I SO Want That Ass

I’ve met the perfect woman … uh … women

Yes, yes, yes; I want that girl’s ass. And that other girl’s thighs. And that one’s shoulders. And most definitely, if I had them all, I’d also want that guy’s shoes. In a size 4.

Oh hell, even if all I has was a firm, round behind and those electric blue shoes

I’d feel pretty damn hot. Not perfect; but like I was getting there. Unfortunately, I have neither.

(No Gaelen, I’m not trying to trick you into holding onto the man while I make off with his shoes; I’m happy to catch-and-release.)

The girls at CrossFit Platinum however have it all! The up side of training with them as they lift, pull and swing their bodies to toned, muscular perfection is this: I don’t need to imagine the body I want because I can see examples of it everywhere. In short: they inspire and I aspire.

Perfection makes me sad

The down side of being surrounded by them, especially when you’re a beginner like me, is that I sometimes feel hopelessly inadequate and so far from perfect that I’d need the Hubble to see it. Sometimes it’s hard to look at all these fit, glowing people and not feel like the ugly stepsister.

Think of it this way: remember when you just started driving; how you’d grind the gears of your VW-something while some demi-god pulled up in this purring marvel that seemed more beast than machine? Remember how even though you knew he wasn’t paying for the thing with would-you-like-fries-with-that money (like you were) and that you’d also; earn more than minimum wage too some day; you still felt a little knot of despondency in your stomach, wondering if you’d ever be that guy?

Well it’s like that for me. I look at these girls and although I understand in my head that there’s enough of their sweat and tears and even blood soaked into the gym floor to make a CSI tech cry with joy; whereas I’m still counting workout hours on both hands; my heart’s a little slow on the uptake.

It’s even worse when you live with someone whose worst workout would still be better than your best … on steroids … and speed … in fast forward … with a cyber limb.

Sometimes the gap between the dream and the reality is just too big and it seems unlikely that the “me” I am now and the “me” I want to be, will ever manage to bridge the divide.

There’s my tummy, shading my toes

So here’s the tough part of training that no one mentions: that pushing through the pain of the workout is nothing compared to pushing through the self-doubt and the gut wrenching way your failings disappoint you and your limitations frustrate you. It sucks. And it sucks more that no amount of push ups or squats is ever going to make that go away. Especially in the beginning when you’ve got nothing to measure yourself with but by how short you’ve fallen compared to everyone else.

So what’s the answer? Partly – I think – it’s about training with people who are exactly where I am because they’ll remind me how far I’ve come, not how far I’ve still got to go. And partly I think it’s about never breaking eye contract with the girl in the mirror when I work out, because that way I’ll only see my next goal, not what seems like an impossible destination that everyone else has already reached.

Maybe. But unfortunately, like burpees, that’s far easier said that done.