Saturday, March 30, 2013 0600 Hours
Actually, I don’t know what happened, because it hasn’t happened yet.
It is 6 o’clock on Saturday morning. I am sipping my first coffee of the day and Suzanne hasn’t woken up yet.
I am dressed for the WOD, but I am still undecided about whether or not I’m going back for seconds. I spent Friday morning struggling with Cleans. My form is horrendous. What is planted in my head hasn’t translated into action. My mobility is poor and flexibility is worse.
By now you are saying that I am filled with negative thoughts, but I am not. I am however, very aware that my age and progress in my fitness are an obstacle at this time. A monumental obstacle.
More to come in a few hours
Saturday, March 30, 2013 1000 Hours
I got to the gym at 7:30 and worked on stretching and mobility. I needed it badly. When I woke up my wrists, elbows and shoulders were throbbing from the past two day efforts. I worked for at least a half hour and I felt loosened up. I knew I was as ready as I was going to be. I grabbed a barbell and set myself up for a few practice movements. I loaded 95# and I was able to Clean and Jerk the weight. It wasn’t pretty but I was able to pull off three reps and I was confident that I was ready for the game.
I loaded up 115#, the Masters weight for my class, and I left the barbell on the floor. I went to the bars and practiced a couple Toes to Bar. I had improved even since yesterday, getting within eight inches of the bar for the first time ever. We were approaching showtime. Between my feet I marked a large “1” in chalk, as a reminder. Every time I would bend over to lift that bar I would remember that the next 7 minutes were irrelevant. The only thing that mattered at that moment was the One Lift.
I positioned myself over the bar; over the “1” I had marked on the floor and I executed a Clean. I attempted the Jerk, but the weight got halfway there and crashed to the floor. I shook it off, One Lift, Bend, Clean, …crash; Bend, Clean,…crash. Thursday I was crashing on Cleans, today, I am managing the Cleans and crashing on the Jerks. I am lacking confidence to dip under the bar to thrust it overhead.
Everyone is yelling at me to get under the bar. 1:30 minutes to go. Tom gets in my face, yelling at me like a Drill Instructor. I appreciated his passion for me to succeed at this move. He was telling me that I’m letting the weight drift too far from my center. Keep it close, keep it inline with my center, drop under the bar and thrust it overhead. I settled in and gave it another shot, remaining very aware of my center, but I failed to get low enough, I felt the barbell come down on my skull and threw the bar down quickly.
One minute to go, I’m running out of gas. My Cleans are requiring much more effort, one more chance to get a point on the board. Dip, jerk, crash. 30 seconds, Clean, dip, dip, dip, jerk,…crash. I watched the last three seconds tick off the timer as my head dropped down and I stared at the big number “1” between my feet. My elusive single point escaped once again.