first post, yeah rest Linda killed me, no Haiku for that yet

Her arms on that deadlift look amazing.

Nicole, I agree. The bench is difficult. Great job!

" For The Fallen", written By John Binyon in 1914, is not well known in the United States. The fourth stanza is recited at Remebrance Day ceremonies in England, Canada, and Australia -- and is also engraved on many war memorials. But the whole poem is worth reading. Here it is.

For The Fallen

With proud thanksgiving, a mother for her children,
England mourns for her dead across the sea.
Flesh of her flesh they were, spirit of her spirit,
Fallen in the cause of the free.

Solemn the drums thrill; Death august and royal
Sings sorrow up into immortal spheres,
There is music in the midst of desolation
And a glory that shines upon our tears.

They went with songs to the battle, they were young,
Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow.
They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted;
They fell with their faces to the foe.
---------------------------------------------------------------
They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years contemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.
----------------------------------------------------------------
They mingle not with their laughing comrades again;
They sit no more at familiar tables of home;
They have no lot in our labour of the day-time;
They sleep beyond England's foam.

But where our desires are and our hopes profound,
Felt as a well-spring that is hidden from sight,
To the innermost heart of their own land they are known
As the stars are known to the Night;

As the stars that shall be bright when we are dust,
Moving in marches upon the heavenly plain;
As the stars that are starry in the time of our darkness,
To the end, to the end, they remain.

Oh Tell me the Truth About Love

When it comes, will it come without warning
Just as I'm picking my nose?
Will it knock on my door in the morning,
Or tread in the bus on my toes?
Will it come like a change in the weather?
Will its greeting be courteous or rough?
Will it alter my life altogether?
O tell me the truth about love.

WH Auden

Oh My Gosh! Leaving tomorrow morning early early. I'm totally freaking out. I've been looking forward to this weekend for months and it's finally here. I'm nervous and so excited..

p.s. read that on the train. Poetry in Motion gotta love it

I Know a Man — Robert Creeley

As I sd to my
friend, because I am
always talking, -- John, I

sd, which was not his
name, the darkness sur-
rounds us, what

can we do against
it, or else, shall we &
why not, buy a goddamn big car,

drive, he sd, for
christ's sake, look
out where yr going.

Thanks for the killer workout yesterday. I didn't want to feel my legs anyway.

6'5 225lbs

Deadlift 300
Bench 205
Clean 165

Teamwork is the fuel that allows common people to produce uncommon results.

Philip Larkin - This Be The Verse

They f#$k you up, your mum and dad.
They may not mean to, but they do.
They fill you with the faults they had
And add some extra, just for you.

But they were f#$!ed up in their turn
By fools in old-style hats and coats,
Who half the time were soppy-stern
And half at one another's throats.

Man hands on misery to man.
It deepens like a coastal shelf.
Get out as early as you can,
And don't have any kids yourself.

Interesting. The first mention of a specific verse when you google it.

This is my favorite.

Annabel Lee

It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of ANNABEL LEE;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.

I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea;
But we loved with a love that was more than love-
I and my Annabel Lee;
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Coveted her and me.

And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her highborn kinsman came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
In this kingdom by the sea.

The angels, not half so happy in heaven,
Went envying her and me-
Yes!- that was the reason (as all men know,
In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.

But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we-
Of many far wiser than we-
And neither the angels in heaven above,
Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee.

For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling- my darling- my life and my bride,
In the sepulchre there by the sea,
In her tomb by the sounding sea.

Edgar Allan Poe

Lovely Linda

At ten it's a breeze--the set rushes past.
At nine you suspect that you did ten too fast.
At eight a gorilla climbs up on your back.
At seven you warm up your next heart attack.
Then six kicks your ass around till you see stars.
At five you growl, "Hey, I'm still using those bars!"
At four you sweat blood and lose all of your hair.
Three isn't bad, but by now you don't care.
Because now you push harder through two and through one
For the chance at a half-decent time when you're done.
Then you lie of the floor, drip sweat by the cup,
And praise lovely Linda. Try not to throw up.

Dan, that's good stuff!
I just watched the video, powerful stuff, great job Nicole.

I have two favorites, both very different from each other.

The Peace of Wild Things

When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children's lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.

— Wendell Berry

This one reminds me of my eldest child as a toddler when she fell asleep leaning over her rocking chair. She has always been energetic and for her to fall into slumber on the fly made me think about The Peace of Wild Things.

pete at the seashore

i ran along the yellow sand
and made the sea gulls fly
i chased them down the waters edge
i chased them up the sky

i ran so hard i ran so fast
i left the spray behind
i chased the flying flecks of foam
and i outran the wind

an airplane sailing overhead
climbed when it heard me bark
i yelped and leapt right at the sun
until the sky grew dark

some little children on the beach
threw sticks and ran with me
o master let us go again
and play beside the sea
pete the pup

Ah, I wish I lived on the coast still, happy memories from my childhood are extolled by pete the pup.

I love you Nicole!

So much heart

Great interview at the end of the video too

Things I Learned From My Father:

Never forget those who were killed. Never let rest those who killed them.

Be a man of principal. Fight for what you believe in. Keep your word. Live with integrity. Be brave.
Believe in something bigger than yourself. Serve your country.

Teach. Mentor. Give something back to society.

Lead from the front. Conquer your fears. Be a good friend. Be humble and self-confident. Appreciate your friends and family. Be a leader and not a follower. Be valorous on the field of battle and take responsibility for your actions.

-From the diaries of a fallen hero, Douglas Zembiec

Salutation To The Dawn

Look to this day!
For it is life, the very life of life.
In its brief course
Lie all the verities and realities of your existence:

The bliss of growth,
The glory of action,
The splendor of achievement,

For yesterday is but a dream
And tomorrow is just a vision,
And today well lived makes every yesterday a dream of happiness
And every tomorrow a vision of hope.

Look well, therefore to this day!
Such is the salutation to the dawn.

Kalidasa

I first read this in Dale Carnegie's "How to stop worrying and start living", which is a book I would recommend.

This is one of my own. I hope you enjoy.

"Pursuit"

The earth has grown stale.
We are eroded men.
We no longer sew seeds of passion into the earth.

Let this be freedom for all of those afraid be free.
Pick all of the flowers!
Grasp all of the bright ones and pull them from their roots!

Catastrophe and bliss bloom at the tip of risk's stalk.
Don't let the weeds get in your way!
Cut off all ties to people who only want to drink from you.

Let the climax of your death be in a dark castle's spire,
Slaying a monstrous dragon!
This is what you dreamed when you were young was it not?

Pursue your young heart's desires and lay claim to all it offers!
Hold fast to your dreams!
Stay strong in your faith and what you know to be true!

Don't loose heart at the summit of difficulty's peak!
You will water the earth with blood, sweat, and tears.
But you will give life to new passion, even in your suffering!

Never look back to the past at your wilted mistakes!
Bare your will for all to see!
Give and receive love unconditionally.

And find someone to share your wildflowers with!

great video! it's interesting how different parts of a workout are difficult for different people. the cleans beat me down in this workout and nicole makes them look oh so easy. i think i use too much energy on them from less than perfect technique. now on to the poetry. there once was a man from nantucket...

"i felt like..i don't wan't to do this anymore" many how many times have i been THERE. GREAT job pushing through an exercise that hurts Nicole.

Dan-

Great poem. That just about says it all for Linda.

Great work Nicole.
I agree Ken, I breeze through the bench, the deadlifts and cleans bury me. Nicole makes the cleans and dead's look like she is just warming up.

Nicole is the shiznat!!

Meeting the Master
by Elissa Wald

I dreamed you had the patience of a prayer:
You let me memorize your open hand
Before you closed a fist around my hair.

I read a warning written down somewhere:
"Beware the fury of a patient man."
I dreamed you had the patience of a prayer.

I'll swear to the truth if you'll take a dare,
Plead guilty if you'll force me to the stand,
And close a knowing fist around my hair.

Yours is the rhythm of a rocking chair:
Steady as an hourglass spilling sand.
I dreamed your patience would make saints despair.

I've yearned to cringe beneath your level stare.
My wish has been to be at your command--
To kiss the iron fist around my hair.

I've waited for years, searching everywhere,
But only you have made me understand:
Patience in a slave is itself a prayer,
And answered by your fist around my hair.

"Ooh dat dress so scandalous
And ya know another guy couldn't handle it
See ya shakin that thang like who's da ish
With a look in ya eye so devilish

Ya like to dance at all the hip hop spots
And ya cruise to the crews like connect da dots
Not just urban she likes the pop
Cuz she was livin la vida loca

She had dumps like a truck truck truck
Thighs like what what what
Baby move your butt butt butt
Uh
I think to sing it again
She had dumps like a truck truck truck
Thighs like what what what
All night long
Let me see that thong"

-Sisqo

High Flight

Oh, I have slipped the surly bonds of earth
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I've climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
Of sun-split clouds -- and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of -- wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hov'ring there,
I've chased the shouting wind along, and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air.
Up, up the long, delirious burning blue,
I've topped the windswept heights with easy grace
Where never lark, or even eagle flew.
And, while with silent, lifting mind I've trod
The high untresspassed sanctity of space,
Put out my hand, and touched the face of God.

Nicole you are an amazing athlete...male or female. We tried modified Linda today... and I can relate to the bench press dilemma.

I usually hate benching, would rather use heavy db's. Really have to work on technique and pushing myself.

But NO EXCUSES.....

Robert Frost, The Road Not Taken

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

I wonder if there will be WOD's that include one armed pushups and/or pullups..

Every man's work shall be made manifest: for the day shall declare it, because it shall be revealed by fire; and the fire shall try every man's work of what sort it is. 1 Cor 3:13

"If" by (Joseph) Rudyard Kipling

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or, being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise;

If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with triumph and disaster
And treat those two imposters just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with wornout tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on";

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings - nor lose the common touch;
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run -
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man my son!

31/m/181#

Linda for the first time. DL's are my weakness. Bench was surprisingly easy given I haven't done very much bench. PC's were easy too, but I have been practicing with 135#. After the first two rounds I had to do DL's three at a time. After seven round I had to do them one at a time (even though I only had two and then 1 rep to finish). Sad.

DL 245# (then down to 225# after round 5 b/c my back was rounding)
Bench 185#
PC 135#

Time 36:41

I ate oatmeal with whey protien for breakfast and had a crappy replacement bar for a snack before the WOD. Big mistake. I almost passed out for lack of energy.

Invictus
by W.E. Henley

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of Circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of Chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find me, unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

well... Dan Puckett, i must say that is ispiring prose!

I try to add to the rest day philosophy by reading plays and poems and classical literature often. right now i am on a classical and hellenic greek phase. readin the sophicles oedipus trilogy, homers iliad and odessey, and the sex strike that was born by the firey Lysistrata!

i will leave you with a quick line from Homers iliad, spoken by Epeus, a myceanean (greek) soldier at Patroclus (achilles cousin's) funeral games

" How can a man be first in all events? "

Easy... CROSSFIT!!!

mikemyer

not trying to tell you what to do or anything but you need to take that back right now. go on...take it back.

Murlin, I was gonna post "If." I'd post something different but honestly that is my favorite poem. Good looking out. Kyle S.

I CELEBRATE myself;
And what I assume you shall assume;
For every atom belonging to me, as good belongs to you.

I loafe and invite my Soul;
I lean and loafe at my ease, observing a spear of summer grass.

Houses and rooms are full of perfumes—the shelves are crowded with perfumes;
I breathe the fragrance myself, and know it and like it;
The distillation would intoxicate me also, but I shall not let it.

The atmosphere is not a perfume—it has no taste of the distillation—it is odorless;
It is for my mouth forever—I am in love with it;
I will go to the bank by the wood, and become undisguised and naked;
I am mad for it to be in contact with me.

The smoke of my own breath;
Echoes, ripples, buzz’d whispers, love-root, silk-thread, crotch and vine;
My respiration and inspiration, the beating of my heart, the passing of blood and air through my lungs;
The sniff of green leaves and dry leaves, and of the shore, and dark-color’d sea-rocks, and of hay in the barn;
The sound of the belch’d words of my voice, words loos’d to the eddies of the wind;
A few light kisses, a few embraces, a reaching around of arms;
The play of shine and shade on the trees as the supple boughs wag;
The delight alone, or in the rush of the streets, or along the fields and hill-sides;
The feeling of health, the full-noon trill, the song of me rising from bed and meeting the sun.

Have you reckon’d a thousand acres much? have you reckon’d the earth much?
Have you practis’d so long to learn to read?
Have you felt so proud to get at the meaning of poems?

Stop this day and night with me, and you shall possess the origin of all poems;
You shall possess the good of the earth and sun—(there are millions of suns left;)
You shall no longer take things at second or third hand, nor look through the eyes of the dead, nor feed on the spectres in books;
You shall not look through my eyes either, nor take things from me:
You shall listen to all sides, and filter them from yourself.

-Walt Whitman, first two sections of Song Of Myself, from Leaves of Grass

"I had the worst firereah! I was only 8 hours into a double shift at the nursing home! I was desperate and I saw these wipes in a canister in the bathroom and the thought that a moist cooling option made sense since the toilet paper was (edit) my (edit) raw. Sooo, I wiped with the "wet wipe" and I think I went blind and I definitely started to pass out. I was leaning on the sink and I was praying to god for help, but I was swearing every time the white hot pain would flare up. I think god understood. Turns out the wipes were industrial strength antibacterial wipes a cleaner left in the bathroom, you know for like wiping metal and porceline, for deep cleaning surfaces. It took a good while before I could get it together for the second half of that double shift."
-My friend Gabe-

Oh, the winds of God are blowing,
So keep your sails unfurled.
And the winds of God will taky you,
to the safe harbors of the world.
Forever full of power,
to take you where you will.
Forever full of grace,
if there are sails to fill.
So take the helm, be master.
Unfurl your sail, your part.
And the winds of God will take you,
to the safe harbors of your heart.

Nellie Lincoln (as told to me by Michael Pritchard)

Self-pity

I never saw a wild thing
sorry for itself.
A small bird will drop frozen dead from a bough
without ever having felt sorry for itself.

DH Lawrence

"Tommy"
Rudyard Kipling

I went into a public-'ouse to get a pint o'beer,
The publican 'e up an' sez, "We serve no red-coats here."
The girls be'ind the bar they laughed an' giggled fit to die,
I outs into the street again an' to myself sez I:

O it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy, go away";
But it's ``Thank you, Mister Atkins,'' when the band begins to play,
The band begins to play, my boys, the band begins to play,
O it's ``Thank you, Mr. Atkins,'' when the band begins to play.

I went into a theatre as sober as could be,
They gave a drunk civilian room, but 'adn't none for me;
They sent me to the gallery or round the music-'alls,
But when it comes to fightin', Lord! they'll shove me in the stalls!

For it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy, wait outside";
But it's "Special train for Atkins" when the trooper's on the tide,
The troopship's on the tide, my boys, the troopship's on the tide,
O it's "Special train for Atkins" when the trooper's on the tide.

Yes, makin' mock o' uniforms that guard you while you sleep
Is cheaper than them uniforms, an' they're starvation cheap;
An' hustlin' drunken soldiers when they're goin' large a bit
Is five times better business than paradin' in full kit.

Then it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy how's yer soul?"
But it's "Thin red line of 'eroes" when the drums begin to roll,
The drums begin to roll, my boys, the drums begin to roll,
O it's "Thin red line of 'eroes" when the drums begin to roll.

We aren't no thin red 'eroes, nor we aren't no blackguards too,
But single men in barricks, most remarkable like you;
An' if sometimes our conduck isn't all your fancy paints:
Why, single men in barricks don't grow into plaster saints;

While it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy, fall be'ind,"
But it's "Please to walk in front, sir," when there's trouble in the wind,
There's trouble in the wind, my boys, there's trouble in the wind,
O it's "Please to walk in front, sir," when there's trouble in the wind.

You talk o' better food for us, an' schools, an' fires an' all:
We'll wait for extry rations if you treat us rational.
Don't mess about the cook-room slops, but prove it to our face
The Widow's Uniform is not the soldier-man's disgrace.

For it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Chuck him out, the brute!"
But it's "Saviour of 'is country," when the guns begin to shoot;
An' it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' anything you please;
But Tommy ain't a bloomin' fool - you bet that Tommy sees!

25/6'2"/200#

I got brutalized by Linda twice in one week. First time was last Thursday and then again this evening.

I scaled down to 140 BW.
DL 210
BP 140
PC 105

34:51

PS I was going to quote scripture but since this one had a refrence to prayer in it I went a different direction.

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
by: Robert Frost

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of the easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

Buffalo Bill


Buffalo Bill's
defunct
who used to
ride a watersmooth-silver
stallion
and break onetwothreefourfive pigeons justlikethat
Jesus
he was a handsome man
and what I want to know is
how do you like your blue-eyed boy
Mister Death

ee cummings


[sorry about the spacing errors]

What it seems our military leadership has forgotten in recent days. May we someday get back to the point when these statements hold true again.

SOF TRUTHS
•Humans are more important than hardware
•Special Operations Forces cannot be mass produced
•Quality is better than Quantity
•Competent Special Operations Forces cannot be
created after emergencies occur

Seeing one of the "Elite Crossfitters" with that scared look on their face that Linda makes you get. . . .

Priceless!! bahahaha, bahahahah

Do not go gentle into that good night
by Dylan Thomas

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

great video, I was thinking those exact same thoughts and I suppose many others too. The bench is the toughest for me and that thought of, if i go too soon am I "f'ing" myself.
Totally a mental beast that Linda.

I also find it very interesting how many people kick out a leg as some kind of survival mechanism. I see it all the time. I was always taught to drive my heels into the ground so I never kick out but have seriously strained a glute on a heavy bench before.

Terrific cueing from Tony.
Rob C - you are going to have so much fun at the Oakland cert.

Ripple
By Robert Hunter

If my words did glow, with the gold of sunshine
And my tunes, were played, on the harp unstrung
Would you hear my voice, come through the music
Would you hold it near, as it were your own?

It's a hand-me-down, the thoughts are broken
Perhaps, they're better, left unsung
I don't know, don't really care
Let there be songs, to fill the air

Ripple in still water
When there is no pebble tossed
Nor wind to blow

Reach out your hand, if your cup be empty
If your cup is full, may it be again
Let it be known, there is a fountain
That was not made, by the hands of men

There is a road, no simple highway
Between, the dawn, and the dark of night
And if you go, no one may follow
That path is for, your steps alone

You who choose to lead must follow
But if you fall, you fall alone
If you should stand, then who's to guide you?
If I knew the way, I would take you home

I want to learn more and more to see as beautiful what is necessary in things; then shall I become of those who make things beautiful. Amor fati: let that be my love henceforth! I do not want to wage war against what is ugly. i do not want to accuse; i do not even want to accuse those who accuse. Looking away shall be my only negation. And in all and on the whole; someday i wish to only be a Yes-sayer.
Nietzsche

Tis not good for the Christians health to hurry the Asian brown
For the Christian riles
And the Asian smiles
And he weareth the Christian down

At the end of the fight
Is a tombstone white
With the name of the last deceased

And the epitaph drear
A fool lies here
Who tried to hustle the East

Kipling

Mgold # 43- Ripple is a beautiful tune/poem. . . .

Deadheads 4-ever!!!

I think I've found a new favourite WoD video.

Great performance, and great music too. Keep in mind that in Ripp's strength standards, an "advanced" female at 123lbs would have a 1RM of 116lbs in the bench press. Now multiply that 55 times.

Crazy good job, Nicole.

"An Irish Airman Foresees His Death"

I know that I shall meet my fate
Somewhere among the clouds above;
Those that I fight I do not hate,
Those that I guard I do not love;
My country is Kiltartan Cross,
My countrymen Kiltartan's poor,
No likely end could bring them loss
Or leave them happier than before.
Nor law, nor duty bade me fight,
Nor public men, nor cheering crowds,
A lonely impulse of delight
Drove to this tumult in the clouds;
I balanced all, brought all to mind,
The years to come seemed waste of breath,
A waste of breath the years behind
In balance with this life, this death.
-Yeats

Not a poem, but very poetic nonetheless...

“It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly; who errs and comes short again and again; because there is not effort without error and shortcomings; but who does actually strive to do the deed; who knows the great enthusiasm, the great devotion, who spends himself in a worthy cause, who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement and who at the worst, if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly. So that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat.” - Theodore Roosevelt

Success is counted sweetest
By those who ne'er succeed.
To comprehend a nectar
Requires sorest need.

Not one of all the purple host
Who took the flag today
Can tell the definition,
So clear, of victory.

As he, defeated, dying,
On whose forbidden ear
The distant strains of triumph
Break, agonized and clear.

Emily Dickinson
-----------------------
Don't Quit

When things go wrong as they sometimes will.
When the road you’re trudging seems all up hill.
When funds are low and the debts are high.
And you want to smile, but you have to sigh.
When care is pressing you down a bit.
Rest, if you must, but don’t you quit.
Life is queer with its twists and turns.
As everyone of us sometimes learns.
And many a failure turns about.
When he might have won had he stuck it out:
Don’t give up though the pace seems slow –
You may succeed with another blow.
Success is failure turned inside out –
The silver tint of the clouds of doubt
And you never can tell how close you are.
It may be near when it seems so far:
So stick to the fight when you’re hardest hit –
It’s when things seem worst that you must not quit.

"Hit fast, Hit hard, and keep right on hitting"
-General Holland "Howlin' mad" Smith, USMC, WWII

Lord Acton: The man who prefers his country before any other duty shows the same spirit as the man who surrenders every right to the state. They both deny that right is superior to authority.

http://www.bored.com/findquotes/cate_590_Duty.html

Alfred Lord Tennyson Duty is the most sublime word in our language. Do your duty in all things. You cannot do more. You should never wish to do less. \\I've also seen this one attributed to Robert E. Lee.

Paul

Beautiful girl
I met a beautiful girl
Whenever I saw her my head would swirl
She was the hottest girl in school
But she was dating this guy named Earl

Her eyes are like the ocean mist
when I see her I can't resist
Her voice is sweet music to my ears
I wish we would have kissed

She does not know how much I love her
Every time I talk to her I stutter
I need her night and day
If she were mine my heart would flutter

John Paul Barto

My brother wrote this its on poetry.com
such a softie:)

I love you Nicole. Way to push on. Very inspiring. Miss you tons

XOXO

Holy cow, Nicole, amazing thing to watch.

Tony B: music idea for a video, Rivers Rutherford, Heavy Lifting

That's why I love Nicole. That was incredible. I don't know if I'll ever be able to do that but I'm not going to stop working for it.

Funny to watch how this one hits Nicole - for me, it's the 315# deadlifts that stop me in my tracks, the body weight bench press is very manageable. Can't wait to do this Friday!

Wow! That was truly inspiring. Strong work Nicole!
-Charity

I'moving and not moving at all. I'm like the moon underneath the waves that ever go on rolling and rocking. It is not,"I am doing this," but rather, an inner realization that "this is happening through me,"or "it is doing this for me." The consciousness of self is the greatest hinderance to the proper execution of all physical action.
Bruce Lee, Tao of Jeet Kune Do

Incredible job Nicole! Very, very inspiring... you are a bad ass!

I WILL PERSIST

I will persist until I succeed. I was not delivered unto this world in defeat, nor does failure course in my veins.
I am not a sheep waiting to be prodded by my shepherd, I am a lion and I refuse to walk, to talk, to sleep with the sheep.
I will hear not those who weep and complain, for their disease is contagious. Let them join the sheep.
The slaughterhouse of failure is not my destiny.
I will persist until I succeed.
The prizes of life are at the end of each journey not near the beginning, and it is not given unto me to know how many steps are necessary in order to reach my goal.
Failure I may still encounter at the thousandth step, yet success hides behind the next bend in the road.
Never will I know how close it lies unless I take another step. If that is of no avail I will take another and yet another.
In truth one step at a time is not that difficult.

-Og Mandino

Wow, Nicole that was fantastic, inspiring. I am doing it on Thursday and was going to scale but won't now.

APO 96225

A young man once went to war
In a far off country.
When he had time, he wrote home and said,
"Sure rains a lot here."

But his mother, reading between the lines, wrote:
"We're quite concerned. Tell us what it's really like."
And the young man responded,
"Wow, you ought to see the funny monkeys."

