I've mentioned my Barbie-esque little sister before and her obsessive gym habits. Well, she has kindly introduced me to one hilarious moment after another in the workout world. I'm sure this one takes the cake. During our Christmas vacation at home together, she opened all her gifts, drained the last drip from her mimosa, and strode into the office to clear some floor space.
"What are you doing?" I giggled as I hung, lazily over the back of the sofa.
"I'm doing a 'CrossFit.com' workout," she responded.
"A WHAT?!"
I was more than intrigued, especially after a mid-morning adult beverage.
Without cracking so much as a smirk, she responded, "Watch."
And then she did something that bordered on an eighth grader's "Crazy Eight" game but without the bouncing and, it looked like less fun.
I found myself drawn towards her stand-to-collapse-and back-to-stand motions like a mesmerized circus crowd. She began at a standing position, then dropped down to a yoga-like plank pose, then ever more quickly, condensed herself and stood back up with an enthusiastic hop.
And then, I stumbled over to her carpet space and jumped into sync with her. After two or three we started to look like MTV Back-Up dancers in a Janet Jackson Film. Except instead of ripped jeans and a sexy half top, we wore flannel pj bottoms and sweatshirts. After 8, I started to sweat. Then I stopped.
"What do you call these things?" my heart rate through the roof.
"Burpees."
If you're crazy enough to try this at home, be warned that after 20 or so I found myself sore between every rib, around my belly button, under my butt and above my knees. Pretty much everywhere besides my ankles. I don't recommend the pre-workout mimosa, either.
Oh yeah, and she did 100. Good luck.
"What are you doing?" I giggled as I hung, lazily over the back of the sofa.
"I'm doing a 'CrossFit.com' workout," she responded.
"A WHAT?!"
I was more than intrigued, especially after a mid-morning adult beverage.
Without cracking so much as a smirk, she responded, "Watch."
And then she did something that bordered on an eighth grader's "Crazy Eight" game but without the bouncing and, it looked like less fun.
I found myself drawn towards her stand-to-collapse-and back-to-stand motions like a mesmerized circus crowd. She began at a standing position, then dropped down to a yoga-like plank pose, then ever more quickly, condensed herself and stood back up with an enthusiastic hop.
And then, I stumbled over to her carpet space and jumped into sync with her. After two or three we started to look like MTV Back-Up dancers in a Janet Jackson Film. Except instead of ripped jeans and a sexy half top, we wore flannel pj bottoms and sweatshirts. After 8, I started to sweat. Then I stopped.
"What do you call these things?" my heart rate through the roof.
"Burpees."
If you're crazy enough to try this at home, be warned that after 20 or so I found myself sore between every rib, around my belly button, under my butt and above my knees. Pretty much everywhere besides my ankles. I don't recommend the pre-workout mimosa, either.
Oh yeah, and she did 100. Good luck.
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