Friday Night Lights, Part Deux

Or as the Hubster likes to say, "Part Duh."

Which, given how things went, might be more appropriate.

After my thrilling clean and jerk PR at Friday Night Lights, Part One I was both excited and nervous to see what the WOD would be for Part Two (officially known as Granite Games Online Qualifier 14.2). Excited because 14.1 had been so much fun; nervous because I knew I had dodged a bullet with the first WOD in that it hadn't contained any moves I couldn't do--but I also knew that there were plenty of those moves out there, and odds were pretty good that 14.2 would contain at least one movement that would  be akin to asking me to flap my arms really hard and fly.

So at 7:01 on Wednesday night, exactly one minute after 14.2 was posted (What?  I waited a full minute.  Patience may be a virtue but it's often not one of mine), I excused myself to the friend I was dining with, pulled out my phone, and looked up the WOD.  

And promptly swore.

Here is the WOD:
16 min cap to complete as many reps as possible

50 cal row

20 pull ups

40 back squats (135/95)

20 pull ups

30 front squats (115/75)

20 pull ups

20 over head squats (95/65)

20 pull ups

The second weight is the one the women use.

The swearing was for the pullups.

I can do pullups.  At least, I could before my shoulder injury.  Yup, I've done about five "strict" pullups.

Over the past four months.

I was pretty sure the 16 minute time cap would not be sufficient for 20 pullups.

So I really had only one choice: I needed to learn to do kipping pullups--in 48 hours or less.

For those not into CrossFit, "kipping pullups" are: a) pullups in which you use a swing of your body to gain momentum to help you get over the bar; and b) one of the most-frequently-ripped-on aspects of CrossFit by those who don't do it.  I had avoided kipping pullups not because other people don't think they're "legitimate" pullups, but because I've heard that they're hard on your shoulders and I've had minor rotator cuff tears in both shoulders in the past five years.  No sense aggravating old injuries, so I've spent all my pullup energy doing "strict" (no kipping) pullups with big rubber bands for assistance.  And the wisdom of my avoidance of kipping was confirmed when I spent an overenthusiastic half-hour practicing toes-to-bar--which also necessitates a kip for most people--and thus incurred my current bicep tendon/shoulder injury.

But now, clearly, it was time to kip.  Or at least to try.  I've had some very good instruction in kipping (the SISU coaches know their stuff), but I've done just enough of it to know that it falls into the (large) category of "things I shall suck at," because it relies on precise timing and body control to translate the momentum from the swing into vertical progress.

"Precise timing" and "body control" are not physical gifts I happen to posses.

Still, I had no option but to try, so I figured I'd attempt a kip or two after the WOD on Thursday morning (by the way, summer has officially started for me, and getting up at 5 am to go to CrossFit is much more enjoyable than getting up at 5 am to go to work).  Unfortunately Thursday's WOD fell squarely into the "things I suck at" category--double unders and wall balls.  Actually I'm usually OK with wall balls but I was attempting the RX weight (14 pounds) for the first time, and it was a struggle. By the time I finished the WOD--ten minutes after the "time cap" expired, 12 minutes after the last other class participant finished (and it was his first official CrossFit class), and about 30 expletives after most decent people would have stopped cussing--I was not exactly in the mood to spend a lot of time futilely attempting to master yet another thing I sucked at.

To my surprise, though, when I tried my first kipping pullup--it worked.  Chest forward, chest back, chin over bar.  Hmm, what's so hard about that?

Just to be sure, I tried two more--and they were also successful.

Or so I thought.

(That right there is what we in the literary world call "foreshadowing."  Remember that.)

So.  On to the next aspect of 14.2 to freak about.  That would be the "40 back squats at 95 pounds."  Yes, I can do back squats at 95 pounds.  What I was pretty sure I can't do is get 95 pounds up over my head and then down into the back rack position.  Remember Friday Night Lights Part One? Yeah, I barely got the 95 overhead--lowering it onto my back with any semblance of control was looking like an impossibility, and a dangerous one at that.  I had visions of dropping the bar on my head, or on my neck, or possibly even both (have I mentioned that I have an overactive Disaster Gland?).