To which his mother replied,
"Don't hold back; how is it?"
And the young man wrote,
"The sunsets here are spectacular."

In her next letter, the mother wrote;
"Son, we want you to tell us everything."

So, the next time, he wrote;
"Today, I killed a man.
Yesterday, I helped drop napalm on women and children.
Tomorrow, we are going to use gas."

And the father wrote back;
"Please don't write such depressing letters.
You're upsetting your mother."
So, after a while, the young man wrote;
"Sure rains a lot here..."
-Larry Rottman

I don't try. I only do. Wan't to try me? -White Zombie

Ouch! poetry hurt brain like Linda hurt body.
TGIRestday

"If There is Something to Desire"

If there is something to desire
there will be something to regret
If there is something to regret
there will be something to recall

If there is something to recall
there was nothing to regret
If there was nothing to regret
there was nothing to desire

Vera Pavlova

more Poetry in Motion

DULCE ET DECORUM EST

Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,
Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs
And towards our distant rest began to trudge.
Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots
But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind;
Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots
Of tired, outstripped Five-Nines that dropped behind.

Gas! Gas! Quick, boys! – An ecstasy of fumbling,
Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time;
But someone still was yelling out and stumbling,
And flound'ring like a man in fire or lime . . .
Dim, through the misty panes and thick green light,
As under a green sea, I saw him drowning.
In all my dreams, before my helpless sight,
He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.

If in some smothering dreams you too could pace
Behind the wagon that we flung him in,
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,
His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin;
If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,
Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
The old Lie; Dulce et Decorum est
Pro patria mori

-Wilfred Owen, WWI veteran and poet

Mental is the word for me and Linda, it's just a long slog for me and I have to fight the demons for the first 3-4 rounds. Nice work, Nicole, I felt your pain on those bench presses.

nicole, thank you thank you thank you for letting me know that we all feel the same way. even if some of us are scaled like no other!

this is attributed to Emerson, but it might be Bessie Stanley:

To laugh often and much;

To win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children;

To earn the appreciation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of false friends;

To appreciate beauty, to find the best in others;

To leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch or a redeemed social condition;

To know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived.

This is to have succeeded.

great topic, coach!
ck

Fame or integrity: which is more important?
Money or happiness: which is more valuable?
Success or failure: which is more destructive?
If you look to others for fulfillment,
you will never truly be fulfilled.
If your happiness depends on money,
you will never be happy with yourself.
Be content with what you have;
rejoice in the way things are.
When you realize that nothing is lacking,
the whole world belongs to you!

Lao Tzu

#28, Murlin - "If" is the one poem I've had memorized for most of my life, and a fine transcription you did. I'll go with another favorite. In honor of a friend who's passed on, and passed this poem along to me before he left. Thanks, Tyler.

By Hamlin Garland

DO you fear the force of the wind,
The slash of the rain?
Go face them and fight them,
Be savage again.
Go hungry and cold like the wolf, 5
Go wade like the crane:
The palms of your hands will thicken,
The skin of your cheek will tan,
You ’ll grow ragged and weary and swarthy,
But you ’ll walk like a man!

The policeman stood and faced his God,
Which must always come to pass.
He hoped his shoes were shining
Just as brightly as his brass.

'Step forward now, policeman,
How shall I deal with you?
Have you always turned the other cheek?
To my church have you been true?'

The policeman squared his shoulders and said,
'No Lord, I guess I ain't
Because those who carry badges
Can't always be a saint.

I've had to work most Sundays,
And at times my talk was rough.
And at sometimes I've been violent
Because the streets are awful tough.

But I never took a penny
That wasn't mine to keep.
Though I worked a lot of overtime
When the bills just got too steep.

And I never passed a cry for help
Though at times i shook with fear.

And sometimes, God forgive me,
I've wept unmanly tears.

I know I don't deserve a place
Among the people here.
They never wanted me around
Except to calm their fear.

If you've got a place for me here, Lord,
It needn't be so grand;
I never epected or had too much
If you don't I'll understand.'

There was a silence all around the throne
Where saints had often trod,
As the policeman waited quietly
For the judgement of his God.

'Step forward now, policeman,
You've borne your burdens well.
Come and walk a beat on Heaven's streets,
You've done your time in Hell.'

"The Butterfly" written by a 20 year old named Pavel Freedmann who was a prisoner in the German concentration camp Theresienstadt in 1942.

The last, the very last,
So richly, brightly, dazzlingly yellow.
Perhaps if the sun's tears would sing
against a white stone. . . .
Such, such a yellow
Is carried lightly 'way up high.
It went away I'm sure because it wished to
kiss the world good-bye.
For seven weeks I've lived in here,
Penned up inside this ghetto.
But I have found what I love here.
The dandelions call to me
And the white chestnut branches in the court.
Only I never saw another butterfly.
That butterfly was the last one.
Butterflies don't live in here,
in the ghetto.

This poem is often quoted as a symbol of hope and determination in the face of insurmountable challenges and odds. Pavel Freedmann was ultimately deported to Auschwitz in 1944 at the age of 22. But his words live on as hope for others --especially for those who are at war.

Wow! Nicole is Awesome!

It was an early morning yesterday
I was up before the dawn
And I really have enjoyed my stay
But I must be moving on

Like a king without a castle
Like a queen without a throne
I'm an early morning lover
And I must be moving on

Now I believe in what you say
Is the undisputed truth
But I have to have things my own way
To keep me in my youth

Like a ship without an anchor
Like a slave without a chain
Just the thought of those sweet ladies
Sends a shiver through my veins

And I will go on shining
Shining like brand new
I'll never look behind me
My troubles will be few

Goodbye stranger, it's been nice
Hope you find your paradise
Tried to see your point of view
Hope your dreams will all come true
Goodbye Mary, Goodbye Jane
Will we ever meet again
Feel no sorrow, feel no shame
Come tomorrow, feel no pain

Now some they do and some they don't
And some you just can't tell
And some they will and some they won't
With some it's just as well

You can laugh at my behavior
That'll never bother me
Say the devil is my savior
But I don't pay no heed

And I will go on shining
Shining like brand new
I'll never look behind me
My troubles will be few
Goodbye stranger it's been nice...

Supertramp
"Goodbye Stranger"

Super tramp, indeed!

My SGM gave me this and "If" by Kipling before I went off to Selection and SFQC.
Kept them laminated to the front back of my field notebook. Pulled it out in the hard times.

"The Quitter" - Robert Service

When you're lost in the Wild, and you're scared as a child,
And Death looks you bang in the eye,
And you're sore as a boil, it's according to Hoyle
To cock your revolver and . . . die.
But the Code of a Man says: "Fight all you can,"
And self-dissolution is barred.
In hunger and woe, oh, it's easy to blow . . .
It's the hell-served-for-breakfast that's hard.

"You're sick of the game!" Well, now, that's a shame.
You're young and you're brave and you're bright.
"You've had a raw deal!" I know -- but don't squeal,
Buck up, do your damnedest, and fight.
It's the plugging away that will win you the day,
So don't be a piker, old pard!
Just draw on your grit; it's so easy to quit:
It's the keeping-your-chin-up that's hard.

It's easy to cry that you're beaten -- and die;
It's easy to crawfish and crawl;
But to fight and to fight when hope's out of sight --
Why, that's the best game of them all!
And though you come out of each gruelling bout,
All broken and beaten and scarred,
Just have one more try -- it's dead easy to die,
It's the keeping-on-living that's hard.

Clothes truly do make the man, naked people have very little clout in society.

Mark Twain

The Purse Seine
by Robinson Jeffers

Our sardine fishermen work at night in the dark of the moon;
daylight or moonlight
They could not tell where to spread the net, unable to see the
phosphorescence of the shoals of fish.
They work northward from Monterey, coasting Santa Cruz; off
New Year's Point or off Pigeon Point
The look-out man will see some lakes of milk-color light on the
sea's night-purple; he points and the helmsman
Turns the dark prow, the motorboat circles the gleaming shoal
and drifts out her seine-net. They close the circle
And purse the bottom of the net, then with great labor haul it in.

I cannot tell you
How beautiful the scene is, and a little terrible, then, when the
crowded fish
Know they are caught, and wildly beat from one wall to the
other of their closing destiny the phosphorescent
Water to a pool of flame, each beautiful slender body sheeted
with flame, like a live rocket
A comet's tail wake of clear yellow flame; while outside the
narrowing
Floats and cordage of the net great sea-lions come up to watch,
sighing in the dark; the vast walls of night
Stand erect to the stars.

Lately I was looking from a night mountain-top
On a wide city, the colored splendor, galaxies of light: how could
I help but recall the seine-net
Gathering the luminous fish? I cannot tell you how beautiful
the city appeared, and a little terrible.
I thought, We have geared the machines and locked all together
into interdependence; we have built the great cities; now
There is no escape. We have gathered vast populations incapable
of free survival, insulated

From the strong earth, each person in himself helpless, on all
dependent. The circle is closed, and the net
Is being hauled in. They hardly feel the cords drawing, yet they
shine already. The inevitable mass-disasters
Will not come in our time nor in our children's, but we and our
children
Must watch the net draw narrower, government take all powers
-or revolution, and the new government
Take more than all, add to kept bodies kept souls- or anarchy,
the mass-disasters.

These things are Progress;
Do you marvel our verse is troubled or frowning, while it keeps
its reason? Or it lets go, lets the mood flow
In the manner of the recent young men into mere hysteria, splin-
tered gleams, crackled laughter. But they are quite wrong.
There is no reason for amazement: surely one always knew that
cultures decay, and life's end is death.

Marge Piercy-- The Low Road

What can they do
to you? Whatever they want.
They can set you up, they can
bust you, they can break
your fingers, they can
burn your brain with electricity,
blur you with drugs till you
can't walk, can't remember, they can
take your child, wall up
your lover. They can do anything
you can't stop them
from doing. How can you stop
them? Alone, you can fight,
you can refuse, you can
take what revenge you can
but they roll over you.

But two people fighting
back to back can cut through
a mob, a snake-dancing file
can break a cordon, an army
can meet an army.

Two people can keep each other
sane, can give support, conviction,
love, massage, hope, sex.
Three people are a delegation,
a committee, a wedge. With four
you can play bridge and start
an organization. With six
you can rent a whole house,
eat pie for dinner with no
seconds, and hold a fund raising party.
A dozen make a demonstration.
A hundred fill a hall.
A thousand have solidarity and your own newsletter;
ten thousand, power and your own paper;
a hundred thousand, your own media;
ten million, your own country.

It goes on one at a time,
it starts when you care
to act, it starts when you do
it again and they said no,
it starts when you say We
and know you who you mean, and each
day you mean one more.

Percy Shelley
(from The Mask of Anarchy)

Rise like lions after slumber
In unvanquishable NUMBER!
Shake your chains to earth, like dew
Which in sleep had fall'n on you:
YE ARE MANY-THEY ARE FEW.

"Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends."

John 15:13

M/25/200

300
200
175
32:27

Great work Nicole. You rock! Great music Tony!

#9 - Mr. Puckett, your poem is priceless! And I met that 800lb gorilla, his brother and his cousin, they came to kick my ass for beating Linda.

Nicole, way to power through! Linda is an equal opportunist when it comes to making us all suffer.

The Anvil
By Robert Lawrence Binyon

Burned from the ore’s rejected dross,
The iron whitens in the heat.
With plangent strokes of pain and loss
The hammers on the iron beat.
Searched by the fire, through death and dole
We feel the iron in our soul.

O dreadful Forge! if torn and bruised
The heart, more urgent comes our cry
Not to be spared but to be used,
Brain, sinew, and spirit, before we die.
Beat out the iron, edge it keen,
And shape us to the end we mean.

26 yom 6'2" 155#

DL: 205#
Hang power clean: 95#
Bench: 155#

28:56 I know...I know....full squat cleans next time even if it's only the bar. I had imminent pukie with this one.

Nicole, you are an animal! Will you marry me? LOL!

# 45 totally stole my thunder - Dylan Thomas is my hero.

This one is equally good tho, and my favorite one line, whereas "Do Not Go Gentle" is my favorite poem. It's from Robert Browning's "Andrea del Sarto." I firmly believe that this line epitomizes Crossfit.

"Ah, but a man's reach should exceed his grasp,
Or what's a heaven for?..."

"...All is silver-grey,
Placid and perfect with my art: the worse!
I know both what I want and what might gain,
And yet how profitless to know, to sigh
"Had I been two, another and myself,
"Our head would have o'erlooked the world!" No doubt." Robert Browning

These past two days and today seem like the worst. I only finished 5 rounds yesterday and today was just ridiculous. It hurts to walk, sit, stand, or lye down but it's somehow worth it.

"The family is the test of freedom; because the family is the only thing that the free man makes for himself and by himself."
~ G.K. Chesterton

"If" by Rudyard Kipling

This one reminds me of my 2 sons. Mychal Shea 25months and Isidoro Daniel 12weeks..

Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it, Ans-which is more- you'll be a Man, my son!
Rudyard Kipling

This one reminds me of my 2 sons. Mychal Shea 25months and Isidoro Daniel 12weeks.

Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it, Ans-which is more- you'll be a Man, my son!
Rudyard Kipling

Awesome Video, very inspiring Nicole! I actually caught myself applauding toward the end when you completed your bp's for each descending series.

I'm in my fifth month of CF and just this past week I have started to strategically think about the WOD's and how I can get the best times. It was so cool to see Nicole's thought process on Linda basically explaining the same.

Thanks Coach for developing the CF community and allowing me to a part of it.

Insert tear here. LOL

1.
Half a league, half a league,
Half a league onward,
All in the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.
"Forward, the Light Brigade!
"Charge for the guns!" he said:
Into the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.

2.
"Forward, the Light Brigade!"
Was there a man dismay'd?
Not tho' the soldier knew
Someone had blunder'd:
Their's not to make reply,
Their's not to reason why,
Their's but to do and die:
Into the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.

3.
Cannon to right of them,
Cannon to left of them,
Cannon in front of them
Volley'd and thunder'd;
Storm'd at with shot and shell,
Boldly they rode and well,
Into the jaws of Death,
Into the mouth of Hell
Rode the six hundred.

4.
Flash'd all their sabres bare,
Flash'd as they turn'd in air,
Sabring the gunners there,
Charging an army, while
All the world wonder'd:
Plunged in the battery-smoke
Right thro' the line they broke;
Cossack and Russian
Reel'd from the sabre stroke
Shatter'd and sunder'd.
Then they rode back, but not
Not the six hundred.

5.
Cannon to right of them,
Cannon to left of them,
Cannon behind them
Volley'd and thunder'd;
Storm'd at with shot and shell,
While horse and hero fell,
They that had fought so well
Came thro' the jaws of Death
Back from the mouth of Hell,
All that was left of them,
Left of six hundred.

6.
When can their glory fade?
O the wild charge they made!
All the world wondered.
Honor the charge they made,
Honor the Light Brigade,
Noble six hundred.

Kipling's "The Young British Soldier" is pretty good as well.

Sorry, forgot to credit Alfred Lord Tennyson for "Charge of the Light Brigade"

#8
I'm in Baltimore, so gotta love Poe, and Annabel Lee is a good one.

#30
Arrghh! You beat me to the punch. "Invictus is one of my faves.

Nicole, you rock. Though I'm a guy, you're one of my biggest inspirations for getting started with CrossFit. Hope to meet you someday at a cert. Keep up the good work!

"The Iron Never Lies to you..." Henry Rollins

heres a cool article I found

Leonidas
"Stranger, announce to the Spartans that we
lie here dead, obedient to their words"
-Herodotus

Another characteristic of heroism is that it can be found anywhere. Leonidas was the king of Sparta (Lacedaemon) who commanded the Greek armies at one of the most important battles in human history: Thermopylae. In 489 B.C., the Persians (known to the Greeks as the Medes) had invaded Greece in overwhelming numbers. The Greek city-states were trying to assemble their armies at the plain of Marathon, and Leonidas took a tiny force of 300 Spartans and Thespians to the narrow mountain pass through which the Persians would have to pass to reach Marathon. The Persians numbered more than an hundred thousand.

Thermopylae was important because Persia was the world's first true superpower. It dominated Asia and sought to dominate Europe. If the Greeks had lost at Marathon, Western civilization would have died at birth. And the Greeks could not have won at Marathon without the brave stand of the Spartans at Thermopylae.

To call what the Spartans did at Thermopylae 'brave' is to misunderstand the scale of the action. Thousands of Persian soldiers, including the very best, the 'Immortals', tried repeatedly to destroy the tiny force that blocked their way. Every Greek soldier was outnumbered more than ten to one in each clash. They knew, with an absolute certainty, that not one of them would survive the battle, and yet they kept the mighty Persian army at bay for a critical six days.

Leonidas and his men knew what was at stake, and knew that every hour they bought for the army assembling at Marathon was just that much more chance that the Greeks could defeat the Persian juggernaut before them. Many men have risked death for their countries, but these men took no risk: death was a certainty. Yet even though the way to flee was clear behind them, they held the pass to the last man, even launching a series of daring charges to recover the body of Leonidas once he had died, for he stood in the front rank throughout the fighting.

People need not be soldiers to be heroes, and it is the spirit of the Spartans that made them heroic, not their victories. Indeed, it was in defeat that they showed their truest selves. Some of us, at one time in our lives or another, will have to make the choice to either give up our principles or give up everything else that is dear to us. That choice, though devastating, holds a terrible beauty: the chance to know who and what we really are.

One of the best videos for mental perseverance. Thanks!!

he finest poem of justice, by the finest poet of the Twentieth Century

The Grave of the Hundred Head

There's a widow in sleepy Chester
Who weeps for her only son;
There's a grave on the Pabeng River,
A grave that the Burmans shun,
And there's Subadar Prag Tewarri
Who tells how the work was done.

A Snider squibbed in the jungle,
Somebody laughed and fled,
And the men of the First Shikaris
Picked up their Subaltern dead,
With a big blue mark in his forehead
And the back blown out of his head.

Subadar Prag Tewarri,
Jemadar Hira Lal,
Took command of the party,
Twenty rifles in all,
Marched them down to the river
As the day was beginning to fall.

They buried the boy by the river,
A blanket over his face--
They wept for their dead Lieutenant,
The men of an alien race--
They made a samadh in his honor,
A mark for his resting-place.

For they swore by the Holy Water,
They swore by the salt they ate,
That the soul of Lieutenant Eshmitt Sahib
Should go to his God in state;
With fifty file of Burman
To open him Heaven's gate.

The men of the First Shikaris
Marched till the break of day,
Till they came to the rebel village,
The village of Pabengmay--
A jingal covered the clearing,
Calthrops hampered the way.

Subadar Prag Tewarri,
Bidding them load with ball,
Halted a dozen rifles
Under the village wall;
Sent out a flanking-party
With Jemadar Hira Lal.

The men of the First Shikaris
Shouted and smote and slew,
Turning the grinning jingal
On to the howling crew.
The Jemadar's flanking-party
Butchered the folk who flew.

Long was the morn of slaughter,
Long was the list of slain,
Five score heads were taken,
Five score heads and twain;
And the men of the First Shikaris
Went back to their grave again,

Each man bearing a basket
Red as his palms that day,
Red as the blazing village--
The village of Pabengmay,
And the "drip-drip-drip" from the baskets
Reddened the grass by the way.

They made a pile of their trophies
High as a tall man's chin,
Head upon head distorted,
Set in a sightless grin,
Anger and pain and terror
Stamped on the smoke-scorched skin.

Subadar Prag Tewarri
Put the head of the Boh
On the top of the mound of triumph,
The head of his son below,
With the sword and the peacock-banner
That the world might behold and know.

Thus the samadh was perfect,
Thus was the lesson plain
Of the wrath of the First Shikaris--
The price of a white man slain;
And the men of the First Shikaris
Went back into camp again.

Then a silence came to the river,
A hush fell over the shore,
And Bohs that were brave departed,
And Sniders squibbed no more;
For the Burmans said
That a kullah's head
Must be paid for with heads five score.

There's a widow in sleepy Chester
Who weeps for her only son;
There's a grave on the Pabeng River,
A grave that the Burmans shun,
And there's Subadar Prag Tewarri
Who tells how the work was done.

not a poem, but i've always admired the quote. used to have it posted above my desk. perfect for crossfit:

A human being should be able to change a diaper, plan an invasion, butcher a hog, conn a ship, design a building, write a sonnet, balance accounts, build a wall, set a bone, comfort the dying, take orders, give orders, cooperate, act alone, solve equations, analyze a new problem, pitch manure, program a computer, cook a tasty meal, fight efficiently, die gallantly. Specialization is for insects.

-Robert A. Heinlein

...and storm through the 3 bars of death...?

SL-25, I thought about that one.

Best rest day prompt ever, I must say.

Aubade
Philip Larkin

I work all day, and get half-drunk at night.
Waking at four to soundless dark, I stare.
In time the curtain-edges will grow light.
Till then I see what's really always there:
Unresting death, a whole day nearer now,
Making all thought impossible but how
And where and when I shall myself die.
Arid interrogation: yet the dread
Of dying, and being dead,
Flashes afresh to hold and horrify.
The mind blanks at the glare. Not in remorse
-- The good not done, the love not given, time
Torn off unused -- nor wretchedly because
An only life can take so long to climb
Clear of its wrong beginnings, and may never;
But at the total emptiness for ever,
The sure extinction that we travel to
And shall be lost in always. Not to be here,
Not to be anywhere,
And soon; nothing more terrible, nothing more true.

This is a special way of being afraid
No trick dispels. Religion used to try,
That vast, moth-eaten musical brocade
Created to pretend we never die,
And specious stuff that says No rational being
Can fear a thing it will not feel, not seeing
That this is what we fear -- no sight, no sound,
No touch or taste or smell, nothing to think with,
Nothing to love or link with,
The anaesthetic from which none come round.

And so it stays just on the edge of vision,
A small, unfocused blur, a standing chill
That slows each impulse down to indecision.
Most things may never happen: this one will,
And realisation of it rages out
In furnace-fear when we are caught without
People or drink. Courage is no good:
It means not scaring others. Being brave
Lets no one off the grave.
Death is no different whined at than withstood.

Slowly light strengthens, and the room takes shape.
It stands plain as a wardrobe, what we know,
Have always known, know that we can't escape,
Yet can't accept. One side will have to go.
Meanwhile telephones crouch, getting ready to ring
In locked-up offices, and all the uncaring
Intricate rented world begins to rouse.
The sky is white as clay, with no sun.
Work has to be done.
Postmen like doctors go from house to house.

“Life ain't ever gonna be easy”
Is what I was told
While I was young it didn't phase me
But then I got old
There's been much pain and sorrow
And more to last
But from my little book I will borrow
And learn from the past
It's not through ease that life is earned
Resistance is the tiny key
When you think of something learned
How often is it a harsh memory?
Our bond is shared through strife
Learning when all is unfurled
Cause no one walks through life
Without a care in the world

Awesome video. I was rooting for you the whole way through Nicole!

Pat yourself on the back, Nicole, I don't know of any woman who can BP 120 pounds for that many reps. Very impressive, you never cease to amaze.
BTW, great poem, #9 (Lovely Linda)

Heres a poem that i made up (go easy on me it's my first poem ever) about the Mary workout.
enjoy

I coulda got killed
but i got drilled
The workout was a Mary
which i did like a fairy
and i only got five rounds in
you can tell i got no strenght
cause the hand stand pushups stank
and the one legged squats stank too
but one thing was fine
the pullups where great
i coulda done them at the fete
Mary made me hate filled
I coulda got killed

i'm relatively new to cross fit (on and off for about 6 months) so i got a question, what is the fastest way to increase strenght (my endurance is great i run alot) my strenth stinks.

Kajan, well-recounted, and well-spoke. May I ask: have you had to make that choice yourself? You speak of it with certainty.

Well i copied and pasted that article but to answer that question..u bet ur a$$...for example starting crossfit.

Posting from work
great video, this one is going on to my ipod in mov format
I drag out the ipod at the gym before a workout to get the focus, and afterwards to critique myself.

My cleans morphed into powercleans towards the end, need to keep them deep and that will add a good 10 minutes at least.

ah, my hero nicole! god she is amazing. way to push through. it's nice to see videos where our CF heroes actually have to struggle a bit, makes them more human. ;-) fantatic work, and today i did the same thing started out thinking i wanna get a really good time, then i thought, shit i just want to finish this thing!

anyway, GREAT job nicole!

