After deciding to compete in the USAPL meet July 31st, I realized my current cycle is of course not set up to peak at the end of July. Because of that, I've left my program behind and I'm lifting intuitively which can actually work quite well if you have enough experience to feel what your body wants to do.
Tuesday I was squatting with K.S., and it went:
45 x 5
135 x 5
185 x 3
225 x 3 wrist wraps on
275 x 3
315 x 1 wrist wraps and belt
345 x 1
375 x 1 wrist wraps, belt and EFS Heavies on
375 was easy, and I quit with 400 in the tank. C.H. has agreed to handle me at the meet, and he's going to be good at it. On his first try he got the knee wraps tight enough to leave bruises, and he promises to improve before the meet.
I'm not sure what I'll do next week, but I might hit a single for 395-405, or if it feels right I might single 375 with one set of chains - 375 bottom, 415 top. I'm sure I can smash 400 at the meet, but the walk-out in wraps is death-defying. 375 with chains trying to knock me over might be the way to go.
On 7/17 I'm going to try a squat cluster, probably 340 x 25 in 2's and 3's trying to keep the time under 25 minutes. After that it's just eating ultra-clean and making sure I come in at 181 pounds.
Sculling was fantastic today. On reflection, I can't say my quad is good, but we're much less amateurish than we were two or three weeks ago. I think I'm a natural born stroke, but I rowed in three today which wasn't bad, and we're thinking about putting me in bow again. As a coach/athlete, I try to shut the hell up and do what I'm told in the boat, which I can usually do, but I'm also simultaneously critiquing Coach Deb McCabe. It is amazing to watch how the right cue can transform me from a monkey to a reasonably proficient sculler. I'm trying to catch some of this coaching voodoo and use it in my own practice.
I continue to be angry on a daily basis over things that shouldn't affect me. I'm sure the long term solution is to keep reading Marcus Aurelias and associating with the fantastic people around me. Since that might take a while, a lifetime or more, I've decided to launch the RTD project. With the way my body feels, I've been thinking about an early retirement from power lifting after I squat 455 at 181, but now I want to squat 500 and do it in a sheltered RTD bus stop.
If I can do one thing before I die, I want to show people that they don't need Five Fingers, Progenix, Max Muscle, carpeted toilet seats, chrome faucets, 3-D televisions, constant hand holding, endless shit talk, and so on. Seriously, just shut up and try anything. Preferably for more than two weeks.
Of course I'm aware that things are never as bad as I tend to think they are. I taught Finn Walden to head-bang today, and that's pretty good.
Thursday, July 7, 2011
Saturday, June 25, 2011
Surfing
Miyamoto Musashi said, "There is no Way that can be approached and petitioned for immediate gratification. The Universe does not work that way. How could it and at the same time expect any perfection to develop?"
Which explains why, when the guy pulled next to me at 287 and 45th in Loveland and said, "dude, I dream of that mustache," I replied, "no problem, it just takes a year." True I have an innate talent for not shaving, but even so a year is not bad. Sometimes I wish everything were that easy, but then I couldn't rightfully expect any awesomeness to develop, and I'd have to trade my Musashi for coca-cola and reality TV.
And sometimes too I read my Herman Melville. Specifically the part about it being a cold rainy November of the soul and needing to go whaling.
And while I'd like to go whaling, or at least go back to sea for a year or two, that's impractical, so I try to figure things out.
Just about when E.W. linked the CrossFit Lisbeth blog about training alone on my Facebook page, I knew it was time to ditch my partners and squat again. Over time you learn that Dave Tate is right: there are only three ways a lift can go wrong; physiological, technical, or mental. I kept putting weight on the bar until I was sure my problem is entirely mental.
I'm going to continue my solitary dialog with my demons. Sorry, the public is not invited.
I could live with most of the demons, but that motherfucker who asks why I get out of bed and even try doing anything is killing me.
And that's why I had to go surfing. I don't surf, although I'm sure I will when my two years at sea end with me in Rio de Janeiro, but the jiu-jitsu guys in Rio surf, so with my perhaps perverted logic I'm sure I can get the same restorative benefits by playing some jiu-jitsu.
I learned I can still beat white belts, and that I'm still not a dick because after using my arm-drag fan sweep at will a few times, I taught my partner how to do it and had him try it on me.
