01 02 03 Eat. Pray. WOD.: You are not your score 04 05 15 16 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 31 32 33

You are not your score

34
14.4 killed me last week.
Literally.
I managed to get off the rower in a reasonable amount of time and headed over to the rig for toes to bar. 
T2B are not my thing.

I rarely-if ever-can get 3 strung together at a time.

But during 14.4, I was stringing together 5 at a time. Consistently. I felt great.
And then at number 25, I felt my left hand rip. And it hurt.
I cut my sets down to three at a time.
At 35, my right hand ripped bad. I could feel heat searing my palm.
I was down to singles.
By the time I hit the 50 mark, there were small little piles of skin just hanging on the bar. 
I got through 31 wallballs before they called time.
Every time the ball hit my open rips, I wanted to cry. 
I no repped a few times. That made me want to cry more. 

141.
That was my score.
I posted it and knew I wouldn't be able to redo the workout. My hands were trashed. Cutting the skin off and cleaning them with hydrogen peroxide and alcohol reduced me to sobs.

141 was all I could post.
I desperately just wanted 1 clean. 
I was embarrassed to post my score.
I knew I could do more work.
I don't know if I've ever been more disappointed that I couldn't redo a workout.

And then I realized something: I am not just 141. 
Prior to that workout, I hadn't strung together 5 toes to bar in...ever. Much less done multiple sets of them. 
That score doesn't tell anyone how many times I wanted to stop...and didn't.
141 can't show people that I may have been no repped because my wallball didn't hit the target, but I hit depth every time.
141 doesn't explain that this workout was painful and miserable and I gave it everything I had (including my skin).
And I'm really proud of that.

141 may be my score.
But my score can't tell my story. 

*both photos taken by Mike Buck Photography


Good luck on 14.5! 



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