Yeah, so about Crossfit...

Fuck Crossfit.

Yes, I realize that by saying that I'm putting myself opposite from some VERY fit people, but after hyper extending one big toe, resting off my feet (like, no running either which BLEW) for a month and then going back only to hyper extend the other big toe - fuck Crossfit.

I can't be going to a class where I'm to do a number of exercises that I have to modify to the point of uselessness lest I end up with a You're Going To Have To Sit Out For At Least A Month injury.

I'm over it. Even though I was seeing marked physical improvements (Why, is that an AB I see emerging?  YES IT IS WHOA.) and felt stronger by the day - I'm over it.

I mean, what's the use of having a few emerging abs and upper body strength if you're afraid of stepping off of a curb at an odd angle and accidentally bending your forefoot *just* a tad too far and triggering The Hell Pain and then crying in the street like a pussy girl?

There's no use and that would just look odd: an apparently able bodied woman mincing around shrinking from things like two step staircases and sidewalk curbs.

Also, no running which is No.

I need to run. Otherwise The Crazy happens.

But I was making progress on my pull-ups. Like, I was moving to a less resistant band and able to do more at a time and just basically not just hanging there all desperate and pathetic trying to yard my poor bod up toward the bar.

And my push-ups were getting stronger.

And my abs were starting to vaguely, in the right light and if I hadn't eaten anything yet and wasn't all bloated from a night of gin martinis with extra olives - look like abs. 

What about all of that? No more Crossfit meant probably no more of that stuff too and...sad.

But still, I decided after last month's Oh Fuck Now The Other Toe's Busted injury resulting from walking push ups (there's a gem exercise by the way no thank you) and two months spent favoring the other toe, that I was going to do an extreme Crossfit "modification".

I was going to do it at home.

Myself.

Without the looming fear that I'd walk in to the prison gym and the day's workout was going to involve all manner of lungey toe-bendy movements. Hi, Mountain Climbers, Burpees and Olympic Lift Splits plus also walking lunges and lots of other too-much-toe-bendy-activities.

Instead, I was going to finally - and without injury hopefully - train myself to do a few things that I've never in my whole life been able to do or thought I'd ever be able to do but really want to do like a proper pull-up and a solid number of consistently top form guy push-ups. Plus, I feel like I should be able to dead hang without slipping weak-fingered and shouldered off the bar after 15 seconds.

This is what I was hoping to get out of Crossfit and I was sorta on my way to doing that when I managed to bust up both of my big toes doing a bunch of other shit that I don't care to work on. I mean, I can do a fucking lunge - I don't need to be doing them to my own detriment with a heavy bar over my head thankssomuch.

Another benefit of the home workout that we call HomePoop because Bubba called Crossfit, "CrossPoop", and now I'm at home doing it so you see how this happened, is that I get to use a bunch of equipment that was just hanging around not being used for its expressed purpose meanwhile taking up space in our not spacious garage.

So, now I go out to our rickety ass garage three mornings a week after running with the dog for a warm up and do a few reps of  bike sprints on the trainer-mounted Boss Lady, a boatload of sit ups on the Abmat and then either 60 pull-ups, push-ups or 3 minutes of dead hangs.

I guess now she's Boss Lady of the garage.

I'm sorta ashamed of myself for buying one of these things, but at least my back will be happy and maybe one day I will have an official ab to go with my mat. That'd be swell.

Our hangboard. One day I will be able to do a legit pull-up on this thing. I'm just not saying which day.

Because I've decided I'm a trainer of myself.

Which is probably a bad way to go since I'm no qualified professional personal trainer, but I figure if I managed to train my slow dead ass to run four half marathons, too many 10Ks and 5Ks to count, a few multisport events and I speedworked and fartleked my way to sub-60 10Ks and sub-30 5Ks, then surely I can train my body to do a single unassisted pull-up and a series of solid and real push-ups.

If nothing else, I can train my body to hang like a dead hog's carcass for a minute at a time.

Because that's actually a useful proficiency in the event that you're hanging off of a cliff or the rungs of a helicopter or whatever.

Seriously though - when I see movies where some dude is clinging with the last of his finger strength to the crumbling edge of the cliff and people are all, "Why doesn't he just pull himself up?" and shit, all I'm thinking is that I'd have fallen off ages ago because not only can I not *just pull myself up*, I can't even hang there like a useless mass long enough to cry for help with any chance of anyone coming to my rescue.

Pathetic.

Here's to the small hope that one day I'll be able to cling to a cliff's edge long enough for someone to come rescue my ass because it's going to take me a long time to bag that first pull-up.