Add it to The List...

The List of Things That Should Never Be Done Again. I arrived at the gym with a bounce in my step. I left limping, with hands that won't work, and a little uncertain as to what day it is. What the hell just happened?

WOD: "Eva"
5 rounds for time
800m run
30 kettle bell swings (70lbs)
30 pull ups
1 hour 9 minutes-ish rx'd

Checking the box.

Yesterday was a long day and I didn't make it home until 10:00 p.m. Yes, yes, I know -- I should have hit the gym at 6 a.m. But I didn't, so that's enough of that.

I needed to do something, and preferably a variety of something that would fool me into thinking that I was preparing for the Steeplechase (for which I am currently woefully unprepared.) I stole this little gem from Crossfit Endurance.

WOD: 10:20 x 16 -- Run 10 seconds on 20 seconds off for 16 rounds
All out effort

Turns out, that little torture chamber has the potential to be an excellent way to revisit your last meal. Not wanting to meet the brisket I had for dinner --again -- I backed off on the last six intervals. Weak. At least I checked the box.

Escalante: A Teaser.

This weekend's southern getaway was fantastic. I don't have time to do the trip justice right now, but I will soon. Until then, here's a teaser:

Slot Canyons are trippy.

Brimstone Gulch. Had to go through sandy hell to get here, but...

Thunder Mountain. My Lord...

This trail will require a post of its own.

The Wee One, ripping.

Headed South...

I switched cold-killing strategies last night, moving from grease and alcohol to Mediterranean basics: olive oil, pasta, shrimp, and chocolate. While dinner was delicious, I didn't sleep any better, and the funk that I'm fighting is threatening to settle in my chest. I need to rest, but I also need to keep moving, 'cuz the Steeplechase is looming. It's a delicate balance, and right now I feel like those little rhinovirus bastards have their thumbs on the scale.

This weekend's trip to Escalante should be just what the doctor ordered. Here's a preview:

The house we're borrowing. There is a little Smoky Joe stashed there somewhere, and the driveway should serve as the perfect venue for charring some therapeutic protein.

This is rumored to be the view from the front porch at sunset.

And this slice of heaven is Thunder Mountain. Fourteen miles of this should cure what ails me.

Keeping the little bastards guessing...

The cold I picked up over the weekend is slowly getting better. Too slowly. Usually, when I'm under the weather, I hunker down and try to "take care of myself." Eat right, exercise moderately, avoid alcohol. And it never works. This time, I'm throwing those little rhinovirus bastards a head fake.

Pizza and Coca Cola for lunch. Burgers and brats for dinner. Beer? You bet your ass. I may exercise, or I may not. Hard to say. I may drown myself in NyQuil, or I may not. Hard to say. The point is, if you're an RNA-based "organism" living in my body, watch your back. You won't know when or how, but I'm coming for you.

Mid-Day Update:
I broke down, went to the gym, and got deeee-stroyed. I knew something was up when I couldn't catch my breath --- during the warmup.

WOD: 5 rounds for time of:
200m run
10 pullups
10 pushups
10 back squats @ 135lbs
10 kettlebell swings @ 53lbs
14:15 (I quit after three rounds)

The score so far: Rhinovirus, 1. The ULG, 0.

Air Travel = The Suck

I spent the last 27 hours flying to Nashville, attending a hearing, and flying back. I was gone for about a day, but it feels like a week. I'm disoriented, exhausted, and I picked up a cold along the way. Somebody call me a wambulance. Forgot the number? It's nine wah wah.

I need to cram five days of work and training into 2.5 days, 'cuz The Wee One and I are headed south this weekend. It will be a welcome break -- three days of hiking, riding, and charring beef. Must stay focused...

Earning the right to gorge.

Rather than skiing whatever yesterday's cake frosting had turned into, I decided to work today. I headed to the gym in the evening and made up for lost time.

WOD: Heavy Amber
Squat Cleans @ 135 lbs 10-9-8-7-6-5-4-3-2-1
Box Jumps @ 30" 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8-9-10
Alternate reps for time
17:05

I am my own harshest critic, and even I am happy with that effort. I didn't drop any of the cleans, and I didn't rest during the box jumps. Not bad.

Now it's off to The Wild Grape for some protein and vino. Ahhhhh, weekends.

Off the wagon...

The last 24 hours have turned me into a hedonistic reprobate. I have broken my rule against drinking on a school night for two nights running. I skipped out on work this morning to ski Alta with Dr. Sturges. I didn't go to the gym or run today, choosing instead to do a weak 20 minutes of iPhone yoga before sharing a bottle of red wine with The Wee One.

I must say -- the mental break is quite nice. I'll pull it back together tomorrow. Or maybe I'll keep this bender going. At this point, the jury is still out...

I feel like poop.

I got smoked this morning. The Scientist did his best to keep me rolling -- "just pick it up, get the first one done." It definitely helped, but I still lost the mental game in the last 5 minutes and s-l-o-w-e-d w-a-y d-o-w-n.