But more importantly, I learned that 280 pound purple-belt Big Richie can still beat me just as effortlessly. Probably sometime I'll compete in another tournament, but regardless I still train as if I'm getting ready for a competition which means while I don't do anything completely idiotic, I don't immediately tap out when I'm caught in a submission. So even after Big Richie beat my attempt to posture out of his triangle choke, I tried to hang on. If you've been here as many times as I have, you can be completely calm while you're being strangled. I felt the familiar dizziness come back and watched my peripheral vision blacken in ever tightening circles as I stared down the tunnel.
And there you remember you don't have problems. You only have a problem. While it's not today, you're going to die.
You can take the demons out for a 64 ounce dumb-fucker gulp and listen to their soothing lies about how being spherical is entirely normal, or you can meet them on your own ground where you might, possibly, be a hero just for one day.
Which explains why, when the guy pulled next to me at 287 and 45th in Loveland and said, "dude, I dream of that mustache," I replied, "no problem, it just takes a year." True I have an innate talent for not shaving, but even so a year is not bad. Sometimes I wish everything were that easy, but then I couldn't rightfully expect any awesomeness to develop, and I'd have to trade my Musashi for coca-cola and reality TV.
And sometimes too I read my Herman Melville. Specifically the part about it being a cold rainy November of the soul and needing to go whaling.
And while I'd like to go whaling, or at least go back to sea for a year or two, that's impractical, so I try to figure things out.
Just about when E.W. linked the CrossFit Lisbeth blog about training alone on my Facebook page, I knew it was time to ditch my partners and squat again. Over time you learn that Dave Tate is right: there are only three ways a lift can go wrong; physiological, technical, or mental. I kept putting weight on the bar until I was sure my problem is entirely mental.
I'm going to continue my solitary dialog with my demons. Sorry, the public is not invited.
I could live with most of the demons, but that motherfucker who asks why I get out of bed and even try doing anything is killing me.
And that's why I had to go surfing. I don't surf, although I'm sure I will when my two years at sea end with me in Rio de Janeiro, but the jiu-jitsu guys in Rio surf, so with my perhaps perverted logic I'm sure I can get the same restorative benefits by playing some jiu-jitsu.
I learned I can still beat white belts, and that I'm still not a dick because after using my arm-drag fan sweep at will a few times, I taught my partner how to do it and had him try it on me.
But more importantly, I learned that 280 pound purple-belt Big Richie can still beat me just as effortlessly. Probably sometime I'll compete in another tournament, but regardless I still train as if I'm getting ready for a competition which means while I don't do anything completely idiotic, I don't immediately tap out when I'm caught in a submission. So even after Big Richie beat my attempt to posture out of his triangle choke, I tried to hang on. If you've been here as many times as I have, you can be completely calm while you're being strangled. I felt the familiar dizziness come back and watched my peripheral vision blacken in ever tightening circles as I stared down the tunnel.
And there you remember you don't have problems. You only have a problem. While it's not today, you're going to die.
You can take the demons out for a 64 ounce dumb-fucker gulp and listen to their soothing lies about how being spherical is entirely normal, or you can meet them on your own ground where you might, possibly, be a hero just for one day.
Friday, June 10, 2011
Things I Hate, Two Rules and an Afterthought
Yes, there are things I hate:
lifting at 6:30 am,
the creatine-coffee cocktail,
the cattle prod to the hips sensation,
the cattle prod to the low back sensation; that one is just scary,
the sensation of pvc on IT band, although in a masochistic way I like this one,
the feeling that my right wrist is going to break,
being in knee wraps one second too long,
drinking enough water,
going to bed on time,
eating enough when it gets hot, which to me is now already,
eating one pound of Greek yogurt after lifting,
eating the quarter pound of Greek yogurt from my mustache; that's 11 grams of protein,
eating half a doughnut when I want two and know that even though this is a rare abuse, I should stop at a quarter doughnut,
walking up a flight of stairs and feeling like a normal person does halfway through 100 overhead squats at 75 pounds,
eating two cans of Spam because I blew my cooking and I still need protein,
getting advice from the guy who took his squat from 100 to 150 pounds; that's great man, I stopped being able to drive up my squat by walking to the mailbox a few years ago. Could you maybe experience the intermediate grind for a year or more and then maybe actually do a pull-up before you help me out?
people who don't understand lifts are performed on a platform in front of three judges,
and so on.
