I Can Hear the Fat Kid Running ... and It's Hilarious

If Forrest Gump can run like the wind, why can't I?

My professional opinion: I don't think I run correctly. Seriously, something has to be physically wrong with my body for me to still run as slow as I do. Maybe my feet are shaped wrong, or actually made of lead. OR I am missing some critical running muscle (technical term) in my legs.

There has to be some explanation for years of running and remaining at a snail's pace. Maybe some sort of time/space continuum is happening once I put on my workout shoes (that would explain a lot). I don't really know what that means, but I felt the need to use a science term as an explanation.

Everyone sprints in a WOD ... I run the same pace as if I was starting a marathon and needed to keep a slow, but steady, pace. The mere suggestion of me running a marathon is hilarious because I would rather gouge my own eyes out before I would subject myself to a run/jog/walk/slow death for that long. I would be the road kill still laid out on the street two days later as cars swerved by honking and annoyed at the traffic disturbance.

I feel certain I look like a 400 lb person trying to fling my body forward one leg at a time. I literally feel like I'm moving backwards sometimes. In the past I used the excuse that I am 5'3" and have the shortest legs ever... until the other day when some 4'9" new little sprite showed up to CrossFit and zipped past me like she had a motor on her ass propelling her forward. That cut me, cut me deep.

This clip comes to mind ...

 

Lucky for me, how fast I run doesn't make for getting Rx or not Rx. [Insert relief here]. It just makes time stand still ... And this CrossFit Badass Wannabe (never gonnabe) look like a tool.

P.S. If anyone finds some scientific reason for slow running, please forward to The Clumsy Crossfitter, as that will give me a valid excuse. Thanks in advance.

Dear Double Unders

Dear Double Unders,

We are not friends. We will never be friends. We certainly will never have a relationship. I bought a special rope for you, and still ... you reject me. You whip me, smack me, trip me, and bring out every curse word I have ever known. I do not like your "playful" smacks on my legs and booty. You play too rough.

Is this my punishment for never wanting to double dutch as a kid? For never singing your jump rope songs? Well your punishment is too harsh. TOO HARSH, I say.

I am breaking up with you. This relationship is stagnant and only brings me pain (both literally and figuratively). I am choosing to focus on the positive things in my CrossFit life, like cleans, pull ups, and SINGLES. I can do singles like a BOSS.

Sincerely,
Uncoordinated

P.S. Tell your friend box jumps they can go screw themselves too.

99 Problems and a Box is 1

Let me be clear ... when I say "box" I do not mean my CrossFit gym. I mean the actual box/step stool/Rubbermaid apparatus of which people use in the gym to give height and/or climb on top of during a workout. The fact that I have ZERO coordination and attempt the things I do in the gym means that I should have giant orange traffic cones surrounding me at all times. No person or thing is safe in my presence.

This past Saturday I did this to myself:

No friends, it wasn't from a box jump, and it wasn't even during our workout. Oh how I wish it had been during the workout. Actual box jump anxiety (the struggle is real) is a whole other animal that will be discussed at a later date. You see, I learned to do pull ups (unassisted) a few months ago and I was showing a fellow athlete (I just laughed that I called myself an athlete) how to kip. Oh, and side note: I am a super shorty. Therefore, I require a step stool or box to reach the pull up bars. So I do a pull up and drop back onto this stool before then dismounting onto the floor. Stepping onto the floor would be when I twisted my ankle and scraped the other shin going down ... to the ground. Now, this was a 12" step stool... how does one even have the vertical space to create these injuries you say? Well, there are a slew of eye witnesses asking that very same question. I cannot explain it other than to say that where there's a will there's a way.

The added bonus would be the 14 other people staring at me in the gym as this all went down. No point in looking like a fool if you don't have a crowd to watch. This also created the situation where I couldn't even pretend I wasn't hurt or did anything. EVERYONE SAW. I often try to play something off as if I am fine, meanwhile I will be dragging a leg behind me like a dead animal.

I normally have a high tolerance for pain (I guess I would have to in order to survive), but I felt my throat get tight. I mean, it was a tiny fall... there's no crying in CrossFit. Except during a rough WOD. You can cry (I prefer internally) during a really hard WOD. I think it was all the attention that got me, but alas, I survived and modified the workout. Do not fret, I will live to exercise another day.

To be clear, CrossFit is not the cause for my injuries. It just gives me a public forum of which to collect them. I cannot tell you how many times I have fallen on the tennis courts, running, walking, walking up stairs, walking down stairs, walking across a flat area, stepping in a hole, and once even just standing still while wearing a pair of skis.

P. S. I get this from my mother.