There are many that I'd love to drop in here, but I'm going to only leave two:

Strength does not come from physical capacity. It comes from an indomitable will.
MAHATMA GHANDI

And these few precepts in thy memory
See thou character. Give thy thoughts no tongue,
Nor any unproportioned thought his act.
Be thou familiar, but by no means vulgar.
Those friends thou hast, and their adoption tried,
Grapple them to thy soul with hoops of steel;
But do not dull thy palm with entertainment
Of each new-hatch'd, unfledged comrade. Beware
Of entrance to a quarrel, but being in,
Bear't that the opposed may beware of thee.
Give every man thy ear, but few thy voice;
Take each man's censure, but reserve thy judgment.
Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy,
But not express'd in fancy; rich, not gaudy;
For the apparel oft proclaims the man,
And they in France of the best rank and station
Are of a most select and generous chief in that.
Neither a borrower nor a lender be;
For loan oft loses both itself and friend,
And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry.
This above all: to thine ownself be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.
WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE
HAMLET, Act I, Scene III

"This is the true joy in life, the being used for a purpose recognized by yourself as a mighty one; the being a force of nature instead of a feverish, selfish little clod of ailments and grievances complaining that the world will not devote itself to making you happy.

I am of the opinion that my life belongs to the whole community, and as long as I live it is my privilege to do for it whatever I can.

I want to be thoroughly used up when I die, for the harder I work the more I live. I rejoice in life for its own sake. Life is no "brief candle" for me. It is a sort of splendid torch which I have got hold of for the moment, and I want to make it burn as brightly as possible before handing it on to future generations."

George Bernard Shaw
This sums it up quite nicely for me, but in a pinch I like this one too:
“Reality exists as an objective absolute: facts are facts, independent of man's feelings, wishes, hopes or fears.”
Ayn Rand
Ayn Rand must have known something about "Linda."

You cant stop us on the road to freedom
You cant stop us cause our eyes can see
Men with insight, men in granite
Knights in armor intent on chivalry
Shes as sweet as tupelo honey
Shes an angel of the first degree
Shes as sweet as tupelo honey
Just like honey from the bee

Van the Man

Great thanks Kajan i think that i better get more consistent and start following the wods to the letter

this is not my favorite poem
I would favor the road less travelled.
But, they read this at all retirementswhile doing the flag folding ceremony and dirt or something always gets in my eye because I tear up. As a matter of fact it happened when
I read it off the website.

My Name is Old Glory
I am the flag of the United States of America.
My name is Old Glory.
I fly atop the world's tallest buildings.
I stand watch in America's halls of justice.
I fly majestically over great institutes of learning.
I stand guard with the greatest military power in the world.
Look up! And see me!
I stand for peace - honor - truth and justice.
I stand for freedom
I am confident - I am arrogant
I am proud.
When I am flown with my fellow banners
My head is a little higher
My colors a little truer.
I bow to no one.
I am recognized all over the world.
I am worshipped - I am saluted - I am respected
I am revered - I am loved, and I am feared.
I have fought every battle of every war for more than 200 years:
Gettysburg, Shilo, Appomatox, San Juan Hill, the trenches of France,
the Argonne Forest, Anzio, Rome, the beaches of Normandy,
the deserts of Africa, the cane fields of the Philippines, the rice paddies andjungles of Guam, Okinawa, Japan, Korea, Vietnam, Guadalcanal
New Britain, Peleliu, and many more islands.
And a score of places long forgotten by all but those who were with me.
I was there.
I led my soldiers - I followed them.
I watched over them.
They loved me.
I was on a small hill in Iwo Jima.
I was dirty, battle-worn and tired, but my soldiers cheered me,
and I was proud.
I have been soiled, burned, torn and trampled on the streets of
countries I have helped set free.
It does not hurt, for I am invincible.
I have been soiled, burned, torn and trampled on the streets of
my country, and when it is by those
with whom I have served in battle - it hurts.
But I shall overcome - for I am strong.
I have slipped the bonds of Earth and stand watch over the
uncharted new frontiers of space
from my vantage point on the moon.
I have been a silent witness to all of America's finest hours.
But my finest hour comes when I am torn into strips to
be used for bandages for my wounded comrades on the field of battle,
When I fly at half mast to honor my soldiers,
And when I lie in the trembling arms of a grieving
mother at the graveside of her fallen son.
I am proud.
My name is Old Glory.
Dear God - Long may I wave.
-by Howard Schnauber

"Evil Trimupts When Good Men Do Nothing"
E. Burton

Unknown Author:

Roses are red
Violets are blue
Nasty Girl Nicole
I love what you do!

Amazing Athlete + Intelligent + Beautiful + All Around Cool Person = Nicole
Thanks for inspiring me to work harder!

(Cheering on a WOD that is playing on my laptop is getting to be pretty normal for me.)

"Evil Triumpts When Good Men Do Nothing"
E. Burton

More appropriate for the vernal equinox, but here goes:

As the wind whispers through withered willows
I wonder whether Winter will ever cease to be.
But the Spring's sun shines through once sickly shadows
And the splendid serenity sets my spirit free.

-me

#111 and #112

Great freaking posts!

Introduction to Poetry - by Billy Collins

I ask them to take a poem
and hold it up to the light
like a color slide

or press an ear against its hive.

I say drop a mouse into a poem
and watch him probe his way out,

or walk inside the poem's room
and feel the walls for a light switch.

I want them to waterski
across the surface of a poem
waving at the author's name on the shore.

But all they want to do
is tie the poem to a chair with rope
and torture a confession out of it.

They begin beating it with a hose
to find out what it really means.

"I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings"

The free bird leaps
on the back of the wind
and floats downstream
till the current ends
and dips his wings
in the orange sun rays
and dares to claim the sky.

But a bird that stalks
down his narrow cage
can seldom see through
his bars of rage
his wings are clipped and
his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings
with fearful trill
of the things unknown
but longed for still
and is tune is heard
on the distant hill for the caged bird
sings of freedom

The free bird thinks of another breeze
an the trade winds soft through the sighing trees
and the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright lawn
and he names the sky his own.

But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams
his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing

The caged bird sings
with a fearful trill
of things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom.

Maya Angelou

wow! i come home from a having a few drinks (because tomorrow is a rest day) and there are 117 comments on the night BEFORE the rest day. that has to be some kind of record. power of poetry over politics i suppose.

Can't pick one poem. Not fair. A list of some faves.

The usuals from Wordsworth (Tintern Abbey), Coleridge (Kubla Khan), Byron (She Walks in Beauty), Shelley (Ozymandias), Keats (Ode on a Grecian Urn), and almost anything by Kipling and Tennyson. Some obscure works from Milton, who was better than just "Paradise Lost". John Donne's "Death". TS Eliot, while depressing, wrote some great stuff.

Eh, for today, I'll go with Ozymandias.

I MET a traveller from an antique land
Who said:—Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. Near them on the sand,
Half sunk, a shatter'd visage lies, whose frown
And wrinkled lip and sneer of cold command
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamp'd on these lifeless things,
The hand that mock'd them and the heart that fed.
And on the pedestal these words appear:
"My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:
Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair!"
Nothing beside remains: round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare,
The lone and level sands stretch far away.

Ditto # 53

Just watched the vid. One of my all-time fave songs - Fight the Good Fight by triumph. I have that on my MP3 while I do Linda...seriously.

My first choice was IF, I keep a copy in my wallet. My next choice would have been Invictus, I re-read it just this morning. So I’m going to give you something a bit obscure.

From The Boomer Bible, the book of Weapons, chapter 4;

There is a weapon called courage,
which used to ennoble the race,
till courage got drowned in a tidal wave,
made of terrors and trials and tears.

But then there were punks,
who tried mouth-to-mouth,
and courage stood up and took stock.

We’re no longer afraid,
of you or your brains,
or the wisdom that yellowed your back.

Nicole... what a fabulous athelete!

For all the guys over 50 from Tennyson's "Ulysses"-

Though much is taken, much abides; and though
We are not now that strength which in old days
Moved earth and heaven; that which we are, we are;
One equal temper of heroic hearts,
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.

Great job Nicole!

The Donkey

by G.K. Chesterton (Gilbert Keith Chesterton)
(1874-1936)

------------------------------------------------

When fishes flew and forests walked,
And figs grew upon thorn,
Some moment when the moon was blood
Then surely I was born;

With monstrous head and sickening cry
And ears like errant wings,
The devil's walking parody
On all four-footed things;

The tattered outlaw of the earth,
Of ancient crooked will;
Starve, scourge, deride me--I am dumb,
I keep my secret still.

Fools! For I also had my hour;
One far fierce hour and sweet--
There was a shout about my ears
And palms before my feet.

Amigo, the only thing in this world that gives orders is balls. Balls. You got that?" --Tony Montana (Scarface)

Thanks for the inspiration Nicole!

Because of the Lord's GREAT LOVE we are not consumed,
for his compassions NEVER FAIL.
They are NEW EVERY MORNING;
Great is your faithfulness.
Lamentations 3:22, 23
(CAPS mine, NIV)

Nicole that was an awesome display, especially on the benches. Free the beast! I don't think I have a song/poem to add to that :)

Nicole Nicole Nicole Nicole
Nicole Nicole Nicole
Nicole Nicole
Nicole

SUPER GOLD NICOLE

speechless!

TONY great video.. thanks for keeping the camera running and getting the gold from the crown jewel of crossfit (Nicole)

Trees

by Joyce Kilmer

I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.

A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the earth’s sweet flowing breast;

A tree that looks at God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;

A tree that may in Summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;

Upon whose bosom snow has lain,
Who intimately lives with rain.

Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.

Todays workout was a beast! The boys and me went and got swoll though. Thanks Linda!

I submit a pair of Roberts:
There are strange things done 'neath the midnight sun
By the men who moil for gold.
The arctic trails have their secret tales
That would make your blood run cold.
The northern lights have seen queer sights
But the queerest they ever did see,
Was that night on the marge of Lake LeBarge
When I cremated Sam McGee.

and

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

Fate is in Heaven, the armor is on the chest, success is with the legs.
Go to the battle field firmly confident of victory, and you will come home with no wounds whatever.
Engage in combat fully determined to die and you will be alive, wish to survive in the battle field and you will surely meet death.
When you leave the house determined to see it again you will come home safely; when you have any thought of returning , you will not return.
You may not be in the wrong to think that the world is always subject to change, but the warrior must not entertain this way of thinking, for his fate is always determined.

Uesugi Kenshin (1530-1578)

wow great selection BJ!

Great effort in the demo, as always. Nicole's difficulty with the bp highlights what seems like a problem with the general protocol, though. Here's the thing: the fact that bp is implemented at all implies that it's a physiologically useful movement; otherwise it would be discarded. But we don't even look at a bench for two months, then we're expected to do 56 reps at body weight. I don't know about anyone else, but my chest and front delts are sore for a week after Linda, because my chest is under-utilized during most of the workouts.

Don't get me wrong; rather than complain I've incorporated bench into my weekly routine again, not because I'm worried about pushing big weights, but because some of my other times have begun to suffer (most notably Cindy, which in the most recent evolution my rounds went down because for the first time I struggled with pushups) the further removed I am from the regular weightlifting protocol I used to follow. Just seems to me that if we consider bench press a functionally useful exercise we ought to do it more often, esp. if we're expected to perform it as such a high level.

Nicole, you once again have proven you are a goddess...great job!

This is a response to a question yesterday for the heavier guys out there and how we handle Linda. From my experience and from buddies of mine that are approximately the same size or larger, the thing that kills us heavier guys in Linda is the grip! Loading up 330-350 pounds on the DL really gets after your grip something fierce! Maybe this isn't the problem for other heavier guys, but that's what slows me down the most during Linda. Some would hate me for saying this but for me and my buddies, the bench during Linda is actually somewhat of a "rest" after all of those DLing reps! I would love to hear from other guys and gals out there about their Achilles Heel during Linda since it is one of the few WOD's that really messes me up good because of those dang DL's.

K I have this one on my EyePod and listen to it all the time:

If I could offer you only one tip for the future, sunscreen would be it. The long-term benefits of sunscreen have been proved by scientists, whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own meandering experience. I will dispense this advice now.

Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth.
Oh, never mind.
You will not understand the power
and beauty of your youth until they've faded.
But trust me, in 20 years, you'll look back at photos of
yourself and recall in a way you can't grasp now how much
possibility lay before you and how fabulous you really looked.
You are not as fat as you imagine.

Don't worry about the future.
Or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as
trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubble gum.
The real troubles in your life are apt to be things
that never crossed your worried mind, the kind that
blindside you at 4 pm on some idle Tuesday.

Do one thing every day that scares you.

Sing.

Don't be reckless with other people's hearts.
Don't put up with people who are reckless with yours.

Floss.

Don't waste your time on jealousy.
Sometimes you're ahead,
sometimes you're behind.
The race is long and, in the end,
it's only with yourself.

Remember compliments you receive.
Forget the insults.
If you succeed in doing this, tell me how.

Keep your old love letters.
Throw away your old bank statements.

Stretch.

Don't feel guilty if you don't know
what you want to do with your life.
The most interesting people I know didn't know at
22 what they wanted to do with their lives. Some
of the most interesting 40-year-olds I know still don't.

Get plenty of calcium.

Be kind to your knees.
You'll miss them when they're gone.

Maybe you'll marry, maybe you won't.
Maybe you'll have children, maybe you won't.
Maybe you'll divorce at 40,
maybe you'll dance the funky
chicken on your 75th wedding anniversary.
Whatever you do, don't congratulate yourself
too much, or berate yourself either.
Your choices are half chance.
So are everybody else's.

Enjoy your body.
Use it every way you can.
Don't be afraid of it or of what other people think of it.
It's the greatest instrument you'll ever own.

Dance,
even if you have nowhere to do it but your living room.

Read the directions,
even if you don't follow them.

Do not read beauty magazines.
They will only make you feel ugly.

Get to know your parents.
You never know when they'll be gone for good.

Be nice to your siblings.
They're your best link to your past and the people
most likely to stick with you in the future.

Understand that friends come and go,
but with a precious few you should hold on.
Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography and lifestyle,
because the older you get, the more you need the
people who knew you when you were young.

Live in New York City once, but leave before it
makes you hard. Live in Northern California
once, but leave before it makes you soft.

Travel.

Accept certain inalienable truths:
Prices will rise.
Politicians will philander.
You, too, will get old.
And when you do, you'll fantasize that when you
were young, prices were reasonable, politicians
were noble, and children respected their elders.

Respect your elders.

Don't expect anyone else to support you.
Maybe you have a trust fund.
Maybe you'll have a wealthy spouse.
But you never know when either one might run out.

Don't mess too much with your hair or by the
time you're 40 it will look 85.

Be careful whose advice you buy,
but be patient with those who supply it.
Advice is a form of nostalgia.
Dispensing it is a way of fishing the past from the disposal,
wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts
and recycling it for more than it's worth.

But trust me on the sunscreen.

Mary Schmich
( newspaper columnist with the Chicago Tribune )

Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

Robert Frost

AllisonNYC - thank you for that wonderful contribution.. I am going to share it with my teenaged son and daughter..

Cynthia

Haiku

Bench, deadlift, and clean
Ten full rounds of heaviness.
Did you see her smile?

kstar

Right In Two by Tool:

Angels on the sideline,
Puzzled and amused.
Why did Father give these humans free will?
Now they're all confused.

Don't these talking monkeys know that
Eden has enough to go around?
Plenty in this holy garden, silly monkeys,
Where there's one you're bound to divide it.
Right in two.

Angels on the sideline,
Baffled and confused.
Father blessed them all with reason.
And this is what they choose.
And this is what they choose...

Monkey killing monkey killing monkey
Over pieces of the ground.
Silly monkeys give them thumbs,
They forge a blade,
And where there's one
they're bound to divide it,
Right in two.
Right in two.

Monkey killing monkey killing monkey.
Over pieces of the ground.
Silly monkeys give them thumbs.
They make a club.
And beat their brother, down.
How they survive so misguided is a mystery.

Repugnant is a creature who would squander the ability to lift an eye to heaven conscious of his fleeting time here.

Cut it all right in two

Fight over the clouds, over wind, over sky
Fight over life, over blood, over prayer,
overhead and light
Fight over love, over sun,
over another, Fight...

Angels on the sideline again.
Been soon long with patience and reason.
Angels on the sideline again
Wondering when this tug of war will end.

Cut it all right in two

Rejoice in hope, endure in affliction, persevere in prayer.

Romans 12:12

AllisonNYC

I agree, that was a really good one. So was the one posted on #134

Meditation XVII, John Donne.

The bell doth toll for him that thinks it doth; and though it intermit again, yet from that minute that that occasion wrought upon him, he is united to God. Who casts not up his eye to the sun when it rises? but who takes off his eye from a comet when that breaks out? Who bends not his ear to any bell which upon any occasion rings? but who can remove it from that bell which is passing a piece of himself out of this world?

No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main. If a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as well as if a manor of thy friend's or of thine own were: any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind, and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.

I know its long but it's great.

LET us go then, you and I,
When the evening is spread out against the sky
Like a patient etherised upon a table;
Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,
The muttering retreats 5
Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels
And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells:
Streets that follow like a tedious argument
Of insidious intent
To lead you to an overwhelming question … 10
Oh, do not ask, “What is it?”
Let us go and make our visit.

In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo.

The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes, 15
The yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window-panes
Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening,
Lingered upon the pools that stand in drains,
Let fall upon its back the soot that falls from chimneys,
Slipped by the terrace, made a sudden leap, 20
And seeing that it was a soft October night,
Curled once about the house, and fell asleep.

And indeed there will be time
For the yellow smoke that slides along the street,
Rubbing its back upon the window-panes; 25
There will be time, there will be time
To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;
There will be time to murder and create,
And time for all the works and days of hands
That lift and drop a question on your plate; 30
Time for you and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
And for a hundred visions and revisions,
Before the taking of a toast and tea.

In the room the women come and go 35
Talking of Michelangelo.

And indeed there will be time
To wonder, “Do I dare?” and, “Do I dare?”
Time to turn back and descend the stair,
With a bald spot in the middle of my hair— 40
[They will say: “How his hair is growing thin!”]
My morning coat, my collar mounting firmly to the chin,
My necktie rich and modest, but asserted by a simple pin—
[They will say: “But how his arms and legs are thin!”]
Do I dare 45
Disturb the universe?
In a minute there is time
For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.

For I have known them all already, known them all:—
Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons, 50
I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;
I know the voices dying with a dying fall
Beneath the music from a farther room.
So how should I presume?

And I have known the eyes already, known them all— 55
The eyes that fix you in a formulated phrase,
And when I am formulated, sprawling on a pin,
When I am pinned and wriggling on the wall,
Then how should I begin
To spit out all the butt-ends of my days and ways? 60
And how should I presume?

And I have known the arms already, known them all—
Arms that are braceleted and white and bare
[But in the lamplight, downed with light brown hair!]
It is perfume from a dress 65
That makes me so digress?
Arms that lie along a table, or wrap about a shawl.
And should I then presume?
And how should I begin?
. . . . .
Shall I say, I have gone at dusk through narrow streets 70
And watched the smoke that rises from the pipes
Of lonely men in shirt-sleeves, leaning out of windows?…

I should have been a pair of ragged claws
Scuttling across the floors of silent seas.
. . . . .
And the afternoon, the evening, sleeps so peacefully! 75
Smoothed by long fingers,
Asleep … tired … or it malingers,
Stretched on the floor, here beside you and me.
Should I, after tea and cakes and ices,
Have the strength to force the moment to its crisis? 80
But though I have wept and fasted, wept and prayed,
Though I have seen my head [grown slightly bald] brought in upon a platter,
I am no prophet—and here’s no great matter;
I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker,
And I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker, 85
And in short, I was afraid.

And would it have been worth it, after all,
After the cups, the marmalade, the tea,
Among the porcelain, among some talk of you and me,
Would it have been worth while, 90
To have bitten off the matter with a smile,
To have squeezed the universe into a ball
To roll it toward some overwhelming question,
To say: “I am Lazarus, come from the dead,
Come back to tell you all, I shall tell you all”— 95
If one, settling a pillow by her head,
Should say: “That is not what I meant at all.
That is not it, at all.”

And would it have been worth it, after all,
Would it have been worth while, 100
After the sunsets and the dooryards and the sprinkled streets,
After the novels, after the teacups, after the skirts that trail along the floor—
And this, and so much more?—
It is impossible to say just what I mean!
But as if a magic lantern threw the nerves in patterns on a screen: 105
Would it have been worth while
If one, settling a pillow or throwing off a shawl,
And turning toward the window, should say:
“That is not it at all,
That is not what I meant, at all.”
. . . . . 110
No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be;
Am an attendant lord, one that will do
To swell a progress, start a scene or two,
Advise the prince; no doubt, an easy tool,
Deferential, glad to be of use, 115
Politic, cautious, and meticulous;
Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse;
At times, indeed, almost ridiculous—
Almost, at times, the Fool.

I grow old … I grow old … 120
I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.

Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach?
I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.
I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.

I do not think that they will sing to me. 125

I have seen them riding seaward on the waves
Combing the white hair of the waves blown back
When the wind blows the water white and black.

We have lingered in the chambers of the sea
By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown 130
Till human voices wake us, and we drown.

T.S. Eliot
The love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock

I'm so excited I can't sleep. At least I have lots of stuff to read

No Expectations (Jagger/Richards)

Take me to the station and put me on a train
I've got no expectations to pass through here again
Once I was a rich man and now I am so poor
But never in my sweet, short life have I felt like this before

Your heart is like a diamond, you throw your pearls at swine
And as I watch you leaving me, you pack my peace of mind

Our love was like the water that splashes on a stone
Our love was like our music, it's here and then it's gone
So take me to the airport and put me on a plane
I've got no expectations to pass through here again

I somehow banished T.S. Eliot to the spam filter, so here is another one I love,

This Is Just To Say
I have eaten
the plums
that were in
the icebox

and which
you were probably
saving
for breakfast.

Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold.

-- William Carlos Williams

Do you think Robert Service knew "Linda" when he wrote this;

When you're lost in the Wild, and you're scared as a child,
And Death looks you bang in the eye,
And you're sore as a boil, it's according to Hoyle
To cock your revolver and . . . die.
But the Code of a Man says: "Fight all you can,"
And self-dissolution is barred.
In hunger and woe, oh, it's easy to blow . . .
It's the hell-served-for-breakfast that's hard.

"You're sick of the game!" Well, now, that's a shame.
You're young and you're brave and you're bright.
"You've had a raw deal!" I know -- but don't squeal,
Buck up, do your damnedest, and fight.
It's the plugging away that will win you the day,
So don't be a piker, old pard!
Just draw on your grit; it's so easy to quit:
It's the keeping-your-chin-up that's hard.
It's easy to cry that you're beaten -- and die;
It's easy to crawfish and crawl;
But to fight and to fight when hope's out of sight --
Why, that's the best game of them all!
And though you come out of each gruelling bout,
All broken and beaten and scarred,
Just have one more try -- it's dead easy to die,
It's the keeping-on-living that's hard.

From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remembered-
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition;
And gentlemen in England now-a-bed
Shall think themselves accurs'd they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day.
--William Shakespeare, Henry V

Great video! I loved hearing Nicole's thoughts about managing the workout at the end of the video. I love seeing the CF superstars grind out a WOD. It is very motivating!