What I hate more than anything is never having turned around and seen three white lights on a 2.5 x body weight squat.
Yet.
And so here I am.
Rule #1: if you're not training with me, don't talk to me.
Exception to rule #1: look at the barbell. If you're comfortable with that much weight being dropped on your face, I'm comfortable with your chatter.
Rule #2: I touch the barbell, I lift the barbell. That's my job. It's the barbell's job to prove me wrong if it can. That is the real difference between me and most other people. They tell tell the barbell why they can't lift it, and I demand the barbell tell me why I can't lift it.
Afterthought: don't take me as arrogant. Part of the job of the intermediate is to know who the experts are. I know. Those guys cost a lot, more than I do, and when I can find a way, I'll be off to see them.
lifting at 6:30 am,
the creatine-coffee cocktail,
the cattle prod to the hips sensation,
the cattle prod to the low back sensation; that one is just scary,
the sensation of pvc on IT band, although in a masochistic way I like this one,
the feeling that my right wrist is going to break,
being in knee wraps one second too long,
drinking enough water,
going to bed on time,
eating enough when it gets hot, which to me is now already,
eating one pound of Greek yogurt after lifting,
eating the quarter pound of Greek yogurt from my mustache; that's 11 grams of protein,
eating half a doughnut when I want two and know that even though this is a rare abuse, I should stop at a quarter doughnut,
walking up a flight of stairs and feeling like a normal person does halfway through 100 overhead squats at 75 pounds,
eating two cans of Spam because I blew my cooking and I still need protein,
getting advice from the guy who took his squat from 100 to 150 pounds; that's great man, I stopped being able to drive up my squat by walking to the mailbox a few years ago. Could you maybe experience the intermediate grind for a year or more and then maybe actually do a pull-up before you help me out?
people who don't understand lifts are performed on a platform in front of three judges,
and so on.
What I hate more than anything is never having turned around and seen three white lights on a 2.5 x body weight squat.
Yet.
And so here I am.
Rule #1: if you're not training with me, don't talk to me.
Exception to rule #1: look at the barbell. If you're comfortable with that much weight being dropped on your face, I'm comfortable with your chatter.
Rule #2: I touch the barbell, I lift the barbell. That's my job. It's the barbell's job to prove me wrong if it can. That is the real difference between me and most other people. They tell tell the barbell why they can't lift it, and I demand the barbell tell me why I can't lift it.
Afterthought: don't take me as arrogant. Part of the job of the intermediate is to know who the experts are. I know. Those guys cost a lot, more than I do, and when I can find a way, I'll be off to see them.
Thursday, June 9, 2011
Beginners
I've been thinking it was time for a blog, and I've had plenty on my mind lately. Unfortunately it's mostly been angry stuff dealing mainly with people who can't differentiate between running their mouths incessantly and actually doing something. I have to admit though, that as yet I have nothing constructive to say, so perhaps I can be an example of shutting up and trying something, indeed anything.
I used to think that loyalty was my only character flaw; if I like you, that's it, we're down for life. I realize now that I'm also too honest. When someone completely fails to perform a clean, for example, and asks me if I'm laughing at them, I have to admit I am.
Here's the thing: you're a beginner, I see the universal beginner in you, and believe me, I remember when I was a beginner. And sometimes when I'm lucky I get to be a beginner still.
I've been learning to scull which in theory should be almost the same as rowing an erg, but in practice at times feels hopeless to me. It's the same legs, back, arms three part movement as erging but with a few minor tweaks that are more than enough to render me incompetent. If coach wants me to do something with my hands, I forget I have a back and legs. If she wants me to do something with my back, I forget I have arms and legs, and of course if she wants me to do something with my legs I forget I have back and arms.
Almost exactly the same way you can do all the parts of a clean progression and still fail miserably to clean.
But this should be fun, guys. You'll never make faster progress than when you first start, and as long as you're not injuring yourself, you're doing your body good. Consider if you will, and you must because this is after all my blog, the squat. I've put a good part of my body, mind, and soul into learning the squat for close to two years now. I am good, but I'm far from perfect and still working on my technique. If I work with you one hour, I'll probably laugh at you, but you will already have 85% of my technique and be able to squat safely and effectively. If you want to work with me a second hour, you'll have 95% of what I know and probably add an instant 20-50 pounds to your squat. There's really no point in doing a third hour. You might as well sign up for two years.
