salad (but only if someone else makes it).

Guess the 11-mile run on Thursday and the two nights of no sleep caught me.