Victory

Some new faces in CrossFit yesterday.  Along with the Demon FakeRack there were three dudes and about 9 ladies or varying CrossFit experience.  Two of the dudes I recognized, but the third was obviously a noob.  He looked like a hipster and kept his sliver dress watch on.  Stupid noobs always think they're so cool.

I got there kind of early so I could stretch my sore groin.  It's funny how I say that about every place I go.  Of course FakeRack was even earlier and launched right into her jumprope routine.  I faced a away from her to stretch.  I know your tricks, Demon Lady.

The warmup consisted of a jog around the gym, interspersed with some stretching routines like lunges, pivot squats, and frankenstines (kind of like goose stepping).  I was a little more winded than I should have been, but I chalked that up to having a salad for lunch instead of my usual plate of fries.

The exercise, entitled Tuesday Trouble, was explained as a "quick one".  I liked the sound of that.  It was sets of 21 - 15 - 9 of sumo deadlift pulls (wide stance and close grip and pulling the bar from the ground to your chest) and overhead squats.  After showing us the technique, HeMan instructed us to grab a bar and some weights.

"65 pounds for the girls, 95 pounds for the guys".

Good one, HeMan, I've fallen for that one before too.  I grabbed my 45 pound bar and my familiar 10 pounders.  You're not going to use my pride against me this time.

The Noob was smarter than I was as a first-timer.  He followed my lead and grabbed some 10 pounders as well.  I took my place toward the corner and, of course, FakeRack wanders my way as well.  Lucky for me, Noob inserts himself between us, asks me an inane question about the rep counts, and takes a lascivious glance at FakeRack and turns to me giving me one of those "eh? Check out that ass, dude" looks.  I just nodded.  Poor little bastard has no idea the humiliation in store for him.

HeMan starts yapping about something or other and I get the impression that he told us to start.  So I'm powering through my first 21 sumo deadlift pulls with so much focus that I didn't realize no one else was.  I place the bar down, as is my custom, and look around and HeMan is getting ready to start the clock.

Well fuck.  I'll be damned if I'm going to do it again.  I'm going to have to take my time though, as I don't want to be first to finish and then be assigned a time-killing exercise for over-performers.  Nooooooo problem there.

The clock starts and I go right to my overhead squat set.  While I'm rocking that out I think I hear HeMan say something about "checking on the guys with 10 pounders".

Shit.  I'm going to get busted underselling my manliness.

Nothing happens for awhile as I continue my workout.  For once I keep an accurate count and hold myself accountable to the goal prescribed (well, other than the weight).  As I look over between sets I realize that Noob has been told to take his weights off and work with just the bar, while FakeRack on the other side of him is chalking up her hands and powering through her sets with little difficulty.  The fact that I'm witnessing someone else get emasculated publicly is very pleasing to me.  Just to emphasize this point I finish my last set of overhead squats and throw my weights down with a satisfied, manly grunt.  I suppress the urge to launch into my flexing routine, as in the back of my head I'm aware that my own public emasculation is probably far from over.  I could see the shame on his face, and I know that feel.

The consequence for such a short workout was a list of finisher options that were more involved than the usual "feebly flap around trying to do a billion sit ups while FakeRack embarrasses you by doing them with ease" routine.  The options were:

1500 meters on the rowing machine
100 medicine ball throws
50 ring dips
200 double unders
20 muscle ups

Having been told by Shellone that muscle ups are merely pulling yourself up on a parallel bar like you're getting out of a pool I immediately decide that's my choice.  Like an idiot, I ask HeMan to confirm that's how it's done.  Oh no, muscle ups involve getting on the rings and performing some act of spectacular balance and strength.  He added, with more than a hint of condescension "it's pretty advanced".

Ring dips it is.

Those little dudes in the Olympics make these things look sooooo easy.  Unfortunately for me, I have tiny little girly wrists and the upper body strength of a 12 year old.  I have neither the balance nor the strength to do more than one ring dip at a time.  HeMan sends me to the stationary bars to make it easier.  THERE'S that familiar humiliation.

Even on the "easier" bars I can only do 2 or three dips at a time.  Somewhat defeated, I take my time and slowly make my way toward 50.

The stationary bars are two, twelve-foot bars that are parallel to one another.  I worked on one end and an old dude struggled just as mightily on the other.  Suddenly, as though to add to my despair, FakeRack decides to mount up in between us and embarrass us simultaneously.

Why does she taunt me so?  She's facing away from me, and I try not to look.  I really do.  Foul temptress.

What's this?  She can't do it?  She attempts a few times but really only gets one dip in.  Her tears of failure taste so very sweet to me.  Overcome with joy, I offer her one of those girly straps to help her.  She declines with a pretentious air.

Not so cool now, are you Little Miss Sit up Machine?

I wish I could finish my dips while looking into her eyes with a grin of superiority, but she saunters off to the rowing machine.

I finish my workout with a smile.  I am a man.  I am victorious.