The last 3 days have been an emotional roller coaster. It all started with Friday’s Crossfit – the scaled (easy-er) 3rd workout of the Crossfit Open aka “15.3” was 50 wall balls (10lbs ball) and 200 single unders to repeat for 14 minutes.
No probs, right? Well, my box doesn’t have a 10lbs wall ball. Grrrrr. We looked at the balls and some had “lbs” on them, some just had numbers. We assumed that the numbered ones were in kgs and took the one that said 4 because the Games website said 4kg ball was acceptable for the scaled workout. Done. Countdown started way too fast and we had no time to think further.
10 minutes into the 14 minute frantic sweat-flying-everywhere type of workout, the coach said “Dudes, that’s not the right wall ball. That’s a 4 pound one.”
I felt like walking out right then and there. I felt like a total cheat.
I finished the workout though, got 836 reps, walked out of the box and cried. Yikes. I don’t usually cry at Crossfit. Really. I don’t. Even after a million burpees.
All Saturday long I was moaning about the weights of the wall balls at my box and plotting with my workout partner when to redo the workout and what ball to use. I even got another box to lend me a 5kg ball but the only window of opportunity for me to go and pick it up was right as I was finishing a race on Sunday so that didn’t happen…
Detour from this little Wall Ball Drama: bouldering sucked on Saturday morning. I just had no mojo, no energy, no grip strength. I worked on my headstands and handstands a lot though and that was good. Saturday night I didn’t fall asleep until midnight and then thrashed around all night long until my alarm went off at 6:30 :| I got my race kit on, grabbed my bag and headed off to run the brand new North London Half Marathon.
Quick summary of the race (aka Detour nr 2): as I hopped into the portaloo before the start of the race I discovered that my period had come. A week early. Super duper :| (the little crying episode at Crossfit made all sense now – hormones are wonderful like that)
For a split second I thought about going home but then I figured the cramps probably wont hit me until a few hours later and if I run really fast I can finish before they hit. Done deal. (but still NOT the best surprise at the start of a race). P.S. If you cringe reading about stuff like that I’m assuming you are 13 and in that case – why on earth are you reading this blog?!?
It was freezing before the start but at least it didn’t rain. The route was NOT “undulating” as indicated in the race brochure, it was freaking one hill after another. My quads took a mile or two to loosen up and then I ran well until about mile 8 when my quads said – “Wait a minute, we did 200 wall balls on Friday, we want to rest now! No rest? Ok – here’s PAIN.”
I had thought that I’d speed up after 15kms but I should know better than that – even without sore legs, there is no such thing as speeding up in half marathons for me! I tried to keep my pace around 4:56-4:58 min/km, I knew that anything less than 4:58 at the end would mean a PB. The course was not too crowded and the atmosphere was actually pretty great. We ran through Wembley Stadium – it’s so tiny but it was still pretty cool.
I finished with a 31 second PB and a time of 1:44:26.
14th lady in my age category.
My heart rate never went above 170, I didn’t feel like throwing up at the end (always a sign of a REALLY good race ;), so it was just my burning quads that had held me back from an even bigger PB.
But back to the Wall Ball Drama now – thank the lawd that I had used that baby weight ball on Friday. If I had used the next weight up that we had – 14lbs, my legs would have made the race much, MUCH more horrible for me.
And here comes the hilarious part – I’m going to repeat 15.3 tonight with the 14lbs wall ball! Hold. Me. Now.