James can be reached at TwinFreaks CrossFit, where he is an owner and trainer. James coaches barbell lifting classes and CrossFit classes. Contact him by email at james@twinfreakscrossfit.com or by phone at 720-204-2631.

Tuesday, June 12, 2012

Country Roads

Sometimes it's good to get out of the comfort zone.  Burpees are not exactly in the comfort zone to begin with, but there's always room for dis-improvement.  Today I didn't get, but rather I was given, the idea to do my burpees to country music - thank you, L.B.

So today instead of Suicidal Tendencies, I did my burpees to some Travis McTravis fuck.  I mean I'm doing burpees, and Travis McTravis is whining about how his girlfriend left.

And so I thought like this: shut the fuck up.

Look, I had a girlfriend leave to - these things happen - and that not until she did some serious Exorcist shit screaming at me while her head was revolving in full circles, and now I'm not drinking my dog's beer, I'm doing burpees.

So just shut the fuck up.

And Travis McTravis shut the fuck up.  Maybe my anguished cries actually shut down the Internet, or maybe Pandora was just loading slowly as it sometimes does.  Regardless, it was quiet.

And in the quiet I heard the music of the burpee:

Feet-chest- feet. Feet-chest-feet.

one-two-three, one-two-three.

That, I think, is a waltz.  I'm not sure because I did quite poorly in my music appreciation course at the University of Iowa.  I was out too late playing with my hard core band.  Even then, it seems, I was into screwing things up my own way instead of studying how people maintained mediocrity for centuries.

So when I heard the Burpee Waltz I had a revelation.

I have become a conduit for the Universal Will to Burpee, and it's only natural then that I can hear the celestial choir.

And when my heart rate eventually slowed to under 200, I had a further thought: my God, I'm a wing nut.

Maybe I'm a wing nut.  I am nonetheless happy with the sense of empowerment burpees give me.  Six days a week I'm happy to wake up because I get to do burpees, and on the seventh day I'm elated to get up because I don't have to do burpees.

I'm probably okay. I worry more about my fellow contemporary Humans whose only sense of empowerment comes from the fierce self-reliance they develop going through the self checkout at the local supermarket.

The best country roads do not take you home, but to a better place than you've heretofore been.

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