You will have enjoyed your two hours as a beginner.
I'll love you.
I'm loyal.
I used to think that loyalty was my only character flaw; if I like you, that's it, we're down for life. I realize now that I'm also too honest. When someone completely fails to perform a clean, for example, and asks me if I'm laughing at them, I have to admit I am.
Here's the thing: you're a beginner, I see the universal beginner in you, and believe me, I remember when I was a beginner. And sometimes when I'm lucky I get to be a beginner still.
I've been learning to scull which in theory should be almost the same as rowing an erg, but in practice at times feels hopeless to me. It's the same legs, back, arms three part movement as erging but with a few minor tweaks that are more than enough to render me incompetent. If coach wants me to do something with my hands, I forget I have a back and legs. If she wants me to do something with my back, I forget I have arms and legs, and of course if she wants me to do something with my legs I forget I have back and arms.
Almost exactly the same way you can do all the parts of a clean progression and still fail miserably to clean.
But this should be fun, guys. You'll never make faster progress than when you first start, and as long as you're not injuring yourself, you're doing your body good. Consider if you will, and you must because this is after all my blog, the squat. I've put a good part of my body, mind, and soul into learning the squat for close to two years now. I am good, but I'm far from perfect and still working on my technique. If I work with you one hour, I'll probably laugh at you, but you will already have 85% of my technique and be able to squat safely and effectively. If you want to work with me a second hour, you'll have 95% of what I know and probably add an instant 20-50 pounds to your squat. There's really no point in doing a third hour. You might as well sign up for two years.
You will have enjoyed your two hours as a beginner.
I'll love you.
I'm loyal.
Friday, May 20, 2011
267,082 Meters
From the C2 online log:
James Drebenstedt's Logbook
267,082m
Sorry, I was going to stop cleanly at a quarter million meters, but then I got the idea to row a half-marathon and I overshot by seventeen thousand. But that's not such a horrible margin of error for an advanced beginner.
I've done each of these meters since last October when I decided to get good at indoor rowing, and in the process I've learned a few things.
I've learned, for instance, that: the damper goes on 7; optimal cruising rate is 27 strokes per minute; I can keep decent form and generate power at 41 strokes per minute for 30 seconds or so; most of a 500 meter piece will be rowed in the mid - thirties per minute range; the last 150 meters of anything will be rowed at 22 strokes per minute which is where my power output is highest and it's nearly lethal to sustain that for 150 meters; nothing, absolutely nothing, hurts as bad as a maximal effort 500 meter sprint, and, yes, there really is probably something wrong with me for making this my chosen art form; and so on.
And all this of course means nothing unless you happen to be 5'10", weigh 190 - though claiming 181, can make an honest claim to be an anaerobic bad ass yet have to concede you're an aerobic wimp, and so on.
You'll have to row your own quarter million meters if you want to be an advanced beginner like me.
Probably and properly the subject here should be power lifting, but it would take me a long time to figure out how many tons I've lifted in the last half year or so, and I'm sure it wouldn't be 250,000 which sounds so good.
So here's what I propose - figure out what you want to be better at, figure out how to get better, and start doing it. I have to warn you that you'll have to make concessions to get good at something, and you can likely only get good at one thing though I admit I am attempting to take on two simultaneously.
Two years ago I was heavily into CrossFit and running 25 or so miles a week also. I weighed 167 pounds, and I have never felt better physically in my life. It was a huge concession for me to push my body weight up while becoming slower and feeling worse physically. On the other hand, I feel great psychologically; while I can't run away from as many threats as I used to, I'm capable of picking up, twisting, and casting aside more threats. I just had to make a decision which way I wanted it and then pursue my course of action relentlessly.
