In
1 week my overhead squat’s gone from 30kg to 3kg. No, that’s not exactly right.
You’ll forgive me if the emotion of the week has left me a little prone to
exaggeration. The truth is that my OHS is hovering at around 300g, what with my
having swapped a metal barbell for a length of PVC pipe.
This
seemingly unfortunate situation is the result of an injury. Unfortunately not the
kettlebell-to-the-head kind that leave you with a scar to brag about and a
story people will buy you shooters to hear. No, it follows a severe injury to
my pride when I visited CrossFit Jozi and realised I wasn’t anywhere near as
competent as I imagined I might be.
And
so I’ve been temporarily banned form the barbell and relegated to the PVC pipe
because I’m embracing my suckiness on the way to discovering my awesomeness.
Too old to be new
So
here I am at the start of the CrossFit Jozi onramp classes. Not significant in
and of itself, because all the new people start out here. Except that for me “new”
means “done CrossFit for 7 months”. The 2 girls I’m starting out with haven’t
even stepped into a box before. This means they have no idea that their nail
files are going to be reassigned as callous files. It means they still harbour
the notion that throwing up during a WOD is bad. It means they don’t know that when
you watch the beautiful Chris Spealler doing pull ups on YouTube it’s not
because you have any desire to learn about pull ups.
Of
course I know these things. But that doesn’t mean I know anything; I’m starting
off exactly where they are. And before you ask, no I don’t think I’m fitter or
stronger or better than them - I came 2nd last on our baseline
fitness test - but it’s disheartening. After 7 months of training at CrossFit 3
times a week and at Virgin on my off days; 7 months of practicing pull ups on
the security gate in the passage; 7
months of watching my weights get heavier, my runs get further and pusups get
better, I’m here learning how to tell a burpee from a box jump.
I
wouldn’t say my ego is bruised. More like crushed under hundreds of kgs of
weights. You know; the weights I’m not lifting
any more.
I don’t know squat
Ok,
I’m not stupid (although my mom might mention several exs as proof to the
contrary) I know there’s a lot I don’t know. But I didn’t realise just how
much!
My
first class starts with squats. I’ve done thousands over the past months so I’ll
be – failing brilliance – competent in these. Except that coach Andre belly-button-to-bar
Gadney doesn’t think so. He thinks my knees aren’t wide enough. And my
chest isn’t sufficiently upright. And my feet are too far apart. And my butt
isn’t down far enough. I want to point out to Andre that my legs couldn’t even
stretch open this far when I was hovering in a birthing pool with the midwife
yelling “push!”. But when I try to speak, the soliloquy running in my head
comes out as: “arrghhhssghhhh.”
I
trust Andre though, so if he’s saying it I’m trying it. He’s the perfect coach
for new people. No, not because his incredible physique (the reason he can shoot
up way beyond CrossFit’s chest-to-bar requirements on the pull up bar) is an
example of what the new guys could look like
and the girls can look forward to looking at. He’s perfect because he has a warm gentleness; perfect for
handling bruised egos and tender newbies.
Butt out, elbows up
Back
at the onramp class it’s not just my legs that are letting me down; my arms seem
to be frozen in what I’m telling myself is the winter cold, but is probably fear.
It’s because I know Coach Imtiaz Desai is prowling behind me just out of view. Do
you remember those games you played as a kid, where you sat in a circle while
one person skipped around the back singing “I wrote a letter to my love and on
the way I dropped it” and if you were the one they dropped it at you had to
chase them. Do you remember how the hair at the back of your neck bristled in nervous
anticipation? I’m feeling like that. And then I feel cold iron fingers twisting
my elbows up and bam, I’m “it”. In a moment of clarity I realise that (a) his
sports science degree have given Imtiaz a distorted knowledge of anatomy because
only someone made of pipecleaners can bend this way and (b) this is why they get you to sign an indemnity form before
starting.
I’m
hurting, especially my inner thighs. And now my ego is aching worse than ever.
Hey look, I still
have all my pieces
So
here I am; feeling like I’ve been cast as an extra in an S&M film. My arms
are up and braced against the pipe, by butt’s traveling back, my knees are
going where no knees have gone before, and at the height of my discomfort Andre
says: “squat deeper”. You’re frikking kidding me! If I do my bones are going to
explode out of their joints like popcorn.
But
wait …
Who
would have thought? Instead of my body
parts parting way with my body, they’re sliding and folding like a Transformer robot.
Look, here I am hovering above the ground and I’m working that pipe; not exactly
with ease, but hopefully with a modicum of grace. Humm, maybe my coaches don’t get
kickbacks from the Linksfield Clinic.
My
body feels balanced; it feel poised; it feels beautiful.
A life like CrossFit
No
matter how brilliant you are, life will find a way to, “hand you your ass”, as
Imtiaz would say. You lose your job, you change careers, you get dumped, and
what hurts the most is that you’re left trying to work out where you went wrong,
how you’re going to pick up the pieces and dreading having to start all over
again. You’re back to square 1. This isn’t the way life’s mean to work! Even if
you put on a brave face your inner child is throwing its toys because it’s gone
from running right back to crawling. And it didn’t ask for a do over dammit.
But
as they say in the X Box classics: RESPAWN! It’s not game over; it’s your
chance to come back with renewed vigour, a fresh supply of ammunition and a
kick-ass new game plan. It’s your chance to rediscover all the things you can
do instead of dwelling on all the things you can’t. A chance to prove to prove
to yourself that, as Christopher Robin said to Pooh Bear: “You are braver than
you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think."
And
in my case, it’s a chance to fall in love with CrossFit and everything that
comes with it all over again. Who knew 300 grams of plastic could make me feel
so strong?
- Jolene Raison
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