So I sprang out of bed this morning ready to head out to “The Box” for my 5th “Fundamentals” class and workout. I noticed less aches and pains than I had this time last week, so I was feeling a bit cocky despite the fact that my period came yesterday. I am a (fledgeling) crossfitter now, dammit! Despite taking to my bed like Camille and avoiding not only gym class, but entire school days in highschool, at 49 because I am a badass fledgeling crossfitter, I was determined to ignore the flow and “just do it”.
Took a peek at the Box’s FB page to see what the workout of the day or WOD in Crossfit parlance. We would be doing the Annie, a benchmark workout. What could go wrong? Skipping rope and situps…no problem.
Got to the gym and again, I was the oldest tart in the bakery. Speaking of which, I find that I am with alarming frequency the oldest tart in the bakery these days. Can anyone explain to me then, as an old tart, why the hell my girlfriends who are (some of them) a few years younger than me, have been blessed with the menopause while I continue with the monthly joy? This is not a rhetorical question, I really want to know.
The warmup went ok. The core training was great; I can do a nice plank. Even the technique and strength training went pretty well. Then we met Annie:
Because I can’t do “double-unders”,(You know those bears, right? The ones where you jump so high you can whip the jump rope twice over your head…) I got to do the single-under, which meant more jumps than the gymrats who can do double-unders had to do.
150 single-unders, 50 butterfly situps, 120 single-unders, 40 butterfly situps, 90 single-unders, 30 butterfly situps, and so forth. I did the 150 single-unders with rests in between, a bit nervous about the feminine protection situation and 50, lets call them “idiosyncratic” situps because I can’t do the butterfly jobs. After that I hit a wall and felt the urge to run crying out of the building. There was no cause for this. Everybody at the Box is very nice and encouraging, I just felt miserable because everybody else was already halfway through the workout and the feminine protection situation was getting to critical mass.
Bucked myself up to get through the next 120 single-unders while the last person, save me was finishing the routine, did those, sat down for my wild and funky situps and realized that critical mass had been reached and I needed to go home for a shower NOW. I also decided that I hate Annie. Annie needs to be kicked. I am going to have so much fun hating Annie.