Code of the Citizen Soldier
Tyrtaeus - 6th Century Spartan soldier and poet

I would not say anything for a man nor take account of him
For any speed of his feet or wrestling skill he might have,
not if he had the size of a Cyclops and strength to go with it.
Not if he could outrun Boreas, the North Wind of Thrace,
not if he were more handsome and gracefully formed than Tithonos,
or had more riches than Midas had, or Kinyras too,
not if he were more a king than Tantalid Pelops,
or had the power of speech and persuasion Adrastos had,
not if he had all splendours except for a fighting spirit.
For no man ever proves himself a good man in war
Unless he can endure to face the blood and the slaughter,
go close against the enemy and fight with his hands.
Here is courage, mankind’s finest possession,
here is the noblest prize that a young man can endeavour to win,
and it is a good thing his polis and all the people share with him when a man plants his feet and stands in the foremost spears relentlessly,
all thought of foul flight completely forgotten,
and has trained his heart to be steadfast and to endure,
and with his words encourages the man who is stationed beside him.
Here is a man who proves himself to be valiant in war.
With a sudden rush he turns to flight the rugged battalions of the enemy,
and sustains the beating waves of assault.And he who so falls among the champions and loses his sweet life,
so blesses with honour his polis, his father,
and all his people,with wounds in his chest,
where the spear that he was facing has transfixed that massive guard of his shield,
and gone though his breastplate as well,
Why such a man is lamented alike by the young and the elders,
and all his polis goes into mourning and grieves for his loss,
His tomb is pointed out with pride,
and so are his children,and his children’s children,
and afterwards all the race that is his.
His shining glory is never forgotten,
his name is remembered,and he becomes immortal,
though he lies under the ground,
when one who was a brave man has been killed by the furious War Godstanding his ground and fighting hard for his children and land.
But if he escapes the doom of death, the destroyer of bodies, and wins his battle,
and bright renown for the work of his spear,all men give place to him, the youth and the elders,
and much joy comes his way before he goes down to the dead.
Aging he has reputation among his citizens.
No one tries to interfere with his honours or all he deserves;
All men withdraw before his presence,
and yield their seats to him,
the youth, and the men of age,
and even those older than he.
Thus a man should endeavour to reach this high place of courage with all his heart, and, so trying, never be backward in war.

Man, all my favorite poems were already claimed. "If" by Kipling, "Invictus" by Henly, and "Charge of the Light Brigade" by Tennyson. So hopefully this few haven't been posted yet.

You cannot choose your battlefield
God does that for you
But you can plant a standard
Where a standard never flew.
Stephen Crane " The Colors"

He has outsoared the shadow of our night;
Envy and calumny and hate and pain,
And that unrest which men miscall delight,
Can touch him not and torture not again;
From the contagion of the world's slow stain
He is secure, and now can never mourn
A heart grown cold, a head grown grey in vain;
Nor, when the spirit's self has ceased to burn,
With sparkless ashes load an unlamented urn. – Shelly’s Adonais

I HAVE LIVED TO-DAY
By John Dryden
Happy that man, and happy he alone,
He who can call to-day his own;
He who, secure within, can say,
To-morrow do thy worst, for I have lived to-day.
Be fair, or foul, or rain, or shine,
The joys I have possessed, in spite of fate, are mine.
Not heaven itself upon the past has power;
But what has been, has been, and I have had my hour.

TO THE VIRGINS, TO MAKE MUCH OF TIME.
by Robert Herrick

GATHER ye rosebuds while ye may,
Old time is still a-flying :
And this same flower that smiles to-day
To-morrow will be dying.

The glorious lamp of heaven, the sun,
The higher he's a-getting,
The sooner will his race be run,
And nearer he's to setting.

That age is best which is the first,
When youth and blood are warmer ;
But being spent, the worse, and worst
Times still succeed the former.

Then be not coy, but use your time,
And while ye may go marry :
For having lost but once your prime
You may for ever tarry.

In reference to a quote in Fight Club:

When I am really struggling with a WOD :-

"I close my eyes and try to find my power animal"

Geez, it sounded better in my head, just looks plain stupid written down. Sorry. Promise to do better next time.

nicole, you are so incredible. I am inspired by you always.
btw freddy, i was cheering her on out loud to myself... we are dorks.

DL: 165
Bench: 140
Clean: 125
41 Minutes

So when do we get to see you do Nicole, Nicole?

Alone

From childhood's hour I have not been
As others were; I have not seen
As others saw; I could not bring
My passions from a common spring.
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow; I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone;
And all I loved, I loved alone.
Then- in my childhood, in the dawn
Of a most stormy life- was drawn
From every depth of good and ill
The mystery which binds me still:
From the torrent, or the fountain,
From the red cliff of the mountain,
From the sun that round me rolled
In its autumn tint of gold,
From the lightning in the sky
As it passed me flying by,
From the thunder and the storm,
And the cloud that took the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view.

Edgar Allan Poe

Yesterday attended my first Crossfit seminar on olympic lifting. Hosted by Andrew Stemler in East London. A fun and informative evening. Thought I had a great squat, now I know different. Todays rest day will be a practice day. Thanks again I learnt so much about correct lifting and cats!

Nicole, that was awesome!

But, keep your feet on the ground during the bench press and drive with the legs when you push - just like everything else we do. Easier said than done, but it will add a ton of power to your bench!

After Our War

After our war, the dismembered bits
- all those pierced eyes, ears slivers, jaw splinters,
gouged lips, odd tibias, skin flaps, and toes -
came squinting, wobbling, jabbering back.
The genitals, of course, were the most bizarre,
inching along roads like glowworms and slugs.
The living wanted them back but good as new.
The dead, of course, had no use for them.
And the ghosts, the tens of thousands of abandoned souls
who had appeared like swamp fog in the city streets,
on the evening altars, and on doorsills of cratered homes,
also had no use for the scraps and bits
because, in their opinion, they looked good without them.
Since all things naturally return to their source,
these snags and tatters arrived, with immigrant uncertainty,
in the United States. It was almost home.
So, now, one can sometimes see a friend or a famous man talking
with an extra pair of lips glued and yammering on his cheek,
and this is why handshakes are often unpleasant,
why it is better, sometimes, not to look another in the eye,
why, at your daughter's breast thickens a hard keloidal scar.
After the war, with such Cheshire cats grinning in our trees,
will the ancient tales still tell us new truths?
Will the myriad world surrender new metaphor?
After our war, how will love speak?

John Balaban

The Way I See It
I hear the desperate cries of America.
I hear the agonizing whimpers of single mothers living on welfare.
I hear the sorrow-filled cries of the fatherless children.
I hear the penitence in voices of people with vanquished dreams.
I see the learned habits of helplessness in abused and battered wives.
But just because I see the pain dictating America's lives
Doesn't mean I have to let it control mine.
Just because I see the failures of America doesn't mean I have to.
I see the faint light in all the darkness.
I fathom that I can't control the winds, but I do commandeer my vessel.
I see clearly that every day is a gift from God,
And what I conceive from it gives birth to my destiny!
Jeff Haugland

Fail to prepare, prepare to fail.

Great video Nicole! Great job! Thank goodness Nicole is 3000 miles away...man I am in love with that grl! Well, not really in love inlove....okay, yes I am! LOL!

~J~
~Train Hard or Stay the F$#@ Home!~

Can't believe no ones posted "Dane Geld" yet, so here it is. Written between A.D. 980-1016, it still holds true.

It is always a temptation to an armed and agile nation
To call upon a neighbour and to say: --
"We invaded you last night--we are quite prepared to fight,
Unless you pay us cash to go away."

And that is called asking for Dane-geld,
And the people who ask it explain
That you've only to pay 'em the Dane-geld
And then you'll get rid of the Dane!

It is always a temptation for a rich and lazy nation,
To puff and look important and to say: --
"Though we know we should defeat you, we have not the time to meet you.
We will therefore pay you cash to go away."

And that is called paying the Dane-geld;
But we've proved it again and again,
That if once you have paid him the Dane-geld
You never get rid of the Dane.

It is wrong to put temptation in the path of any nation,
For fear they should succumb and go astray;
So when you are requested to pay up or be molested,
You will find it better policy to say: --

"We never pay any-one Dane-geld,
No matter how trifling the cost;
For the end of that game is oppression and shame,
And the nation that pays it is lost!"

Did Linda today as i as sick yesterday.

As rx'd for me was:
DL-120kg
Clean-60kg
Bench-80kg

Didn't manage as Rx'd. Did:
DL-105kg
Clean-60kg
Benched-60kg

For some reason i screwed up a bit and did Clean and jerk....Supposed to do just a clean!
Didn't realise till i logged on just now, but still it was a good workout.

Had to do incline bench press was taken at gym by some guys that do noting but bench press and bicep curls!
Could have managed 80kg, but i was alone an didn't want to get into any trouble.

Time 31 mins. Got huge blisters on my thumbs from the C+J, and am shaking as i type this...wow!

wow... Nicole...amazing, again. She rocks. I wanna be like her when I grow up.

THE MASTER OF THE CARAVAN :
But who are ye in rags and rotten shoes,
You dirty-bearded, blocking up the way?

THE PILGRIMS :
We are the Pilgrims, master; we shall go
Always a little further: it may be
Beyond the last blue mountain barred with snow,
Across that angry or that glimmering sea,
White on a throne or guarded in a cave
There lives a prophet who can understand
Why men were born: but surely we are brave,
Who make the Golden Journey to Samarkand.

-----------------------------------------------

ISHAK:
We travel not for trafficking alone;
By hotter winds our fiery hearts are fanned:
For lust of knowing what should not be known
We take the Golden Road to Samarkand

Forgot to credit the author:

The Golden Journey to Samarkand
James Elroy FLECKER
1884-1915

Nicole is THE hottest CF girl (triple exclamation point) Thanks for the photo and the video.

Footprints in the Sand by Mary Stevenson

One night a man had a dream. He dreamed he was
walking along the beach with the Lord. Across the
sky flashed scenes from his life. For each scene, he noticed two sets of footprints in the sand: one belonging to him, and the other to the Lord. When the last scene of his life flashed before him, he looked back at the footprints in the sand. He noticed that many times along the path of his life there was only one set of footprints. He also noticed that it happened at the very lowest and saddest times in his life. This really bothered him and he questioned the Lord about it. "Lord, You said that
once I decided to follow you, You'd walk with me all the way. But I have noticed that during the most troublesome times in my life, there is only one set of footprints. I don't understand why when I needed you most you would leave me." The Lord replied, "My son, My precious child, I love you and I would never leave you. During your times of trial and suffering, when you see only one set of footprints, it was then that I Carried You."

Easter 1916 - William Butler Yeats

I HAVE met them at close of day
Coming with vivid faces
From counter or desk among grey
Eighteenth-century houses.
I have passed with a nod of the head
Or polite meaningless words,
Or have lingered awhile and said
Polite meaningless words,
And thought before I had done
Of a mocking tale or a gibe
To please a companion
Around the fire at the club,
Being certain that they and I
But lived where motley is worn:
All changed, changed utterly:
A terrible beauty is born.

That woman's days were spent
In ignorant good-will,
Her nights in argument
Until her voice grew shrill.
What voice more sweet than hers
When, young and beautiful,
She rode to harriers?
This man had kept a school
And rode our winged horse;
This other his helper and friend
Was coming into his force;
He might have won fame in the end,
So sensitive his nature seemed,
So daring and sweet his thought.
This other man I had dreamed
A drunken, vainglorious lout.
He had done most bitter wrong
To some who are near my heart,
Yet I number him in the song;
He, too, has resigned his part
In the casual comedy;
He, too, has been changed in his turn,
Transformed utterly:
A terrible beauty is born.

Hearts with one purpose alone
Through summer and winter seem
Enchanted to a stone
To trouble the living stream.
The horse that comes from the road.
The rider, the birds that range
From cloud to tumbling cloud,
Minute by minute they change;
A shadow of cloud on the stream
Changes minute by minute;
A horse-hoof slides on the brim,
And a horse plashes within it;
The long-legged moor-hens dive,
And hens to moor-cocks call;
Minute by minute they live:
The stone's in the midst of all.

Too long a sacrifice
Can make a stone of the heart.
O when may it suffice?
That is Heaven's part, our part
To murmur name upon name,
As a mother names her child
When sleep at last has come
On limbs that had run wild.
What is it but nightfall?
No, no, not night but death;
Was it needless death after all?
For England may keep faith
For all that is done and said.
We know their dream; enough
To know they dreamed and are dead;
And what if excess of love
Bewildered them till they died?
I write it out in a verse -
MacDonagh and MacBride
And Connolly and Pearse
Now and in time to be,
Wherever green is worn,
Are changed, changed utterly:
A terrible beauty is born.

#43 so true and so sad

M/22/6'1"/185

Great job Nicole, effin badass

Taylor Mali - What do Teachers Really Make?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hw1MFobWD_o

By the way...
All the poems above are fantastic. I might have to use them in class.

“To be nobody but yourself in a world that's doing its best to make you somebody else, is to fight the hardest battle you are ever going to fight. Never stop fighting.”

EE Cummings

Live each day as though it were your last; one day you're sure to be right!

H.H. 'Breaker' Morant

I was just saying yesterday that I would like to see a Linda video. Now that I have seen it I am a bit ashamed since Nicole lifted the same if not more weight than I did...and much faster. Great job Nicole! Your prowess inspires me to work harder.

Lots of great poetry today. Thanks to everyone.

Hotel Room WOD

10-9-8-7-6-5-4-3-2-1 reps of:
hspu
box jump
push up 2X reps - 20-18-16-14 etc
sit up 2X reps

15:38

Seven Stanzas written at Easter

Make no mistake: if He rose at all
it was as His body;
if the cells’ dissolution did not reverse, the molecules
reknit, the amino acids rekindle,
the Church will fall.

It was not as the flowers,
each soft Spring recurrent;
it was not as His Spirit in the mouths and fuddled
eyes of the eleven apostles;
it was as His flesh: ours.

The same hinged thumbs and toes,
the same valved heart
that–pierced–died, withered, paused, and then
regathered out of enduring Might
new strength to enclose.

Let us not mock God with metaphor,
analogy, sidestepping, transcendence;
making of the event a parable, a sign painted in the
faded credulity of earlier ages:
let us walk through the door.

The stone is rolled back, not papier-mâché,
not a stone in a story,
but the vast rock of materiality that in the slow
grinding of time will eclipse for each of us
the wide light of day.

And if we will have an angel at the tomb,
make it a real angel,
weighty with Max Planck’s quanta, vivid with hair,
opaque in the dawn light, robed in real linen
spun on a definite loom.

Let us not seek to make it less monstrous,
for our own convenience, our own sense of beauty,
lest, awakened in one unthinkable hour, we are
embarrassed by the miracle,
and crushed by remonstrance.

John Updike

Keep your blood clean, your body lean, and your mind sharp.
Henry Rollins

“But war, in a good cause, is not the greatest evil which a nation can suffer. War is an ugly thing, but not the ugliest of things: the decayed and degraded state of moral and patriotic feeling which thinks nothing worth a war, is worse. When a people are used as mere human instruments for firing cannon or thrusting bayonets, in the service and for the selfish purposes of a master, such war degrades a people. A war to protect other human beings against tyrannical injustice – a war to give victory to their own ideas of right and good, and which is their own war, carried on for an honest purpose by their free choice – is often the means of their regeneration. A man who has nothing which he is willing to fight for, nothing which he cares more about than he does about his personal safety, is a miserable creature who has no chance of being free, unless made and kept so by the exertions of better men than himself. As long as justice and injustice have not terminated their ever-renewing fight for ascendancy in the affairs of mankind, human beings must be willing, when need is, to do battle for the one against the other.”

John Stuart Mill
English economist & philosopher (1806 - 1873)

Thanks for the video, clarifies the clean for me (still learning the movement).

CrossFit HQ recycles? Buncha hippies.

32 m 190

Did Linda today, took yesterday off.

as rx'd
all sets unbroken

DL: 285
BP: 190
Cle: 140

24:55
PR by over 14 minutes! I am so so stoked...and tapped!

Bride is havin suregery in 2 hours, so I'm out! Everyone have a great day!

~J~
~Train Hard or Stay the F$#@ Home!~

The northern mountain is hidden in white cloud,
A happy place for hermits to retire.
So we can meet, I try to climb the heights,
My heart is fading like a goose in flight.
My sorrow's prompted by the creeping dusk,
But then clear autumn spurs on my desires.
At length we see the villagers return,
They walk the sand and rest at the river crossing.
The trees against the sky are like shepherd's purse,
An islet by the shore just like the moon.
I hope you have some wine to celebrate,
We'll spend the autumn festival drunk together.

-To Zhang, Climbing Orchid Mountain on an Autumn Day
-Meng Haoran

Nicole perfectly represents my feelings about Linda: After the fist set of 10's "I don't want to do this anymore."

But that is the exact reason I end up finishing it.

*************************************

JUST ASK -Sandra Lytle

SOME DAYS WE WALK A LONELY PATH
with teardrops in our eyes,
caught up in the worries of the day
before we realize
that GOD is there to share the load
no matter what the task.
The weight is eased when shared by two
all we need to do is ASK.

************************************

James 1: 2, 4 & 12

"Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverence. Perseverence must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything. Blessed is the man who perseveres under trial, because when he has stood the test, he will receive the crown of life that God has promised to those who love him."

*************************************

From Frank Herbert's DUNE:
"I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain."
Bene Gesserit Litany Against Fear.

Maybe not my fave, but a goodie.

I don't know which video impressed me more - Nicole's OHS video, showing her go through failures until she ultimately succeeds or this Linda video...

Who am I kidding?

This video of you doing Linda absolutely rocked!

Nicole - you are an inspiration to all of us out here in CrossFit land!

Keep up the GREAT work!

"A boy's will is the winds will and the thoughts of youth are long long thoughts." - Longfellow

totally B.A....what an inspiration.

Hi, I am fairly new to Crossfit (Sept'07) and am really enjoying it. I have a question for the more experienced folks out there. Is it better to do the WOD as prescribed and take longer or lighten the loads and do it fast. This is primarily an issue with workouts like "Linda". I take way longer to do the workouts than some of the times posted. I can manage the weights without any difficulty, but it takes some recovery time between sets. I should mention that I generally am doing the WOD after running 4-6 miles

#198 Form, Intensity, Weight

To juanmurphy,
A great set of instructions to live by. I carry that same set of morals around with me and read them every morning.
I served with Zembiec with 1st Battalion 6th Marines. and he truly was an amazing individual.
Semper Fidelis

May I suggest an additional link (w/f safe): http://www.loc.gov/poetry/180/

It's designed for High School classrooms, but has some very good contemporary poetry. The poem below is untitled, but is one of my students' favorites. Therefore, for them:

Once on a yellow piece of paper with green lines
he wrote a poem
And he called it "Chops"
because that was the name of his dog
And that's what it was all about
And his teacher gave him an A
and a gold star
And his mother hung it on the kitchen door
and read it to his aunts
That was the year that Father Tracy
took all the kids to the zoo
And he let them sing on the bus
And his little sister was born
with tiny toenails and no hair
And his mother and father kissed a lot
And the girl around the corner sent him a
valentine signed with a row of X's
and he had to ask his father what the X's meant
And his father always tucked him in bed at night
And was always there to do it

Once on a piece of white paper with blue lines
he wrote a poem
And he called it "Autumn"
because that was the name of the season
And that's what it was all about
And his teacher gave him an A
and asked him to write more clearly
And his mother never hung it on the kitchen door
because of its new paint
And the kids told him
that Father Tracy smoked cigars
And left butts on the pews
And sometimes they would burn holes
That was the year his sister got glasses
with thick lenses and black frames
And the girl around the corner laughed
when he asked her to go see Santa Claus
And the kids told him why
his mother and father kissed a lot
And his father never tucked him in bed at night
And his father got mad
when he cried for him to do it.

Once on a paper torn from his notebook
he wrote a poem
And he called it "Innocence: A Question"
because that was the question about his girl
And that's what it was all about
And his professor gave him an A
and a strange steady look
And his mother never hung it on the kitchen door
because he never showed her
That was the year that Father Tracy died
And he forgot how the end
of the Apostle's Creed went
And he caught his sister making out on the back porch
And his mother and father never kissed
or even talked
And the girl around the corner
wore too much makeup
That made him cough when he kissed her
but he kissed her anyway
because that was the thing to do
And at three A.M. he tucked himself into bed
his father snoring soundly

That's why on the back of a brown paper bag
he tried another poem
And he called it "Absolutely Nothing"
Because that's what it was really all about
And he gave himself an A
and a slash on each damned wrist
And he hung it on the bathroom door
because this time he didn't think
he could reach the kitchen.

-poem from the book The Perks of Being a Wallflower

nicole is absolutely the most incredible woman when it comes to strength and endurance.

"Law for the Wolves" from the Jungle Book
Rudyard Kipling

Now this is the law of the jungle,
As old and as true as the sky,
And the wolf that shall keep it may prosper,
But the wolf that shall break it must die.

As the creeper that girdles the tree trunk,
The law runneth forward and back;
For the strength of the pack is the wolf,
And the strength of the wolf is the pack.

#38 Tad: My dad, (also a Marine) encouraged me to memorized Tommy when I was younger, and I still know it all today. You made my day.

william wallace braveheart

"I am William Wallace. And I see a whole army of my countrymen,
here in defiance of tyranny! You have come to fight as free men. And
free man you are! What will you do without freedom? Will you fight?"
"Two thousand against ten?" - the veteran shouted. "No! We will
run - and live!"
"Yes!" Wallace shouted back. "Fight and you may die. Run and you
will live at least awhile. And dying in your bed many years from now,
would you be willing to trade all the days from this day to that for
one chance, just one cahnce, to come back here as young men and tell
our enemies that they may take our lives but they will never take
our freedom!"

Nicole is completely amazing!

In all honesty, I never read much poetry, but this one always stuck with me. I also like the odd visual aspect to it.

"She Being Brand"
ee cummings

she being Brand

-new;and you
know consequently a
little stiff i was
careful of her and(having

thoroughly oiled the universal
joint tested my gas felt of
her radiator made sure her springs were O.

K.)i went right to it flooded-the-carburetor cranked her

up,slipped the
clutch(and then somehow got into reverse she
kicked what
the hell)next
minute i was back in neutral tried and

again slo-wly;bare,ly nudg. ing (my

lev-er Right-
oh and her gears being in
A 1 shape passed
from low through
second-in-to-high like
grasedlightning)just as we turned the corner of Divinity

avenue i touched the accelerator and give

her the juice,good

(it

was the first ride and believe i we was
happy to see how nice she acted right up to
the last minute coming back down by the Public
Gardens i slammed on

the
internalexpanding
&
externalcontracting
brakes Bothatonce and

brought allofher tremB
-ling
to a:dead.

stand-
;Still)

ALL IS FULL OF LOVE
written by Björk

You'll be given love
you'll be taken care of
you'll be given love
you have to trust it

Maybe not from the sources
you have poured yours

Maybe not from the directions
you are staring at

Trust your head around
it's all around you
all is full of love
all around you

All is full of love : you just ain't receiving
All is full of love : your phone is off the hook
All is full of love : your doors are all shut

All is full of love

I wrote this last poem day...

3 Bars of Death, a Haiku

Curse my bodyweight
I scale and yet still struggle
The pain feels so good

Brett Tom, 2006

Nicole-
Awesome job on Linda. Thank you for sharing the video and your thoughts.

Colleen-
Thanks for posting your poem. I added it to my collection.

I Carry Your Heart With Me

i carry your heart with me (i carry it in my heart)
i am never without it (anywhere i go you go, my dear; and whatever is done by only me is your doing, my darling)
i fear no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet)
i want no world (for beautiful you are my world, my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart)

-ee cumming-

Kate

Great Demo….the best part, aside from the fantastic display of athleticism, power, and drive, was Nicole’s analysis of her own workout, and person challenges. All the CF coaches display an all-inspiring drive for personal perfection & excellence.

“You gain strength, courage and confidence from every experience in which you really
stop to look fear in the face . . . You must do the thing you think you cannot do.”
Eleanor Roosevelt (1884 - 1962. Former first lady)

Now this is the Law of the jungle
As old and as true as the sky
The wolf that shall keep may prosper
The wolf that shall break it must die

As the creeper girdles the tree trunk
The law runneth forward and back
The strength of the pack is the wolf
And the strength of the wolf is the pack

-Kipling

Perhaps cliche but I love it

Rock-and-Roll Nicole! (P.S. someone teach me about "breaks" and management. I didn't understand what she was saying about starting too soon, etc.)

The Thousandth Man by Rudyard Kipling

One man in a thousand, Solomon says,
Will stick more close than a brother.
And it's worth while seeking him half your days
If you find him before the other.
Nine nundred and ninety-nine depend
On what the world sees in you,
But the Thousandth man will stand your friend
With the whole round world agin you.

'Tis neither promise nor prayer nor show
Will settle the finding for 'ee.
Nine hundred and ninety-nine of 'em go
By your looks, or your acts, or your glory.
But if he finds you and you find him.
The rest of the world don't matter;
For the Thousandth Man will sink or swim
With you in any water.

