Hungry? My Super Husband (I’m not speaking in hyperbole or anything.) has been ordering two to three meals through Home Chef of late and I have to say they’ve all been quite nice, both in terms of taste and economics.
Memorial Day appears to be easily mistaken for Veterans Day. As far as I know, everyone who reads my periodic rantings is fully aware of the distinct and specific differences, but if you are requiring elucidation then read here and here, oh, and here. Of the veterans that I know personally, most of them are not judgmental against anyone on how they choose to spend their 3 day weekend, and for that I’m grateful. There is far too much judgement happening. From What not to say to someone with curly hair to You’ve been cutting tomatoes wrong your whole life to Top 10 reasons people don’t like you, truly it’s exhausting to keep up with all the things I’m doing wrong. Judgement and condemnation have taken live-and-let-live out into the street and beaten it to death and left its creme de carcass for the birds (who are, apparently, all assholes.) But, I digress. For this day, Memorial Day, I am striving to teach my children love for their country, respect for their military, and honor for their family, and occasionally that includes revving up the grill and turning on the sprinklers to play in the water.
But, we all known I do CrossFit, too, and a Memorial Day CrossFit tradition is the hero WOD Murph. To take your Murph workout to the absolute next level watch the documentary The Protector, and also The Lone Survivor. (Full disclosure: I haven’t seen either of these films because I am an absolute chicken shit about watching movies were the events happened to very real people. I think I may have an overactive empathy gland.) If you didn’t read the link, Murph is a simple but brutal workout, which if done 100% as written, includes wearing a 20 pound vest (I did not wear the vest since I consider the permanent attachment of ass and chest to equal about 20 disbursed pounds.). (Which reminds me, I should write about the 2014 genesis of the #kennyz hashtag.) (I think I’ll start writing exclusively in parentheses. It feels like we’re having a secret conversation.) Where was I? Awww yisss… Murph.
1 mile run + 100 pull ups + 200 push ups + 300 air squats + 1 mile run.
I’ve been doing CrossFit since 2013. I’ve been asked to complete Murph, or a scaled variant, each year.
2013 – “George, wanna do Murph?”
2014 – “Hey, George, are you signed up fo-“
2015 – “George, let’s do a partner Murph.”
2016 – “George, you’re doing Murph.”
I mean, let’s be honest here. Since moving to NY I’ve been exercising more than I’ve really been doing anything else other than complaining and doing laundry, therefore approaching Murph solo should be well within the realm of actual reality. Right? RIGHT?? Right. Concordantly, I made a plan.
1) Get to the gym and exude confidence. Shock and awe, man, shock and awe.
2) Warm up the ankles, shoulders, and intercostal clavicle. Stretch out the hamstrings and achilles. Always be time for stretching.
3) Stake out my pull up bar and guard it with territorial simian fierceness.
4) Pose up together with everyone else going in the 8am heat for a group picture.
5) 3-2-1 Go! The plan called for an 00:11:30-00:12:00 first mile, which I accomplished (yay!). Then it was onto ten rounds of 10 pull ups, 20 push ups, and 30 air squats. Nothing to do here but put your head down and knuckle in.
Small hiccup in the plan in round 8 when my palm started to tear on the pull ups. I waved my microscopic injury at Coach Phil who gave me his patented, “Really, George? Really?” look but still gave me a replacement scale for my already scaled pull ups: hollow rocks. I threw the finger at the pull up bar and kept working.
6) I wanted to complete the 10 rounds before the clock hit the 60 minute time cap to get on that last mile run. At 00:51:somethingorother I stood up my last air squat and Coach Phil, known for his effective motivational motivating, yelled at me, “GET OUT!!” which I did and it looked a lot like this:
But about 20 yards later the rest of my run looked like this.
7) I came skidding back into the gym where the clock read 65:40.
I had done it! I had completed a full Murph on my own!
And, when the negative side of my brain tried to diminish my efforts by telling myself, “Well, you scaled cuz you used a band on the pull ups and were on your knees for the push ups and everyone did it faster than you so you’re not exactly hot shit on a silver salver.” I told myself to STFU.
It was a genuine accomplishment four years in the making. So, I went back to victory mode.
And, then I went into victory eating mode.
And, then I went into victory napping mode.