So I went to my first of two on ramp CrossFit sessions with Outcast CrossFit Swansea on Tuesday. Absolutely loved it! The coaches were a lovely, approachable bunch and far from the scary, serious terminator types I was secretly bricking myself about. Instead of reducing our apprehensive group of ten to sweating, weeping puddles of our former selves, they focused on teaching us how to move safely (for now - still warily awaiting the session where they suddenly turn on us and morph into scary drill sergeants from Hell). On Tuesday, this mostly meant squats and kettle bell swings. Lots of squats and kettle bell swings.
Learned two new things about myself that night. Apparently I'm a quite-good squatter. Not quite sure how to process that information. Spose if I want to wee in the woods any time soon, I can be confident to get away with dry shoes? Could be useful come Reading Festival next month.
Also learned that I'm a bit floppy for kettle bell swings at the moment. Couple of the coaches had to teach me how to not stick my bum out and swing my arms about like some sort of slutty disco monkey, which is a movement seemingly natural to me. Did start to twig after a few goes, so just goes to show I'll be in good hands at this particular gym. Eventually, I will be reformed of my slutty disco monkey ways and be able to swing the heavy thing around without paralysing myself in the process. Hurrah! Here is some irrefutable evidence that I actually went for your viewing pleasure. I'm the cockney pirate in the blue top:
It's been nearly 48hrs since my first proper CrossFit adventure, and I seem to have lost the ability to walk. My thighs are aching so much that I can't even pass my limp off as excess swag. I'm chuffed to be doing something that uses enough different muscles than usual to actually cripple me, but it does make me more than a bit nervous about the infernally stupid idea that is Sunday's Tenby half marathon. Mr Coach Man of Outcast CrossFit, however, has promised my the use of my own legs following Friday's session as there's going to be more "arm stuff" involved. I hope to sweet baby Jesus that he's right. I don't much care for my arms, but I'll be needing my legs on the day!
If anyone sees a vertically challenged blonde running through Tenby on Sunday with arms locked rigidly in the air, it's not a new running fad, or zombies. It's just me. You can wave if you like, but please understand that I probably won't be able to return the gesture. Eep!