Fight Gone Bad
Yeah, it certainly did.
I think it’s pretty clear that I don’t like DNFing but I had no reason to do so until two minutes before FGB was finished that I totally experienced the brain-splitting agony of a DNF.
I saw in the morning that Coach had done and PRed on Fight Gone Bad, so I really hoped that we were doing it. I was stoked, to say the least. I sent Boyfriend a text with a big smiley face and anticipated the end of the day.
During warmups, I grabbed my jump rope and started doing single unders during one of my favorite Dubstep songs: “Zombies ate my neighbors” by Schoolboy. I jumped to the beat and every now and then tried doing a double under. On the fourth or so try, the rope didn’t smack my shins and I looked down to see the rope was still moving. I had just gotten a double under. I immediately burst into a crazy-person laugh before announcing it finally happened! Then I kept going. A few single unders and I’d have the double under. I tried stringing them together but I figured it was about actually doing them, not getting many together.
We warmed up with a skill of Turkish Getups, something I don’t think I’m very good at, but I managed to get 5 done without dropping the little 10 pound bell on my head so I viewed it as a win.
The strength was a bit of a let down to me. It was 7 sets of 2 hang power cleans into a push jerk. I knew my normal power clean was something upwards of 100 pounds, so I figured it’d be OK. I got up to 85 pounds in the fifth set and got one but couldn’t get the bar up before I bailed. This occurred for another two rounds and I could only get one clean out of the high hang position. It pissed me off after the third time. I yelled out and kept trying to shake out my shoulders but the stupid bar just wouldn’t go up. I settled there but it was still on my mind.
We had a few minutes to set up for the WOD and we were told to use a bar for the Sumo-Deadlift Hi-Pulls and a different bar on the other side of the gym for the Push Press. I set them both up at 35 since I don’t know what my SDHP is, and I figured I’d be gassed from everything else and I went along my business.
After about 15 SDHP I couldn’t really feel my shoulders. I did box jumps on five 45 pound plates, Did wall balls with a 10 pound ball and got about 10 calories rowed in each round.
It was the third round that it all went down: The SDHP went fine, I got 15 that round and moved onto the box jumps where I got another 13, went back to the push press and got up to 45 total reps. At the rotation I headed to the rower. I’m sure it was all very graceful and everything as it happened. I’m making my way to the rower and all of a sudden my foot decided to stop supporting me and it rolled under me and I went down in a mass of flailing arms and ridiculous expressions. I yelled out an “OW!” and banged my fists on the mat (to show that mat-bastard just how angry I was with it) and coach made his way over to me, helped me onto a plyo box and told me to stay there for a few minutes. I cradled my idiot ankle for a good five minutes while the rest of the people there made it through the WOD Without injury and, after removing my shoe, I hobbled over to the front of the box to my stuff.
I told Coach my reps and was sad to say my total was 178, which would have definitely been over 200 had I not killed myself. I massaged the ankle a bit and traced the alphabet before putting my shoe on and hobbled out of the building. I stopped at Walgreens, bought an ACE bandage and some one-time use ice packs and made my way to knit night where I put my foot up on a stool and iced it for an hour or so. I hobbled home around 9:30 and had to face the THREE FLIGHTS OF STAIRS in my apartment to get from my car to my bed. Not cool.
I got into the apartment, got up to bed and started a load of laundry before removing the ace bandage to replace it with the good cloth one in my medicine cabinet. I slept so hard and good thanks to the three advil I popped. I woke up at 6:30, took off the ace bandage and tried to gingerly stand with the foot.
Probably a bad idea. I dragged the foot behind me into the bathroom and narrowly made it into the shower without falling over. Hot water made it feel better and I was feeling a little more dextrous after that. I applied two strips of KT Tape (because it’s all I had) and wrapped the ace bandage around me again. I found a crappy old pair of ballet flats and slid into them even though they don’t match my outfit; they fit my giant foot, so I went with it.
Three flights of stairs taken one step at a time and I was in my car on my way to work. The ice pack was on my desk and my foot was on it. I didn’t care how unprofessional it was; if someone said anything to me, I’d show them the giant club I have for a foot and they’d be able to walk away.
So I guess the fight really did go bad… I called the chiropractor and hope to have an appointment in the next couple days and I’m thinking a modwod is in order for later this week to avoid the ankle, but still give me a good workout.
The three advil I took earlier today have kicked in. Excuse me while I go get the ice pack.
Posted on December 11, 2012, in CrossFit, FAILSAUCE, Heavy Lifting, Leave Your Ego at the Door and tagged clean and jerk, Crossfit, double unders, Fight Gone BAd, health, healthy-living, kettlebells, My Very First Sports Injury, Sports Injury, Sprained Ankle, WOD. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.