More things I've learned in 18 months of heavy lifting, and half a year of indoor rowing:
you might have to do your shit at 6:30am, or some equally inconvenient time
no one will ever quite understand why you do your shit
there will always be a few people who are so into their own awesome shit, that they will recognize your drive and help you out even though they won't quite understand you
yes, they will even do this at 6:30am
grow the mustache, the people who like you like you for who you are, and anyway, they don't notice the mustache until they first see the Greek yogurt smeared across your hoodie and the chalk on your sweats
chalk is good, ammonia is better
coffee and creatine ethyl-ester don't mix - it doesn't matter; it's 6:30 am, you don't know what you're ingesting, and you're on your way to being an awesome advanced beginner which is a fuck of a lot better than hanging out with your critics in continued mediocrity.
James Drebenstedt's Logbook
267,082m
Sorry, I was going to stop cleanly at a quarter million meters, but then I got the idea to row a half-marathon and I overshot by seventeen thousand. But that's not such a horrible margin of error for an advanced beginner.
I've done each of these meters since last October when I decided to get good at indoor rowing, and in the process I've learned a few things.
I've learned, for instance, that: the damper goes on 7; optimal cruising rate is 27 strokes per minute; I can keep decent form and generate power at 41 strokes per minute for 30 seconds or so; most of a 500 meter piece will be rowed in the mid - thirties per minute range; the last 150 meters of anything will be rowed at 22 strokes per minute which is where my power output is highest and it's nearly lethal to sustain that for 150 meters; nothing, absolutely nothing, hurts as bad as a maximal effort 500 meter sprint, and, yes, there really is probably something wrong with me for making this my chosen art form; and so on.
And all this of course means nothing unless you happen to be 5'10", weigh 190 - though claiming 181, can make an honest claim to be an anaerobic bad ass yet have to concede you're an aerobic wimp, and so on.
You'll have to row your own quarter million meters if you want to be an advanced beginner like me.
Probably and properly the subject here should be power lifting, but it would take me a long time to figure out how many tons I've lifted in the last half year or so, and I'm sure it wouldn't be 250,000 which sounds so good.
So here's what I propose - figure out what you want to be better at, figure out how to get better, and start doing it. I have to warn you that you'll have to make concessions to get good at something, and you can likely only get good at one thing though I admit I am attempting to take on two simultaneously.
Two years ago I was heavily into CrossFit and running 25 or so miles a week also. I weighed 167 pounds, and I have never felt better physically in my life. It was a huge concession for me to push my body weight up while becoming slower and feeling worse physically. On the other hand, I feel great psychologically; while I can't run away from as many threats as I used to, I'm capable of picking up, twisting, and casting aside more threats. I just had to make a decision which way I wanted it and then pursue my course of action relentlessly.
More things I've learned in 18 months of heavy lifting, and half a year of indoor rowing:
you might have to do your shit at 6:30am, or some equally inconvenient time
no one will ever quite understand why you do your shit
there will always be a few people who are so into their own awesome shit, that they will recognize your drive and help you out even though they won't quite understand you
yes, they will even do this at 6:30am
grow the mustache, the people who like you like you for who you are, and anyway, they don't notice the mustache until they first see the Greek yogurt smeared across your hoodie and the chalk on your sweats
chalk is good, ammonia is better
coffee and creatine ethyl-ester don't mix - it doesn't matter; it's 6:30 am, you don't know what you're ingesting, and you're on your way to being an awesome advanced beginner which is a fuck of a lot better than hanging out with your critics in continued mediocrity.
Friday, May 6, 2011
Caffeine, Music Periodization & Jim Wendler
And so after a month off coffee, I started working 60 or 70 hours a week, cracked, and got back on coffee. The first day I had coffee at work, I felt great physically, but I was trying to read and I noticed I had to re-read each paragraph numerous times before I could make sense of it. I'm also sleeping like shit again. Caffeine kills; I'll have to go through the painful process of quitting again.
My lifting is programmed all the way to August, but I'm starting to think already about how to train from August until November, and I'm strongly considering a conjugate periodization scheme, often incorrectly known as Westside or "Darkside" training. In short form this involves a maximal effort day (ME) when the lifter works up to a heavy triple or single, and a speed or dynamic effort day (DE) when the lifter will use loads around 50-60% of 1rm with an emphasis on maximizing bar speed.
Soon, I realize, I have to write a blog about my thoughts on mental intensity while lifting. Suffice it to say I never really lift at psycho intensity, or 10 on the volume scale, even though many people think I do. In truth I range from 6 to 9.5 depending on what I'm trying to do.
