Achieving goals

I jogged into the box at 5:31am. Because I arrived early I had headed out to do a mile run warmup, and I was just getting back. Other boxmates streamed around me as I came in the door. I asked what we were doing, and Monica said, "You don't want to know," as she ran out the door. Uh oh.

Stef was standing in front of the board. I read over his shoulder:

BADGER (40 min cap)

3 rounds for time:

30 squat cleans
30 pullups
800 meter run

Ummm...yikes. Stef and I quickly conferred and decided that I could sub ring rows for pullups. I was intimidated as hell, but I was game to try. Okay. There were only five of us in the class, since it was Christmas Eve. Okay. I could just hack away at it. I'm only competing with myself.

I'm still working on form for squat cleans, and I slowed down considerably with my first 30. While I was working on ring rows Stef offered the option of only doing 400s for the 800s, and I gladly accepted. Gamely I headed out the door into the predawn.

Coming back in from my first 400, my legs were rubbery but I was still in the game. I Approached my bar.

"Break it up!" Stef called to the room. "Sets of 5, sets of 10. Whatever it takes!"

I worked through 8 and paused at the top. Two more is just two, then you can drop, I told myself. I set my feet and squatted to grab the bar. Up. Fast elbows. Squat. Up. I paused. One more... I coached myself through one more and dropped the bar. Wandering the room, I admired everyone else who was just as intent on their game. Phiew. Back to my bar, I broke it up to sets of 5 and got it done.

Ring rows and out the door. It was still cool, and still dark. "Way to go Monica!" I yelled at the tiny figure approaching me. I walked to the top of the hill and jogged. Jog to the street, walk the street, jog to the fire hydrant, I bargained with myself. My legs felt miserable but I kept going.

Back in the box for the last round, I broke up the cleans into sets of five but still my form was failing. I panted and walked it off, tried again. The sets seemed to drag on impossibly, but I finally got them done. I settled in for ring rows and glanced at the clock. 37:36. Crap, I thought.

"Hey Stef!" I yelled. "I'm gonna finish, just watch the clock for me, okay?" I finished my 30 and was out the door.

Goaded on by the idea that Stef was watching his clock to add time onto my 40 minutes, I jogged to the top of the hill. My legs wobbled and my feet seemed to land at odd angles. I focused on my breathing and dropped to a walk. Walking was a struggle, too. My left leg seemed to lag behind my body and I dragged it with me. I was the last one out there of the 5 of us, but I was going to finish.

Turning at the fire hydrant, I faced up the hill. Damn, I thought, and consciously changed my thinking. You're so close! You're almost done! I repeated to myself as I dragged up the hill. I walked to the top of the hill outside the door, then willed my legs to lift and shuffled to the box.

"41:25!" Stef yelled. "Way to go Erin!" He wrote my time on the board, along with a special note that read, 1 mile warm up run, WAY TO GO ERIN! I collapsed on the floor and glowed. I finished. As I panted I also realized I'd finished a WOD with 400s. Another goal met!

"You know, four months ago you couldn't have done that," Stef looked at me.

"I could barely do it now!" I chuckled, still panting.

"But four months ago, you'd have tapped out in the first round," Stef persisted. "Getting better every day, girl."