The 2018 Games have begun. I have already participated in a 6:oo am WOD and plan on going back at 5:oo pm. I really liked the work out this morning. Lots of good stretches and then the “Hot Sauce”; rowing, burpees and overhead squats. It had me breathing hard, but it didn’t put me down.
Right now, I am glued to my computer screen, watching the strongest people on the earth compete. The way that Crossfit plays out is complicated. The challenges are a surprise to the athletes. They just have to be physically ready. And they are.
It’s like an amazing, demanding, physical game.
And there’s a huge factor, of kindness, and being a better person.
Surfing certainly isn’t like that.
I have surfed for years and I have never cared to watch competitions, or to compete on a local level.
Surfing to me has always been more of living a nomadic lifestyle; being in love with the beach and the ocean, communing with nature. It’s spiritual. I paddle out and catch beautiful waves. They are smaller now, but at one time, if I didn’t scare the hell out of myself, I didn’t think I was surfing.
Years back, the surf machine began to take over, and sales and markerting polluted the waters. Competition is soul sucking, in surfing. And maybe that’s the reason why the lineups are filled with jackasses. Every overweight, old, blinding, white tourist, wants to sit by me, because they think it’s going to give them a chance. Not to mention the groms that spit and circle me, waiting to paddle battle with granny, or the ones that charge down the line up, to jump in front of me, at the peak. What the F do they think they’re doing?
All of those elements are zero, in the world of Crossfit.
I’m not going to quit surfing.
I’m just going to have to carry my weights with me and find a Box in Mexico!
The games will go on for five days.
The ocean is not going anywhere.
Fish Eye Farm 