Step It Up!

E-2-WOD

50 flights of Art Museum Stairs in under an hour (so my car would not get towed)

My arms were envious of my legs this morning. Jealous that they were pain free and still able to function at full capacity. I figured it was time to stop the green-eyed bickering and crush my calves and quads with a little stair workout.

Plus, it's not "my weekend" with my children, and I had some serious time to kill. The most painful part of divorce is the division of the parenting time, treating the children like they are scheduled little parts of the week that are shuffled back and forth from person to person. When I was married, free time was a delicious commodity, one I craved. On the off chance that I got it, I was on the serious time clock. Now, entire weekends without my children seem endless.

So did running up and down 50 flights of stairs. There was plenty to keep me entertained though. For the first ten flights, there was a wedding party taking photos on the stairs. I am sure the unseasonably tanned bride was thrilled to have an almost-middle-aged psycho woman in a black hoodie with crazy blond hair in the background of her wedding photos. I tried to steer clear of them, but it seemed as if they kept moving towards me.

By far the most annoying thing of the day was all of the people recreating the Rocky scene for their personal video and photo collections. Each of them thought they were original, hilarious and are probably home right now loading that lame-ass shit on their facebooks. Ugh.

Then, there was the heckler. Yes friends, I got heckled. This 45ish guy and his kid thought it was hilarious to count my flights and let me know when my pace was slowing up. Horrifically, the teasing turned into flirting. The Dad asked me if I would like to quit and go have lunch with them. I managed to dodge that, and then he asked me if I would give them a ride when I was done. Pretending to be deaf to all humans over the age of ten, I started to talk only to the kid. Who had the nerve to challenge me to a race! Game on little man!

In the first heat I was nice. Let's face it, I had 31 floors under the belt at this point, and I was running pretty low on gas. We tied. When he cockily called for a rematch, I smoked his little ass. I took each of the 70 steps two at a time, and made that kid look like a little school girl. I realize at this point it seems as if I need a life, but that up and down shit was getting kind of boring, and I needed to pass the time.

As I bid farewell to the crazy Dad and slow-ass kid, they asked me what I was doing for the rest of the day. I told him I had five little boys who were waiting at home for me. They were all too happy to see me go then!

Home would have been a much safer place to go. . . My truck somehow seemed to steer itself to Walnut Street, and I coincidentally picked the parking garage next to my favorite store. Lucky Brand Jeans. After getting a little luckier than I had planned, I headed down to lulu lemon athletica, where I met my two new best friends Anna and skinny girl with perfect curly hair.

I walked into lulu wearing a Crossfit hoodie. This was without a doubt the best choice I made all day. They treated me like athletic royalty. "Oh, well you know how important the right gear is, cause you're a Crossfitter... Yeah well, I tried that Crossfit, but I got beat up and had bruises the first day. It was too much for me...You better go with the pants that have plenty of give since you'll be doing all those box jumps..."

I felt like Mia Hamm as I ripped off shirt after shirt to expose my hot new sports bra. I bought a pair of hundred dollar pants that better make me run faster, squat 200 pounds, and make my ass look like JLo's. Props to lulu lemon for having a rocking staff, amazing clothes and a dressing room you can do burpees in. (I had to make sure my crack was not going to come out of the pants!)

My last stop of the day? City Sports. I finally broke down and bought a pair of five fingers, once described by a gay fashion blogger as "the footwear from hell." After swearing them off for almost a year, my desire to look good has been outweighed by my desire to quiet Steve's bitching about my Nike Shox. Besides, the five fingers came in PINK! Wrap 'em up.

A great day it was, and an even greater night it will be. Third wheeling it to Continental Old City with Rosie Girl and her hottie husband. Martinis and summer rolls for all. Yum.

Maybe I left the man of my dreams on the steps of the art museum with my slow-as-hell future stepson. Maybe the couple on the stairs can photoshop me out the pictures. Maybe next time I'll do 60 flights in under an hour. Maybe my ass will look like JLo's in my new pants. Who knows? These days anything is possible.

One thing is for sure. My arms won't be jealous of my legs tomorrow. I'll be tailgating in a wheelchair.

Sunday's WOD

Heavy Lift:

Carrying the case of Hoegarden out of my truck and into the Limo Bus

7-hour met con

Sprinting back and forth from the cooler to my chair AMRAP

800m brisk walk-hop into the stadium

Sprinting back and forth from the beer stand to my seat (Four rows from the field) AMRAP

Jumping repeatedly while watching the Eagles beat the Skins for a second time!

800m walk to the Limo Bus at a wobbly yet brisk pace