You'll remember when I started this running nonsense. I never really thought it'd stick but here we are six years later and yesterday I ran three miles. On the dreadmill. I tell you that because if you've ever had the
pleasure misfortune to run on a treadmill it's fucking terrible. So, give me some damn credit and Yay, me, right?
Apparently running isn't enough anymore. Maybe because I'm not still 31 and these days my thighs cling to cellulite like a circus holds on to it's bearded lady. Maybe because I quite enjoy beer and I'm too stubborn to give it up.
I can't say for sure but on Jan 2, I'm starting a six week cross fit challenge complete with weigh in and a meal plan.
I know. It's like someone else is writing this.
Let's just say I'm drinking as I type because I already checked and beer is most certainly not on that plan. Sadists.
I've got like 10 days and I'm not fucking around till then.
What is wrong with me? I imagine my first day going something like Heathcoat's training on Major Payne.. One tubby tubby tubby, two chubby chubby chubby!
I'm gonna be honest, I'm fucking terrified. I don't do weights, I've never even had the urge to flip a tractor tire across a field, hell I can't even shove my mammoth of a couch across the living room. I'm gonna get my ass kicked and you can pretty much lay money that I'm gonna cry at some point. This, I know, yet I still shelled out a whack to make this happen to me.
I'll ask again, what is wrong with me?
I'm looking up crossfit workouts and I see Suhalia squats and many diabolical variations on lunges, push ups and pull ups.
Really, guys? As if push ups weren't brutal enough, you wanna make me me do it on my hands?
At least there will undoubtedly be some good blog fodder out of it.