Yesterday, I swam the distance again, this time without breaks. I did breast stroke the whole time, because I need to learn how to do freestyle, and I wasn’t really going as fast as I possibly could (I really do need to learn freestyle); I was just trying not to hit 1.) the wall next to me and 2.) the elderly lady who conned me into swimming next to the wall as we shared the lane. Anyway, I did it in 24:12, which is pretty fracking slow. But I really just wanted to see how it felt to swim that distance. And I didn’t get any water up my nose although I did get a good gulp of it around lap 12 or so.
Today was technically a rest day, but I ended up exercising not once, but twice. I got to hike in the very beautiful Hammond Hill Forest, which is clear across the county from where I live but I did day camp there as a kid, and haven’t really been back there much since. There are fields of flowers and a whole section of pine trees in the forest with moss on them that look like a cathedral. Very pretty. Katrina dug it too. And my dad, who walked with us.
My second workout was an unplanned WoD called Beat the Storm. Here’s how that went down:
1920 hours
Jeff: I’m going to try and mow the lawn [with his dad's riding mower] before dinner, OK?
Me: OK
1940 hours
Me: [gesturing to Jeff on the riding mower that dinner's ready by waving frantically, pointing at my watch and mimicking stuffing food in my mouth]
Jeff: [thumbs up]
1943 hours
Jeff: Wouldn’t you know it? Just as I finished up by the road, the mower ran out of gas. Hey, did you do any swimming or Crossfit today?
Me: Nope.
Jeff: Well, we might have to push the mower, ha ha ha…
Me: OK, but I need to put on my good sneakers.
Jeff: I was kidding; I’ll just go out after dinner and get some gas for it.
Me: Whatever.
1948 hours
Jeff: These salmon cakes are really good, honey.
Me: Thanks. Hey, it’s really dark all of a sudden.
Jeff: Yeah, we’re under a big cloud that’s moving fast.
Weather: [menaces]
Me: So we might really have to push the mower.
Jeff: Yeah maybe…
Me: Like, stat, or like, after dinner.
Jeff: [looks outside] Probably after dinner.
Weather: Rawr.
Me: Um, I think we have minutes, if we’re lucky.
So, I put on my shoes, and Jeff puts on his shoes, we drop our forks and sprint outside. There’s this sort of pinkish light to the northeast and this big black cloud directly over head and haze to the south. We sprint to the mower, parked by the road and Jeff puts it in neutral and we push it from the road to the back of the warehouse, where it’s kept under an overhang. It was freaking hilarious. Jeff’s like, “We’re almost there, keep pushing. A little bit more.” And I’m thinking that this is no different than most Crossfit workouts. So, it’s starting to sprinkle and we get around the side of the warehouse and get the mower safely under cover. I say, “Run, run, RUN!” And I go tearing towards the house like a maniac, my quads fried from pushing the stupid mower. Jeff saunters back in like I’m a crazy person.
Not two minutes later, it starts pouring and about a minute after that, hail the size of ping-pong balls. Seriously, have never seen hail that big in New York. It sounded like machine gun fire and woke up the baby. I held her for a while, but she was more intrigued than scared, so I took her to the window.
In the end, the mower was OK. Could we be bigger rednecks?