Twas The WOD Before Christmas
Twas the WOD before Christmas, and all through the box
All the athletes were stirring, to music that rocks.
The jump ropes were swung by the newbiew with care,
In hopes that St Double Under soon would be there.
The lifters were nestled all snug in their olys,
While visions of snatches churned up “Oh My Gollys”.
And ma in her ‘wrist wraps, and I in my tights,
Had just settled in for a throw down so bright.
When out on the street there arose such a clatter,
That we sprang from the box to see what was the matter.
Away from the rower I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow,
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But Khalipa, and Fronig, and two Annies so clear.
With a little old rack, and a big pile of weights,
I knew in a moment it must be the date,
For the showdown of Fran,
Tween woman and man!
“Now Jason! now, Rich! now Sakamoto and Thorisdottor!
On 3 you will do, 21-15-9 said the proctor!
To the top of the thruster, then the top of the bar!
Now thrust away! Pull away! Dash away all!”
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky.
So up to the barbells the champions they flew,
With weight on their heels, and curved backs too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
3-2-1 GO, and the athletes began.
As I drew in my breath, and reps started to count,
The muscles and tendons caused the movements to mount.
In a blur so fast, I could barely keep up,
With the movements so pure, no-one dared utter “no rep”.
They were bathed all in sweat, from their head to his feet,
But vow they did, their challengers to beat.
Rich pulled ahead, on the thrusters with ease,
But Annie threw back, on the pullups you please.
How their eyes twinkled! their muscles so merry!
Their cheeks were like roses, their noses like cherries!
My droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
As I watched these fire-breathers perform in the snow.
The second round started, and they grritted their teeth,
Khalipa’s breath now encircling his head like a wreath.
I had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook when I did these things, like a bowlful of jelly!
But these sculpted visions, out there in the street,
Clearly the pop tarts and hagen daz never eat!
With a wink of her eye and a twist of her head,
Iceland Annie’s pink cheeks, began shining red.
She spoke not a word, but went straight to her work,
Finished the Fran, and said “Let’s clean and jerk!”
And laying her finger aside of her nose,
She gripped half a ton, and we watched as it rose!
Impossible it was, no-one lifts that much,
Then high overhead she pushed it, though gravity had no clutch
On the weight in the hands, of this master of grace,
So toss it down she did, then stared Rich in the face,
I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he walked up to the load,
Of your strength, I’ve surely been told.
He bent down to the bar, and breathed in twice,
But the overload bar, he could not make rise.
“Step aside,” Sakamoto said, with her dark eyes aflame,
And lift it she did, while the big boys felt shame.
Twas the WOD before Christmas, and all through the land,
The legend of the Annies, that night it began,
When there on the street, in santa claus hats,
Outside the box, buried deep in the Flats,
The Annies did rock, and then softly alight.
Saying “Merry Christmas to all, and to all 3-2-1-GO!”
