A Haiku for 18.2 — The Redo
In a workout destined to be attempted multiple times, CrossFit 515’s Justin Preisser decided his would be one and done
Since I’m not physically competing in the 2018 CrossFit Games Open this year, I decided (with the help of my frenemy) to celebrate the Open in a completely different manner. Yes, I will certainly miss Superman vs. Lex Luthor (we will be back next year — mark my word — and there will even be T-shirts), but this season I have the opportunity to shine the light on others. Just like “Frederick,” by Leo Lionni, I am a poet and I know it. The plan is to write a poem for each week of the Open showcasing a particular athlete and their valiant efforts. Please enjoy this poem about 18.2…
My wife had the incredible foresight to realize this week’s poem needed a change. If The Dave Castro is going to give us something new and fresh each week, then it’s my responsibility to do the same and switch things up a bit. Thus (yes, I did just say “thus”), my ode to 18.2 and 18.2a will be a series of haiku poems. What’s a haiku? I’m so glad you asked.
Unless you’re a poetry buff, you likely do not encounter haiku on a regular basis. And if I had to guess, you likely don’t remember learning about or writing your own haiku in the 2nd grade. Nevertheless, haiku is a traditional form of Japanese poetry. Haiku poems are written in 17 syllables divided into 3 lines. The first and last lines of a haiku have 5 syllables and the middle line has 7 syllables. The lines rarely rhyme. For example:
This is a haiku.
It’s got seven syllables.
Yep, that’s a haiku.
Or this as another example:
CrossFit is a sport.
First rule, talk of it always.
Three days on; one off.
Without further ado, may I present to you, the poem(s) commemorating the second (and technically third too) workout of the 2018 CrossFit Games Open.
“A Haiku for 18.2 — The Redo” by Eddie Mrowka
In Pennsylvania,
Thursday was here just like that;
Pittsburgh was the spot.Justin Preisser thought,
As he sat in Iowa;
What would Castro do?Hoped for a barbell,
Believed there would be burpees;
But had not a clue.Handsfree microphone,
Again, Dave was dressed in black;
A chalkboard was there.18.2 is,
Two movements he told us all;
This work is for time.A time cap indeed,
Twelve minutes to be exact;
Dumbbells and burpees.For each dumbbell squat,
You do bar-facing burpees;
From one rep to ten.18.2 is,
Going to burn as he smirked;
But that is not all.We would do a sprint,
But that’s just the start he said;
Because there’s one more.18.2a,
Will be a one-rep max clean;
With no added time.18.1 was,
Fun, but now it’s time to turn,
The heat way, way up.JP quickly knew,
A total burner for sure;
He would have to move.18.2a,
Is one of his best movements;
So that would be fun.Though he liked the lift,
Could he move the heavy bar;
After all that work?Five One Five owner,
Bobby Noyce knew this could be;
JP’s jam indeed.Please move fast enough,
Just do not exhaust yourself;
Put up a big clean.Pace 18.2,
Have energy for the clean;
Goal: three hundred pounds.Two to three minutes,
Hopeful for four though to clean;
But still not that much.Consider the fact,
He would have to change into;
His precious lifters.JP was ready,
Some nerves but excited too;
Three, two, one, let’s go.After three minutes,
The plan flew out the window;
Or so he assumed.Bobby really thought,
JP paced it perfectly;
Steady with no breaks.Bar-facing burpees,
Fatigue him in nasty ways;
They really do suck.All he wanted was,
Change shoes, chalk up, and belt on;
Give me time to clean.Clock was dwindling fast,
Started with two-twenty-five;
It felt quite heavy.Bobby thought he looked,
Tired but still had juice left;
Hit two-forty-five.Sixty seconds now,
He said two-seventy-five;
Bobby disagreed.Put twenty-fives on,
You must hit two-ninety-five;
The team needs your score.Waited a moment,
Put the two-and-a-halves on;
Even three hundred.It would be iffy,
Could he get underneath it;
Fatigued and that weight.Fifty-five pound jump,
JP’s shoes weren’t even tied;
No hesitation.Only ten seconds,
Community cheered him on;
And he stood it up.Two seconds to spare,
A pretty lift, so thrilling;
Go big or go home.Came through in the clutch,
Bases loaded in the ninth;
Swing for the fences.Very inspiring,
Composed and trusted Bobby;
Didn’t flinch at all.JP says he has,
Coulda, shoulda, and woulda’s;
But he is trying.Celebrate the good,
Don’t focus on negative;
Smile at your success.He felt the pressure,
Stared three hundred in the face;
Found a way to win.Real intense but good,
Pushed to go beyond himself;
So grateful they did.Remembers thinking,
Lifters untied with no time;
To think about things.Advantage was his,
The mind is so powerful;
Even when it’s stretched.18.2 was,
Not a redo for JP;
One and done for sure.
