And
I’m happy to say that this past Saturday I added Storm and Ray Robertson to my
benchmark list.
Would you like to see my pain face?
It
took me 2 hours to get to CrossFit 10 Star, Ray’s box. I arrived; wearing what
probably looked like my pre-WOD fear face, but which was actually my
need-to-pee face. Not the look I was hoping for walking into a box full of new
faces for the 1st time.
But hey, that’s what happens when you drink your litre of workout water while you’re lost on the highway. Suddenly you find all kinds of new and hidden meanings in unwritten CrossFit rules, like: “get comfortable with being uncomfortable”.
Yes I’m late! Damn,
I’m not!
I
admit; as I pulled into the parking lot to see a row cones marking out shuttle
runs; part of me was a little glad I was late. I’d been so preoccupied with my
bladder I’d forgotten to remember how much I don’t enjoy CrossFit WODS. I’d
also forgotten that when Ray decided to celebrate his birthday with a WOD he
figured he could get more love into 48 minutest than, say, a respectable 6. 12 x 3 min AMRAPS with a minute between
each set to glug some water and contemplate how much CrossFit sucks sometimes.
But
as I sprinted to the bathroom, realising that I was not in fact late (“expect
the unexpected”) I did remember. And
I wanted to get it over and done with as quickly as possible. Which is why, when
Storm split us into heats, I volunteered to go first. Because I’m brave that
way; like the guys on the front-line in a military assault.
Just me and GI Jane
The
other heat 1 volunteer, who for the duration of this blog shall be known as
Kick-Ass, was an enthusiastic looking girl in a lot of pink. I like pink. I
thought this was a good sign and maybe we were more or less on the same level.
Turns out not so much. Turns out girls who wear light colours to CrossFit are
the ones who know they won’t get blood all over themselves from falling off
boxes or dropping kettlebells. So what actually transpired is that while I
worked on turning every 3 min AMRAP into 3 X 30 second AMRAPS with a liberal
sprinkling of rest time thrown in, Kick-Ass just kicked ass.
Fries with your Fran?
Then
came the best part of the WOD: it ended. And the high 5s and hugging began. And
soon, thank the Paleo gods, the box party became a Spur party and I was RXing a
cream cappuccino. Sometime in the afternoon it all finally ended with visit to
a sugar art shop. I stood there between the sparkle of edible “emeralds” and
rainbows of sugar sparkles and felt a warm tingling in my fingers and heart.
I
know this warm, glowing feeling by now: it’s what the magic of CrossFit feels
like.
Love you more than
cupcakes
I
always feel vaguely guilty admitting it, but I don’t enjoy CrossFit WODS very
much. (Unlike Olympic Lifting where I’m happy to train for 2 hours and keep
going until the coach throws me out.) Which is probably why I don’t do them
very often. The WODS are just my entry ticket to the box; on account of the
fact that simply loitering in the box will at some point be considered
stalking.
But
I love CrossFit! I love the people. I love the community. I love that I can
walk into a box as a stranger and leave as family. That I went to Ray and
Storm’s box and came home feeling like it was my box.
I
probably have as much chance of RXing Fran as I do of doing her in Jimmy Choo
stilettos, but that’s ok, I’m not here for Fran. Or Cindy. Or Jackie. I’m here
for Lynda and Tanya and Mike and all the other people who give CrossFit its
magic. And when it comes to squeezing all the love and wonder and miracles I
can from this amazing community, I’m PBing every day.
Thanks
for Saturday Ray and Storm. For the sweat and the hugs and the eggs and the
sugar art flowers.
No comments:
Post a Comment