Because of my need to vary mental intensity, I constantly search for the perfect mood music for lifting. Crossfit is a musical no-brainer; you put on the NYC hardcore and 1,2,3 go, but lifting often requires slower, heavier music.
So yesterday I was at work, over-caffeinated and with an Internet connected pc, so I decided to get on EliteFTS Q&A and ask the great Jim Wendler about music:
"...would it be a good idea to try a ME music day with the emphasis on
heavy shit and then a DE music day with an emphasis on speed?"
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
To which Mr. Wendler replied:
James,
This is a good idea, great idea, actually.
ME Music - Burning Witch, Sleep, Buried at Sea, etc.
DE Music - Infest, Brutal Truth, Kill the Client, Maruta, etc.
I think you are onto something here. Just have to define what is ME and
what is DE.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Lessons learned:
1) stay off the coffee
2) work is better if you can hang out on EliteFTS Q&A
3) Jim Wendler thinks I'm on to something, which is huge since he's been around long enough to see everything
4) If you don't like what I have playing on Pandora, tough shit. Not only am I maximizing your chances for success, I have made the effort to consult with world class experts on your behalf.
My lifting is programmed all the way to August, but I'm starting to think already about how to train from August until November, and I'm strongly considering a conjugate periodization scheme, often incorrectly known as Westside or "Darkside" training. In short form this involves a maximal effort day (ME) when the lifter works up to a heavy triple or single, and a speed or dynamic effort day (DE) when the lifter will use loads around 50-60% of 1rm with an emphasis on maximizing bar speed.
Soon, I realize, I have to write a blog about my thoughts on mental intensity while lifting. Suffice it to say I never really lift at psycho intensity, or 10 on the volume scale, even though many people think I do. In truth I range from 6 to 9.5 depending on what I'm trying to do.
Because of my need to vary mental intensity, I constantly search for the perfect mood music for lifting. Crossfit is a musical no-brainer; you put on the NYC hardcore and 1,2,3 go, but lifting often requires slower, heavier music.
So yesterday I was at work, over-caffeinated and with an Internet connected pc, so I decided to get on EliteFTS Q&A and ask the great Jim Wendler about music:
"...would it be a good idea to try a ME music day with the emphasis on
heavy shit and then a DE music day with an emphasis on speed?"
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
To which Mr. Wendler replied:
James,
This is a good idea, great idea, actually.
ME Music - Burning Witch, Sleep, Buried at Sea, etc.
DE Music - Infest, Brutal Truth, Kill the Client, Maruta, etc.
I think you are onto something here. Just have to define what is ME and
what is DE.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Lessons learned:
1) stay off the coffee
2) work is better if you can hang out on EliteFTS Q&A
3) Jim Wendler thinks I'm on to something, which is huge since he's been around long enough to see everything
4) If you don't like what I have playing on Pandora, tough shit. Not only am I maximizing your chances for success, I have made the effort to consult with world class experts on your behalf.
Monday, April 25, 2011
2011 Reebok CrossFit Games
I had waffled for months on the question of whether or not I would compete in the 2011 Games Regionals. I've become a dedicated power lifter, and all my training for months has been directed towards the Colorado Regionals, November 12th, 2011. I try to do enough CrossFit to stay within 10 or so pounds of my competition weight of 181, but I don't focus on killing the work out and becoming a better CrossFitter. True, I'm an avid indoor rower, so my conditioning can never be truly horrible, but I've found - as the experts predict - training tends to force specific adaptations; while I've become formidable at rowing 500 meters and not completely hopeless at 2,000 meters, I haven't become any better at, say, wall ball shots or thrusters.
But hey, some of our athletes are trying the games, and so I'm in. That's how we roll.
Work Out 1:
AMRAP 10
30 Double Unders / 15 Power Snatches 75 pounds
What I thought going in: fuck
My plan: grind away
My Result: 122 repetitions
What I though going out: fuck, I am really bad at double unders
Work Out 2:
AMRAP 15
9 Dead Lifts - I forgot the weight, maybe 165 or so /12 Push-Ups / 15 Box Jumps @24"
What I thought going in: fuck, but not as bad as WOD 1 fuck
My plan: set a pace and sustain it, the tortoise
My Result: 251 repetitions
What I though going out: I should probably do more CrossFit
Work Out 3:
AMRAP 5
Squat Clean & Jerk 165 pounds
What I thought going in: fuck, yeah! Power endurance is my thing, especially under 10 minutes
My plan: kill, kill, kill
My Result: 36
What I though going out: I probably do enough CrossFit
Work Out 4:
AMRAP 10
60 Face-the-Bar Burpees / 30 Overhead Squats @ 120 / 10 Muscle-Ups
What I thought going in: This is a joke, right?