You can use his purse with no more talk
Than he uses yours for his spendings,
And laugh and meet in your daily walk
As though there had been no lendings.
Nine hundred and ninety-nine of 'em call
For silver and gold in their dealings;
But the Thousandth Man h's worth 'em all,
Because you can show him your feelings.

His wrong's your wrong, and his right's your right,
In season or out of season.
Stand up and back it in all men's sight --
With that for your only reason!
Nine hundred and ninety-nine can't bide
The shame or mocking or laughter,
But the Thousandth Man will stand by your side
To the gallows-foot -- and after!

1 Corinthians 9:24-27(Amplified Bible translation)

24Do you not know that in a race all the runners compete, but [only] one receives the prize? So run [your race] that you may lay hold [of the prize] and make it yours.
25Now every athlete who goes into training conducts himself temperately and restricts himself in all things. They do it to win a wreath that will soon wither, but we [do it to receive a crown of eternal blessedness] that cannot wither.
26Therefore I do not run uncertainly (without definite aim). I do not box like one beating the air and striking without an adversary.
27But [like a boxer] I buffet my body [handle it roughly, discipline it by hardships] and subdue it, for fear that after proclaiming to others the Gospel and things pertaining to it, I myself should become unfit [not stand the test, be unapproved and rejected as a counterfeit].

Nicole doing Linda was absolutely amazing. Her ability to recoop so quickly on such a heavy bench just floored me. I had the same problem with mine (30:35), but it took me much longer to reset myelf after failing or between rounds. absolutely awesome.

The deadlifts were something interesting. I have been focusing on not closing my hips until I have extended my back at nearly the same rate. Is Nicole closing her hips to early on this lift. She is a master at this and I want to know if this is expected, acceptable, or just an allowance given this athlete's ability in conjunction with the demands of the workout.

Dream Deferred

What happens to a dream deferred?
Does it dry up
Like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore--
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over--
like a syrupy sweet?
Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.
Or does it explode?

TANTO GENTILE E TANTO ONESTA PARE

Tanto gentile e tanto onesta pare
la donna mia, quand' ella altrui saluta,
ch' ogne lingua deven tremando muta,
e gli occhi no l' ardiscon di guardare.

Ella si va, sentendosi laudare,
benignamente e d'umiltà vestuta;
e par che sia una cosa venuta
dal cielo in terra a miracol mostrare.

Mostrasi sí piacente a chi la mira,
che dà per li occhi una dolcezza al core,
che 'ntender nolla può chi nolla prova.

E par che de la sua labbia si mova
un spirito soave pien d'amore,
che va dicendo a l' anima: Sospira.

Dante Alighieri

MY LADY LOOKS SO GENTLE AND SO PURE
Dante Alighieri
tr. Dante Gabriel Rossetti

My lady looks so gentle and so pure
When yielding salutation by the way,
That the tongue trembles and has naught to say,
And the eyes, which fain would see, may not endure.

And still, amid the praise she hears secure
She walks with humbleness for her array;
Seeming a creature sent from Heaven to stay
On earth, and show a miracle made sure.

She is so pleasant in the eyes of men
That through the sight the inmost heart doth gain
A sweetness which needs proof to know it by:

And from between her lips there seems to move
A soothing essence that is full of love,
Saying for ever to the spirit, "Sigh!"

I'd love to put "The Raven" by Edgar Allan Poe, but it's quite long, so I'll go with "To ---" which is also by Poe.

"To ---"

I heed not that my earthly lot
Hath little of Earth in it
That years of love have been forgot
In the hatred of a minute:
I mourn not that the desolate
Are happier, sweet, than I,
But that you sorrow for my fate
Who am a passer-by.

"Schism" by Tool/ Maynard James Keenan

know the pieces fit
'Cause I watched them fall away
Mildewed and smouldering
Fundamental differing
Pure intention juxtaposed
Will set two lovers' souls in motion
Disintegrating as it goes
Testing our communication
The light that feuled our fire then
Has a burned a hole between us so
We cannot see to reach an end
Crippling our communication

I know the pieces fit
'Cause I watched them tumble down
No fault, none to blame
It doesn't mean I don't desire to
Point the finger, blame the other
Watch the temple topple over
To bring the pieces back together
Rediscover communication

The poetry
That comes from the squaring off between
And the circling is worth it
Finding beauty in the dissonance

There was a time that the pieces fit
But I watched them fall away
Mildewed and smouldering
Strangled by our coveting
I've done the math enough to know
The dangers of our second guessing
Doomed to crumble unless we grow
And strengthen our communication

Cold silence has
A tendency to
Atrophy any
Sense of compassion
Between supposed lovers
Between supposed lovers

I know the pieces fit

Thanks for all the great poems. Glad to see some of my favorites on here. Especially "Do Not Go Gentle into the Good Night."

Lateralus
Tool

Black then white are all I see in my infancy.
red and yellow then came to be, reaching out to me.
lets me see.
As below, so above and beyond, I imagine
drawn beyond the lines of reason.
Push the envelope. Watch it bend.

Over thinking, over analyzing separates the body from the mind.
Withering my intuition, missing opportunities and I must
Feed my will to feel my moment drawing way outside the lines.

Black then white are all I see in my infancy.
red and yellow then came to be, reaching out to me.
lets me see there is so much more
and beckons me to look through to these infinite possibilities.
As below, so above and beyond, I imagine
drawn outside the lines of reason.
Push the envelope. Watch it bend.

Over thinking, over analyzing separates the body from the mind.
Withering my intuition leaving all these opportunities behind.

Feed my will to feel this moment urging me to cross the line.
Reaching out to embrace the random.
Reaching out to embrace whatever may come.

I embrace my desire to
feel the rhythm, to feel connected
enough to step aside and weep like a widow
to feel inspired, to fathom the power,
to witness the beauty, to bathe in the fountain,
to swing on the spiral
of our divinity and still be a human.

With my feet upon the ground I lose myself
between the sounds and open wide to suck it in,
I feel it move across my skin.
I'm reaching up and reaching out,
I'm reaching for the random or what ever will bewilder me.
And following our will and wind we may just go where no one's been.
We'll ride the spiral to the end and may just go where no one's been.

Spiral out. Keep going, going...

Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half-light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly, because you tread on my dreams.

-- William Butler Yeats

This is as much about love for another as it is about love for oneself.

To the Marines of VMFA 533

"Ghosts of Kuwait"

We have gold dust settling on the horizon,
As this cool wind lays down.
Cloud-laced half moon whispers dream to the fallen,
For they hang their spirits on walls like old rifles now.
Their fierce hearts found rest in Valhalla, beneath true gunfire,
Yet they march on through misted times and Kuwaiti sands.
Pledging allegiance of life to memory singing songs of warriors dance and beating drums with bloodied hands.
Here we walk beside them, to join them with their brethren, killing what obligation was left astray.
Having brought hell from the skies and thunder from the South, we lay them down, slay their god then turn and walk away.

#37 Gin Crazed, my favorite too, beat me to it. Awesome job Nicole. I'll agree that it is inspiring to see the elite "monsters" struggle and persevere

Here, root yourselves beside me.
I am that Tree planted by the River,
I, the Rock, I, the River, I, the Tree,
I am yours-your passages have been paid.
Lift up your faces, you have a piercing need
For this bright morning dawning for you.
History, despite its wrenching pain,
Cannot be unlived, but if faced
With courage, need not be lived again.

Lift up your eyes
Upon this day breaking for you.
Give birth again
To the dream.

Women, children, men,
Take it into the palms of your hands,
Mold it nto the shape of your most
Private need. Sculpt it into
The image of your most public self.
Lift up your hearts.
Each new hour holds new chances
For a new beginning.
Do not be wedded forever
To fear, yoked eternally
To brutishness.

The horizon leans forward,
Offering you space
To place new steps of change.
Here, on the pulse of this fine day,
You may have the courage
To look up and out and upon me,
The Rock, the River, the Tree, your country.
No less to Midas than the mendicant.
No less to you now than the mastodon then.

Here, on the pulse of this new day,
You may have the grace to look up and out
And into your sister's eyes,
And into your brother's face,
Your country,
And say simply
Very simply
With hope-
Good morning.
-Maya Angelou, excerpted from "On the Pulse of Morning."

i'm a fan of wilfred owen:

Anthem for Doomed Youth

What passing-bells for these who die as cattle?
Only the monstrous anger of the guns.
Only the stuttering rifles' rapid rattle
Can patter out their hasty orisons.
No mockeries now for them; no prayers nor bells;
Nor any voice of mourning save the choirs,
The shrill, demented choirs of wailing shells;
And bugles calling for them from sad shires.
What candles may be held to speed them all?
Not in the hands of boys, but in their eyes
Shall shine the holy glimmers of good-byes.
The pallor of girls' brows shall be their pall;
Their flowers the tenderness of patient minds,
And each slow dusk a drawing-down of blinds.

and this one always made me laugh:

haikus are easy,
but sometimes they don't make sense,
refrigerator

Nicole, you have inspired us all to greatness but as much as I want to tackle linda again, lets not do it tomorrow!
My traps, back, glutes, hams chest and tris are killing me.
:)

Fighting soldiers from the sky
Fearless men who jump and die
Men who mean just what they say
The brave men of the Green Berets

Silver wings upon their chests
These are men, America's best
One hundred men will test today
But only three win the Green Beret

Trained to live off nature's land
Trained to combat hand-to-hand
Men who fight by night and day
Courage taken from the Green Beret

Silver wings upon their chests
These are men, America's best
One hundred men will test today
But only three win the Green Beret

Back at home a young wifee waits
Her Green Beret has met his fate
He has died for those oppressed
Leaving her this last request

Put silver wings on my son's chest
Make him one of America's best
He'll be a man they'll test one day
Have him win the Green Beret

From the FCA Competitor's Creed:

I am a Competitor now and forever.
I am made to strive, to strain,
to stretch and to succeed
in the arena of competition.
I am a Christian Competitor
and as such, I face my challenger
with the face of Christ.

I do not trust in myself.
I do not boast in my abilities
or believe in my own strength.
I rely solely on the power of God.
I compete for the pleasure of
my Heavenly Father, the honor of Christ
and the reputation of the Holy Spirit.

My attitude on and off
the field is above reproach -
my conduct beyond criticism.
Whether I am preparing,
practicing or playing;
I submit to God's authority
and those He has put over me.
I respect my coaches, officials,
teammates and competitors
out of respect for the Lord.

My body is the temple of Jesus Christ.
I protect it from within and without.
Nothing enters my body that
does not honor the Living God.
My sweat is an offering to my Master.
My soreness is a sacrifice to my Savior.

I give my all - all of the time.
I do not give up. I do not give in.
I do not give out. I am the Lord’s warrior -
a competitor by conviction
and a disciple of determination.
I am confident beyond reason
because my confidence lies in Christ.
The results of my efforts
must result in His glory.

LET THE COMPETITION BEGIN.
LET THE GLORY BE GOD'S.

mr youse needn't be so spry
concernin questions arty

each has his tastes but as for i
i likes a certain party

gimme the he-man's solid bliss
for youse ideas i'll match youse

a pretty girl who naked is
is worth a million statues

-ee cummings

"I'm gonna do this."
-Nicole

Poetry in Motion

Great job.

Totally off-topic, but I saw this ad for the Royal Marines and immediately thought about CrossFit. So a rest day seemed a good time to post it.

99.9% Need Not Apply:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IUcaM_0ztbM&eurl=http://www.op-for.com/

As for poetry, I'd like to post one of my own (I used to be fairly prolific), but I will be on the road until Thanksgiving. So instead, y'all get a cool vid.

my favorite poem is Dylan Thomas Do not go gentle into that good night

Every time I hear Rage against the dying of the light. I get goose bumps. In my mind I hear. get up! get up! don't quit! survive! One more step, one more step! one more mile! move! move! live! never surrender.

"Those who are willing to give up a little liberty for a little security, will deserve neither and loose both." Benjamin Franklin

I am loving CrossFit just starting out and it is kicking my butt!

'for any ruffian of the sky
your kingbird doesn't give a damn -
his royal warcry is I AM
and he's the soul of chivalry

in terror of whose beak
(as sweetly singing creatures know
cringes the hugest heartless hawk
and veers the vast most crafty crow

your kingbird doesn't give a damn
for murderers of high estate
whose mongrel creed is Might Makes Right
- his royal warcry is I AM

true to his mate his chicks his friends
he loves because he cannot fear
(you see it in the way he stands
and looks and leaps upon the air)'

-ee cummings

A Love Poem
To Artina by Langston Hughes

I will take your heart
I will take your soul out of your body
As though I were God
I will not be satisfied
With the little words you say to me
I will not be satisfied
With the touch of your hand
Nor the sweet of your lips alone
I will take your heart for mine
I will take your soul for mine
I will be God when it comes to you

2nd wk of crossfit, good stuff, a little sore, but good stuff

This one is for 2LT Mark Daily, KIA JAN '07

Your son, my lord, has paid a soldier's debt;
He only lived but till he was a man;
The which no sooner had his prowess confirm'd
In the unshrinking station where he fought,
But like a man he died.
Your cause of sorrow
Must not be measured by his worth, for then
It hath no end.

Paul Lawrence Dunbar

We wear the mask that grins and lies,
It hides our cheeks and shades our eyes--
This debt we pay to human guile;
With torn and bleeding hearts we smile,
And mouth with myriad subtleties.

With should the world be over-wise,
In counting all our tears and sighs?
Nay, let them only see us, while
We wear the mask.

We smile, but, O great Christ, our cries
To thee from tortured souls arise.
We sing, but oh the clay is vile
Beneath our feet, and long the mile;
But let the world dream otherwise,
We wear the mask!

by the way, the www.poetry.com site is a fraud if you ever intend to enter into their poetry contests. No matter what you send in, they will think its amazing and tell you its going to be published and YOU TOO can own a book with your poetry in it for only $50. It's a scam and you should be wary of any "publishing company" that accepts your work and then gives you an order form so you too can buy the book for an outrageous price. If you are interested in getting something published, go to a reputable publisher.

great job nicole! Very inspirational!! Now I'm psyched up for that routine today. I'm always a day behind you folks.

Sam G -- That loaded quote (attributed to Franklin) is questionable and often mangled by the left to counter many national-security measures (particularly those which conservatives advocate).

Wikiquote has additional information concerning the true origin (and content) of the original quote, which was "Thoſe who would give up ESSENTIAL LIBERTY to purchaſe a little TEMPORARY SAFETY, deſerve neither LIBERTY nor SAFETY" (uppercase in original). This dramatically changes the meaning.

For more, go to http://en.wikiquote.org/wiki/Benjamin_Franklin

Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). The New Poetry: An Anthology. 1917.

261. Prayer for Pain

By John G. Neihardt


I DO not pray for peace nor ease,
Nor truce from sorrow:
No suppliant on servile knees
Begs here against to-morrow!

Lean flame against lean flame we flash, 5
O Fates that meet me fair;
Blue steel against blue steel we clash—
Lay on, and I shall dare!

But Thou of deeps the awful Deep,
Thou Breather in the clay, 10
Grant this my only prayer—Oh, keep
My soul from turning gray!

For until now, whatever wrought
Against my sweet desires,
My days were smitten harps strung taut, 15
My nights were slumberous lyres.

And howsoe’er the hard blow rang
Upon my battered shield,
Some lark-like, soaring spirit sang
Above my battle-field. 20

And through my soul of stormy night
The zigzag blue flame ran.
I asked no odds—I fought my fight—
Events against a man.

But now—at last—the gray mist chokes 25
And numbs me. Leave me pain!
Oh, let me feel the biting strokes,
That I may fight again!

Bukowski, Bukowski, Bukowski!

Great video! Nicole, you are Amazing!

Linda yesterday as RX'd...28:13 a little less than a minute slower than last time. I'm so happy today is a rest day.

A Sioux Story

The Creator gathered all of Creation and said:

"I want to hide something from the humans until they are ready for it. It is the realization that they create their own reality."

The eagle said, "Give it to me, I will take it to the moon."

The Creator said,"No. One day they will go there and find it."

The salmon said, "I will bury it at the bottom of the ocean."

"No. They will go there too."

The buffalo said, " I will bury it on the Great Plains."

The Creator said, "They will cut into the skin of the Earth and find it even there."

Grandmother Mole, who lives in the breast of Mother Earth, and has no physical eyes but sees with spiritual eyes, said, "Put it inside them."

And the Creator said, "It is done."

I just want to say that I did yesterday's Linda workout and obtained a new PR.

40yr/M/160
Dead 245
BP 160
Cl 120
33:20
Deads and BP were unbroken and the CL's I broke into sets of 5. I could of taken off another 5 mins if I didn't have to take weight on and off the bars and move the BP bench back into place because all I had was 2 bars to work with.

Needless to say I am very happy with my time and performance. Everything felt real good and my cleans are getting stronger.

I know my times are far from what others can do, but it is great to feel such strong improvments and I'm very excited to build on these times.
Thanks

OH MY GOSH! AHH!

I feel like it's the day before my Birthday and in the morning I get to open the biggest best present ever of my whole life.

I'm kinda freakin out over here people. I need to go for a walk or something

AHHHH

“Do or do not... there is no try.”
Yoda

Man! I did Linda by myself last night and it killed me.... It always does physically I expect that, but normally I'm so pumped mentally after a workout I'm almost high! Last night I guess I didn't have any body to motivate or motivate me..... sad

wow, nice work Nicole.

No rest today going for a 10k

Andrew Marvel - To his coy mistress

Had we but world enough, and time,
This coyness, lady, were no crime.
We would sit down and think which way
To walk, and pass our long love's day;
Thou by the Indian Ganges' side
Shouldst rubies find; I by the tide
Of Humber would complain. I would
Love you ten years before the Flood;
And you should, if you please, refuse
Till the conversion of the Jews.
My vegetable love should grow
Vaster than empires, and more slow.
An hundred years should go to praise
Thine eyes, and on thy forehead gaze;
Two hundred to adore each breast,
But thirty thousand to the rest;
An age at least to every part,
And the last age should show your heart.
For, lady, you deserve this state,
Nor would I love at lower rate.

But at my back I always hear
Time's winged chariot hurrying near;
And yonder all before us lie
Deserts of vast eternity.
Thy beauty shall no more be found,
Nor, in thy marble vault, shall sound
My echoing song; then worms shall try
That long preserv'd virginity,
And your quaint honour turn to dust,
And into ashes all my lust.
The grave's a fine and private place,
But none I think do there embrace.

Now therefore, while the youthful hue
Sits on thy skin like morning dew,
And while thy willing soul transpires
At every pore with instant fires,
Now let us sport us while we may;
And now, like am'rous birds of prey,
Rather at once our time devour,
Than languish in his slow-chapp'd power.
Let us roll all our strength, and all
Our sweetness, up into one ball;
And tear our pleasures with rough strife
Thorough the iron gates of life.
Thus, though we cannot make our sun
Stand still, yet we will make him run.

My 2 favorite poems.
The first one, I wrote.
The second is by 19th century French poet, Arthur Rimbaud

"The Road to Who Knows Where"

Well we left on Monday nite, thought it'd be easier
Didn't know we'd hit the wall by quarter to 10.
We decided not to rest at the next station,
just to travel down the road to who knows when.

When our spirit died we headed for New Jersey,
Just across the Delaware from Delaware.
The sun came from the east and cast a shadow,
Behind us on the road to who knows where.

Like sailors often do we shouted, "land!"
As it overlapped below the steady sky.
We didn't have a clue to where we're going,
just a-marchin' down the road to who knows why.

Passed gardens, trees, and horses, pigs, and people,
the only way we knew: straight through the gut.
Then we pushed the pedal down a little further
as we sped across the road to who knows what.

Meandering through life we breathed in wonder,
never really knowin' what we were 'posed to do.
One road diverged to two--I grabbed the wheel,
and hooked a right down the road to who knows who.

Now all the roads we've traveled are behind us,
Don't feel like we were ever truly there.
But it's what, when, who, and why that really matter,
when you're mappin' out the road to who knows where.

"Le dormeur du val"

C'est un trou de verdure ou chante une riviere,
Accrochant follement aux herbes des haillons
D'argent ; ou le soleil, de la montagne fiere,
Luit : c'est un petit val qui mousse de rayons.

Un soldat jeune, bouche ouverte, tete nue,
Et la nuque baignant dans le frais cresson bleu,
Dort ; il est etendu dans l'herbe, sous la nue,
Pale dans son lit vert ou la lumiere pleut.

Les pieds dans les glaieuls, il dort. Souriant comme
Sourirait un enfant malade, il fait un somme :
Nature, berce-le chaudement : il a froid.

Les parfums ne font pas frissonner sa narine ;
Il dort dans le soleil, la main sur sa poitrine,
Tranquille. Il a deux trous rouges au cote droit.

Oh, what a wonderful rest day assignment! I can't wait to get home tonight to read all of these.

#11 BevK, isn't Wendell Berry wonderful?! A good Kentucky boy.

A tie for my favorites - Bears by Adrienne Rich (don't have my book at work so I'll have to post later, too) and

somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond

somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond
any experience, your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near
your slightest look easily will unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skillfully, mysteriously) her first rose
or if your wish be to close me, i and
my life will shut very beautifully, suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;
nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility: whose texture
compels me with the colour of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing
(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens; only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands.

ee cummings

29yo/m/163

DL: 250
BP: 165
Clean: 125

Time: 25:46

My warm up was insufficient and my lower back started burning during the round of 10 in cleans. It was a very tough workout mentally for me yesterday. I thought I was way off my time, but then ended up 2:00 quicker than my previous effort on Linda.

The most impressive thing to me in Nicoles video was her cleans. All of them were very deep with good form in every aspect. I know mine were deep enough, but I had some real ugly "saves" in there. The dialogue at the end provided a lot of insight that can be applied to many of the WODs.

Thanks Nicole and whoever was filming for that!

Ok - I know this is not part of today's topic but I am buzzing right now and had to share. I committed to getting a ring Muscle Up and sure enough I just got my first one and then I followed it up with two in a row. I should have gotten in on the bet with J Rock and Troy. These are much harder than bar muscle ups for me and I think besides the videos with Rob's instruction the biggest help for me was taping my rings. The tape enabled me to maintain the false grip easier and with a little kip during the transition I was up. Great feeling to finally get one of these. Awesome..

This is a paraphrase from T.S. Eliot's Little Gidding, which has always spoken to me:

What we call the beginning is often the end
And to make an end is to make a beginning.
The end is where we start from...

We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time.

QUICK QUESTION ? Do you start every workout with the SAMSON STRETCH ?

kk kk kk kk kk

Okay here's mine. For us.

WARRIORS IN OUR OWN RIGHT
Flesh turns to steel as we strip away the trivialities of the mundane.
Through the clashing storm of tears, sweat, and magnitude of spirit,
in a rage we attacked the task with the brotherhood of pure will.
Power -- clean to the bone,… the hunger to annihilate demons of the mind and whispers of fear tickling down our backs,… everything, it ALL,… shrank to less than a nothingness as we refused. To surrender to mediocrity.
We are FAMILY
Writing our own epic tale of shared trials and tribulations,
And today… this day…
together,
We won.

klk

#120 - Stark 0311 - Nice poem man.

#76 - Mike Peiman and #33 Kyle S. - Sorry that I stole you poem. I'm glad that you like it too.

#113 - John Brown - “Reality exists as an objective absolute: facts are facts, independent of man's feelings, wishes, hopes or fears.”
Ayn Rand
Ayn Rand must have known something about "Linda."

Ditto.

Ah so many to choose from- but I put what popped into my head first and then my favorite Bible verse:

The Road Not Taken

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveller, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference

...Robert Frost

Ephesians 3:20-21

"Now to HIm who is able to do Exceeding abundantly beyond all that we ask or imagine, according to the power that works within us, to Him be the glory in the church and in Christ Jesus to all generations forever and ever, Amen."

m/26/74kg(163lbs)

Fail play nicole, irish women have a lot to live up to!

In Dublin's fair city,
where the girls are so pretty,
I first set my eyes on sweet Molly Malone,
As she wheeled her wheel-barrow,
Through streets broad and narrow,
Crying, Cockles and mussels, alive alive oh!

Alive-a-live-oh,
Alive-a-live-oh,
Crying Cockles and mussels, alive alive oh.

