I really want to blow, blow, blow, blow, blow…

… my nose. (Sung to the tune of Taio Cruz’s “Break Your Heart”.)

If you don’t enjoy stories that involve bleeding noses, skip ahead.

I awakened yesterday morning feeling perfectly fine. As I was preparing to leave for CFZ, I blew my nose, and my left nostril began gushing massive quantities of blood. I grabbed a handful of tissues (I keep boxes conveniently located throughout the house for this very reason) and attempted, unsuccessfully, to stop the bleeding. As instructed by my ENT doctor, I clasped my nostrils with my thumb and index finger and held tightly for 5 minutes. I released my thumb and finger, and the blood flowed like the river Nile. I grabbed a handful of paper towels, wet them and cleaned up the blood as best I could, and held my nose for 10 minutes. I was able to finally stop the flow of blood – and still remain standing. I was very, very close to passing out and collapsing to the floor. I put a cold compress on my forehead, held wet paper towels to my nose, sat upright on the coach, and fell asleep. Jeff awakened (probably due to my loud swearing) and I informed him of the situation. He suggested a trip to the emergency room but I insisted upon waiting until 8 and calling the ENT doctor then.

Little did I know I had bled all over my shirt, shorts, shoes, and kitchen floor.

Not blood on the dance floor, but blood on the shoe.

Another visit to the ENT doctor, another cauterization. I won’t go into the gory details yet again. The ENT doctor strongly suggested that I be much more careful this time. This includes not blowing my nose for at least three days, liberally and frequently applying saline gel inside my nose throughout the day, and not doing any heavy lifting for three or more days. Uhm, he didn’t even ask me if I lifted. He did, however, demonstrate the specific lifting he didn’t want me to do, namely bending over and/or dead-lifting.

I told Michael Kelley that I was going to rest for a few days. He didn’t believe me. He’s smarter than his fraternal twin brother, but that’s certainly not saying much.

I slept generally well last night, although I did awaken a few times parched and in need of a drink of water. I hate breathing through my mouth. Chapped lips, anyone? I also purchased the “Sleep Cycle” app for my iPhone – and I like it! According to the app, I slept exactly 5:59 last night, from 10:29pm to 4:28am.

I was the first of 17 f@cking people to arrive at the box. I won’t bitch much more; instead I’m considering my options. To add insult to injury, I wasn’t much in the mood to socialize. Don’t hate.

For the warm up, I once again claimed my spot as far away from everyone as I could possibly be while still remaining in the box, at least for the time being.

Strength
Maximum Effort Press

I placed the only movable mat outside if the box. Now I was almost far enough away from everyone for my liking. Unlike everyone else, I didn’t use a rack and instead cleaned the bar before pressing. I did gain Michael Kelley’s “permission” to do so. I warmed up with 75, 95, and 105, and then began singles. I pressed single reps at 115, 120, 125, and 130# — a 5# PR. To hell with not lifting heavy!

Split Press, up to heavy set of 5

I completed 5 reps at 75, 85, and 90#, focusing on proper foot placement and driving off of the front foot. I was certainly glad that we weren’t going to do any more pressing. Oh, wait!

Conditioning
For Time
200m run w/med ball
21 Push Press, 65% 1RM
15 Pull-Ups
200m run w/med ball
15 Push Press
12 Pull-Up
200m run w/med ball
9 Push Press
9 Pull-Ups

More pressing? What the hell? It’s times like these that I fondly recall a time in the not so distant past when I hated Michael Kelley.

As my recently achieved push press 1RM is 155, I used 100# today. And it was heavy. As I’ve not push pressed that heavy of a weight in a metcon I didn’t set goal for number of reps per round but instead set a goal to finish each rep, i.e., lock elbows at the top. My only other goal was to complete all rounds of pull-ups unbroken. I used my 20# medicine ball for runs, bitches.

I couldn’t very well do push presses outside as I would have been in the way of others. The only available space was at the front of the box; thus, I had the farthest distance to travel upon finishing runs as well as traveling to the pull-up rig. I made myself walk from station to station. This was perhaps the most difficult part of the metcon. True story.

I told myself (and Michael Kelley constantly reminded me) to take it easy. I did so, even when running. I mean it! Don’t look at me that way.

Running was sheer pleasure, even while carrying a medicine ball. I carried it on my left and right shoulder the first and last 100m, respectively.

I like using the word “respectively”. Have you noticed?

I completed the 1st round of push presses in reps of 11, 6, & 4, the 2nd round in reps of 5, 4, 3, & 3. That damn bar was feeling might heavy. Miraculously, I finished the last round in reps of 5 & 4. How the hell did that happen?

I completed all rounds of pull-ups unbroken, with my chin well above the bar.

Uhm, yeah, so like from my position in the box I could see everyone completing push presses. What I should really say is that I saw most people completing push presses and a few people complete push jerks. Yes, push jerks. That’s all that I will say.

I completed the metcon as prescribed in 10:04.

Let’s see, that’s 45 push presses at 65% of 1RM and 70% of bodyweight.

Accessory

Pendlay Row
3×8-12

I kept the weight on the bar and did a set of 12 reps. I then put 135# on the bar and completed 6 reps. I stopped at 6 not because the weight was too heavy, but because I realized that this was exactly what my doctor told me I shouldn’t be doing.

At 6:29 Jeff had sent me the following text, which I didn’t read it until after 7: Be careful at the gym please.

I promised Michael Kelley that I wouldn’t tease him about leaving Zeal and going to another box and/or opening my own box. I am, however, allowed to hint. I said, “Michael Kelley, I would still come to Zeal in the evenings when I do doubles, and I’d still coach Friday morning and Saturdays.” He replied, “I know, there are too many f@cking people at the 6am session.” “While I don’t mind coaching large groups, I don’t like working out with this many people,” I said. “You won’t have to worry about it soon,” he replied, “for once the 5am sessions start there will be less people attending at 6. Remember, you said you didn’t want to coach at 5.” That’s exactly what I said. And why would I want to?

This reminds me of a time when Dave asked, “What are you doing here?” That was this past Monday.

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