12 Days of Christmas

‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the FP

Not a creature was stirring, not even GT;

The plates were all stacked by the barbells with care,

In hopes that weightlifters soon would be there;

The members were nestled all snug in their beds,

While visions of vegetables danced in their heads;

And Gagnon in her knee-socks, and I in my cap,

Had just downloaded workout songs, mostly 90s rap,

When out in the lot there arose such a clatter,

I sprang from the office to see what was the matter.

Away to the bay door I flew like a flash,

Through open the lock and pulled it up fast.

When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,

But a Prowler sled stacked with plates to your ears,

With a rugged old power lifter, lively and quick,

I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.

Stronger than Richard Cameron and twice as great,

He whistled, and shouted, and called out “Light Weight!”;

From the top of the driveway! to the end of the street!

He pushed that sled around with lightning quick feet!”

So out to the Interstate throwing sparks out the back,

With the sled stacked so heavy the roadway had cracked.

As I drew my head in from the door, and was turning around,
I saw piles of new equipment spread over the ground.

And I heard him exclaim, ere he pushed out of sight,

“Merry CrossFit to All and to All a

Good Night!”

WORKOUT OF THE DAY