I managed to get a full 8 hours' sleep, though not straight through. My six-year-old had to pee several times in the middle of the night, and his preferred mode of travel from bed to bathroom is to stomp/run down the hall as loudly as possible. By the time my alarm went off at 4:20, I felt like I hadn't slept a wink.
- Weighted Pistols (each leg: 2 sets of 5, 3 sets of 3)
This morning's session of pistols exposed how much I favor my right leg over my left -- and how much weaker my left leg has become as a result. I can crank out plenty of unassisted one-legged squats on my right leg all day long (okay, maybe not all day), but as soon as I switch to my left, I'm utterly useless. As soon as I squat down, I tip over.
Weirder still: As soon as I grab a kettlebell to do weighted pistols, I can do 'em just fine -- on either leg. And in fact, the heavier the bell I carry, the more stable I feel. Bizarre. (I'm sure that there's some law of physics that explains this, but I'm not feeling industrious enough to look into it right now.)
- 21 thrusters (95-pound barbell)
- 21 pull-ups
- 15 thrusters (95-pound barbell)
- 15 pull-ups
- 9 thrusters (95-pound barbell)
- 9 pull-ups
Holy crap, he's fast.
Result: 7:39. I'm getting (slightly) faster, but Fran isn't getting any easier. If anything, it hurt more than ever to get through this workout today -- by the time I was done, my legs and lungs were on fire. It's still a super-intense burst of brutal, explosive power -- power that I still need to develop.
I love you, Fran. But you need to start loving me back. And while you're at it, please stop punching me in the balls.