i should have taken the fact that the WOD hadn’t been loaded onto the app as a big neon flashing sign saying “STAY AT HOME IF YOU VALUE YOUR LIFE”
but apparently i’m a sucker for pain and validation so off to crossfit I went
what a mistake
there on the board for all to see were two words that no one ever says sounding excited:
## “**FILTHY 50**”
to save anyone googling and turning up birthday pictures for slightly tipsy 50 year olds i’ll break it down.
that’s: **50** box jumps followed by **50** jumping pull ups followed by **50** kettlebell swings, **50** lunges, **50** hanging knee raises, **50** handstand push ups, **50** goblet squats, **50** burpees and then a ‘small’ **50**m run.
coach joe stood at the board with a smile that said “you signed up for this shit” and there was no escape.
the box jumps were okay. we all had 20" boxes and could either jump up or step up as long as you kept moving constantly and stood up straight with both feet on the box. that was probably the least torturous part of this.
then i moved onto the jumping pull ups. this is where you jump, grab the pull up bar, and use the momentum of your jump to get your chin over the bar. simple? NO. because i can’t reach the bar i have to stand on a box and that box tells everyone in the room that i have inferior height skills and there’s always an argument on how tall of a box i need beforehand. then i have to hope that my hands don’t rip when doing them (spoilers: they ripped). which sucks.
so i get through the pull ups and then i’m faced with my 16KG kettlebell (past!faye you betrayed me) and i had to swing this motherfucking KB through my legs and over my head 50 times. except i had to break it into 10s because my grip was **FUCKED** after the jumping pulls and sweaty. meanwhile the non height challenged class around me are about 30 reps ahead of me so i have to catch up as well.
in hindsight i blame the kettlebells for 25% of what happened on the run.
so i finish them and it’s then into lunges. remember the box jumps? well all those step ups made my thighs burn like hell itself and every lunge threatens to make me seize up and fall over. by this point the majority of the class is back on the pull up bar for their knee raises and so i am the lone lunger™ that coach joe is cheering on.
i am a wobbly mess when i return to the pull up bar.
**//flashback//** to when i mentioned my hands ripping? yeah that didn’t get any better.
the idea is that you hand from the bar, fully extended, and lift your knees up until they touch your chest. FIFTY DAMN TIMES. my poor hands.
i stare up at the bar like its the void and repeat “just 5 more” and the bar laughs back like “more like 35”.
but i finish them. if you’re like me and you can’t do handstand push ups then you scale them to [box hand stand push ups]. basically you kneel on a box and then drop your arms over one side like your an upside down L shape and do push ups.
alas this is the only movement i didn’t complete as 14 reps in my left wrist decides it’s going to be a little bitch about life and starts hurting. i trash talk it to myself for a while until my coach intervenes and i move onto the goblet squats.
here’s where i was regretting my choice of a 16KG KB. you have to cradle that damn weight like a baby and squat. that kettlebell doesn’t want to be fucking held. it’s a baby that wants to walk on its own because fuck u mom. breaking it up into 10s were the only thing i could do as people were flying through reps in front of me.
50 burpees stood between me and that last 50m run. i innocently thought as i was driving to the gym this morning “i kind of want to do some burpees today”
my emphasis on “some” was a ballpark of like 5 maximum. not this.
by this point i’m sweating, i’m swaying, i’m forgetting that there’s actual form to the burpees because i’m just collapsing onto the floor and standing up again to give the more pathetic little jump and clap i can muster.
50. Fucking. Times.
by this point i’m praying to the Dóttirs of crossfit to help me as if katrin davidsdottir is going to appear and tell me that everything will be okay if i walk with her into the light. i consider that seriously for a moment before realizing ‘into the light’ has no guarantee that there won’t be more burpees waiting for me on the other side.
meanwhile most people have finished so they are witness to my glory. i have a cheer squad counting and telling me when to breathe. i’m no longer a person but a burpee machine.
and then there’s one left before i’m walking to the door for my 50 meter run.
🙌🏻 the last run 🙌🏻
now those burpees make up the other 75% of blame for what happens when i’m 10 meters out of the gym.
luckily there was only one person walking with me for moral support when i bent over and threw up.
luckily the only thing that i’d consumed was a lot of blackcurrant juice so i was literally just throwing up blackcurrant juice.
(not so lucky is that i got another 10 meters further and threw up again. fuck burpees for real).
i made my humble victory shuffle back into the gym where everyone congratulated me on finishing and tried to ignore that i was crying into the neck of my shirt because it was OVER. i didn’t even care about my time i just wanted to lie on the floor.
i was done. i was free. i could put this horrible experience behind me and go home. i could never return and say i lived to tell the tale.
i could; but in what must have been a complete state of delirium, what did this dumb ass do the minute she finished?
fucking upgraded to an unlimited membership
🙃
(fuck burpees)