She was a fishmonger,
And sure 'twas no wonder,
For so were her mother and father before,
And they each wheeled their barrow,
Through streets broad and narrow,
Crying, Cockles and mussels, alive, alive oh!

Alive-a-live-oh,
Alive-a-live-oh,
Crying Cockles and mussels, alive alive oh.

She died of a fever,
And no one could save her,
And that was the end of sweet Molly Malone.
Now her ghost wheels her barrow,
Through streets broad and narrow,
Crying, Cockles and mussels, alive, alive oh!

Alive-a-live-oh,
Alive-a-live-oh,
Crying Cockles and mussels, alive alive oh.

57:13.
Scaled to 100kg DL, 65kg bench, 50kg clean.

#244 Saggy - super nice 'Who Knows' poem. Like it alot.

The All-American Soldier

We're going up,up,up
And coming down, down, down

We're All American and proud to be
For we're the Soldiers of Liberty
Some ride their gliders to the enemy,
Others are sky Paratroopers.

We're All American and FIGHT we will
'Til all the guns of the Foe are still
Airborne, from skies of blue,
We're coming through!

Put on your boots, and parachutes,
Get on those gliders ready to attack!

For we'll be gone, into the dawn,
To fight them all the 82nd way!
Let's Go!

Blood Upon the Risers
"Is everybody happy?!", cried the Sergeant looking up
Our Hero meekly answered "Yes..", then they stood him up
He leaped into the blast, his static line unhooked
And he ain't gonna jump no more!

Gory, gory, what a helluva way to die!
Gory, gory, what a helluva way to die!
Gory, Gory, what a helluva way to die,
And he ain't gonna jump no more!

He leaped and bowed, he leaped and dove,
He waited for the shock
He felt the wind, he felt the cold,
He felt that awful drop
The silk from his reserve spilled out and wrapped around his legs
And he ain't gonna jump no more!

The risers wrapped around his neck,
Connectors cracked his dome
Suspension lines were tied in knots,
Around his skinny bones
His canopy became a shroud
as he hurtled towards the ground
And he ain't gonna jump no more!

The days he loved and lived and laughed kept running through his mind
He thought about the girl back home, the one he left behind
He thought about the medics, and he wondered what they'd find
And he ain't gonna jump no more!

The ambulance was on the spot,
the jeeps were running wild
The medics jumped and screamed with glee,
rolled up their sleeves and smiled
For it had been a week or so since last a 'chute had failed
And he ain't gonna jump no more!

He hit the ground, the sound was splat, the blood went spurting high!
All his comrades were heard to scream,
"What a helluva way to die!"
He lay there rolling around in all the welter of his gore,
And he ain't gonna jump no more!

There was blood upon the the risers, there was brains upon his boots
Intestines were a-danglin' from his Paratrooper suit
They poured him from his helmet and they poured him from his boots
And he ain't gonna jump no more!

Beautiful streamer, please open for me
Blue skies above me, and no canopy
I counted ten thousand, waited to long
Reached for my ripcord, the handle was gone!

Gory, gory what a helluva way to die!
Gory, gory, what a helluva way to die
Gory, gory, what a helluva way to die!
And he ain't gonna jump no more!

I have gotten some questions about the 3x5 strength building scheme I posted on the 13th, more information here:

http://tinyurl.com/2ttyq2

By the way does anyone know which CF journal has the similar ME/CF scheme in it?

"Men go abroad to wonder at the heights of mountains, at the huge waves of the sea, at the long courses of the rivers, at the vast compass of the ocean, at the circular motions of the stars, and they pass by themselves withouth wondering."
St. Augustine

#247 mhlane-
Congrats!

Great effort Nicole!

Most of you are pretty deep and cultured, all I have is:

'Here's to swimmin with bo legged women'
Country Time Bar outside Camp Lejeune, NC

There are some great poems here. Man o man, there were two that I would have posted. So, I have to come up with another one. With out further ado:

"We shall go on to the end. We shall fight in France, we shall fight on the seas and the oceans, we shall fight with growing confidence and growing strength in the air, we shall defend our island, whatever the cost may be. We shall fight on the beaches, we shall fight on the landing grounds, we shall fight in the fields and in the streets, we shall fight in the hills; we shall never surrender."

Winston Churchill,

When Linda, or Cindy or an other WOD gets ahead of you, dont surrender and leave the gym, back up regroup and make that time.

The Greatest Gift

Gardens of buried pleasure
neatly in a row
Are planted life's true secret
in a world yet still unknown

Six feet deep down dark
Free from concern
The greatest gift from life itself lies in the
Food for the worms.

Linda stats to come if this damn gym ever slows down enough to allow the three bar set up.

#251 murlin

Thanks. 3rd line, supposed to be "But then", not "But the". Typo.

Not necessarily a poem, but a quote I've always loved:

The very least you can do in your life
is to figure out what you hope for
And the most you can do is live inside that hope
Not admire it from a distance,
but live right in it, under its roof
What I want is so simple I almost can't say it:
elementary kindness
Enough to eat, enough to go around
The possibility that kids might one day grow up
to be neither the destroyers nor the destroyed
That's about it
Right now I'm living in that hope,
running down its hallway and touching the walls on both sides
I can't tell you how good it feels
I wish you knew

-Barbara Kingsolver, in Animal Dreams

Dan Puckett first place, and close second to dmic #103. Renaissance man will return...with Crossfit's help!

Thank you very much for posting that video of Linda. I will always remember how to do her now. Fast, furious, and fearful.

Mourir pour des idées, Georges Brassens

(Semi-rough translation)

To die for ideas, what a splendid idea!
I myself almost died for not having had it
When the overwhelming mass of those who did
Pounced on me, howling and baying.
They won me over, and my insolent Muse,
Renouncing the error of her ways, joined their faith
With a slight reservation, however:
Let us die for ideas, yes, but a slow death,
Yes, a slow death.

Since there is no hurry,
Let us dawdle on our way to the hereafter.
Indeed, if we quicken our pace, we may very well die
For ideas that will be out of date tomorrow.
Now if there is one thing that’s unpleasant and distressing
It is to realize, when you meet your Maker,
That you took a wrong turn, that you chose the wrong idea.
Let us die for ideas, yes, but a slow death,
Yes, a slow death.

Those loose canons that preach martyrdom
Most often, truth be told, linger here below.
To die for ideas is what they live for,
How appropriate, and they see no reason to stop.
On all sides we see some whose longevity will soon
Surpass that of Methuselah.
I can only infer that they are telling themselves, behind closed doors:
Let us die for ideas, yes, but a slow death,
Yes, a slow death.

Of ideas demanding the ultimate sacrifice,
Sects of every shade offer abundance.
Novice victims are therefore faced with the question:
To die for ideas, why not, but which ones?
And as they all resemble each other,
When he sees them coming under their lofty banners,
The wise man hesitates, circling the tomb.
Let us die for ideas, yes, but a slow death,
Yes, a slow death.

If only a few slaughters were needed
For everything at last to change for the better,
After so many Big Days that have seen so many heads fall,
We would already be living in heaven on Earth.
But the golden age is always postponed indefinitely,
The gods are always thirsty, they are never satisfied.
And it’s death, death again and again.
Let us die for ideas, yes, but a slow death,
Yes, a slow death.

O all you firebrands, you deceitful good apostles,
Go and die first, we gladly yield to you.
But please, by Jove, let the rest of us live,
Life is just about our only earthly luxury.
For after all, the Grim Reaper is watchful as it is,
He doesn’t need our help to wield his scythe.
No more macabre dances around the scaffolds.
Let us die for ideas, yes, but a slow death,
Yes, a slow death.

#22

I am sorry if I take away the seriousness and reverence in your post. But it made me laugh out loud here. Nice Post.

Jabberwocky by Louis Carroll

Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

`Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jujub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!'

He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought --
So rested he by the Tumtum gree,
And stood awhile in thought.

And as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wook,
And burbled as it came!

One, two! One, two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.

`And has thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Calloh! Callay!
He chortled in his joy.

`Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

I once gave a speech on this poem. Emphasizing that the meaning of someone's speech can be understood even if there are a lot of nonsense words included. It has always been a favorite of mine.

A quote that I felt was appropo for this audience...
"He who has always spared himself much will in the end become sickly of so much consideration. Praised be what hardens!"

-Friedrich Nietzsche

THE HANGMAN

By Maurice Ogden

Into our town the hangman came,
smelling of gold and blood and flame.
He paced our bricks with a different air,
and built his frame on the courthouse square.

The scaffold stood by the courthouse side,
only as wide as the door was wide
with a frame as tall, or a little more,
than the capping sill of the courthouse door.

And we wondered whenever we had the time,
Who the criminal? What the crime?
The hangman judged with the yellow twist
of knotted hemp in his busy fist.

And innocent though we were with dread,
we passed those eyes of buckshot lead.
Till one cried, "Hangman, who is he,
for whom you raised the gallows-tree?"

Then a twinkle grew in his buckshot eye
and he gave a riddle instead of reply.
"He who serves me best," said he
"Shall earn the rope on the gallows-tree."

And he stepped down and laid his hand
on a man who came from another land.
And we breathed again, for anothers grief
at the hangmans hand, was our relief.

And the gallows frame on the courthouse lawn
by tomorrow's sun would be struck and gone.
So we gave him way and no one spoke
out of respect for his hangmans cloak.

The next day's sun looked mildly down
on roof and street in our quiet town;
and stark and black in the morning air
the gallows-tree on the courthouse square.

And the hangman stood at his usual stand
with the yellow hemp in his busy hand.
With his buckshot eye and his jaw like a pike,
and his air so knowing and business-like.

And we cried, "Hangman, have you not done,
yesterday with the alien one?"
Then we fell silent and stood amazed.
"Oh, not for him was the gallows raised."

He laughed a laugh as he looked at us,
"Do you think I've gone to all this fuss,
To hang one man? That's the thing I do.
To stretch the rope when the rope is new."

Above our silence a voice cried "Shame!"
and into our midst the hangman came;
to that mans place, "Do you hold," said he,
"With him that was meat for the gallows-tree?"

He laid his hand on that one's arm
and we shrank back in quick alarm.
We gave him way, and no one spoke,
out of fear of the hangmans cloak.

That night we saw with dread surprise
the hangmans scaffold had grown in size.
Fed by the blood beneath the chute,
the gallows-tree had taken root.

Now as wide, or a little more
than the steps that led to the courthouse door.
As tall as the writing, or nearly as tall,
half way up on the courthouse wall.

The third he took, we had all heard tell,
was a usurer..., an infidel.
And "What" said the hangman, "Have you to do
with the gallows-bound..., and he a Jew?"

And we cried out, "Is this one he
who has served you well and faithfully?"
The hangman smiled, "It's a clever scheme
to try the strength of the gallows beam."

The fourth man's dark accusing song
had scratched our comfort hard and long.
"And what concern," he gave us back,
"Have you ... for the doomed and black?"

The fifth, the sixth, and we cried again,
"Hangman, hangman, is this the man?"
"It's a trick", said he, "that we hangman know
for easing the trap when the trap springs slow."

And so we ceased and asked now more
as the hangman tallied his bloody score.
And sun by sun, and night by night
the gallows grew to monstrous height.

The wings of the scaffold opened wide
until they covered the square from side to side.
And the monster cross beam looking down,
cast its shadow across the town.

Then through the town the hangman came
and called through the empy streets...my name.
I looked at the gallows soaring tall
and thought ... there's no one left at all

for hanging ... and so he called to me
to help take down the gallows-tree.
And I went out with right good hope
to the hangmans tree and the hangmans rope.

He smiled at me as I came down
to the courthouse square...through the silent town.
Supple and stretched in his busy hand,
was the yellow twist of hempen strand.

He whistled his tune as he tried the trap
and it sprang down with a ready snap.
Then with a smile of awful command,
He laid his hand upon my hand.

"You tricked me Hangman." I shouted then,
"That your scaffold was built for other men,
and I'm no henchman of yours." I cried.
"You lied to me Hangman, foully lied."

Then a twinkle grew in his buckshot eye,
"Lied to you...tricked you?" He said "Not I...
for I answered straight and told you true.
The scaffold was raised for none but you."

"For who has served more faithfully?
With your coward's hope." said He,
"And where are the others that might have stood
side by your side, in the common good?"

"Dead!" I answered, and amiably
"Murdered," the Hangman corrected me.
"First the alien ... then the Jew.
I did no more than you let me do."

Beneath the beam that blocked the sky
none before stood so alone as I.
The Hangman then strapped me...with no voice there
to cry "Stay!" ... for me in the empty square.

Rx

3 guinness
Irish Sing along
3 guinness
Irish sing along
3 guinness
Cab ride home

Dubliners - Whiskey In The Jar Lyrics

As I was a goin' over the far famed Kerry mountains
I met with captain Farrell and his money he was counting
I first produced my pistol and I then produced my rapier
Saying "Stand and deliver" for he were a bold deceiver

Chorus:
Mush-a ring dum-a do dum-a da
Wack fall the daddy-o, wack fall the daddy-o
There's whiskey in the jar

I counted out his money and it made a pretty penny
I put it in me pocket and I took it home to Jenny
She sighed and she swore that she never would deceive me
But the devil take the women for they never can be easy

(Chorus)

I went up to my chamber, all for to take a slumber
I dreamt of gold and jewels and for sure 't was no wonder
But Jenny blew me charges and she filled them up with water
Then sent for captain Farrell to be ready for the slaughter

(Chorus)

't was early in the morning, just before I rose to travel
Up comes a band of footmen and likewise captain Farrell
I first produced me pistol for she stole away me rapier
I couldn't shoot the water, so a prisoner I was taken

(Chorus)

Now there's some take delight in the carriages a rolling
and others take delight in the hurling and the bowling
but I take delight in the juice of the barley
and courting pretty fair maids in the morning bright and early

(Chorus)

If anyone can aid me 't is my brother in the army
If I can find his station in Cork or in Killarney
And if he'll go with me, we'll go rovin' through Killkenny
And I'm sure he'll treat me better than my own a-sporting Jenny

(Chorus)

Yeah Mike #22:

What are dumps?

The spam filter does NOT like Maya Angelou, and Gin Crazed beat me to the punch on D.H. Lawrence, so:

My father's people say that at the birth of the sun, and his brother the moon, their mother died. So the sun gave to the Earth her body, from which was to spring all life. And he drew forth from her breast the stars, and threw them into the night sky to remind them of her soul. So there lies the Camerons' monument. My folks' too, I guess.
-from "The Last of the Mohicans" by James Fennimore Cooper (from memory, hopefully accurate)

I love how some of Nicole's videos, Linda, Nasty Girls, BW OHS show the struggle of Crossfit. Superhero times in Heavy Fran are great, but I can't relate. Seeing a great athlete like Nicole suffer to improve is inspirational. Nicole, I don't know if you volunteer to be filmed doing what comes hard to you or whether Tony is just able to goad you into it, but either way, thanks for sharing.

Maximus

i did your 3x5 workout for shoulder press last night.

1 set at 95 1 at 115 then 3 sets at 135(80% of one rep max of 170)

felt good. barely got the last two so it seems like it was the right weight. i'll try other ones also and let you know.

We spend our lives working jobs
To Buy things that we do not need
Only to impress people that we do not like

$50 to anyone who can tell me who wrote this...

Overwhelmed as one would be, placed in my position.
Such a heavy burden now to be the one.
Born to bear and read to all
The details of our ending.
To write it down for all the world to see.
But I forgot my pen,
Shit the bed again,
Typical.

Now That I am In Madrid I Can Think

I think of you
and the continents brilliant and arid
and the slender heart you are sharing my share of with the American air
as the lungs I have felt sonorously subside slowly greet each morning
and your brown lashes flutter revealing two perfect dawns colored by New York

see a vast bridge stetching to the humbled outskirts with only you
Standing on the edge of the purple like an only tree
and in Toledo the olive groves' soft blue look at the hills with silver
like glasses like and old ladies hair
It's well known that God and I don't get along together
It's just a view of the brass works for me, I don't care about the Moors
seen through you the great works of death, you are greater

you are smiling, you are emptying the world so we can be alone.

Frank O'Hara

Invictus

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of Circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of Chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find me, unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

I agree with Doug R #128 that "IF" by R.Kipling is one of the best.

Below is an excerpt from Grantland Rices' "ALUMNUS FOOTBALL" poem:

"You’ll find the road is long and rough, with soft spots far apart,
Where only those can make the grade who have the Uphill Heart,
And whey they stop you with a thud or jolt you with a crack,
Let Courage call the signals as you keep on coming back.
Keep coming back, and though the world may romp across your spine,
Let every game’s end find you still upon the battling line:
For when the One Great Scorer comes to mark against your name,
He writes – not that you won or lost – but how you played the game."

This is why I love CF you are continually competing against your best self and it's how you get better each day that matters.

Thanks to the CF community for sharing your greatness

I heard this from some weird "workout" guy one time. (I tried to read through them all to see if this is a repeat so please forgive me if it is):

3, 2, 1, go!

;-)

It's kind of morbid, I suppose, for me to love this poem so much. But if I keep living the way I'm living, it's about how I expect I'll feel when I go.

As Death Approaches
by Susan Deborah King

I can't believe I'm laughing!
I'd have sworn I'd be
shaking or sniveling.
And I sure didn't expect
a limousine.
I've never been in a limousine.
No biggy.
I've had better than fame.
Who needs the pressure?
As for fortune, I'm filthy.
That's why I'm laughing.
I've had so much love:
the giving, the getting.
It's shameful.
It's embarrassing.
And it's too late.
No one can take it away!
And I've had the pain
to help me appreciate it.
Thank God for the pain!
Easy for me to say
now that I'm going!
But no, seriously,
the kicks in the teeth,
the gut, the rugs
pulled out, slammed doors,
setbacks, snubs.
Without them, I'd
never have recognized
Love, bedraggled,
plain eyes shining,
happy to see me.
Do I want more?
Of course I want more!
I always want more
of everything: money, hugs,
lovemaking, art, butter,
woods, flowers, the sea,
M&Ms, chips, tops, bottoms,
trips — I did give up drinking —
time, sure, and yes,
I'd like to see
my grandchildren,
if there are any.
I'd like to see my books
but more has never
been good for me anyway.
Enough — that's what I've
always needed to learn,
and is there a better way?
So this laughter
I had to work up to
through so many tears,
it just keeps coming
like a fountain, a spray.
Let it light on you
refreshment, benediction,
as I'm driven away.

Hey, I posted a poem by Pablo Neruda that wasn't caught by the spam filter. I saw it on the forum, right after "Bukowski, Bukowski, Bukowski!" Where did it go?

i won't post it in it's entirety here, but Eliot's "Lovesong of J. Alfred Prufrock" is my absolute favorite. most of you probably know parts of it, like, "do i dare disturb the universe," etc., but if you have never read it in its entirety, i recommend you do so...

"The first question which you will ask and which I must try to answer is this, 'What is the use of climbing Mount Everest?' and my answer must at once be, 'It is no use'. There is not the slightest prospect of any gain whatsoever. Oh, we may learn a little about the behavior of the human body at high altitudes, and possibly medical men may turn our observation to some account for the purposes of aviation. But otherwise nothing will come of it. We shall not bring back a single bit of gold or silver, not a gem, nor any coal or iron. We shall not find a single foot of earth that can be planted with crops to raise food. It's no use. So, if you cannot understand that there is something in man which responds to the challenge of this mountain and goes out to meet it, that the struggle is the struggle of life itself upward and forever upward, then you won't see why we go. What we get from this adventure is just sheer joy. And joy is, after all, the end of life. We do not live to eat and make money. We eat and make money to be able to enjoy life. That is what life means and what life is for."

--George Leigh Mallory, 1922

ha! it's at comment 150! check it out...

"Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention to arrive safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways, thoroughly used up and loudly proclaiming: Wow! What a ride!" Rice

Great post inferno.. that sums up a lot of things in life that people look at you and ask "why are you doing that?"

Not sure if anyone has seen this one, it's golden though.

For every one hundred men you send us,
Ten should not even be here.
Eighty are nothing but targets.
Nine of them are real fighters;
We are lucky to have them, for they the battle make.
Ah, but the one. One of them is a warrior.
And he will bring the others back.
- Heraclitus

A poem I wrote one night when my son kept us up late...

"A Moment Ago"

A moment ago it was pouring,
right now it only falls gently.

A moment ago he was crying,
right now he sits cooing soflty.

A moment ago we were talking,
right now you lie here quietly.

In a moment right now will pass,
drifting by silent and slow.

Slipping as if through a glass,
until it’s only a moment ago.

I live in Birmingham Al and business took me to Maine. I was lamenting the fact that Lincoln Me. had no workout facilities and found opportunity to stop at a gym in Bangor before my flight home.

Both teusday's and wednesday's workouts had been missed and I was fascilating on which to do as I surveyed what equipment was available. I located the free weight room that contained a lifting platform.

Still indecisive about whether I wanted to attempt Linda, I spotted a white index card next to the lifting platform that said the following:

10-9-8-7-6-5-4-3-2-1 Reps

Deadlift: 1 1/2 body weight
Bench press: body weight
Clean: 3/4 body weight

So Linda it was. Thirty minutes later I wished the card would have said Rest Day you deserve it.

That is the closest encounter yet. One day I will actually meet a bonified xfitter and thanks to the perosn in Bangor, who lost their index card.

M/38/6'4"/240

scaled down LINDA:
DL - 315
BP - 225
CL - 175
Time: 34:00
Brutal!

Yesterday's WOD - chemotherapy.

Today's WOD - Deadlift 3-3-3-3-3 (135/205/275/295/315) followed by 1x325 and 1x335 (1 RM PR).

Bob
neverfeltbetter.blogspot.com

Dylan Thomas "Do not go gentle into that good night"

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Still I Rise
by Maya Angelou

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don't you take it awful hard
'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines
Diggin' in my own back yard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I'll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I've got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history's shame
I rise
Up from a past that's rooted in pain
I rise
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.

WHEN that Aprilis, with his showers swoot,
The drought of March hath pierced to the root,
And bathed every vein in such licour,
Of which virtue engender'd is the flower;
When Zephyrus eke with his swoote breath
Inspired hath in every holt and heath
The tender croppes and the younge sun, bough Hath in the Ram his halfe course y-run,
And smalle fowles make melody,
That sleepen all the night with open eye,
(So pricketh them nature in their corages);
Then longe folk to go on pilgrimages,
And palmers for to seeke strange strands,
To ferne hallows couth in sundry lands;
And specially, from every shire's end
Of Engleland, to Canterbury they wend,
The holy blissful Martyr for to seek,
That them hath holpen, when that they were sick.

Chaucer, Canterbury Tales, General Prologue

Slopes
of Mount Kugami—
in the mountain's shade
a hut beneath the trees—
how many years
it's been my home?
The time comes
to take leave of it—
my thoughts wilt
like summer grasses,
I wander back and forth
like the evening star—
till that hut of mine
is hidden from sight,
till that grove of trees
can no longer be seen,
at each bend
of the long road
at every turning,
I turn to look back
in the direction of that mountain

—Ryôkan

#277

That is Tool, my friend, in "Rosetta Stoned".

#277 Big Saaarge

Those are lyrics to a tool song "Rosetta Stoned "

# 283 Estaban:

My favorite line in literature is from that poem:

"I do not think that they will sing to me."

Four Quartets are also simply amazing

(B.A., English, UC Berkeley, 1991)

Dang it Jeff! seconds to slow it appears...

GREAT JOB NICOLE! Not many women can do "linda" as rx mainly beacause of the bench, thats a great accomplishment but next time maybe a little quicker (sorry the coach in me always leaks out)

Been under the weather this week but today did

Muscle-up practice 4 x 3 turned out at bottom, I've discovered after turning them out it's the rotation back that bugs my shoulder, can't wait to get past that.

15-13-11-9-7-5-3-1
OHS 95 lb
Bar Dips

11:19

Cuz its all about the skiing

1940 Cascadian Annual, a poem called "Etching" captured the spirit of skiing in those days:

Mid darkling pine,
A crystal hill
An eerie whine
Of wind. The thrill
Of biting air
And pungent tree,
The sudden flare of ecstasy
As skiers race
Down lacquered slopes
With all the grace
Of antelopes.
Their life-blood sings,
Their hearts are free,
Their feet wear wings
Of hickory!

