Red Shoes.: Oh My, Michael
My darling sister just posted an account of her latest experiences with Crossfit. I thought I would post my side of the story.
She calls me today to chat and set up plans for Thanksgiving. While we're talking, it comes up that neither of us did yesterday's workout. Since we didn't have plans, either, it worked out well to make up the workout together.
I love the gym Joanne goes to. It's got everything you need (except a good solid place to do kipping pullups), and they don't mind grunting, sweating, or chalk.
So we drive on over. I go through her journal, and am honestly impressed at her commitment. I remember what starting Crossfit was like, and I remember how sore I was from the brutality I was beginning to subject myself to. I also remember coming from a much fitter background than Joanne probably did, so I can't really imagine what it must feel like to be doing this sort of thing for the first time. Color me impressed.
We do the warmup. Her pushups are coming along nicely. I'm amazed that she's already progressed to the point where she's not having to assist from her knees any more. She's definitely taking the right approach- instead of banging out halfhearted reps with an arched back, she's forcing herself to do them as well as possible. Form wasn't bad at all. Her arms are definitely strong enough- it's just the rest of her that's getting used to doing this sort of thing. Great progress in a short amount of time.
After that, we do the workout. She posted the details on her blog (link at the top of this post) so I won't repeat.
She gave a pretty accurate description of how it went, including teasing me when she was ahead. It really made a difference. Just knowing the person next to you knows what you're supposed to be doing and how hard you should be working is great motivation. She paced herself a little slower than she needed to - I could tell she was done with the runs before I was, but who was I to begrudge her a little extra breathing time between exercises? I think she could easily take 3 minutes off her total next time she does this one. I think I could easily make myself puke trying to do that.
My runs went well to begin with, then sort of fell apart. I'm not blaming the back extensions or the situps, but rather my habit of not counting an hour of soccer or flag football at lunch as a workout (it counts as a rest day, right?) The fatigue built up from a couple of weeks of this is getting to me. I should be able to slow down soon and just do Crossfit. that, coupled with better sleep habits should get me back to setting PR's in no time.
I did the workout in about 24:46, about a minute faster than last time but still a minute off my PR set in March. My first lap was 30 seconds faster than I've ever managed before, but after that the fatigue set in pretty hard and the running got harder and harder. I may have set too fast a pace early on.
Better luck next time. No, better conditioning.
Oh, and one more thing: On the way to the gym, we'd halfheartedly discussed doubling up and doing today's workout after Michael. After I'd finished and was panting like a fish that had just run the 100 yard dash, I rolled over and asked "Okay, so, do you want to do the Filthy 50 now?"
She wisely declined.
Sunday, November 18, 2007
Tuesday, November 06, 2007
What hell sounds like...
Or: Lifehacking the baby.
I'm babysitting tonight. Okay, taking care of my own kid, which I'm told doesn't get called babysitting but when he's six months old and has a clear preference for mama mit der big boobies, well, you get the picture. You feel a little "off the critical path" to use some work parlance. I'm only on his radar because I provide unique kinesthetic experiences (throwing him up into the air until he giggles, upchucks, or both) and can make sounds like an asthmatic Donald Duck. Apart from that, I'm a nonentity unless he's in the 20 minutes a day when he's playful and not hungry or overly tired.
Anyway, I'm sitting here at my computer with Owen on my knee, and I remember that I have Audacity on my computer. Hmm. Computer. Baby. Microphone. Audio editing software...
Hmm.
He's making the hesitant chuckles like a cry isn't far away, so I wonder what it would be like to play his sounds back to him and see what he does. I mean, do you end up with a puzzled look, or the baby equivalent of guitar feedback, or what? I'm actually hoping to get something ridiculously cute and momentous, like him saying "Daddy Rocks" or something, but all he's giving me are pre-cry chuckles. But you have to go with what you've got. That's what art is all about. I mean, we didn't give up when the Germans bombed Pearl Harbor. Van Gogh didn't give up when he lost an ear painting the Sistine Chapel ceiling, and Beethoven sure as hell didn't give up when Syphilis made him deaf. Who's with me?
So I record for a bit. Then hit record again, and I realize that Audacity actually plays back what you just recorded. Get this: as you record the next track. Immediate feedback. Then when you do it again, it plays both of the pre-recorded tracks. Sweet! Multiple levels of feedback.
The pre-cry chuckling didn't really amount to much. It just sounds like a whole bunch of babies winding up to start crying. Big whoop. I hear that all the time at work. Sorry guys. Couldn't resist.
Anyway, then he did actually start crying. So I recorded it. Then did it again, and the crying set him off even worse. I only had the heart to do it three more times*. I ended up with a pretty good mix, and I'm fairly certain that this is what hell sounds like:
hell.
