There are Worse Places for Burpees


I was heading to Phoenix this evening and didn't have all of my burpees done for the day. Recognizing I had an hour before my flight which was enough time to do them, so I started looking around for a space. Turns out, airports are usually busy, but every once in a while you can find a space.

I found one near my gate:

So, despite knowing just how disgusting the floors are at airports, I did my remaining 62 burpees for 92 for the day. I tried to do them where no one was looking. I tried to do them when no one was looking. I didn't succeed well.

At one point, a small child noticed me. "Mommy, what is that lady doing?"

I was chuckling until I heard him say, "Mommy, make her stop!" Yeah, kid, not going to happen until I'm done with my burpees, 10 at a time. Cry all you want, but no, today is not that day.

Rhombus Minor


Okay, so, the thing about this burpee challenge is that it isn't forgiving: it is burpees every day, it is an increasing number of burpees every day.

Which pretty much means that any injury that I can't compensate for in some way to give my body a chance to heal, will get worse. And worse.

My injuries had so far rotated from spot to spot, never sticking around long enough to become problematic. First the problem was my left knee. Then my right knee. Then my upper left arm. Then my right wrist. For each of them I managed to adjust my burpees, and keep going.

Until this one.

I have managed to strain, possibly pull, my rhombus minor. I am finding pushups nearly impossible. They are incredibly painful just to the inside of my upper left scapula. Burpees 80-85 were so painful, I cried.