Who knows what this means?
When I arrived at the gym tonight, J-Vicious said that if I could explain what the workout was, he would reduce the numbers required for each round.
My first instinct was to phone a friend. Fall Risk. For help.
J-V nixed that plan. Claiming that she just wouldn’t show up if I shared the workout with her ahead of time.
And bless their hearts. The 4 o’clock class was doing everything in their power. Short of actually telling me. To help me figure it out.
Captain Obvious kept announcing what he was doing.
“Now I’m sitting on the wall.”
“Now I’m doing calf raises.”
Which…I mean I appreciate his efforts. I’m certain they were solid clues. But they didn’t really help much.
I did. Eventually. Bit by bit. Piece it all together.
But J-V kept asking more clarifying questions. Making me doubt my understanding. And we were getting closer to the start of 5 o’clock class.
We remember the carnage from the imaginary train. Right?
My brain is susceptible to calculatory panic.
For the record, I’m excellent in a legit emergency.
It’s the illusory emergencies that cause my brain to short circuit.
So I panicked. And may have had a tiny little meltdown. Before the start of class. Because we needed this win. We needed it. And J-V was threatening not to let us have it.
Which he didn’t. He didn’t let us have the win.
Even though I thoroughly explained the workout.
I explained that the workout started with a wall sit at the beginning of each round.
And then immediately forgot my own directive. And went straight in for back squats.
Because my brain was still reeling from illusory emergency panic.
Incidentally, I’m not entirely sure I’ve used the words “calculatory” and “illusory” correctly throughout this post. Or that they even are words. But they feel real. And they make me feel like I sound smart. And I need this win. So, just go with it.
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