The Hard Sport or The There Is No Can't Edition

This latest chapter in my sports adventures is my husband's fault.  He's at least partially responsible for hockey, too, but I think I can put Cross Fit all on him.  One of his personal trainers at our gym had left to work at something called "Cross Fit".  "You should try it," he said.   "Have you called Cross Fit yet?" he would ask.  I blew him off.  I ran 3-4 miles a day most days of the week.  I played sports.  What did I need with this Cross Fit?

I am a weekend warrior.  I used to run 40 miles a week and even ran the marathon in Detroit in 1999 in a middling 4 hour 20 minute time.  Then I discovered team sports, and my mileage dwindled as I fell first in love with soccer then hockey, playing as much as possible as many days a week as I could.  The gym was for winter, when I couldn't run outside or when I went through one of my "weight lifting" phases when I'd use the weight machines a couple times a week.  But team sports were where my heart was.  I loved the thrill of the game - the winning or losing with my friends, and solo sports had lost their appeal.

"Try Cross Fit," my husband kept saying.   So I called.  And showed up at a converted industrial building, now a gym unlike anything I'd ever seen before, at 7am one Friday in early July to meet with an instructor who would take me through an "introductory session".  I thought "How hard can this be?"  Little did I know, 12 hours later I would barely be able to move.

We did some stretches.  We did some sit ups.  Some push ups.  Some rowing (that, at least, I could do).  I attempted a pull up.  It was hot, humid, miserable.  We went through some barbell skills.  I think there were kettle bell swings, maybe some wall ball throws.  I was terrible.

But I went back.  And back.  Then I sprained my ankle.  And I took two weeks off.  Then I went back. I kept going back even when my arms would shake with exhaustion and  I wanted to crawl into a ball in the shower after a work out.  I kept going back even when I was the least coordinated and oldest person in class and when I wasn't sure if I could make it through a work out.

And now I'm not terrible.  I'm not great.  I'm not even good.  But I think I've moved beyond terrible.  I can dead lift 125 pounds.  I can push press 65.  I can "double under" with a jump rope, do banded pull ups, do 10 "real" pushups in a row.  I am a decent rower.  I can jump on and off  a 20 inch box.  I can flip a big tire (my husband thinks that is the coolest thing).

I have learned so much beyond how to do a clean and jerk or a dead lift.  One of the instructors once told me "no one is going to do those burpees for you".   I actually look at many things in life that way, now.  No one is going to do the tough stuff for me, so I might as well just get it done.  And if I need to chip it out into small chunks; it is best to get the biggest chunk done first.

Cross Fit has taught me there is no "can't".  When you walk in for a class, the work out is on the board.  I have frequently thought "I can't do that."  But invariably, I do the work out.  I get through it.  It isn't always pretty, but I get through it and feel better for it.  So what if it is hard?  If it were easy I wouldn't want it so badly.  And I wouldn't feel nearly so good once I've done it.

And even though it is an individual sport where you mostly compete against yourself  by getting a better time or lifting more weight or getting more reps in, Cross Fit feels something like a team.  We encourage each other, commiserate over a tough work out, and help clean up each others' equipment after a class.

I haven't really lost any weight, but I'm smaller.  I have new muscles.  I can skate harder.  Run faster.  I feel great.

"Try Cross Fit," my husband said.  I did, and now I'm hooked.