WOD: As many rounds as possible in 20 minutes of:
10 Thrusters (75lbs)
10 Sumo Deadlift High Pulls (75lbs)
10 Box jumps (24")
6 rounds + 7 thrusters rx'd

Phew. It's nice to have that over with.

Hole in the repertoire.

Ring dips are a weakness for me, so it was good that we did a lot of them today.

WOD:
10 rounds of:
10 pullups
10 ring dips
18:42 (The time is a hoax. I used my legs to help on most of the ring dips.)

Then
Deadlifts (135x10, 185x10, 205x5, 205x5, 225x3)
GHD Sit ups (5 sets of 10)

Last night, I ran the beginning of the Steeplechase course -- up Memory Grove, on to the Shoreline, and up to the top of I-Street. It was a gut check. I was able to keep moving (good), and I was able to keep a brisk pace while running most of the way back down (also good). Then my legs gave up the ghost (not so good). Little by little...

The limitations of a blog.

I'm at a loss to encapsulate the past 48+ hours. It was a fantastic and rather emotional weekend. Two large dinners involving close friends, and a HUGE announcement from one pair of said friends, led to a roller coaster of introspection that does not lend itself to a pithy online rant. Rather, I offer the following comic relief.

SPRING TOURING: A Play in Three Acts.

Act I
[The ULG, The Wee One, and Vijay go touring. The objective is to ascend Butler Fork, over Gobbler's Knob, and then descend Porter Fork. Early on, the skin track up Butler Fork crosses a narrow snow bridge over a stream.]
THE WEE ONE: Uhhh...
THE ULG: It looks scarier than it is. Just skin straight across.
[The Wee One skins straight across without incident.]

Act II
[Top of Gobbler's Knob. Vertigo inducing fog has engulfed the summit. Visibility blows. The Team is booting across the ridge, hoping for a break in the fog to get their bearings.]
VIJAY: The problem is even if we find the ridge above Porter Fork, it will be unskiable. [Vijay points to the milky whiteness to The Team's left. No one can tell up from down.] And we might step off one of the giant cornices.
THE ULG: We could just follow our skin track back to my truck...
THE WEE ONE: Works for me.
[The Team turns around and skis glop -- which has been getting rained on for the last two hours -- back into Butler Fork.]

Act III:
[The narrow snow bridge again. Vijay and The Wee One have crossed it by the time The ULG catches up.]
THE ULG: I've got a bad feeling about this.
VIJAY: You just need to go straight. You can go straight, can't you?
THE ULG: People always say things like that...
[The ULG slides on to the snow bridge, loses his balance, and falls into the stream. He throws his poles onto the far bank and begins to climb out.]
THE ULG: Curse you Vijay.

THE END.

Get under it.

Weight day. These are typically frustrating, but in a good way. In a "JUST F*CKING PICK IT UP" kind of way. Today was no different.

WOD: Heavy cleans.
135x2, 155x2, 165x2, 165x2, 175x1, 175M, 170x1
Then
5 sets of (10 knees to elbows + 10 back extensions)

I left tired, and it felt good.

Sabotage!!

Today was a rest day, so I went for an easy 3 miler this evening. At least that was the plan. I stuck with the "three mile" part, but the "easy" got sabotaged. The trouble began when I ran by the bread factory on 4th South -- mmmm, delicious. I put my head down, kept moving, and unwittingly ran into a cloud of kryptonite.

Frickin' Banbury Cross. They taste goddamned delicious, and they smell even better. And I swear they were baking cherry jelly donuts as I ran by. Brutal. My legs got heavy, my ankles got stiff, and I lost the fire.

I limped home dreaming of corn syrup and refined flours. Next time, I'll run south.

WOD: Easy mental health loop.
3.4 miles
33:01 (sabotaged)

Fargin' sneaky bastages...

Sprinting is still hard.

I stayed up past my bedtime last night to watch the season premier of Rescue Me, so no 6:00 a.m. session with The Scientist today. I headed to the gym at noon, where I realized that running a 400 is still really hard.

WOD: 3 rounds of the following for time:
400 meter run
15 dead lifts @ 170lbs
21 box jumps @ 30"
16:45

Despite all my bitching and moaning, my work capacity is steadily improving, and my feet are slowly getting stronger. So far, so good.

Winning ugly.

Headed to the gym over lunch. I got it done, rx'd, but just barely. What a junk show...

WOD: Heavy Fran
15-9-6 reps for time of:
Thrusters @ 135lbs
Weighted pull-ups @ 35lbs
17:50 (messy)

Peeling at the crux...

During the week, the singular challenge of any given day is maintaining intensity. I need to crush it at the firm and crush it in the gym, and I also need to keep up with "The Usual" (read: wedding, house, yard, etc.). If The Wee One reads this, she'll spit out her coffee and exclaim "you don't do sh*t to help with the wedding, the house, or the yard!" With almost insignificant exceptions, she's absolutely right.

