Friday, November 25, 2011

Thankful I won't be doing THAT again any time soon!

I didn't have a nice clean paleo Thanksgiving.  Armed with my trusty digestive enzymes, I had stuffing, a couple rolls, and a piece of pumpkin pie, along with all the healthier stuff; luckily I felt ok the next day, but a weekend of sustained, repeated glutening wasn't the best idea... 

Last year I took the liberty of ordering a Bronze turkey from my local organic farm, and Dad was sooo annoyed.  He's the roaster of turkeys in our family, and understandably didn't like the routine being shaken up- he typically would buy a non-frozen commercial bird from the grocery store, and it always turned out great.  So, I annoyed Dad by getting an expensive frozen turkey that came with special instructions.  Dad's former military, so I figured it was better to ask for forgiveness than permission *shrug*  Of course, Dad was so delighted with the turkey that he even emailed the farmer to let him know how great it was, and how it reminded him of the turkeys of his childhood.  Dad ordered a similar turkey from another local farm- this one was a Jersey Buff and was roasted for seven hours. It. Was. Amazing.  This here isn't the turkey we ate, but apparently the father of our bird.

Meet Chip and the farmer

Now here's the non-fun part.  I worked out prior to the feast, and this was the first time I kinda wanted to cry during a workout, and kinda felt like throwing up after.  I typically just go to the gym and do stuff I find fun & avoid stuff I find sucky, but it's time to suck it up so I can actually improve.  I've enlisted a workout buddy who is far more able than me and has been providing bad-ass nasty WODs for the past few weekends.  The prescribed workout was to be 100 dumbbell hang squat-clean thrusters (which I'd never done) with 5 burpees (which I hate with the passion of a thousand suns) on the minute until all DBHSCTs were completed.  Looked extremely tough, but doable. 

Well, my friends, doable it was not.  A few minutes in, I was sucking to the point that once I was done with my five burpees, I only had enough time to do a couple thruster thingies before it was time for MORE burpees.  At least five minutes went by where I did NO thruster thingies.  I quickly became really demoralized and realized that I was so fatigued by the burpees that at best I would finish in several hours, or I would possibly never finish and be resigned to spending the rest of my life doing five burpees on the minute.  That was pretty scary, and my thruster thingies were getting increasingly ugly, so I decided I'd better stop at 50.  Good decision, because I was uber-nauseous at the end.  It probably would've helped if I hadn't wasted energy by stomping around like a frustrated three year old, but I think I need some major work in the stamina department regardless...

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