Friday, Christmas Eve Eve, I went to work briefly to eat the last of the year's sugar. Screw it, I'm going to admit that I enjoyed over-eating, and I enjoyed eating not just non-paleo but outright junk food. I am also happy to put the dietary offences behind me.
Saturday, Christmas Eve, was my heavy squat and press day. There was quite a lot of volume overall, but the work sets on the press were 3 x 4 x 145, and the work sets on the squat were 3 x 4 x 310. Since I started lifting in the USAPL, I've made it a point to take all my squats too deep, so this was enough work to induce some real soreness in both the back and legs.
Sunday, Christmas, I rowed a marathon, 42,195 meters, on the C2. Yes I was sore, but my erging partner - who probably doesn't want any extra attention - ran about twelve miles Saturday and probably hurt as much or more than I did going in.
We had some delightful conversation and helped each other get to around 15,000 - 17,000 meters left when we went into our separate pain caves, and the solitary suffering began in earnest. My only real goal was to finish in under four hours, and while at times I was limping badly, I made it with a few minutes to spare.
My erg-buddy finished in essentially the same time as I did, and said, "that was fun." Then she explained that we'd have to do it earlier next year because she'll be gone for Christmas.
Holy Fuck. What a woman.
A.S. asked me via Internet if I'm rowing at 6:30 am tomorrow. No, A.S. I'm not, but that made me laugh harder than I have in months probably.
Whether you were with me physically or in spirit, that was awesome. Thanks for a memorable Christmas.
Yeah, maybe we can do it again next year.
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