Paratrooper's Prayer
--André Zirnheld, Free French Forces, KIA Libya 1942

I'm asking You God, to give me what You have left.
Give me those things which others never ask of You.
I don't ask You for rest, or tranquility.
Not that of the spirit, the body, or the mind.
I don't ask You for wealth, or success, or even health.
All those things are asked of You so much Lord,
that you can't have any left to give.
Give me instead Lord what You have left.
Give me what others don't want.
I want uncertainty and doubt.
I want torment and battle.
And I ask that You give them to me now and forever Lord,
so I can be sure to always have them,
because I won't always have the strength to ask again.

But give me also the courage, the energy,
and the spirit to face them.
I ask You these things Lord,
because I can't ask them of myself

this sailors creed from yankee sailor

I am an American Sailor, and a Warrior First. I Fight under the Red, White and Blue of my Fathers and descend from John Paul Jones and Oliver Hazard Perry. In my ears rings "I have not yet begun to fight" and "don't give up the ship", and in my veins flows Fire and Gunpowder. I will master my profession and demand that my fellow Sailors master theirs. I will follow when lead, and Lead when able. I will place nothing above the welfare of my fellow Sailors, save my Mission, and no matter what my ship, squadron, station or watch, I will help deliver Defeat to the Enemy. In this I will not fail. With Honor in my Head, Courage in my Heart, and Commitment in my Hands, I will be a Warrior first, until Victory is in hand and Liberty is secure.

American fighting man

The average age of an American infantry soldier is
19 years. He is a short haired, tight-muscled kid who, under normal circumstances is considered by society as half man, half boy. Not yet dry behind the ears, not old enough to buy a beer, but old enough to die for his country. He never really cared much for work and he would rather wax his own car than wash his father's; but he has never collected unemploymenteither.
He's a recent High School graduate; he was probably an average student, pursued some form of sport activities, drives a ten year old jalopy, and has a steady girlfriend that either broke up with him when he left, or swears to be waiting when he returns from half a world away.
He listens to rock and roll or hip hop or rap or jazz or swing and 155 mm Howitzers. He is 10 or 15 pounds lighter now than when he was at home because he is working or fighting from before dawn to well after dusk. He has trouble spelling, thus letter writing is a pain for him, but he can field strip a rifle in 30 seconds and reassemble it in less-in the dark. He can recite to you the nomenclature of a machine gun or grenade launcher and use either oneeffectively if he must.
He digs foxholes and latrines and can apply first aid like a professional. He can march until he is told to stop or stop until he is told to march. He obeys orders instantly and without hesitation, but he is not without spirit > or individual dignity.

He is self-sufficient. He has two sets of fatigues: he washes one and wears the other. He keeps his canteens full and his feet dry. He sometimes forgets to brush his teeth, but never to clean his rifle. He can cook his own meals,
mend his own clothes, and fix his own hurts. If
you're thirsty, he'll share his water with you; if you are hungry, his food. He'll even split his
ammunition with you in the midst of battle when you run low. He has learned to use his hands like weapons and weapons like they were his hands. He can save your life - or take it, because that is his job.

He will often do twice the work of a civilian, draw half the pay and still find ironic humor in it all. He has seen more suffering and death then he should have in his short lifetime. He has stood atop mountains of dead bodies, and helped to create them. He has wept in public and in private, for friends who have fallen in combat and is unashamed.

He feels every note of the National Anthem vibrate through his body while at rigid attention, while tempering the burning desire to 'square-away' those around him who haven't bothered to stand, remove their hat, or even stop
talking. In an odd twist, day in and day out, far
from home, he defends their right to be disrespectful.

Just as did his Father, Grandfather, and Great-grandfather, he is paying the price for our freedom. Beardless or not, he is not a boy. He is the American Fighting Man that has kept this country free for over 200 years. He has asked nothing in return, except our friendship and understanding.

Remember him, always, for he has earned our respect and admiration.

I know the above isn't really a poem, but it is a great salute to those who close with and destroy the enemies of our nation.

De Opreso Liber

It wasn't on either of the linked sites but should have been.

The Gods of the Copybook Headings
Rudyard Kipling, 1919

As I pass through my incarnations in every age and race,
I Make my proper prostrations to the Gods of the Market-Place.
Peering through reverent fingers I watch them flourish and fall,
And the Gods of the Copybook Headings, I notice, outlast them all.

We were living in trees when they met us. They showed us each in turn
That Water would certainly wet us, as Fire would certainly burn:
But we found them lacking in Uplift, Vision and Breadth of Mind,
So we left them to teach the Gorillas while we followed the March of Mankind.

We moved as the Spirit listed. They never altered their pace,
Being neither cloud nor wind-borne like the Gods of the Market-Place.
But they always caught up with our progress, and presently word would come
That a tribe had been wiped off its icefield, or the lights had gone out in Rome.

With the Hopes that our World is built on they were utterly out of touch
They denied that the Moon was Stilton; they denied she was even Dutch
They denied that Wishes were Horses; they denied that a Pig had Wings.
So we worshipped the Gods of the Market Who promised these beautiful things.

When the Cambrian measures were forming, They promised perpetual peace.
They swore, if we gave them our weapons, that the wars of the tribes would cease.
But when we disarmed They sold us and delivered us bound to our foe,
And the Gods of the Copybook Heading said: "Stick to the Devil you know."

On the first Feminian Sandstones we were promised the Fuller Life
(Which started by loving our neighbour and ended by loving his wife)
Till our women had no more children and the men lost reason and faith,
And the Gods of the Copybook Headings said: "The Wages of Sin is Death."

In the Carboniferous Epoch we were promised abundance for all,
By robbing selected Peter to pay for collective Paul;
But, though we had plenty of money, there was nothing our money could buy,
And the Gods of the Copybook Headings said: "If you don't work you die."

Then the Gods of the Market tumbled, and their smooth-tongued wizards withdrew,
And the hearts of the meanest were humbled and began to believe it was true
That All is not Gold that Glitters, and Two and Two make Four --
And the Gods of the Copybook Headings limped up to explain it once more.

* * * * *

As it will be in the future, it was at the birth of Man --
There are only four things certain since Social Progress began --
That the Dog returns to his Vomit and the Sow returns to her Mire,
And the burnt Fool's bandaged finger goes wabbling back to the Fire --
And that after this is accomplished, and the brave new world begins
When all men are paid for existing and no man must pay for his sins
As surely as Water will wet us, as surely as Fire will burn
The Gods of the Copybook Headings with terror and slaughter return!

That was the hottest video yet. Great job! On a side note, When these videos get posted on youtube the comment sections provide so of the best entertainment. Check it out!

Nicole, you're amazing.

"Amazing grace, how sweet the sound,
That saved a wretch like me.
I once was lost, but now am found,
was blind, but now I see."

Amazing Grace -verse 1
John Newton

There was so much more I could have said.
I could have said that in about six weeks, I increased my max hill speed on the bike from 5.5mph to 7.0 mph. Same damned hill.
I could have said I have more energy now at 52 than I did at 32.
I could have said there's nothing like coming to the gym to see if today's the day I can do more.....
I could have said that before I started exercising and dieting, the world was getting smaller and smaller as I was getting larger and larger. As in: can't hike up the hill, can't take a bike ride, can't go rock-climbing, can't kayak, can't walk around friggin' Disney World because it's too tiring and it hurts too much. I thought I was old. Thank God I figured out I wasn't so much old as fat, because fat you can do something about.
Now, I can bike across New York state in one week, go rock-climbing, kayaking, and I could walk all day without getting tired. Heck, I could run 10 miles today if I felt like it.
I could also have said that I would never have done all this without the support and help of my friend and trainer, Jason Ackerman of Albany Crossfit. He treated me as seriously and respectfully when I was fat and sedentary as he does now that I'm fit and moving. He believed in me before I could believe in myself. If you're in the New York capital district and you are looking for a trainer and a fitness program, look no further than Jason Ackerman and Albany Crossfit.
So there...I could have said all that!

-Sue (Albany CrossFit member)

This, to me, is poetry.

#293 Bob

congrats on the PR. you inspire us all.

Great work, poetry posters.

I have to comment on a few:

Comment #242 - Posted by PatrickH: You stole my thunder. To His Coy Mistress is great stuff, very funny, and can be sent to certain girls who make you wait. Carpe diem!

Comment #257 - Posted by kislanyFL. Great quote from St. Augustine. In one sentence, he grabs your attention.

Comment #265 - Posted by Ewen. Loved your poem, Ewen. Is that your translation? I'm impressed either way.

Patrick has already posted my poem, so I'll mention two incredible memoirs involving poets: Hope Against Hope, and Hope Abandoned by Nadezhda Mandelstam. These books are about Russia, a great poet, his wife's devotion and survival under Stalin. From a reviewer: "Nothing one can say will either communicate or affect the genius of this book. To pass judgment on it is almost insolence--even judgment that is merely celebration and homage."

If you read one of these books, you will never again take your intellectual freedoms for granted.

Thanks, Coach, for showing your feminine side!

You who are steel-braced, straight lipped, enduring
dreadless in danger and dire in defeat;
Honor the High North ever and ever,
Whether she crown you or whether she slay;
suffer her fury, cherish and love her--
he who would rule her must learn to obey.

-Robert W. Service

293 - Bob
That is truely amazing going from Chemo one day to a PR in DL's the next. I am in awe..

Mike

"The question is not how far. The question is: do you posess the constitution, the depth of faith to go as far as needed." Boondock Saints

Desiderata

Go placidly amid the noise and haste,
and remember what peace there may be in silence.
As far as possible without surrender
be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly;
and listen to others,
even the dull and the ignorant;
they too have their story.

Avoid loud and aggressive persons,
they are vexations to the spirit.
If you compare yourself with others,
you may become vain and bitter;
for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.
Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.

Keep interested in your own career, however humble;
it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.
Exercise caution in your business affairs;
for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;
many persons strive for high ideals;
and everywhere life is full of heroism.

Be yourself.
Especially, do not feign affection.
Neither be cynical about love;
for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment
it is as perennial as the grass.

Take kindly the counsel of the years,
gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.
But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.
Beyond a wholesome discipline,
be gentle with yourself.

You are a child of the universe,
no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.

Therefore be at peace with God,
whatever you conceive Him to be,
and whatever your labors and aspirations,
in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul.

With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams,
it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful.
Strive to be happy.

Max Ehrmann, Desiderata, Copyright 1952.

The breadth and quality of work cited in these posts is simply incredible. If someone quotes Wallace Stevens, I'll drink the Kool Aid. (Forgive the side-ways reference to Gym Jones.)

awesome work nicole, truly inspirational! Even with the struggle on bench you still finished with a decent time.

I hope someday to bench my bw for one rep, rx'd linda is not even fathomable!

42yom 183lbs
Playing catch up. Did Linda today.

DL: 225lbs BP: 165lbs Cln: 95lbs
Time: 32:47.

My last Linda was 19:08 but I had DL: 185 BP: 155lbs and Cln: 85lbs. I knew I was going to be slower but didn't expect by that much! I'll have to fix that right quick...

Raise your swords up high!
See the black birds fly!
Let them hear your rage!
Show no fear!
Attack!

Charge your horses across the fields
Together we ride into destiny
Have no fear of death, when its our time
Oden will bring us home, when we die!

The ground trembles under us
As we make our thunder charge
The pounding hooves spread panic and fear into their hearts
Our helmets shine in the sun as we near their wall of shields
Some of them turn and run
When they hear our frenzied screams!

Draw your swords to strike!
Hear the Black Birds cry!
Let them feel your hate!
Show no fear!

Charge your horses across the fields
Together we ride into destiny
Have no fear of death, when its our time
Oden will bring us home, when we die!

The enemy are in disarray ride them down as they run
Send them to their violent graves don't spare anyone
Dead and wounded lie all around see the pain in their eyes
Over the field an eerie sound, as we hear the ravens cry

Cry of the Blackbirds
-Amon Amarth-

Fight Club:

"...I say never be complete, I say stop being perfect, I say let... lets evolve, let the chips fall where they may."

Go as a pilgrim and seek out danger far from the comfort and well lit avenues of life.

Pit your every soul against the unknown and seek stimulation in the comfort of the brave.

Experience cold, hunger, heat and thirst and survive to see another challenge and another dawn.

Only then will you be at peace with yourself and be able to know and say;

I look down the farthest side of the mountain a fulfilled and understanding all, and truly content that I lived a full life and one that was my own choice.

We are the pilgrims master, we shall go always a little further, it may be beyond that last blue mountain barred with snow across that angry glimmering sea.

--James Elroy Flecker

To the real pilgrims, you know who you are, I remain in your debt.

WO...
Pushing bush for the FDNY boys up on their hunting trip.
Hard to stay away from the beer! Work tonight thank god.

I, too, sing America.
I am the darker brother.
They send me to eat in the kitchen
when company comes
but I laugh,
and eat well,
and grow strong.

Tommorrow,
I'll be at the table
when company comes,
Nobody'll dare
say to me
"eat in the kitchen"
then.

Besides,
They'll see how beautiful I am
and be ashamed--
I, too, am America.

----------------------
Hold fast to dreams,
for if dreams die,
life is a broken-winged bird
that cannot fly.

Hold fast to dreams,
for when dreams go,
Life is a barren field,
frozen with snow.

Both poems by Langston Hughes

Me: 40yo/M/5'10"/195lbs

Linda: 58:10

I was unable to workout for the past two months and Linda was my first day back. I almost wet myself when I saw her name on the last WOD. This is one of my hardest workouts. For me its not the bench, its the cleans and my aerobic capacity.

Kudos to Nicole, sometimes I watch her rip through a WOD and I just say, "Wow, she is in great shape", today I found out that she has guts too.

As far as poetry:

I am a very deep thinker and I have always loved this one:

When tweetle beetles fight,
it's called a tweetle beetle battle.

And when they battle in a puddle,
it's a tweetle beetle puddle battle.

AND when tweetle beetles battle with paddles in a puddle,
they call it a tweetle beetle puddle paddle battle.

AND...

When beetles battle beetles in a puddle paddle battle
and the beetle battle puddle is a puddle in a bottle...
...they call this a tweetle beetle bottle puddle paddle battle muddle.

AND...

When beetles fight these battles in a bottle with their paddles
and the bottle's on a poodle and the poodle's eating noodles...
...they call this a muddle puddle tweetle poodle beetle noodle
bottle paddle battle.

AND...

Now wait a minute, Mr. Socks Fox!

When a fox is in the bottle where the tweetle beetles battle
with their paddles in a puddle on a noodle-eating poodle,
THIS is what they call...

...a tweetle beetle noodle poodle bottled paddled
muddled duddled fuddled wuddled fox in socks, sir!

Fox in socks, our game is done, sir.
Thank you for a lot of fun, sir.

from Fox in Socks by Dr. Seuss

Have Fun, Train Hard,

Billy :>)

Some great poems in here. I tried out a poetry class this semester at UTK and I am finding it pretty cool...

"may i feel said he"
ee cummings

may i feel said he
(i'll squeal said she
just once said he)
it's fun said she

(may i touch said he
how much said she
a lot said he)
why not said she

(let's go said he
not too far said she
what's too far said he
where you are said she)

may i stay said he
(which way said she
like this said he
if you kiss said she

may i move said he
is it love said she)
if you're willing said he
(but you're killing said she

but it's life said he
but your wife said she
now said he)
ow said she

(tiptop said he
don't stop said she
oh no said he)
go slow said she

(cccome?said he
ummm said she)
you're divine!said he
(you are Mine said she)

He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her.

Jesus Christ - John 8:7

SICK

"I cannot go to school today,"
Said little Peggy Ann McKay,
"I have the measles and the mumps,
A gash, a rash, and purple bumps.
My mouth is wet, my throat is dry,
I'm going blind in my right eye.
My tonsils are as big as rocks,
I've counted sixteen chicken pox
And there's one more--that's seventeen,
And don't you think my face looks green?
My leg is cut, my eyes are blue--
It might be instamatic flu.
I cough and sneeze and gasp and choke,
I'm sure that my left leg is broke--
My hip hurts when I move my chin,
My belly button's caving in,
My back is wrenched, my ankle's sprained,
My 'pendix pains each time it rains.
My nose is cold, my toes are numb,
I have a sliver in my thumb.
My neck is stiff, my voice is weak,
I hardly whisper when I speak.
My tongue is filling up my mouth,
I think my hair is falling out.
My elbow's bent, my spine ain't straight,
My temperature is one-o-eight.
My brain is shrunk, I cannot hear,
There is a hole inside my ear.
I have a hangnail, and my heart is--what?
What's that? What's that you say?
You say today is---Saturday?
G'bye, I'm going out to play!"

~Shel Silverstein~

best rest day ever.

21-15-9
Pull-ups
Clean & Jerk 115lbs
Push-ups
Row 500m X 3

25/M/208#

did Linda yesterday, but wasn't able to post until today. As rx'd 39:36

Deadlift: 314
Bench: 210
Clean: 165

It was over a 4 minute improvement since the last time. But I did just cleans instead of squat-cleans

The Four Agreements
From the Toltec Religion...precursors of the Aztecs...
-Be Impeccable With Your Word-
Speak with integrity. Say only what you mean. Avoid using the word to speak against yourself or to gossip about others. Use the power of your word in the direction of truth and love.
-Don't Take Anything Personally-
Nothing others do is because of you. What others say and do is a projection of their own reality, their own dream. When you are immune to the opinions and actions of others, you won't be the victim of needless suffering.
-Don't Make Assumptions-
Find the courage to ask questions and to express what you really want. Communicate with others as clearly as you can to avoid misunderstandings, sadness and drama. With just this one agreement, you can completely transform your life.
-Always Do Your Best-
Your best is going to change from moment to moment; it will be different when you are healthy as opposed to when you are sick. Under any circumstances, simply do your best and you will avoid self-judgement, self-abouse and regret.

I'm not sure if this is poem - but it is a good way to live.

Whose woods these are I think I know
His house is in the village, though
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake
The only other sounds the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake

These woods are lovely dark and deep
But I have promises to keep
And miles to go before I sleep
And miles to go before I sleep.

-Robert Frost

You open the door and step inside.
Where? Inside your heart.
Now imagine your pain as a white ball of healing light.
That's right, your pain.
The pain itself is a white ball of healing light...

...I don't think so.

This is your life, good to the last drop
Doesn't get any better than this
and it's ending one moment at a time

This isn't a seminar, this isn't a weekend retreat
Where you are now you can't even imagine what the bottom will be like
Only after disaster can we be resurrected
It's only after you've lost everything that you're free to do anything
Nothing is static, everything is evolving, everything is falling apart.

You are not a beautiful and unique snowflake
You are the same decaying organic matter as everything else
We are all part of the same compost heap
You have to give up
You have to realize that someday you will die
Until you know that, you are useless.

You are not your bank account
You are not the clothes you wear
You are not the contents of your wallet
You are not your bowel cancer
You are not your grande latte
You are not the car you drive
You are not your f***ing khaki's
You think you own the stuff but the stuff owns you
To hell with Martha Stewart, she's arranging deck chairs on the Titanic

I say let me never be complete
I say may I never be content
I say deliver me from Swedish furniture
I say deliver me from clever arts
I say deliver me from clear skin and perfect teeth
I say you have to give up
I say evolve, and let the chips fall where they may

This is your life,
and it's ending one moment at a time
So, I want you to hit me as hard as you can.
I said I want you to hit me as hard as you can.

Welcome to Fight Club
If this is your first night...you have to fight

The Tao of Tyler Durden

Nicole - you are a true inspiration. Thanks for the leadership.

"NO PRISONERS!"
"NO MERCY!"

- Leonidas and Dilios - 300

What is love?
What is this longing in our hearts for togetherness?
Is it not the sweetest flower?
Does not this flower of love have the fragrant aroma of fine, fine diamonds?
Does not the wind love the dirt?
Is not love not unlike the unlikely not it is unlikened to?
Are you with someone tonight?
Do not question your love.
Take your lover by the hand.
Release the power within yourself.
You heard me, release the power.
Tame the wild cosmos with a whisper.
Conquer heaven with one intimate caress.
That's right don't be shy.
Whip out everything you got...
and do it in the butt.

By Leon Phelps

A classic of our time. For those that don't know the source of this brilliant message of love, you must see The Ladies Man movie.

MULGA BILL'S BICYCLE by A.B. "Banjo" Paterson

'Twas Mulga Bill, from Eaglehawk, that caught the cycling craze;
He turned away the good old horse that served him many days;
He dressed himself in cycling clothes, resplendent to be seen;
He hurried off to town and bought a shining new machine;
And as he wheeled it through the door, with air of lordly pride,
The grinning shop assistant said, "Excuse me, can you ride?"

"See here, young man," said Mulga Bill, "from Walgett to the sea,
From Conroy's Gap to Castlereagh, there's none can ride like me.
I'm good all round at everything as everybody knows,
Although I'm not the one to talk - I hate a man that blows.
But riding is my special gift, my chiefest, sole delight;
Just ask a wild duck can it swim, a wildcat can it fight.
There's nothing clothed in hair or hide, or built of flesh or steel,
There's nothing walks or jumps, or runs, on axle, hoof, or wheel,
But what I'll sit, while hide will hold and girths and straps are tight:
I'll ride this here two-wheeled concern right straight away at sight."

'Twas Mulga Bill, from Eaglehawk, that sought his own abode,
That perched above Dead Man's Creek, beside the mountain road.
He turned the cycle down the hill and mounted for the fray,
But 'ere he'd gone a dozen yards it bolted clean away.
It left the track, and through the trees, just like a silver steak,
It whistled down the awful slope towards the Dead Man's Creek.

It shaved a stump by half an inch, it dodged a big white-box:
The very wallaroos in fright went scrambling up the rocks,
The wombats hiding in their caves dug deeper underground,
As Mulga Bill, as white as chalk, sat tight to every bound.
It struck a stone and gave a spring that cleared a fallen tree,
It raced beside a precipice as close as close could be;
And then as Mulga Bill let out one last despairing shriek
It made a leap of twenty feet into the Dean Man's Creek.

'Twas Mulga Bill, from Eaglehawk, that slowly swam ashore:
He said, "I've had some narrer shaves and lively rides before;
I've rode a wild bull round a yard to win a five-pound bet,
But this was the most awful ride that I've encountered yet.
I'll give that two-wheeled outlaw best; it's shaken all my nerve
To feel it whistle through the air and plunge and buck and swerve.
It's safe at rest in Dead Man's Creek, we'll leave it lying still;
A horse's back is good enough henceforth for Mulga Bill."

Some truly deep and inspiring words today, the best I've ever seen on a rest day. The poem above is one my teachers read to my classes during primary school and is by the same poet who wrote "Waltzing Mathilda." While not as deep as some of the other works posted today it is just too funny not to share (at least the warped Aussie sense of humour finds it funny).

If you are going to win any battle, you have to do one thing. You have to make the mind run the body. Never let the body tell the mind what to do... the body is never tired if the mind is not tired.

-General George S. Patton

A perfect quote for every one here pushing through the WODs.

Wow, just like last November's poetry day. I'll read through tonight. Thanks to all in advance.

Still on IR so did "Tabata Ski legs":

Jumping Lunge 112
Knees to Elbows 47
Box Jump 24" 82
Sit-ups 68
Squats 140

Total 367

"Johnny's in the basement mixing up the medicine / I'm on the pavement thinkin' about the Government".

Bob Dylan - Subterranean Homesick Blues

Strong work, Nicole.

29/M/175

Couldn't get to Linda yesterday, so I completed a 50% version (rest week) today.

DL: 135
BP: 95
Clean: 75

18:00

I've been trying to post the first 12 lines of L'Inferno, but I can't get this bloody computer to allow be to write in verse. Anyway, that's my pick. I can't wait to read everyone's picks. This is, bar none, my favorite rest day subject, further proof that CF can't be explained-only experienced.