*Four would have been tantamount to waterboarding, and I don't have the legal resources the president does to redefine that sort of thing as being legal even though we used to sentence people to hard time for doing it to our guys. Really, it was different, coz, they were like, on their soil when they did it, but we were like in Guantanamo, which is next to Cuba, and worse things would have happened in Cuba if we hadn't been there. Yeah, that's the ticket. If our guys hadn't been there defending democracy from people who had been trained by Al Jazeera (a known terrorist organization) to use cameras (which are just as dangerous as guns in the wrong hands!) by waterboarding them, God knows what Castro could have been up to on that very same soil! Imagine the depravity we prevented just by building our detention facility there. So the world should thank us, because We're Better Than The Bad Guys, Really We Are.
Plus, my wife is a much more hostile adversary than Congress, particularly where Baby Safety Security and Growing Up Without Any Trauma Whatsoever is concerned. Still, my goose is cooked if she ever reads this blog. Hi, honey! I didn't really do anything to make him cry. He just did it by himself. All I did was record it instead of trying to make him stop, which would have been futile anyway. So, er... yeah, I'm really Not That Bad At Childrearing When Compared to Some People**
** Cuba. The regime-y part, not the guys who come here and start kick-ass restaurants with smoking hot waitresses.
Ever notice that? We call other governments Regimes. Ours is an Administration. It sounds so much more official that way. If only we were as precise in our language as we are at ordering our Starbucks (that's a *HALF* Caff Mochafucoccino I ordered there Sparky), then we'd probably understand the world better.
I'm babysitting tonight. Okay, taking care of my own kid, which I'm told doesn't get called babysitting but when he's six months old and has a clear preference for mama mit der big boobies, well, you get the picture. You feel a little "off the critical path" to use some work parlance. I'm only on his radar because I provide unique kinesthetic experiences (throwing him up into the air until he giggles, upchucks, or both) and can make sounds like an asthmatic Donald Duck. Apart from that, I'm a nonentity unless he's in the 20 minutes a day when he's playful and not hungry or overly tired.
Anyway, I'm sitting here at my computer with Owen on my knee, and I remember that I have Audacity on my computer. Hmm. Computer. Baby. Microphone. Audio editing software...
Hmm.
He's making the hesitant chuckles like a cry isn't far away, so I wonder what it would be like to play his sounds back to him and see what he does. I mean, do you end up with a puzzled look, or the baby equivalent of guitar feedback, or what? I'm actually hoping to get something ridiculously cute and momentous, like him saying "Daddy Rocks" or something, but all he's giving me are pre-cry chuckles. But you have to go with what you've got. That's what art is all about. I mean, we didn't give up when the Germans bombed Pearl Harbor. Van Gogh didn't give up when he lost an ear painting the Sistine Chapel ceiling, and Beethoven sure as hell didn't give up when Syphilis made him deaf. Who's with me?
So I record for a bit. Then hit record again, and I realize that Audacity actually plays back what you just recorded. Get this: as you record the next track. Immediate feedback. Then when you do it again, it plays both of the pre-recorded tracks. Sweet! Multiple levels of feedback.
The pre-cry chuckling didn't really amount to much. It just sounds like a whole bunch of babies winding up to start crying. Big whoop. I hear that all the time at work. Sorry guys. Couldn't resist.
Anyway, then he did actually start crying. So I recorded it. Then did it again, and the crying set him off even worse. I only had the heart to do it three more times*. I ended up with a pretty good mix, and I'm fairly certain that this is what hell sounds like:
hell.
*Four would have been tantamount to waterboarding, and I don't have the legal resources the president does to redefine that sort of thing as being legal even though we used to sentence people to hard time for doing it to our guys. Really, it was different, coz, they were like, on their soil when they did it, but we were like in Guantanamo, which is next to Cuba, and worse things would have happened in Cuba if we hadn't been there. Yeah, that's the ticket. If our guys hadn't been there defending democracy from people who had been trained by Al Jazeera (a known terrorist organization) to use cameras (which are just as dangerous as guns in the wrong hands!) by waterboarding them, God knows what Castro could have been up to on that very same soil! Imagine the depravity we prevented just by building our detention facility there. So the world should thank us, because We're Better Than The Bad Guys, Really We Are.
Plus, my wife is a much more hostile adversary than Congress, particularly where Baby Safety Security and Growing Up Without Any Trauma Whatsoever is concerned. Still, my goose is cooked if she ever reads this blog. Hi, honey! I didn't really do anything to make him cry. He just did it by himself. All I did was record it instead of trying to make him stop, which would have been futile anyway. So, er... yeah, I'm really Not That Bad At Childrearing When Compared to Some People**
** Cuba. The regime-y part, not the guys who come here and start kick-ass restaurants with smoking hot waitresses.
Ever notice that? We call other governments Regimes. Ours is an Administration. It sounds so much more official that way. If only we were as precise in our language as we are at ordering our Starbucks (that's a *HALF* Caff Mochafucoccino I ordered there Sparky), then we'd probably understand the world better.
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