Showing posts with label Whitten. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Whitten. Show all posts

Friday, December 24, 2010

Friday's Workout

Just because it's Christmas Eve doesn't mean I'm skipping my WOD today. And it was a doozy today.

Last night, M and I started watching the video of Mat Lalonde's Nutrition Seminar (which he delivered back in June at CrossFit Academy of Lions in Toronto). (I'll post a review soon, but suffice it to say that I'm learning a TON. You can check out a 10-minute preview of the video here.) At one point (close to the 6-hour mark), Lalonde discusses the benefits of fasted training and his conclusion that post-workout carbs aren't necessary -- provided you're not doing a super-long session of metabolic conditioning work.


So what did we do this morning at our CrossFit box? A super-long metcon.

This is atypical for our gym. Ninety-nine percent of the time, we stick with a strict Max Effort Black Box program, with our time split between warm-up, strength work, and a short (sub-15 minute) metcon. But once in a while -- usually near holidays -- our coach decides to "work a different metabolic pathway." In other words, he beats the shit out of us with a meat grinder of a workout.

Metcon:

"Whitten" - 5 rounds for time:
  • 22 overhead kettlebell swings (I used a 53 lb. kettlebell, but RX'ed is 70)
  • 22 plyo box jumps (24" box)
  • 400 meter run
  • 22 burpees
  • 22 wallball shots (20 lb. ball, 10' target)
In other words, 440 heavy reps of explosive, full-body movements. Plus, a mile run. As fast as you can.



Seven other masochists showed up for the morning class today, so we had a full house. A few folks scaled the workout down, using lighter weights, fewer reps and/or shorter distances. For example, one person used a 16-inch plyo box, and another ran 200 meters each round instead of the full 400. Half of the class used wallballs of less than 20 pounds, and aimed for an 8-foot target.

The Terminator and I, however, tried to do the WOD as close to RX'ed as possible -- though after trying out the 70 pound kettlebells, we ultimately decided to go with 53 pounds instead. I matched his pace for the first couple of rounds, but he pulled ahead during our third set of wallball shots, and I never quite caught up. I'm getting better at wallballs, but due to my short stature and light bodyweight, I end up having to jump off the floor with every rep in order to heave the 20-pound ball ten feet up the wall. With my shitty hand-eye coordination, this is no easy task.

Result: 42:51. The Terminator beat me by a minute and a half. Everyone was hustling; with proper scaling, even the slowest among us were done by the 52-minute mark.

As soon as I was finished, recovery was on my mind. I did this metcon in a fasted state, and by the time I wrapped up my last set of wallballs, I'm sure my muscle glycogen stores were at zero. So after a quick pitstop at a nearby supermarket, I drove home to gobble up a bag of carby, starchy chestnuts. And for good measure, I chased 'em down with a plate of M's breakfast frittata and some broccoli.

Santa better bring me some extra fish oil, yo.