8 rnds Ten seconds to spare. Finished seven at 8 minutes exactly. It doesn't take a newtonian scholar to figure out that fast would abruptly meet slow on the way to what started as a lofty goal of ten rnds. I would like to think that 8 is close to 10 but it's exponentially distal. With minimal transition it's quite the verboding feeling to finish the first pair of reps in a couple of seconds and quickly and easily move on to two and then three and get to five well before five minutes. Perhaps 10 is possible. The deception is as brilliant as the blinding and pompous light of the city that lines the vast and starry sea shore of illusion. Each increment is exponentially farther away from the previous demanding a slower and more substantial effort. Disillusioned by the deception of my own mind and fettered to the prospect of good fortune wrought by good will and intention, unable to tolerate the illumination of my body's response to the psychosomatic dissonance unfolding before my PG13 eyes, and bound to certain mental paradigms I set off on the lonely path that, unbeknownst to me, was replete with indignant dialectical disputes between commander and crew. Why can't we simply command our bodies to meet thoughtfully calculated expectations? How do we prevent the common occurrence of mutinies while sailing into uncharted territory? Rebel uprisings? Civil disobedience? Insolent insubordination? How do we deal with the agitation and annoyance of our body's left handed reign of terror in the eyes of such ostensible direction? In the epic battle between mind and body who will win? If we are capable.... then why do we quit? It is my endeavor to search for, find, and provide all of humanity with such a demanding and perplexing question.
8 rnds
ReplyDeleteTen seconds to spare. Finished seven at 8 minutes exactly. It doesn't take a newtonian scholar to figure out that fast would abruptly meet slow on the way to what started as a lofty goal of ten rnds. I would like to think that 8 is close to 10 but it's exponentially distal. With minimal transition it's quite the verboding feeling to finish the first pair of reps in a couple of seconds and quickly and easily move on to two and then three and get to five well before five minutes. Perhaps 10 is possible. The deception is as brilliant as the blinding and pompous light of the city that lines the vast and starry sea shore of illusion. Each increment is exponentially farther away from the previous demanding a slower and more substantial effort.
Disillusioned by the deception of my own mind and fettered to the prospect of good fortune wrought by good will and intention, unable to tolerate the illumination of my body's response to the psychosomatic dissonance unfolding before my PG13 eyes, and bound to certain mental paradigms I set off on the lonely path that, unbeknownst to me, was replete with indignant dialectical disputes between commander and crew. Why can't we simply command our bodies to meet thoughtfully calculated expectations? How do we prevent the common occurrence of mutinies while sailing into uncharted territory? Rebel uprisings? Civil disobedience? Insolent insubordination? How do we deal with the agitation and annoyance of our body's left handed reign of terror in the eyes of such ostensible direction? In the epic battle between mind and body who will win? If we are capable.... then why do we quit? It is my endeavor to search for, find, and provide all of humanity with such a demanding and perplexing question.