Nope with a Rope
The CrossFit Open has officially begun.
My name is Danial Hooper and I am a Moment Maker* at FNX. (*this is a title given to me by one of my Elites. It’s not official, but it sounds cool so I’m running with it.) This is my 10th year in CrossFit, but will be my first year actually logging scores in the Open. I enjoy CrossFit similar to how I enjoy a glass of wine: It’s delicious and sweet and bitter - while moderation is intended but rarely executed. And I crawl out of bed the next day always questioning decisions.
I train alongside Adrian Conway and Chase Merrill. They’re very fit. I’m not. When our workout starts, they lap me like I’m Bowser in Mario Kart while hitting every banana peel along the way and they’re sparkling like they consumed one of those LSD-Star thingys.
I did 21.1. And this is my story.
1 Wall Walk
10 Double Under
3 Wall Walk
30 Double Under
6 Wall Walk
60 Double Under
9 Wall Walk
90 Double Under
15 Wall Walk
150 Double Under
21 Wall Walk (lol)
210 Double Under
Full disclosure: I’ve never completed a wall walk in my life. When I saw that programmed for 21.1, my first thought was, “Oh cool, wonder how they’re scaling this.”
1 Wall Walk: “Oh wow, that was much easier than I expected. I might actually be able to score pretty well on this one.” My internal dialogue is a fickle idiot.
10 Double Unders: “This rope is awesome, it’s brand new and blue and light, and I think it’s perfect and we’re in love.” I hate writing this, just so you know.
3 Wall Walks: Rep 1 - “Little harder this time, but only like 50 reps left in the workout.” Lol.
Rep 2 - My shoulders start to creak like an old wooden ship used in the civil war era.
Rep 3 - “Ohhh, this is why I don’t do these. They suck. How much time is left?”
30 Double Unders: “Ah yes, my saving grace. I’m gonna kill this--” Just kidding, my rope just broke.
No seriously, somehow my foot turned into a ginsu knife and now my rope is in two pieces. I let out a little desperate laughter and stare at the rope. It’s still broke.
“Um” is all I can muster as I look at my judge. She’s a real nice gal named Cami who quickly runs away.
She ran. Away.
I look around for a lonely rope lying anywhere on the ground. At this point, I would consider using a snake, a prosthetic arm, or even a swimming pool noodle.
Cami came back, though. She’s a hero with a jump rope. It felt like when Black Panther showed up to support Captain America at the end of Endgame.
Cami, you’re my Black Panther. Wakanda Forever.
It’s a leopard print jump rope. “Thank you, Cam-cam.”
It’s a leopard print jump rope built for someone apparently 6 inches shorter than me.
The next 4 minutes are spent with me trying to get through 3-4 double unders at a time. I’m not frustrated, but my body is spending a ton of energy.
Another person runs a rope to me. This one is bright green. It has to be longer than the other one. A freaking bike chain would be longer than the Leopard rope.
Nope. It’s not.
Sometimes, you have to accept that it’s not the arrow, it’s the Indian.
I’m the Indian.
6 Wall Walks: “My shoulders. Are. On Fire.” I’m pretty certain I’m going to tip over and run into another athlete. In the spirit of CrossFit, this is the wrong decision.
Black Leopard tells me to pace myself. She says I’m doing great. I think I need her to cheer me on when I drink wine, too.
These 6 reps take longer than they should have. This type of score is going to keep me from qualifying for the quarter finals. Another year without a podium finish.
As I finish my last wall walk. My shoulders are absolutely on fire, but I eek my way to the top each time. Belly on wall.
60 Double Unders: There’s another rope! Someone brought me another rope! This one is long. Probably built for someone of my height (between 5’10 and 6’3).
I do the 60 dubs in two sets. I’m a machine.
9 Wall Walks: There’s about 2 minutes left. And I’m not completing 5 WWs per minute.
“You’re doing great, just get one.”
I get one.
And then 4 more.
In CrossFit, we prepare for the unpreparable. Or something like that. I jumped, I walked, and I adapted. I was also supported by many. The community and crew are something to be proud of.
Did I get the score I wanted? Who cares. I got the score I earned. And I’ll do better next time.
But no, I’m not redoing it.
See ya next week.
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