Ruined

I could say it was The CrossFit Games that ruined me.

But it was really Melissa. And Sue. And Becky.

Eight feet is no longer high enough for wall-ball. And the 14lb ball is no longer heavy enough. For me, at least.

Now it's got to be at least 15lbs and the target has to be 10ft, which is at the ceiling mark in our place.

Damn you CrossFit Games and damn you strong CrossFit women. Just when I had become all nice and cozy with my limits, you had to go and provide an example, a mark for which I have to aim.

Because of you, I can no longer stay all smug and contented ("See my time decreasing?") but instead have to challenge myself all the time. Have to go harder. My quicker time doesn't mean sh**  to me if my weight is lighter than yours.

It's no longer enough to use the 1 pood kettlebell. Or less than RX'd weight on "Grace." Or to drive the speed limit. (Whoops -- that wasn't them. That was me. Nevermind.)

Anyhow, I've never been the kind of person who can do only half the work and look myself in the mirror later. I'm the stupid schmoe doing 12 wall-balls on each round of 10 because I missed the 10-foot mark twice with that 15lb ball.

I'm just glad there are other schmoes in the club with me.

Bring it on. I'm heading outside to find us a 12ft mark. Winter's coming too. We'll see who can handle that ball once there's snow on it.