“Just leave those heavy weights out, guys. Sunshine’s here for the next class.”
So, today’s PlayFITStayFIT workout was a 1-2-3-4-5 format.
Now, some of you may think that those are reps.
They’re not reps.
No no. I absolutely knew that.
But even though there’s an enormous difference between five reps of pistol squats. And five minutes of pistol squats.
This is still one of my favorites. Because I don’t have to count. I just have to decide which of five exercises I’m most willing to do 5 minutes of. And which I’m least.
There was a point in Saturday’s 50k++. (I will always include the ++. Because those 3 extra miles, y’all…) Anyway, there was a point in that race that I could feel my soul escaping my body. Because my body was not a suitable place to exist in that moment.
I found that same point in tonight’s PlayFITStayFIT workout.
It was the moment. 42 minutes in. During single leg step ups. When J-Vicious took the perfectly reasonable 25 pound weight out of my hand. And replaced it with 45 pounds.
This was after forcing me to a 50 pound wall sit. And 70 pounds worth of weights on deadlifts. And I just did a 50k++ last weekend, dammit!
I tried to find a reasonable weight for the five minutes of sumo squats. And he points to a 45 pounder. Which really looked occupied to me. But then West’s Sister shifted over to make room and…dammit. Fine. Ok. Ima remember that.
But then she switched weights with me halfway through. And let me have the 25 pounds.
So I guess we’re cool now.
I also experienced the soul escaping sensation a few weeks ago. During a moment when…
So I was resistant to picking up a heavier weight. During class a few weeks ago. For some move. I don’t even remember what move. Because the only thing sticking in my brain. Is that J-V made me pick up something heavier. Like, way heavier. And I said I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t lift that heavy weight. And he said I could. And so I tried. And I did. And dammit…
His gloaty little behind says, “See?”
And I just really hate it when he’s not wrong.
But I’m tired of barely finishing these ultras. And there was a time. Back when I was at the gym regularly. That I could actually run. And sometimes even find my way up onto a podium.
So I guess. If it gets me up and down these mountains easier.
I’ll deal with his gloating.
But I will never. Ever. Actually say the words.
Somebody in class today told him he was right.
Oh, honey. No. Shhhh. We don’t say that here. He doesn’t need to hear that.
So here I am. On my floor. Trying to stretch things back out. Because I’d just started walking normally down steps today. And I can’t keep using Promiseland as an excuse.
Y’all gonna get sick of hearing about that 50k++. Eventually.