My First Kiss

She drove a big ol' Lincoln with suicide doors
And a sewing machine in the back
And a light bulb that looked like an alligator egg
Was mounted up front on the hood

And she had an Easter bonnet that had been signed by Tennessee Ernie Ford
And she always had saw dust in her hair
And she cut two holes in the back of her dress
and she had these scapular wings
That were covered with feathers and electrical tape
And when she got good and drunk
She would sing about Elkheart, Indiana
Where the wind is strong and folks mind their own business

And she had at least a hundred old baseballs that she'd taken from kids
And she collected bones of all kinds
And she lived in a trailer under a bridge
And she made her own whiskey and gave cigarettes to kids
And she'd been struck by lightning seven or eight times
And she hated the mention of rain

And she made up her own language
And she wore rubber boots
And she could fix anything with string
And her lips were like cherries

And she was stronger than any man
And she smelled like gasoline and Rootbeer Fizz
And she put mud on a bee sting I got at the creek
And she gave me my very first kiss
And she gave me my very first kiss

Talking 'bout my little Kathleen
She's just a fine young thing
Someday she'll wear my ring
My little Kathleen

- Tom Waits

Bingo, how's the shoulder coming along? John Messano, what did the MRI reveal? Kate, what's this about a messed up arm?

CFers I'd like to see interviewed: Kate, gaucoin, Tim Hamilton, and Kelly Moore.

“IF”

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you
But make allowance for their doubting too,
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream--and not make dreams your master,
If you can think--and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it all on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings--nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much,
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And--which is more--you'll be a Man(Marine Officer), my son!

--Rudyard Kipling

O wad some Power the giftie gie us
To see oursels as ithers see us!
It wad frae monie a blunder free us,
An' foolish notion:
What airs in dress an' gait wad lea'e us,
An' ev'n devotion!

Final verse of To A Louse by Robert Burns.

Awesome work Nicole! Wasn't going to bother with this WOD until i watched the video and i went straight out and did it. In 48 painful minutes...

Understand this; that scag and his floozy...they're gonna die!
- Big Bopper

A good friend will help you move.
A true friend will help you move a body.
- Unknown

I know not what weapons World War III will be fought with, But I know that World War IV will be fought with sticks and stones.
-Mark Twain

Get some, Go again..
-Henry Rollins

Cyber Shepard

HA HA HA HA HA

We all read it at work!

*
*
*
No man is an island,
Entire of itself.
Each is a piece of the continent,
A part of the main.
If a clod be washed away by the sea,
Europe is the less.
As well as if a promontory were.
As well as if a manner of thine own
Or of thine friend's were.
Each man's death diminishes me,
For I am involved in mankind.
Therefore, send not to know
For whom the bell tolls,
It tolls for thee.

John Donne
1624
*
unfortunately not on any of those 2 sites.

No man is an island,
Entire of itself.
Each is a piece of the continent,
A part of the main.
If a clod be washed away by the sea,
Europe is the less.
As well as if a promontory were.
As well as if a manner of thine own
Or of thine friend's were.
Each man's death diminishes me,
For I am involved in mankind.
Therefore, send not to know
For whom the bell tolls,
It tolls for thee.

John Donne

#315 Fat Slice here you go,

The Emperor of Ice-Cream

Call the roller of big cigars,
The muscular one, and bid him whip
In kitchen cups concupiscent curds.
Let the wenches dawdle in such dress
As they are used to wear, and let the boys
Bring flowers in last month's newspapers.
Let be be finale of seem.
The only emperor is the emperor of ice-cream.

Take from the dresser of deal,
Lacking the three glass knobs, that sheet
On which she embroidered fantails once
And spread it so as to cover her face.
If her horny feet protrude, they come
To show how cold she is, and dumb.
Let the lamp affix its beam.
The only emperor is the emperor of ice-cream.

Love that one too. I too have the first 15 lines of the canterbury tales burned into memory, lol!

"It's only after you've lost everything," Tyler says, "that you're free to do anything."
Chuck Palahniuk, Fight Club, Chapter 8

"To speak of 'limits to growth' under a capitalistic market economy is as meaningless as to speak of limits of warfare under a warrior society. The moral pieties, that are voiced today by many well-meaning environmentalists, are as naive as the moral pieties of multinationals are manipulative. Capitalism can no more be 'persuaded' to limit growth than a human being can be 'persuaded' to stop breathing. Attempts to 'green' capitalism, to make it 'ecological', are doomed by the very nature of the system as a system of endless growth."
Murray Bookchin Remaking Society

Nietzche
"You need chaos in your soul to give birth to a dancing star."

Not for nothing....and I know this isn't gonna bode well with the CrossFit community, but.....if Greg A can do 100 kipping pull-ups in such a great time, does that mean he can do 100 strict pull-ups in near the same time? Don't get me wrong, I respect his strength and dedication, but....?

Failing and Flying
by Jack Gilbert

Everyone forgets that Icarus also flew.
It’s the same when love comes to an end,
or the marriage fails and people say
they knew it was a mistake, that everybody
said it would never work. That she was
old enough to know better.

But anything worth doing is worth doing badly.
Like being there by that summer ocean
on the other side of the island while
love was fading out of her, the stars
burning so extravagantly those nights that
anyone could tell you they would never last.
Every morning she was asleep in my bed
like a visitation, the gentleness in her
like antelope standing in the dawn mist.
Each afternoon I watched her coming back
through the hot stony field after swimming,
the sea light behind her and the huge sky
on the other side of that. Listened to her
while we ate lunch. How can they say
the marriage failed?

Like the people who came back from Provence (when it was Provence)
and said it was pretty but the food was greasy.
I believe Icarus was not failing as he fell,
but just coming to the end of triumph.

Just watched the workout demo - Nicole is poetry in motion!

Jose Manuel Miguel Xavier Gonzales,
in a few months it will be Spring,
the snow of Winter will flee away,
the ice will vanish,
and the air will become soft and balmy.

In short, Jose Manuel Xavier Gonzales,
the annual miracle of the year's
awakening will come to pass,
but you won't be here.

The rivulet will run its purling course to the sea,
the timid desert flowers will put forth their
tender shoots,
the glorious valleys of this imperial domain will
blossom as the rose,
still you won't be here.

From every tree top some wildwood songster will
carol his mating song,
butterflies will sport in the sunshine,
the busy bee will hum happily as it pursues its
accustomed vocation,
the gentle breezes will tease the tassels of
wild grasses, and all nature.

Jose Manuel Miguel Xavier Gonzales, will be glad,
but you won't be here to enjoy it;
for I command the Sheriff or some officer or
officers of this county to lead you out to
some remote spot,
swing you up by the neck to a nodding bough
of some sturdy oak,
and there let you hang till you are dead, dead, dead.

And then, Jose Manuel Miguel Xavier Gonzales,
I command further
that such officer or officers retire quietly
from your swinging, dangling corpse,
that the vultures may descend from the heavens
upon your filthy body
and pick the putrid flesh there,
till nothing remains but the bare bleached
bones of a cold-blooded,
copper-colored, blood-thirsty, chili-eating,
guilty sheep-herding son-of-a-bitch!"

ISSAC PARKER
District Judge
1883

I'm awestruck by her power and strength
and can't help but be an honest fan
but I just wish she wasn't always smilin
while she's doing more than I can.

Nice goin, Nicole. Do try to make it look more difficult, please.

Or, alternately,

Quite a display of power and strength
By a leading CrossFit lass
But this old goat would offer one request
Please don't smile while you're kickin my a**.

"He who kisses the joy as it flies
lives an eternity in each sunrise"
-William Blake

Nicole you look great on that!

or, alternately

Quite a display of power and strength
from a powerful CrossFit lass.
Just one request from this old goat
Please don't smile while you're kicking my .....

"the stars will come out over and over
the hyacinths rise like flames
from the windswept turf down the middle of upper Broadway
where the desolate take the sun
the days will run together and stream into years
as the rivers freeze and burn
and I ask myself and you, which of our visions will claim us
which will we claim
how will we go on living
how will we touch, what will we know
what will we say to each other."

From Night and Days
Adrienne Rich

WOW! Took yesterday off and did "Linda" today. That workout was unreal. Was goin to scale the DL but my friend convinced me to try and do it as rx'ed. Left me begging for mercy.
DL 275 (never DL'ed more than 265 before)
BP 180
CL 135
53:00

I hope I can move in the morning.

Though much is taken, much abides; and though
We are not now that strength which in old days
Moved earth and heaven; that which we are, we are;
One equal temper of heroic hearts,
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.

Lord Alfred Tennyson » Ulysses

Rest day tomorrow and Saturday instead.

Today: 2000m row
Time: 9.16.6
Will get it under 9:00 next time.

For an hour,
did I CrossFit.
After that,
My Lunch,
I lost it.

For an hour,
did I CrossFit.
After that,
My Lunch,
I lost it.

Thks for yesterday's workout, which I did today..
m/34/205/6'0

Deadlifts 225 Lbs
Bench 155 Lbs
Clean 135 Lbs

killer workout!

#346 Gary - No, this doesn't mean he can do 100 strict pullups in the same time. That is the point - in doing kipping he has done the same amount of work in less time, and is therefore producing more power.

"Ask not for lighter burdens, but for stronger backs."
-Roosevelt

Anyone else hurting when as they
wake
stand
sit
walk
smile
turn
bend
chew
drink
think

Not that I do at all, but was just wondering.

Bring tomorrow's WOD on!

M/36/163/5'8

Linda:
Deadlift- 250
Bench- 165
Clean- 125 (full squat)

Time 26:40

Then I needed to lay down for a while

#346 Gary, to second response #360 by chopper and take it further by analogy.

Consider the snatch - an explosive power movement, ground to overhead. Now, you could take a weight that you snatch, and instead of "jumping it up", you could muscle it overhead without the explosive triple-extension. And if you used good form, it would be a good movement for strength. But you'd be missing the key aspects (key to CrossFit's aims) of explosiveness, power (increased cycle time), and general athleticism as far as complex, fast, functional movement goes.

These are the reasons (as I understand it) that the kipping pullup is the default pullup of CF, rather than strict pullups.

Hope that helped.

how deep are we supposed to go on these cleans for linda?

m/23/200

deadlift-300
bench-205
clean-155

45:01

Carolyn Burnham: What the hell do you think you're doing?

Lester Burnham: I'm going to whale on my pecs and then do my back.

I just want to commend crossfit for today's WOD. Nothing like exercising the mind. I am in my senior year of an Adolescent English Language Arts Education degree at Miami University (OH) and am preparing for student teaching in a little over a month. Even when not prescribed we all need to keep up with this addition to the WOD. We can kick the stereotype of meat-head jocks while working smarter and harder than those guys taking up my entire squat rack at the gym to do biceps curls.

There is no frigate like a book

-Emily Dickinson

"Wherever you stand, be the soul of that place."

Rumi

"Live in such a way that those who know you but don't know God will come to know God because they know you."

"It's funny how, things work out
The ones we need, don't know we're there.
If I sands, and you were the oceans,
The moon would be, why your pulled to me.
I sleep so I don't have to feel.
Let me sleep some more.....

I hope that dreams- come when I die,
so we can talk- I won't wake up.
I'll ask you how, your life turned out.
I 'll never know, that I'm just dreaming.
Let me sleep some more!!!!!
- Armor for Sleep-

William Ernest Henley. 1849–1903

Invictus

OUT of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

Nicole truelly inspiring work as always!

"A true master of strategy gives to others the joy of living and causes them to feel the preciousness of human life."

Takuan Soho

Nicole you are a true master of strategy.

Oh, if you're a bird, be an early bird
And catch the worm for your breakfast plate
If you're a bird, be an early early bird-
But if you're a worm, sleep late.

Early Bird
Shel Silverstein

Nice to see some other Rollins fans. His intensity has always inspired me, and this poem carried me through my adolescence.

I know you
You were too short
You had bad skin
You couldn't talk to them very well
Words didn't seem to work
They lied when they came out of your mouth

You tried so hard to understand them
You wanted to be part of what was happening
You saw them having fun
And it seemed like such a mystery
Almost magic

Made you think that there was something wrong with you
You'd look in the mirror and try to find it
You thought that you were ugly
And that everyone was looking at you

So you learned to be invisible
To look down
To avoid conversation

The hours, days, weekends
Ah, the weekend nights alone
Where were you?
In the basement?
In the attic?
In your room?
Working some job - just to have something to do.
Just to have a place to put yourself
Just to have a way to get away from them
A chance to get away from the ones that made you feel
so strange and ill at ease inside yourself

Did you ever get invited to one of their parties?
You sat and wondered if you would go or not
For hours you imagined the scenarios that might transpire
They would laugh at you
If you would know what to do
If you'd have the right things on
If they would notice that you came from a different planet

Did you get all brave in your thoughts?
Like you going to be able to go in there and deal with it
and have a great time.
Did you think that you might be the life of the party?
That all these people were gonna talk to you and you
would find out that you were wrong?
That you had a lot of friends and you weren't so
strange after all?

Did you end up going?
Did they mess with you?
Did they single you out?
Did you find out that you were invited because they
thought you were so weird?

Yeah, I think I know you
You spent a lot of time full of hate
A hate that was pure sunshine
A hate that saw for miles
A hate that kept you up at night
A hate that filled your every waking moment
A hate that carried you for a long time

Yes, I think I know you
You couldn't figure out what they saw in the way they lived

Home was not home
Your room was home
A corner was home
The place they weren't, that was home

I know you

You're sensitive and you hide it because you fear
getting stepped on one more time
It seems that when you show a part of yourself that is
the least bit vulnerable someone takes advantage of you
One of them steps on you

They mistake kindliness for weakness
But you know the difference
You've been the brunt of their weakness for years
And strength is something you know a bit about because
you had to be strong to keep yourself alive

You know yourself very well now
And you don't trust people
You know them too well

You try to find that special person
Someone you can be with
Someone you can touch
Someone you can talk to
Someone you don't feel so strange around
And you find that they don't really exist
You feel closer to people on movie screens

Yeah, I think I know you
You spend a lot of time daydreaming
And people have made comment to that effect
Telling you that you're self involved, and self centred

But they don't know, do they?
About the long night shifts alone
About the years of keeping yourself company
All the nights you wrapped your arms around yourself
so you could imagine someone holding you
The hours of indecision, self doubt
The intense depression
The blinding hate
The rage that made you stagger
The devastation of rejection

Well, maybe they do know
But if they do, they sure do a good job of hiding it
It astounds you how they can be so smooth
How they seem to pass through life as if life itself
was some divine gift
And it infuriates you to watch yourself with your
apparent skill at finding every way possible to screw it up

For you life is a long trip
Terrifying and wonderful
Birds sing to you at night
The rain and the sun the changing seasons are true friends
Solitude is a hard won ally, faithful and patient

Yeah, I think I know you

Did Linda today to catch up. Ouchie.

25/M/5'8"/160
Damn this was the hardest crossfit I've done by far. My first time doin Linda
Deadlift 240lbs
Bench 160lbs
Clean 120lbs
as rxd 39 min.
Can't wait to do it again

Emily Brontë. 1818–1848

736. Remembrance

COLD in the earth—and the deep snow piled above thee,
Far, far removed, cold in the dreary grave!
Have I forgot, my only Love, to love thee,
Sever'd at last by Time's all-severing wave?

Now, when alone, do my thoughts no longer hover
Over the mountains, on that northern shore,
Resting their wings where heath and fern-leaves cover
Thy noble heart for ever, ever more?

Cold in the earth—and fifteen wild Decembers
From those brown hills have melted into spring:
Faithful, indeed, is the spirit that remembers
After such years of change and suffering!

Sweet Love of youth, forgive, if I forget thee,
While the world's tide is bearing me along;
Other desires and other hopes beset me,
Hopes which obscure, but cannot do thee wrong!

No later light has lighten'd up my heaven,
No second morn has ever shone for me;
All my life's bliss from thy dear life was given,
All my life's bliss is in the grave with thee.

But when the days of golden dreams had perish'd,
And even Despair was powerless to destroy;
Then did I learn how existence could be cherish'd,
Strengthen'd and fed without the aid of joy.

Then did I check the tears of useless passion—
Wean'd my young soul from yearning after thine;
Sternly denied its burning wish to hasten
Down to that tomb already more than mine.

And, even yet, I dare not let it languish,
Dare not indulge in memory's rapturous pain;
Once drinking deep of that divinest anguish,
How could I seek the empty world again?

The Invitation - by Oriah Mountain Dreamer

It doesn't interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing.

It doesn't interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dream, for the adventure of being alive.

It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon. I want to know if you have touched the centre of your own sorrow, if you have been opened by life's betrayals or have become shrivelled and closed from fear of further pain.

I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide it, or fade it, or fix it.

I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own; if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, be realistic, remember the limitations of being human.

It doesn't interest me if the story you are telling me is true. I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself. If you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul. If you can be faithless and therefore trustworthy.

I want to know if you can see Beauty even when it is not pretty every day. And if you can source your own life from its presence.

I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine, and still stand at the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, 'Yes.'

It doesn't interest me to know where you live or how much money you have. I want to know if you can get up after the night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone and do what needs to be done to feed the children.

It doesn't interest me who you know or how you came to be here. I want to know if you will stand in the centre of the fire with me and not shrink back.

It doesn't interest me where or what or with whom you have studied. I want to know what sustains you from the inside when all else falls away.

I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.

Bring The Man To Me

A Perfect One was traveling through the desert.
He was stretched out around the fire one night
And said to one of his close ones,
"There is a slave loose not far from us.
He escaped today from a cruel master.
His hands are still bound behind his back,
His feet are also shackled.
I can see him right now praying for God's help

Go to him.
Ride to that distant hill;
About 100 feet up and to the right
You will find a small cave.

He is there.
Do not say a single word to him.

Bring the man to me.

God requests that I personally untie his body
And press my lips to his wounds."

The disciple mounts his horse and within two hours
Arrives at the small mountain cave.
The slave sees him coming, the slave looks frightened.
The disciple, on orders not to speak,
Gestures towards the sky, pantomiming:
God saw you in prayer,
Please come with me,
A great teacher has used his heart's divine eye
To know your whereabouts.

The slave can not believe this story,
And begins to shout at the man and tries to run
But trips from his bindings.
The disciple becomes forced to subdue him.

Think of this picture as they now travel:
The million candles in the sky are lit and singing.
Every particle of existence is a dancing altar
That some mysterious force worships.
The earth is a church floor whereupon
In the middle of a glorious night
Walks a slave, weeping, tied to a rope behind a horse,
With a speechless rider
Taking him toward the unknown.

Several time with all of his might the slave
Tries to break free,
Feeling he is being returned to captivity.

The rider stops, dismounts — brings his eyes
Near the prisoners eyes.
A deep kindness there communicates an unbelievable hope.
The rider motions — soon, soon you will be free.
Tears roll down from the riders cheeks
In happiness for this man.

Anger, all this fighting and tormenting want,
Sweetheart
God has seen you and sent a close one.
Sweetheart
God has seen your heart in prayer and sent Hafiz

- Hafiz

38/M/195--Syracuse NY

I LOVE the end of that video, where she says "I want to get a good time, but then you're like I just want to finish." How many times have I looked at a WOD thought "I can do this sub ten" then as ten minutes rolls past and I'm out of breath and about half way done I say "Okay, sub 15 won't be bad" then later "No shame in sub 20"... Why I love CrossFit!

And since no one else has taken it:

HORSE LATITUDES
When the still sea conspires an armor
And her sullen and aborted
Currents breed tiny monsters
True sailing is dead

Awkward instant
And the first animal is jettisoned
Legs furiously pumping
Their stiff green gallop
And heads bob up

Poise

Delicate

Pause

Consent

In mute nostril agony

Carefully refined
And sealed over
--James Douglas Morrison

I don't know if this was on any of the websites, but his is one of my favorite poems. (probably because I'm a huge LSU Tiger fan)

The Tyger
by William Blake

Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

In what distant deeps or skies
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand dare sieze the fire?

And what shoulder, & what art.
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand? & what dread feet?

What the hammer? what the chain?
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? what dread grasp
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?

When the stars threw down their spears,
And watered heaven with their tears,
Did he smile his work to see?
Did he who made the Lamb make thee?

Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?

1794

28 yom 225#

10 minutes of continuous single arm DB snatch 55#
92 reps
blown away by the guys doing 170 in the same amount of time. Hoo-ah parkerfirecrossfit!

Another one of my favorites, the Naval Hymn, "Eternal Father Strong to Save"

Eternal Father, strong to save,
Whose arm hath bound the restless wave,
Who bidd'st the mighty ocean deep
Its own appointed limits keep;
Oh, hear us when we cry to Thee,
For those in peril on the sea!
O Christ! Whose voice the waters heard
And hushed their raging at Thy word,
Who walked'st on the foaming deep,
And calm amidst its rage didst sleep;
Oh, hear us when we cry to Thee,
For those in peril on the sea!
Most Holy Spirit! Who didst brood
Upon the chaos dark and rude,
And bid its angry tumult cease,
And give, for wild confusion, peace;
Oh, hear us when we cry to Thee,
For those in peril on the sea!
O Trinity of love and power!
Our brethren shield in danger's hour;
From rock and tempest, fire and foe,
Protect them wheresoe'er they go;
Thus evermore shall rise to Thee
Glad hymns of praise from land and sea.

And one more. This isn't a poem, but a quote I have always liked. When they were planning the Voyager missions, and they had to decide what music to place on the "Golden Record" that Voyager would carry incase it was ever discovered by other life in the universe. They got a group of scientists, artist, musicians together who worked to decide what images, sounds, and musice should be placed on this record. When they got around to the music, on person is quoted as saying:

"We could just put all Beethoven; but that would just be bragging."

So many great posts on the site! I love it ~ I just wish I had time to read it all.
Allison ~ loved the article you posted,,, I will have to find a way to print that out!

Did Linda today as yesterday was a rest day. Worked out for the best since I got to watch Nicoles' workout prior to mine and got super motivated! You rock girl! I feel the way about cleans that you do about bench!

35yo/f/131
Deadlift scaled to 165 lbs
Bench scaled to 115 lbs
Cleans scaled to 75 lbs (still suck at these! )
24:50

On my signal, unleash hell.

-Maximus

Candy is dandy, but liquor is quicker. -- Ogden Nash

Just watched Nicole complete Linda. When she spoke about being able to manage the reps on the clean but the bench was more difficult. That seems to be one of those WTF moments. These moments are when a person slides over that intial feeling of never being in that specific position out breath and very fatigued. These are special moments and to me what Crossfit is all about. Which is, doing things I am unfamilar and making those things very familar. Good effort Nicole!

Pablo Neruda. For all of the greatest moments of my life.

I Crave Your Mouth, Your Voice, Your Hair

I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair.
Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets.
Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day
I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps.

I hunger for your sleek laugh,
your hands the color of a savage harvest,
hunger for the pale stones of your fingernails,
I want to eat your skin like a whole almond.

I want to eat the sunbeam flaring in your lovely body,
the sovereign nose of your arrogant face,
I want to eat the fleeting shade of your lashes,

and I pace around hungry, sniffing the twilight,
hunting for you, for your hot heart,
like a puma in the barrens of Quitratue.

Now, what could be more fun than finding yourself in such a delicious agony?

Brother bringeth brother his bane,
and sons of sisters split kinships bonds.
Not ever a man spareth another.
Hard is the world, whoredom waxeth.
Axe time and sword time, wind time and wolf time, ere the world waneth.

-- A Norse lament

TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT

22/150

WOD as rx'd

DL 225
BP 155
CL 115

17:52

About a min. off of my pr of 16:08...next time.

TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT

Nicole you are amazing!!! I want your autograph. Knew I shoulda got it when I was at the cert seminar, Nov 3/4 at Santa Cruz. Been inspired and committed since then. Seeing this has just added more fuel to the fire!

Kate (Crossfit Newcastle, Australia)

WOW! I looked at Nicole pushing through that workout at least a dozen times! It is so rare to find such determination with such beauty! Nicole will be somebodys beautiful reward!! God Bless Them!!! Thanks for the motivation

Another 3 PR's all around for me!

Squat: 365 lb
Press: 185 lb
Deadlift: 425 lb

Total: 975 lb
3.7 x body weight
Up from 920 on 9/1/2007.

My first CFT was December 2006, where I scored 755 lb.

And as a pleasant surprise tonight, I ran into an instructor from Crossfit Atlanta at my local LA Fitness. I think I'll have to visit for one of their open workouts.

Allison, funny you should select Auden. Mine is the Auden poem recited in "Four Weddings and a Funeral".

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.

I read this over and over when my dad died. I still bawl like a baby when I read it.

Nicole is so pretty and strong! Her voice is like warm honey!