F You Wright Brothers

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I hate flying. I hate flying more than anything I hate. I hate a lot of things. Strongly.

I just got off 2 flights coming back from watching the Greatest Team in the History of Every Sport Ever continue to prove their greatness. Both flights were the most awful experience of my life. I never want to step on a plane again. I am forever a driver only.

I am an awful person when traveling. It is entirely because I am so anxiety ridden by the prospect of my life resting 100% in statistics and probability that are in absolutely no way shape or form controlled by me. For a severely OCD alpha male control freak flying is the worst experience possible: strap me into a space made for people 1 foot and 100 pounds smaller than me, do this in a small tube filled with a bunch of other people I don’t know, force me to listen to people i don’t know and in no way trust, and then send the small tube hurtling through the bumpiest wooden roller coaster ride ever and give me only a small port hole to stare out of for hours on end wondering at what instant the fuselage is going to tear apart and we are all going to hurtle 6 miles to the Earth and die. Before this I go through the anxiety of take off, the “yeah sure I trust this person I haven’t even seen with my own eyes let alone meet or spend any time with at the controls of this tube filled with people traveling at 400 mph on a road that is traversed constantly by similar flying tubes all controlled by humans listening to other humans they can’t see. Don’t even get me started on landing. If a flight attendant offered to punch me repeatedly to knock me unconscious as we descended into Boston tonight I would have gladly accepted.

This anxiety makes me evil from the second I get to the airport to the second I leave. I am rude. I don’t say please or thank you, and certainly don’t look people in the eye. I knock over old ladies, spit on children, and even kicked a cat once (never a dog). Being 6’5″ and somewhat goofy looking I stick out normally let alone when Im barreling down a terminal scowling at everything in my path and not caring for anything my back trailing behind me takes out (try wheeling one of these around that is made for someone 5’2″). People see me, they see my hate, and they instantly hate me back.

The mutual hatred combined with my institutional level anxiety turns me into the worst person ever by the time I am at my destination. The second we get off the plane, which is after I have sworn not two quietly under my breath at anyone taking more than .2 seconds to get off the plane, I wish I knew some sort of drug dealer. I want to become a junkie. I want to commit felonies. I want to drive my car into every single person who eyed me or I saw and accused of in some way ruining my travel experience. Which is everyone on Earth. I hate the people who invented flying. If I knew the Wright Bros. back in the day I would have burned all their stupid wooden planes.

After about 10 minutes of driving from the airport all the irrationality subsides and I turn back into the semi-normal person I am on a daily basis. I put my travel hatred in a box and lock it deep down in the recesses of my being because at this point in my journey home I usually realize how awful a person I just was the past 5-8 hours. I think the first part of accepting you have a problem is admitting you have a problem right? I have a problem with flying.

See in reality I can’t drive everywhere. I have relatives I like in states far away. Boston is awesome but man it’s cold as shit for too long and I will be the angriest person ever if I couldn’t leave at some point in February. My hatred of traveling is completely insane, but I’m also not really a sane person.

Flying is a necessarily evil in my life, just like toes to bar are necessary evils to a fitness enthusiast. Many of you will look at this WOD today and want to become me on travel days. Toes to bar aren’t fun. They hurt. We suck at them. They make our hands turn into pumice rock especially in the winter. They aren’t a barbell. They probably are in some way responsible for every major natural disaster ever.

But we got to do them. Have to. They are an excellent way to develop strength in the core and muscles of the back, they develop coordination with the kip, and like all gymnastics movements give us a better understanding of how to control our body in space. Never doing toes to bar would be like never flying: you could do it but you would be severely lacking in life very quickly.

Take a look at the video on the toes to bar and pay close attention to the kip. The key to this movement no matter what your scale is the aggressive pulling down on the bar with your straight arms. This brings your body up and back, decreasing the range of motion of work your core has to do to get your feet up to the bar, knees to your elbows, or knees to your chest. Developing this kip is essential to the toes to bar. Commit to it. Suck up not going “Rx TTB” in a WOD because you actually work on stringing your kip together rather than dangle like a retarded monkey on every rep. Even if you are just starting off and doing hanging tucks do them with the proper kip. You will thank me in the end.

Pray we never see each other in an airport. I won’t be nice.

httpv://youtu.be/Iuq4nR40HAk

TUESDAY

BASE
Strength: Pull-Ups
– Work with your coach on either finding a 3 rep max weighted pull-up, or doing an EMOM of strict pull-ups

WOD: 75 Toes to Bar
– Every 1:15 perform 10 Wall Ball 20/14

PLUS
Strength: Pull-Ups
– Work with your coach on either finding a 3 rep max weighted pull-up, or doing an EMOM of strict pull-ups

WOD: 75 Toes to Bar
– Every 1:15 perform 10 Wall Ball 24/16

THE PROGRAM
1. 5m AMRAP
Wall climb + forward roll into pistol, alternate legs

2. Weighted Pull-up
Find a 3 rep max

3. WOD: 75 Toes to Bar
– EMOM perform 10 wall ball 30/20*
note different timing

4. Push Press
5 sets of 2 reps