Unfinished, con't.
Or did I post it, already?
Or, worse, did I post it and then rewrite it after already posting it?
Maaaaaaaan, shoulda ate the blue pill.
I’ve got a hangboard in my class.
Most people don’t even notice it. My class is the old autoshop, with a storage loft that hangs over the computer lab part of the class. The board is anchored on the hardwood-panelled wall of the loft, about nine feet up.
I use a wooden chair to step up, and I warm up with a pyramid four seconds, rest, six, eight, ten, eight, six, four. The vertebrae pop.
Then it’s pull-ups, on the sloper, and on the chucks. Sets of four.
The lofty goal: two-finger pull-ups.
My football kids have discovered it. They’re good for five to seven on the chucks, but the slopers kill ‘em. Haaaaahahaa. I consider it a lesson in respecting your elders.
But at 44, the recovery is just not there.
I used to be able to retain the strength longer, but it just ain’t happening.
You know, as long as I can get the wounded out of the building and do my ABCs, I won’t complain.
(That place is going to be a clusterfuck in the event of a disaster; I hope the quake hits on a Saturday.)
Who wants to live forever, anyway?
Or, worse, did I post it and then rewrite it after already posting it?
Maaaaaaaan, shoulda ate the blue pill.
I’ve got a hangboard in my class.
Most people don’t even notice it. My class is the old autoshop, with a storage loft that hangs over the computer lab part of the class. The board is anchored on the hardwood-panelled wall of the loft, about nine feet up.
I use a wooden chair to step up, and I warm up with a pyramid four seconds, rest, six, eight, ten, eight, six, four. The vertebrae pop.
Then it’s pull-ups, on the sloper, and on the chucks. Sets of four.
The lofty goal: two-finger pull-ups.
My football kids have discovered it. They’re good for five to seven on the chucks, but the slopers kill ‘em. Haaaaahahaa. I consider it a lesson in respecting your elders.
But at 44, the recovery is just not there.
I used to be able to retain the strength longer, but it just ain’t happening.
You know, as long as I can get the wounded out of the building and do my ABCs, I won’t complain.
(That place is going to be a clusterfuck in the event of a disaster; I hope the quake hits on a Saturday.)
Who wants to live forever, anyway?