I can never seem to hold it all together. To use a climbing metaphor, I routinely peel at the crux. If I crush it in the gym, it probably means I slept less and worked not enough. Worse, if I crush it at the firm, it means I slept less, didn't exercise, and didn't pay attention to The Usual. A lot of the time, I feel like That Guy -- killing himself to survive the week so he can revel in the weekend.

Oh, but the weekends are GOOD. I eat whatever I want. I drink whatever I want. The Wee One and I play in the mountains -- and they are incredible mountains -- and we laugh. We hang with our friends -- and they are incredible friends -- and we laugh. The sun shines brighter and the batteries recharge. It's all worth it.

So, for now, that's the deal. The week earns the weekend. I dream of being successful enough that it's all weekend, all the time. Until then, though, I'll keep trying to send the crux.

Last night's therapy:
Run two-ish miles at an easy pace (i.e., lap around the park and to Smith's for some milk). My feet are feeling better and my legs are loosening up. Things are (slowly) moving in the right direction.

*Credit goes to Six for coining the term "The Usual."

Highlights of the last forty-eight.

Friday at 4:50 p.m.: The brief got filed. I was very happy with the final draft and, more importantly, so were the partners. Once the filing receipt hit my inbox, the sun shone brighter, the Heineken tasted crisper, and I felt free to focus on...

Breakfast at Dasks: Here's some free advice -- a rare treat from a lawyer -- eat breakfast at DASKS. Exhibit A: the bacon, egg, and cheese burger.

You heard me.

Insanity in Gunsight: Let's cut to the chase; Saturday at Alta was fantastic. The snow was very deep, and very light, and the clan was skiing at speed. While every run was memorable, my trip down Gunsight was pure insanity. Other parts of the mountain were deeper, but the snow in Gunsight was f-a-s-t. I'm at a loss to describe it, except to say that it took very few turns to get to the bottom. It's an addictive sensation, and I want more. It was the kind of day that makes people move to Utah, and prevents us transplants from ever leaving. And so was...

Sunday on Patsey Marley: The Wee One and I woke up, grabbed a bagel, and nonchalantly skied Radio Tower West off Patsey Marley. I am in awe of the charmed life we lead. Forty-five minutes after swallowing my bagel, we were booting towards Mt. Wolverine. Forty-five minutes after that, we were skiing 1000' of untracked. I'll say it again: we live in the sickest place ever.

Before...

After.

P.S.: My legs still hurt. A lot.

My legs hurt.

I woke up a little sore from yesterday's squats, and a little run down from a late night at the firm. I figured I would perk up if I got my blood flowing, so I headed to the gym. Most of me feels better -- loose, de-stressed -- except my quads. Yikes. Hopefully the vigorous application of alcohol and some quality time on the foam roller will aid tomorrow's return to glory.

Warm Up: The Scientist and I are going to have some words about the severity of this "warm up."
500m Row
100 singles
20 bumper plate squats (25lb)
15 PVC OHS
10 ball cleans
5 strict pullups
10 ball cleans
15 PVC OHS
20 bumper plate squats (25lb)
100 singles
500m Row

WOD: Grab a 20lb medicine ball, and without letting it touch the ground, perform the following:
50 wall balls
50 push press/push jerk
50 box jumps while holding the ball (18")
50 front squat
50 ball swings
50 wall balls
17:23

Creative rests were invented by all. The "Captain Morgan pose" -- one foot up on the box, ball resting on knee -- was particularly effective, and even a bit regal. Leaning against the wall and gasping was less so.

Holding steady.

Strength day. No new PR, but I didn't lose any ground either. I'll take it.

WOD:
Front squats.
3 x 135, 3 x 155, 3 x 175, 1 x 185 (gumby), 3 x 185, 3 x 180, 3 x 180

then

Run, 2 miles-ish.

Running feels foreign right now; my legs definitely do not feel "light." Thankfully, the Steeplechase is over two months away. I'll get there.

I'm a new man.

WOD:
100 24" box jumps
50 135lb deadlifts
40 wipers (95lb)
60 grasshoppers
50 KB squat clean and jerks (35lb) (25 each arm)
32:55

Ahhhhh. Much better.

Not a swiss watch...

Things are not clicking into place right now. The brief isn't done, my sleep schedule is off, and my motivation is low. I didn't work out yesterday -- the cardinal mistake -- and SURPRISE!! my lower back won't loosen up. If two days can constitute a rut, I'm in one.

I will now give myself some of my own advice: Drink a warm glass of cheer the f*ck up. If you don't pull it together, The Wee One is going to strangle you in your sleep.

(Deep breath.) It's a brand new day, and it's snowing. The gym has an ass-kicker waiting for me, and my Turner arrived yesterday. The Wee One hasn't strangled me. Yet. Life is good.

Long live long rides. WRIAD in t-minus 165 days...