Saturday, March 09, 2013

It's Awful, and then it's Over


Over Christmas, Lyndsie gifted me with 10 Crossfit classes at the place we normally do zumba.

"We can do them together!" we both exclaimed, and I pictured us walking in ourselves, and sauntering out these transformed, cut up, fitter than ever ladies.

The actual first day there was no sauntering whatsoever. We walked in together and the lady at the front desk was super nice, assuring us that Coach was nice and he took the time to teach you. That was comforting, but did not erase the butterflies in my stomach.

The class was unassumingly easy at first. Arm circles, stretching, touching my toes, "this will be easy I thought to myself."

And then, hmm, how do I explain this.

GRAPHIC explanation warning, shield your eyes if your are squeamish:

One of my favorite bloggers described that when she was in labor, the Awful happened. And the Awful was when they went to check her cervix for dilation, it was very painful.

Well, the Awful happened at Crossfit.

And no I don't mean cervix checking.

OK, GRAPHIC EXPLANATION OVER.

The Awful at Crossfit is lovingly referred to as Bear Crawl. Bear Crawl is where you get on all fours and then walk on your hands and feet with your butt in the air, like a bear. Except it's exceptionally hard for humans to do. Or at least this human. It kind of reminds me of wheelbarrow races, except your feet are on the ground, and I was never any good at those.

And it only got worse from there.

There were laps around the building (like ten or more, definitely at least a mile long), and pull ups (PFFT fat chance I was doing those, I basically just had to hang from the bar then jump up. That's it, that's all I got). And wall ball shots.

Oh, you don't know wall ball shots?


Wall Ball shots are where you take a 7 pound weight, and squat alllllllll the way to the ground with it, then on your way up throw the ball as high as you can against the wall in front of you. I really struggle with this one, because I cannot do a full squat. As I told Lyndsie, it's really difficult to move this much girth that low to the ground.

How was my first class of Crossfit you may wonder? Well, I have never been compelled to vomit and cry at the same time until that day. I will tell you that much. That first class, I think a tear or two did actually escape but I was sweating so hard trying to do the Wall Ball shots that the tear blended right into the my face.

But Lyndsie and I have been back two more times. And that is a major triumph.

"Do you enjoy crossfit?" someone asked me the other day.

"No," I replied honestly. "I hate it with the passion of a thousand suns. Every time I go I pray I will oversleep from my nap (these classes take place at 9pm) or the coach will be sick or a major catastrophe will wipe out all the roads in Renton. I hate it."

That is not to knock Lyndsie's gift. I just never pictured myself this out of shape or workouts this hard.

But you know why I keep going back?

Because, nothing NOTHING nothing, compares to how I felt after that very first class, and I was laying on my bed drenched in sweat, and even though I could literally not walk down stairs without pain, I could not help but think

"I did it. We did it. We survived and I did not die and I did not throw up."

And that's why I wrote this post. Because it's awful and then it's over.

And I don't just mean crossfit. I mean you might be in the trenches right now. The hellacious lows of an awful relationship. The drudgery and defeat of a job you cannot stand. The longest day with your kids (lord knows that happens, those are half the days I spend knowing Andrew and he is not even my child.)

But as much as I hated that class, and as much as I wanted to just die doing it (I know I am dramatic but at one point Lyndsie and I turned to each other and agreed we would rather be doing childbirth than doing crossfit. And I am pretty sure childbirth is the same pain level as breaking 20 bones), it was hard, but then literally not 60 minutes later it was OVER.

So I know I took the longest, round about way to say this, and it's not the most positive story I have ever told, but to all my chicas and relatives and co workers and friends who are struggling:

It's Awful, then it's Over.

And I love you.