My plan: Endure the burpees, finish the overhead squats with 20 seconds left, run to the rings - slowly - and flatly insist I could have done a muscle-up
My Result: 74 repetitions; I didn't finish the squats
What I though going out: I hate burpees. 120 pounds should not be a heavy overhead squat, but it was post-burpee
Work Out 5:
AMRAP 20
5 Power Cleans @145 / 10 Toes-to-Bar / 15 Wall Ball Shots 20# to 10'
What I thought going in: what the fuck? 20 minutes? I signed up for CrossFit games, not an ultra-marathon
My plan: Keep moving, under no circumstances look at the clock
My Result: 191 Repetitions
What I though going out: what the fuck? 20 minutes? No more ultra-endurance events for me
Work Out 6:
AMRAP 5
3 Thrusters @ 95# / 3 Pull-Ups
then
6/6
9/9
12/12
15/15
18/18 (You get it, right?)
What I thought going in: This should be the best one since 3, and if not it's 7 minutes and the last one, so fuck it
My Plan: kill, kill, kill
My Result: 75 repetitions
What I thought going out: that was fun in a met-conny way (I'll do this one again maybe once or twice.)
Like Olympic lifting coach Max Mormont says, nobody is competitive until they lose.
I'm doing this again next year. Top 100 should suffice; I'm a power lifter, kids.
But hey, some of our athletes are trying the games, and so I'm in. That's how we roll.
Work Out 1:
AMRAP 10
30 Double Unders / 15 Power Snatches 75 pounds
What I thought going in: fuck
My plan: grind away
My Result: 122 repetitions
What I though going out: fuck, I am really bad at double unders
Work Out 2:
AMRAP 15
9 Dead Lifts - I forgot the weight, maybe 165 or so /12 Push-Ups / 15 Box Jumps @24"
What I thought going in: fuck, but not as bad as WOD 1 fuck
My plan: set a pace and sustain it, the tortoise
My Result: 251 repetitions
What I though going out: I should probably do more CrossFit
Work Out 3:
AMRAP 5
Squat Clean & Jerk 165 pounds
What I thought going in: fuck, yeah! Power endurance is my thing, especially under 10 minutes
My plan: kill, kill, kill
My Result: 36
What I though going out: I probably do enough CrossFit
Work Out 4:
AMRAP 10
60 Face-the-Bar Burpees / 30 Overhead Squats @ 120 / 10 Muscle-Ups
What I thought going in: This is a joke, right?
My plan: Endure the burpees, finish the overhead squats with 20 seconds left, run to the rings - slowly - and flatly insist I could have done a muscle-up
My Result: 74 repetitions; I didn't finish the squats
What I though going out: I hate burpees. 120 pounds should not be a heavy overhead squat, but it was post-burpee
Work Out 5:
AMRAP 20
5 Power Cleans @145 / 10 Toes-to-Bar / 15 Wall Ball Shots 20# to 10'
What I thought going in: what the fuck? 20 minutes? I signed up for CrossFit games, not an ultra-marathon
My plan: Keep moving, under no circumstances look at the clock
My Result: 191 Repetitions
What I though going out: what the fuck? 20 minutes? No more ultra-endurance events for me
Work Out 6:
AMRAP 5
3 Thrusters @ 95# / 3 Pull-Ups
then
6/6
9/9
12/12
15/15
18/18 (You get it, right?)
What I thought going in: This should be the best one since 3, and if not it's 7 minutes and the last one, so fuck it
My Plan: kill, kill, kill
My Result: 75 repetitions
What I thought going out: that was fun in a met-conny way (I'll do this one again maybe once or twice.)
Like Olympic lifting coach Max Mormont says, nobody is competitive until they lose.
I'm doing this again next year. Top 100 should suffice; I'm a power lifter, kids.
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