A few words about the WOD

Two separate incidents this week point to what may be my evolving mindset.

No. 1: Thursday night, I sent a tweet to Jacob Garvin, who, along with his wife, Sarah, owns Warrior Crossfit Muscatine, a gym at 211 E. Second St. “What’s on tap tomorrow? No update on your blog yet,” the tweet said.

Jacob and Sarah Garvin

In the language of Crossfit, I was asking him about Friday’s WOD, or Workout of the Day. Asking about it seemed perfectly normal to me until I saw this video today. And then I watched this one, too. It wasn’t as good, but I laughed at the scene at 1:33, where the guy pauses in the shower and checks his iPhone to see if that day’s WOD has been posted. (And, no, I’m not that bad yet, but the potential is there.)

No. 2: I wasted too much time watching these videos on YouTube after a friend at the Muscatine Community Y teased me today about becoming obsessed with Crossfit. Have you seen “Shit Crossfit Girls Say,” she asked.

Of course, I hadn’t seen it, so I came home and watched it. But I liked the other videos better even though it was alarming to admit my friend is right. There is no other way to explain sending tweets to the gym owner, asking about the next day’s WOD. It’s kind of like joining a cult and I think I’ve become one of them.

So what was Friday’s WOD?

In Crossfit, it is known as Fran. It is a benchmark workout that consists of thrusters and pull ups done for time in three sets of 21, 15 and 9 repetitions.  I did it in 9 minutes with 65 pounds. (Really fit Crossfitters will use at least 95 pounds and can do this workout in less than 3 minutes.)

Then we finished up by doing sandbag get ups for 10 minutes. Using a 60-pound sandbag, I stood up 40 times. It wasn’t as easy as it might sound. It left me gasping anyway.

But this has been a good Friday. In addition to Fran, I taught a cycling class at the Y and attended a second cycling class. Not sure how I’ll find that much time to work out once I do finally get a job and go back to full-time employment.

Speaking of the job search: Next week could be big. It’s shaping up like this:

Tuesday — Early morning meeting that I hope may have career implications.

Wednesday — Volunteer committee meeting that could eventually have career implications.

Thursday — Morning meeting for a sizable volunteer project I’m going to tackle for the Community Foundation of Greater Muscatine; afternoon meeting for what could be a temporary full-time job for at least a month or two.

Friday — Meeting for project that I hope may lead to a possible job.

At least I’ll be busy. With some luck and perseverance, maybe something good will come from all of it.

Today’s quote: Do what you can, with what you have, where you are. — Theodore Roosevelt, American president (1858-1919)

The burpees of life; wrestling with ups and downs

A friend and regular reader asked Thursday, “Chris, what is a burpee?”

It was an expected question since I’ve written quite a bit lately about my love-hate relationship with burpees, an exercise that is done by 1. Standing or jogging in place. 2. Doing a squat. 3. From the squat, kicking out your feet and landing flat on your stomach. 4. Doing a push up. 5. Popping back up to your feet and doing it all again. And again. And again.

As a wrestler in high school, we called them up-downs. And we did thousands of them.

Personally, I prefer up-down, which, if you ask me, is also a good way to describe life.  As everyone knows, life is filled with ups and downs. How we react to those highs and lows is what really matters.

Next week will mark two months since my job as editor of the Muscatine Journal was eliminated in what I was told was a cost-cutting move. It has not been a high point in my life, but I’d like to think, for the most part, I have made lemonade out of the lemons.

And then I watched “The Wrestler,” the 2008 movie starring Mickey Rourke as Robin Ramzinski, a past-his-prime professional wrestler known as Randy “The Ram” Robinson. Even though the movie won all kinds of awards, I had never seen it.

As good as it was, I wondered after watching it if I should have.

“I’m an old broken down piece of meat …  and I’m alone. And I deserve to be all alone. I just don’t want you to hate me,” The Ram tells his estranged daughter, Stephanie (played by Rachel Evan Wood.)

No, I’m not all alone. And I don’t have a daughter — estranged or otherwise. But as a 45-year-old guy who has been out of work for two months and whose future is uncertain, I can relate to The Ram’s sense of desperation.

But then I come back to a core belief taught to me at a very young age by, I suppose, my parents. It is nicely summarized by Chuck Swindoll, a 77-year-old evangelical Christian minister in Texas, who said:

Chuck Swindoll

“I believe the single most significant decision I can make on a day-to-day basis is my choice of attitude. It is more important than my past, my education, my bankroll, my successes or failures, fame or pain, what other people think of me or say about me, my circumstances, or my position. Attitude keeps me going or cripples my progress. It alone fuels my fire or assaults my hope. When my attitudes are right, there is no barrier too high, no valley too deep, no dream too extreme, no challenge too great for me.”

With that in mind, I’m going to keep doing what I’ve been doing: Working out every day, blogging here, biking, networking and volunteering.

I’m convinced this routine will lead me to the new job and career I am supposed to have.  It has already led to some pretty interesting volunteer work for groups and projects such as the Community Foundation of Greater Muscatine and the Blue Zone effort in Muscatine.  These are things I likely would not have been able to do if I still had my old job.

And on a side note: If I work out enough, maybe I can start to look a bit more like Rourke did in “The Wrestler.” He is almost 60 and he was ripped in that movie. The thought of it will be a great motivator the next time I have to do a bunch of burpees.

But even if I never look like Rourke, something good is out there on the job front because I am more than just an old piece of meat — even if it sometimes feels otherwise.