More pics coming soon.
I still haven't made up my mind if that was an awesome workout, or if that was the stupidest WOD I have EVER come up with.
Lindsay, Mike, Chantal, Shelly and I met up last night at the MAC club at about 6:30 pm for the Starlight run. Shelly and I found an awesome parking spot right in front of the club, facing up hill, just a block from the start of the race. After we took it, we found out that it was actually a no parking zone. When we tried to start it, the engine just kept turning over but wouldn't start. We had about 1/4 tank of gas and it was all at the back of the tank, where the fuel pump could not get to it. After putting our head together for a few minutes, we decided the best thing to do was to coast backwards, downhill, turn it around and jump start it. Eventually, it worked, and it was pretty funny to see a bunch people in safety green CrossFit Hillsboro t-shirts pushing a Honda.
Now, everywhere we go, Shelly and I usually have to pee once we get there. Does this phenomenon happen to anyone else? I really hope it's not a factor of age. For all future Starlight runners, there is a red brick building on the east side of the bleachers, with bathrooms, without the 1,000 people waiting in line to go pee.
To our surprise, some old and very good friends of ours, Beth and Dane, showed up just to cheer us on. Beth is actually one of my old sparring partners from back in the day, and arguably, one of the best girls I have ever had the opportunity to train.
We check in, mingle a bit, then hit the track and start our warm ups with our medicine balls, push up bars, jump ropes and kettle bells. Almost everyone who walks past us gave the occasional "What the hell are you doing?" glance. We did actually invite the Navy group wearing the Seals shirts to come and play, but they didn't want anything to do with us. It was about at this point, 5 minutes before the start, that the jitters started to set in. It was almost as exciting as stepping into the ring again for another fight: Your know you're going into the fight, there is no turning back, and the adrenaline starts pumping like an oil well in Texas. Linsday had later told me that she had felt like that all day.
We knew we wanted to be the very last because we were going to take so long to finish, and we didn't want to hold up the rest of the crowd, or hit anyone with flying medicine balls. Carrying the red lantern (that's Alaskan jargon for last place) we started the race uphill. We kicked it off strong because I like to come out swinging: 20 up hill lunges. By the time all of us reached the top of the 200 yard climb, I think we all had the same thought going through our head: "Holy shit, holy shit, 3 miles to go". It was then we decided to just jog it out until we made it to the sea of spectators. 1/2 a mile in, there they were parked along the parade with their coolers, spray bottles, lawn chairs, drinks and snacks. "Lunges!" I screamed. "Burpees!" yelled Chantal. For the next 2.5 miles, we did whatever came to mind: Shuffles, cariocas, cleans, clean & jerks, dips, etc. People in the crowd were cheering and clapping at everything we were doing. At one corner, we all hit a set of push ups, and the crowd counted off each rep for us. They kept getting louder and louder with each rep until we were done. That kept us going to the next corner, and the next corner, and the next corner.
Each time I looked over at a teammate, I saw their red face with sweat dripping from their brow, and their gasps for air with each step they took. Still, they kept going forward. Throughout the race though, we would trade equipment so one person would not have to run the entire way with a 20lb med ball. The kettle bells were definitely the worst though. Even just holding them with the arms straight was killer on the shoulders and grip. Now, even though the PVC push ups bars were light, carrying those meant that you had to do deep range of motion push ups, and those just sucked. Especially when people in the crowd kept yelling "Lower! Lower! Get lower!" I love that stuff though, and I have always liked giving the crowd what they want to see.
It was 85 degrees at the start of the run. By our second mile in, it had turned into a CrossFit Hillsboro wet T-shirt contest, and because it was just a 5k that most people can finish in less than 30 minutes, there were not any water stops. We're sucking some serious wind at this point and leaving a trail of sweat behind us, but alas, there it is! The hill leading to the finish line. The same hill we climbed up at the start of the race was now taking us down to the promise land of the finish line on the track at Lincoln High School.
We all ran onto the track at the same time. "Okay." I managed to say in panting breath. "Put all of your stuff down. Burpees to the finish line." "What the F***? Chuck, I'm dying!" Said Chantal (and this is a girl who I have never heard swear). "3,2,1 GO!" I yelled. 50 yards of jumping burpees to the finish line. Everyone's quads are on fire, shoulders and chest are burning already from everything we already did for the last 3 miles, lungs are at capacity and the heart rate is maxed out. "Shelly! Grab hold of my legs! Wheel barrows, go!" I managed to yell. I walked the last 20 feet on my hands with Shelly holding my legs up. As we all lay there on the other side of the finish line, we all looked at one another in shock. "Why the hell did we do that?" Was the question on everybody's mind. "I can't believe we did that." We kept saying to each other.
We noticed the Northwest Personal Training team (some of our mentors) with Sherri McMillian, in their bathtub costume. They came in second place in the costume contest, and it's always good to see them.
When it was all said and done, and we were stretching on the turf together,
I think in the back of our head we were all thinking the same thing: "I can't wait to do it again next year!" What a night. Oh, our 5k time for the race? 1 hour, flat. My 5k personal best? 18:30. Yikes.
Yours in delayed onset muscle soreness,
Chuck Gonzales, Chief Manifestor
A really bad idea