Cindy, you’re a heartless bitch.

If you don’t do CrossFit, you may not be aware of the fact that certain sets of exercises are named after women. I don’t know the real story behind that, but after doing my first Cindy, I think probably divorced CrossFit coaches named the worst workouts after women who’d treated them badlly.

Or maybe they named them for women they wanted to show off for. Whatever. The speculation portion is now ended.

My husband/coach innocently asked, “You want to try Cindy? Sure.” How did the idea pop into my head? He had the Cindy requirements printed out at his desk: 5 pullups, 10 pushups and 15 squats. I knew what my modifications were: 5 ring rows, 10 knee pushups and 15 squats to a box (my Achilles tendon is griping so I had to go back up to the 19.75″ high plyo box; when I dropped the almost 2″ to the next lower box, my unstable footing was exposed).

So I saw the sheet and thought to myself, “Oh, I can do that.” It was the AMRAP part I underestimated: As Many Rounds As Possible. In a particular period of time. 20 minutes, to be exact.

Now I understand the saying “I was working out for 6 hours and looked up. Two minutes had passed.” I’d heard that, so really tried not to look at the time tick-tick-ticking away. I was sure I’d hit at least the halfway mark before I finally peeked. 13:30 left on the clock. [Insert Valley Girl “Oh. My. God.” here.]

About that point, Coach Gary says, “I’m so glad you decided to do this so I didn’t have to push you.” I inwardly cursed myself. Later, it occurred to me that maybe he’d planted the Cindy requirements to lure me in. He insists they were only there because he did a Cindy last week. Hmm. My accusation would not stand up in court, but …

Anyway, he made my daugher and son-in-law do the Cindy, too, after I’d finished. It’s only their fourth or fifth day of CrossFit, so I got a lot of sarcastic, “Thanks, mom” for instigating the pain.

The next day, Gary says, “You know, I thought it was about time to start changing things up, so I’m glad you started the Cindy.”

I reply with a grunt/grumble, and then ask, “So what have you got in store for us today?”

He replies, “A quarter Murph.”

I wonder what that is, and get the terrifying reply, “You’ll see.”  A few minutes later, he adds, “A Murph is a Hero WOD.” [Insert Valley Girl “Oh. My. God.” here.] Hero WODs are notoriously difficult, and named for fallen soldiers. The Murph is named for Michael Murphy, a Navy SEAL team leader who died during a recon mission in Afghanistan and posthumously awarded the Medal of Honor.

Of course, we weren’t aware of that part at the time, and were focused on what seemed to us to be a daunting task; now that I know the background, I have a little more perspective that what I was doing was nothing beside what the hero the WOD is named for did. Talk about motivation and feeling bad about fearing a little hard exercise.

So we did a quarter Murph and everyone is sore. A quarter Murph, it turns out, is a quarter-mile run, 25 pullups (ring rows in my case), 50 pushups (knee pushups  for moi), 75 squats (with 19.75″ plyo box to keep me from falling back on my butt) and another quarter-mile run.

Damn. But I can’t whine about it; Gary did a full Murph after that and has the blisters to prove it. So I’m just icing the new pains I’ve found and wondering what’s in store next. But, I have to say, I do feel a sense of accomplishment. The first time I did a quarter-mile walk/run, the amount of walking pretty much equaled the running. The first walk/run of the quarter Murph I managed to run almost all of it. For a 50-year-old morbidly obese woman, that ain’t too bad.

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