Last week, I blogged about my badass workout with Matt, in which I did sets of 21/15/9 of pull-ups and thrusters. It was brutal, it was taxing...and it left my arms hurting for three days. I haven't had DOMS (delayed-onset muscle soreness) like that in years.
Anyway, he had mentioned we'd do it every Tuesday for several weeks, to see how I improve, but when I showed up at his place yesterday, I figured my scratchy voice and overall tiredness from a cold that's been developing would make him decide to take it easy on me.
I figured wrong.
"Here's the thing," he started.
"Yeah, my time will be slow today because I have a cold, and that's okay."
"Exactly. We don't expect you to beat your previous time when you're not at one hundred percent."
"I know...but I still have to remind myself that it's okay."
Last week's time was eight minutes, twenty seconds--a pretty awesome time for someone performing the workout (called the Fran by CrossFitters) for the first time.
After a warm up of easy pull-ups and some body-weight squats, I got set and looked over at Matt. "Ready when you are!"
I think I sighed in resignation, but if Matt thinks I'm up for it, I'm going to go for it...and so, I was off.
Twenty-one pull-ups, even assisted, is no joke. My arms were feeling it, and my breath was coming hard and fast. But I powered through them and moved towards the barbell, stopping quickly to take a gulp of water.
"So dry," I gasped. My throat was burning as much as my arms.
The thrusters were harder. I had to stop and put the barbell down once or twice in that first set, to shake my arms out...but I finished those, too. On it went: a set of fifteen of each, then the final sets of nine. I felt like I was moving through the exercises a little faster, but I was taking frequent gulps of water, burning precious seconds. I didn't care.
With three thrusters to go, I faltered. "Come on, Meg, you've got this." I finished, then wearily set the barbell on the ground in front of me. Matt looked down at his phone, and grinned.
"Are you fucking kidding me?" I gasped--I could barely speak, my throat was so dry from breathing hard, and the cold.
"Nope!" This came with a big grin.
My voice was still a whisper. "I. Am. A. Badass," I gasped, staggering towards my water bottle.
Matt just laughed. "Yes! You are!!"
I pushed the barbell out of the way and flopped down on the floor, slowly drinking water and letting my breathing return to normal. My voice started to come back as I drank, and I hugged my legs to my chest and rocked side-to-side for a moment. Matt was at his computer, inputting my new time--a record set while I have a cold--and I heard him say softly as his fingers clicked on the keyboard, "That is great...that is really great."
Of course, one does sometimes pay for greatness. I had looked at Matt from my spot on the floor yesterday, grinning and saying something about how well I would sleep after this...and then I didn't. I got exactly three hours of sleep last night, and woke at midnight coughing on the phlegm that was sliding around my esophagus. I never did go back to sleep, and got up at 5:30 to shower and cry at the thought of going to work on so little sleep, and feeling so nasty.
But I did it. I had classes to rehearse with for Winter Celebration, and I will not let my kids down. I took off early, though, to get to an appointment at Kaiser, where I was told it's a sinus infection. I was given an antibiotic, and told to take some NyQuil tonight. Here's hoping I sleep like a log, because I have two very hectic days ahead before I get my two week break.
I'm also on a few days' hiatus from working out, so I'll have to reserve my badass for next week, when Matt is back from a long weekend trip he's taking and I'm back to feeling better. On the menu? The Fran, again.
I'm gonna knock it outta the ballpark.