…and I’m a CrossFit addict. It’s been one day since I’ve had a WOD.
So, I’m sure that some of you have figured out that I gave up Curves and am now a CrossFitter.
There are a number of reasons this transition took place, from getting to spend more time with my husband (Who EVER thought I’d be working out WITH Miss Mary?!? Not me!!!) to just needing something new and different. It was time for a change and a new challenge…boy, didn’t I get it. (Always be afraid of what you wish for….)
I will forever be grateful for what Curves did for me. I could have never gotten where I am and accomplished all that I have if it wasn’t for them.
However, it’s time to stop using machines and start building this human-powered one.
Lisbeth Darsh explains it best…
“CrossFit, done right, is like taking drugs. Your brain gets scrambled and your hands shake, but you feel flippin’ FANTASTIC. Yet your health improves and you look better. The fact that it costs less than drugs and you get to keep all your teeth is just a bonus. But don’t try to fool yourself. You’re an addict. A CrossFit addict. Maybe you don’t have track marks on your arms, but look at your hands. Touch your traps. Check out the marks on your shins, or your collarbone. The signs are there, aren’t they?
You’re addicted to CrossFit but you don’t have to cruise bad neighborhoods for your fix and the cops aren’t going to bust you. In fact, the cops are working out next to you and they’re addicts too. Both of you will go home and find yourself thinking about your next hit — reading CrossFit Journal articles, haunting the blog, watching videos again and again, hitting Facebook for some CrossFit talk, jonesing for your next hit.
And the next day, when you get to the box and you’re lacing up your sneakersand the warm-up is about to start, you’ll feel that pit in your stomach and you’ll be scared and you’ll think, “Holy crap, why do I do this? It’s going to hurt.” You’ll almost want to run away, back to your couch, back to the food and television oblivion that used to dull your pain of living, back before you had your first CrossFit hit.
But then you remember the high you’re going to feel at the end. And you swallow hard and walk onto the floor.
The coach yells “3 . . . 2 . . . 1. Go!” The needle slips in. It pinches a bit . . . but then . . . ahhhh . .”
(From “High” by Lisbeth Darsh, one helluva CrossFit athlete and writer.)
…and yeah…it IS just like that…it has taken over 70% of the conversations that Miss Mary and I have lately, we talk about today’s WOD, yesterday’s WOD, and tomorrow’s pending WOD…we discuss methods, exercises, stretches, and how much we ache…I get twitchy just before I know I’m going to the gym and once I’m there I can’t wait to breathe in the rubber mat/chalk/sweaty smell of the gym and to push myself out the door for the 400m run portion of the warm up…then it’s a bunch of anxious pacing while you wait for the Coach (aka…Nick) to start the REAL work out. I have to admit that I do love pushing weight around and the feeling of the bar bell in my hands…but I’ll tell you what, when the Met-Con finally rolls around and Nick is setting up the timing clock and you hear the high-pitched beeps of it counting down from 10 and you hear him yell “GOOOOO!!!!”
And at the end when you think you’re on the edge of dying and you collapse against the gritty black rubber mats, all you can think of is, “I’m not dead…I made it….holy shit why do I do this…” At some point you manage to put your shaking legs back underneath yourself and you try not to drop your water bottle out of your trembling hand as you take a drink, but as you walk out of the box, glancing at your ‘score’ on the whiteboard, you yell out “See you tomorrow!”
…and that’s not a threat, that’s a damn promise.