Bloody Good

I didn't know what to expect at the gym on Friday. Tim kept saying that I was going to "love" the workout, but I can no longer tell when he's being sarcastic. (Especially after he once promised a workout I "LOOOOOOVED" -- only to spring a 2K row on us.)

Still, love it or hate it, I knew I'd have a strong reaction to the WOD, so I showed up hoping for the best, but expecting the worst. Thankfully, it was indeed a good one:

"Mary" - As many rounds as possible in 20 minutes of:

• 5 handstand push-ups
• 10 pistols
• 15 pull-ups

All bodyweight stuff I genuinely love -- even if I still favor doing pistols on my right side over my left. I was so excited, in fact, that I completely overlooked the following pertinent details:

• There are a crapload of pull-ups in this workout.
• I hadn't been keeping up with my hand care.
• The last time we did "Mary," I entitled my post "Bloody Mary" for a reason.
• That reason? I ripped my hands open and bled all over the place.

Without bothering to tape up my hands, I jumped right in with gusto.

Now that I'm doing a one-legged kipping handstand pull-up, I wasn't getting fatigued on the wall, so I expected to do better than my last attempt. After flying through the first four rounds unbroken, I glanced at the clock and saw that only a little more than seven minutes had elapsed. I can complete 10 rounds, I told myself.

The pistols betrayed me first. After five or six rounds, I was losing steam, and my weaker left leg was buckling. To complete the workout as RXed, I'd have to do the majority of the one-legged squats on my right leg.

With a few minutes left in the workout, I still felt fresh on the handstand push-ups and pull-ups, but my sweaty hands were starting to snag on the bar. I chalked up before my ninth round of pull-ups -- but realized too late that I'd over-coated my hands. I felt the skin of my right palm rip. The skin on my ring finger followed. A few pull-ups later, I felt the wetness of blood on the bar. Distracted, I slowed my pace to a crawl.

Result: 10 rounds as RXed. I hit my goal (and PRed!), though I'm kicking myself for not taking better care of my hands.  Despite taking care not to kip wildly, I'd neglected to file down my calluses or to tape up to prevent rips. I need to be better about practicing what I preach.

Still: I love Mary. Bloody or not, I can't wait to meet her again.

[Previously: CrossFit Hand Care]

Monday's Workout: Shin vs. Barbell

This blog is quickly turning into a catalog of my injuries.

For a couple of months now, my body's been in a perpetual state of disrepair. Some of my injuries have been relatively minor (e.g., a bee sting on the bottom of my foot, a gash on the back of my calf, torn hands from Mary), while others have been more of a pain in the ass (e.g., an ankle sprain, a groin pull). Finally, after many slow and frustrating weeks on the mend, I started feeling pretty damned good again. I woke up last Monday with renewed energy, and had a blast tearing through Annie.

But just when I thought I was in the clear, my body decided to revolt once again. A day or two after last Wednesday's session of deadlifts, my lower back stiffened up. I figured the soreness would go away after a couple of days, but even now, the discomfort remains.

Given my decrepitude, I decided to take it easy today. The strength skill today was Turkish Get-Ups, and I chose to stick with the 1-pood kettlebell for all but the final set -- and even then, I went only a few pounds heavier.

And then Tim wrote today's metcon on the board:

"DT" -- 5 rounds for time of:

• 12 deadlifts (155lbs / 115lbs)
• 9 hang power cleans (155lbs / 115lbs)
• 6 push jerks (155lbs / 115lbs)

"Go lighter than normal," Tim instructed. "I don't want any dropped weights." At five a.m., he reminded the class, we need to be quiet as mice, or risk incurring the wrath of the neighbors.

Frankly, I was relieved to have an (additional) excuse to go light today. I'd hoped that my back would loosen up during warm-ups, but the soreness lingered. Ninety-five pounds sounded good to me.

As the workout began, I actually felt fine. I raced through the first round unbroken, and quickly moved on to the deadlifts again. The weight was light -- even numerous reps of power cleans weren't super-difficult at 95 pounds. But I started to flag midway through the workout, and had to put down the bar (quietly) several times for mid-set breathers.

And then, at the end of the fourth round, as I lowered the weight from overhead, I lost my grip on the barbell. To keep it from clanging on the floor, I instinctively stuck out my leg. That's right: MY LEG. TO CATCH A FALLING BARBELL.

Needless to say, the barbell won, and my shin lost. (Wanna see?)

After a brief visit to the Pain Cave in my head, I finished up the final round.

Result: 8:56.

At this rate, I swear I'm going to be in a full-body cast soon unless I invest in a full-body protective suit.

Snazzy!

Monday's Workout: Bloody Mary

As soon as I popped out of bed this morning, I tested my right groin and my left ankle. The groin felt pretty spiffy, all things considering. It was a little sore, but nothing a little stretching couldn't handle. The ankle, on the other hand, felt like crap. I still couldn't get up on the toes of my left foot, flex properly, or put much weight on it.

Yes, it's Labor Day in the U.S. Yes, I have the day off of work. Yes, I have a pulled groin and a sprained ankle. Yes, I still hauled my butt to the 5 a.m. class at CrossFit Palo Alto.

Why? Because I'm insane. But I'm not the only one. Five of us nutjobs showed up before dawn to get our WOD on. And it was a doozy:

"Mary" - As many rounds as possible in 20 minutes of:

• 5 handstand push-ups
• 10 pistols
• 15 pull-ups

I knew I wouldn't be able to do the pistols with my left foot. I've always been terrible at single-legged squats on my left leg -- and with a bum ankle, it was a no-go. But my right groin felt okay, so I decided to crank 'em out exclusively with my right leg. I knew I'd pay for this decision with a super-sore right butt cheek, but what's one more pain in the ass (literally)?

The Terminator and I set up next to each other, and when the clock started, we went head-to-head. That man robot is fast. Every time I pulled slightly ahead, he'd close the gap. I did my damnedest to stay a few reps ahead of him, but we traded leads a couple of times.

It wasn't until the seventh round that I noticed that the pull-up bar was slick with blood.

The skin surrounding the calluses on both my hands had torn off. I've torn my hands doing pull-ups before, but this is the first time I've ever noticed it in the middle of the workout. I was leaking DNA everywhere.

My right hand was particularly bloody, so when Tim handed me a paper towel, I used it to sop up some of the blood. I then wrapped it around the bar so I could get a better grip to finish my pull-ups. I was determined to finish nine full rounds, but in the end, I was one rep short.

The funny thing is that during the WOD, nothing hurt. Not my ankle (except the one time I came off the wall after a set of HSPUs and landed awkwardly on my left foot), not my groin, not my right butt cheek, and not my hands. When the 20 minutes were up, I was more pissed about not hitting my goal of 9 rounds than anything else.

The pain didn't hit until a few minutes after the workout. Others in the class had torn hands, too, and one by one, we marched into the restroom to rinse off the blood and yelp as the water stung our hands.

(Want to see a barftastic photo of one of my hands post-workout? No you don't. I'm pretty sure you don't want to see this.)

As I type this, my hands are bandaged up like mummies. I feel like an absolute idiot for not taking better care of my hands and letting my calluses build up enough to tear my skin. My butt cheek has been seizing up all day, and my left ankle is still throbbing. But on the plus side, my groin feels like a million bucks!

Result: 8 rounds + 29 reps as RXed.

Special thanks to Rachel for cleaning the blood off my pull-up bar for me, and to Graeme for picking up the bloody paper towels I'd strewn across the floor.

Tomorrow: A post on hand care.