I went to Crossfit tonight for the third night in a row. I knew on Wednesday that it was going to be a bad idea, but I'm a glutton for punishment I guess and I went for it. By last night I was already miserable, but what's one more day? And I do really love that trainer.
Today we worked on bench press (which we rarely do), pull-ups, and 400 meter runs. I did 65# benches, which I don't remember what my previous number on bench was before I started at Crossfit, but I'm pretty sure it was nowhere near that. I did something like 25 reps of that, plus the pull-ups and runs. The trainer commented that I run especially fast, which was nice. I seriously thought I was going to throw up, but I didn't. I used to know better than to have Barberitos for lunch on a Crossfit day, but I'm getting so fit that I'm like, "eh, whatever." I know none of this is going to kill me, it's just less than pleasant.
At Barberitos I had nachos and I asked them to give me just half the amount of chips and cheese and load up the rest of it with beans, chicken, and salsa. They were very accommodating and I counted it as 14 PPV, which may be a little conservative but I can't be sure.
So I've got the weekend to moan and recover. Grady and I are planning to go to Ramsey Center on Sunday, but I'll talk about that after we do it.
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