He was born an un assuming runt. Bound to be another statistic among the masses in the hormone injected, antibiotic pumped, Butterball Turkey processing machine. Living in a dark warehouse, choking on the feathers of his sick brethren. Barely able to support his non-functional muscles, never being shown how a Turkey should move and certainly no concept of a bracing strategy...as he stood his abdominals were locked in at a 0.1 at best.
But he stumbled upon an unassuming blue warehouse building with what sounded like music blasting inside and vibrated of hundreds...maybe thousands of pounds slamming down from what could be 5, 6...wait maybe 8 feet high. Nervous but excited he walked in the door. As the door shut behind him and he shook hands with the first out of breath, but still smiling, face he encountered, he realized part of him stayed behind that glass door that said Iron Bridge on it.
He was a different bird. Although he felt new to this culture it was clear...no matter how fast or how strong he was...that they were all working together. Each one of them overcoming their own challenges. All of them at different points in their workout slaying thoughts of not finishing, convincing themselves that the fatigue now is nothing compared to the feeling of accomplishment that will rush over them as they GASP "TIME!" on their final rep. The rest is history...
He ate clean, trained dirty and made friends along the way. Most of his fowl friends who ate dirty and trained clean just could not understand.
Some say he rang the PR Bell at Iron Bridge everyday. Others say he never once sacrificed his form for speed. One thing was certain, he cared about this new culture he was part of. He was a leader in a society of overfed, undernourished and soft Americans.
He was a CrossFitter.
With a Partner
500 m row
5 clean and jerks 135# 75#
200m run together
4 clean and jerks 155# 95#
400m run together
3 clean and jerks 185# 115#
800m run together
3 clean and jerks 205# 135#