I CrossFit

I CrossFit.  Two words I’d never thought I’d say!   The reality is that my burpees are more like “stand-upees,” my mile is about 25 minutes long, my squats are just a slight knee bend, and the list goes on, friends.  I don’t like to dwell on those things.  I rejoice in everything those people who drank the Kool-Aid long before I did have helped me accomplish. 

My friend, Jayne, has always challenged me professionally.  She’s given me confidence to apply for new jobs, present to large crowds, and she’s constantly stretching my use of technology.  It turns out that last summer she also pushed me into the depths of CrossFit.

 Jayne was a runner but, when she joined a new “gym” we started noticing alarming things at the office.  A funny way of walking, callused hands, FaceBook pictures of her lifting tractor tires, uncommon acronyms, a strange dedication to her workouts, and choosing not to participate in our monthly birthday pig-outs are just a few of the signs that her gym was more like a cult.  Yes, a cult.  Cult, by definition, describes a small group of people with religious practices that others consider sinister.  If you disregard the religious part of the definition all the rest of the things she was doing seemed to fit it well. 

As sinister as it sounded, when her friend, Gil, told us about a summer class for kids I decided to sign both of my kids up.  Why?  Obesity is prevalent in my family.  I desperately needed to break the cycle.  My son, Landon, was only four years old during the class but, it didn’t take long for him show signs of cult membership.  My oldest, Isaac, was so empowered by the class that he challenged me to make some changes in my life.  Gil and Jayne had both asked when I’d start.  My response was always, “When you have a special class for special people like me, I’ll join.” Coincidentally, they were starting an on-ramp or beginners class.   

One thing led to another and I ended up in Gil’s intro class weighing 355 pounds at a place named RUK, which stands for R U Kidding!   When I started the class I was not able to jump; my feet would not leave the ground no matter how much my brain ordered them to.  I hadn’t run since “the mile” in grade school.  Getting up from the floor was an event.  I was so scared of what seemed like a frigid environment of athletes!  It’s no wonder I requested for my church to put me on the prayer list and I often prayed for Gil’s patience to endure my limited abilities. 

Gil did great, by the way.  In spite of constantly pushing me to a near physical and emotional breaking point, he helped me feel comfortable and confident.  It wasn’t long before I realized that the other people at this place (which I once thought was frigid and maybe God forsaken) also took an interest in helping me succeed.  They weren’t like that just with me but, had high expectations of each other and encouraged each other constantly.  I drank from the Kool-Aide and liked it! 

As of today, I’ve lost 39 pounds but, have gained so much!  I can jump rope, run, and hang from a bar and lift my knees while I’m there.  I secretly love being drenched in sweat, I love that my hands are starting to callus, and the feeling of accomplishment after a near-death experience (or workout, as they call them).  I’m blessed to be learning about and implementing better nutrition for my family.  I have a long way to go, but I’ve come a long way!

I pray that you can find a place like this.  Maybe you already have one.  Tell me about it.