I figured that the only way I would be able to give full effort to getting the 95 pounds into place, without wimping out and bailing early because of fear of hurting myself, was to have a spotter.  So my first action upon arriving at Friday Night Lights Part Two (after confirming with a coach that I could have a spotter as long as he didn't help me get the bar into place) was to find someone willing to grab the bar for me before I dropped it on my head.  Fortunately BigStrongGuy said he'd be happy to do it...so bring on 14.2!

The first part of the WOD, the row, went fine.  I like rowing and I think I'm actually decent at it (for my age, anyway).  I don't like rowing for calories rather than distance because then I don't have a pace to focus on and to use to kick my butt back into gear when I start slacking, but it was still an easy start to the WOD for me.

Which did not, unfortunately, preclude my making many extremely unattractive "faces of effort."

This lovely expression is brought to you by the "sip and blow,"

a breathing technique I need to use to combat my 

vocal cord dysfunction when I exercise.  Good thing the picture is a bit fuzzy, huh?

So...on to the pullups!  I had an official judge, JudgeGirl, and an unofficial judge in BigStrongGuy, who was hovering in readiness for his spotting job pre-back squats.  After confirming that my judges were ready, I confidently approached the bar, 

jumped up and grabbed it, kipped,

I'm pretty sure there's a whole lot wrong with this "kip."

 pulled up, and dropped back to the ground.

And saw both my judges give me a headshake and a "no rep."

What the...?

So I tried again.  Twice.  And got two more sad headshakes and "no reps."

Turns out that, when you have poor body awareness, you should not depend on your own judgement as to whether or not your chin has cleared the bar. Apparently my "successful" kipping pullups on Thursday morning had actually been "no reps."

So I took a step back, regrouped, jumped up and grabbed the bar again and put everything I had into the kip--and this time got a nod from the judges.

And so it went for the next 12 minutes.  No rep, no rep, yes.  No rep, yes, no rep. There were a few occasions where my judges disagreed (apparently inter rater reliability is not high in judging pullups)--JudgeGirl would shake her head just as BigStrongGuy gave me the nod.

I chose to go with BigStrongGuy's opinion.

As the minutes ticked by and the completed pullups slowly increased, my technique deteriorated at high speed.  BigStrongGuy gave me some advice that got me back on track for a couple reps, and then I fell apart again.  I tried some advice given to me immediately pre-WOD by SuperStrongGirl, but was unable to execute that effectively either.  I'm pretty confident in stating that most of my WOD was a stunning visual display of The Many Ways Not To Kip.

There's the Knee Lift...

The Frog Kick...

And the "I'm Trying to Jump But There's Nothing Under My Feet."

By this time, my approach to the bar had segued from "confident" to "dejected."  

The completed reps were accumulating...but much more slowly than the time was expiring.

And then, about halfway through the 16 minutes, a new glitch appeared.  Mid-kip, I felt a sizeable chunk of flesh get ripped violently from my palm.  I'd seen other CrossFitter's hands post-pullup WOD's, but since I never kipped I had never experienced the sensation of one's well-chalked skin adhering to the rough-textured bar--while the rest of one's palm rotated.

Nice.

I completed the pullup, dropped to the ground, and inspected my palm--then ripped off the 1/2 inch chunk of skin that was dangling, flung it on the floor, and then jumped back up to try again. (OK, I might have sworn when I ripped off the skin.  Just a teeny bit).

And so the WOD continued.  Rep.  No rep.  Rip and fling skin.  No rep.  Rep.  At the end of the 16 minutes I had 16 completed pullups, at least 6 chunks of skin littering the ground near my pullup station, and the knowledge that, although I hadn't gotten very far, I had at least given it all my effort, all my strength...and at least a square inch of skin off of each palm.  I guess you can't ask for more than that, huh?

So then I picked all my bits of epidermal biohazard off the floor and then had someone take a picture of the palm carnage.

I know this is a shocking picture for those who know me well, 

but you need to know the truth about my CrossFitting:

Sometimes I wear pink.  A lot of pink.

And then I wandered off to sample protein shakes and watch the good CrossFitters complete their WOD's.  (I think the top woman that night got 211 reps, to my 66.)  Despite my less-than-stellar performance it was definitely a fun night, and I'm glad I did it, and I won't forget it for a long time.

My hands will see to that.