I’m in a heap of trouble. I might have just made a very bad decision, so the first thing I decided to do was to come share it with you, my partners in this adventure.
You remember my friend Hunter? Well, after my rather pitiful showing last week with the “Jackie,” he decided to inspire me with a little friendly competition. On Friday, June 20th, he and I go toe to toe with slightly more than pride at stake.
We compete for time in the “Jackie”; winner chooses the loser’s diet for 12 hours. He nonchalantly mentioned that I’m going to be eating Subway all day. I nearly puked from the thought.
I feel like the right fielder from a Sunday men’s baseball park league preparing to stare down Jose Fernandez. For context, Hunter does this shit as a job. He’s always getting timed or running a race or standing on his head or blah, blah, blah.
Me? As you know, I lift heavy weights and eat animals.
His is an endurance activity, mine develops power and strength. I’m way behind the eight ball from a cross fit perspective. My embarrassing time on this workout from last week was 11 minutes, 16 seconds; Hunter tells me he can do it under 7:30.
Despite all of that, this was not a challenge I could back down from. For some people, competition is an uncomfortable stressor, and I understand that. For me, it has always acted as a conduit for taking an uncomfortable first step towards making a change.
I subscribe to the semi spiritual concept “ask and you shall receive.” You may remember a few weeks back when after a direct message (stop thinking about Twitter!) from my hip. I identified that a temporary alteration to my workout regimen was in order, but I was dragging my feet, hemming and hawing. I didn’t really do anything different beyond substituting RDLs for my traditional squats. But I put the message out to the world and it replied with a challenge. Hell yes, I accept.
I know that the idea of being embarrassed by Hunter will propel me to challenge myself in every workout I sweat through to prepare. I’ll know that what I consume will be fuel to win, and therefore I’ll be exceptionally on point with my choices. During my MLB days, I would prepare for a game by visualizing the face of the opposing pitcher. Now I’ll use my crossfitting counterpart.
I need a plan and fast. I refuse to be humiliated. In the hours and days to come, I’ll be planning a 7 week build up program to enable me to smash (okay, be competitive with) Hunter.
If y’all cross fit cats have suggestions to train for this event, fire them my way in the comments.
Let’s face it, I’m the underdog, and I love it. I was drafted in the 57th round of the 1995 MLB draft. I’ve been here before; I’m used to scrapping for every success. What about you?
Oh, and Fox Sports 1, feel free to cover this electrifying ceremony of fitness.
Can’t wait for this,