Tomorrow is FranFest. You knew that. Your brain knows it; your tongue knows it; your guts know it all too well.
"Fran" is possibly the most popular CrossFit Named WOD in the world. It's a commonality that CrossFitters share, deeper than language or government stripe or 5k time. It's also the WOD most often criticized by armchair elites with a loud opinion, an internet connection, and an audience of similar drones. "How can a 3-minute workout even be HARD? You're not gonna get anything from THAT! You should just do CARDIO! I'll clean up my dishes in a MINUTE, mom! Jeez!......"
Fran's one of our favourites. It's quick, it's hard. It's a measuring stick. It's featured on one of Phil's funny T-shirts. And it's amazing to watch, when done well. Below is world record holder, Jason "Rhabdo" Kaplan, performing "Fran" in 1:53.
Months ago, I added Rhabdo on facebook. I told him what we were up to, and asked him to share some insight. This, from him, World Record Holder, to YOU, Catalyst athlete:
Learn to embrace the pain, everything must be done unbroken. Chalk up the hands only in the beginning prior to the start. The first 21 is the mountain, once you're done with that its all down hill. 15 is just keeping the flow while 9 is pure muscle powering you through till the end. Once you're done either walk away if you can, or collapse from relief that you are done.
Simple, just like Fran. CrossFit is a huge world, but also a small village. Thanks, Rhabdo.
Tomorrow morning: first groups start at 8am sharp! Be ready to party!
BONUS: A NEW ESSAY FROM JEREMY PAQUIN!
Dating
I first met her at my local gym. It was a cold Saturday morning in February. She wanted to hang out, and I couldn’t see any harm in that. It was a lovely setting really, with good lighting, appropriate music, few people around.
Almost immediately I sensed I was in over my head. She was a mere 45lbs on that first date, but this girl was downright demanding. I was left winded after some ten minutes. I was not impressed. Maybe I’ll call you later I said.
Winter turned to spring and I had had a change of heart. She showed up at the gym again and this time I wanted to seriously impress her. Our second date followed a gruelling week at the gym. Despite this, I felt confident that I could hold my own.
Things started off alright but she had gained some weight over the winter. I had not rested well or eaten properly before our encounter. My performance was nothing short of awful. I became upset and uncharacteristically swore. I mean, the bad swear. The one that starts with f. We lasted nine minutes something rather.
Months went by and I never thought of her much. I had become, almost, afraid.
During the summer months I asked for advice, watched videos, even took lessons. I broke down the whole process into parts, determined to make things work. This time, I promised, the result would be different. I showed up dressed in my best attire, in the right frame of mind, and well rested.
In and out in exactly five minutes and forty eight seconds. I was happy after our third date. Smiling.
Foolishly, I thought it was all uphill from this point. I could rule this girl. Or so I thought.
She called again this fall, eager. I dove right in but found myself frantically gasping for air after only two minutes, perspiring after three, dizzy at four, and staggering at the five minute mark. I had underestimated her. And she dropped me at precisely six minutes and one second. Not only was I humbled by our fourth date, I was afraid again.
Dejected, I reluctantly asked her out a fifth time. This one was a real slugfest, however, I had experience on my side, mental toughness, several months of intense training, and determination. I managed my best performance to date: 5 minutes 34 seconds.
Look for her this weekend. She is a burly gal, and she calls herself Fran.
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