A Party or a Funeral: Your Choice
In the pink, we see Sue basically jumping with the bar. Triple extension of her ankles, knees, and hips. She’s allowed the momentum she generated through her feet to now propel the bar upward so that the bar is elevated to as high of a point as possible with the force of her entire body. Now, her job is to pull herself under the bar (the “third pull”) and receive it in a squat position.
Meanwhile, Big D. is in fight mode. He’s done with jumping and receiving but now must fight his way back up with the weight. And fighting is what he’s doing. He’s fighting to keep his knees out. Sure, they’ve caved in a little bit, but he’s trying like hell to keep them out. You can see that on his face. Sure, his elbows need to come up higher, but he’s fighting to do that too. You can see that on his face.
Some folks might look at a photo like this and say it shows some poor form. I say bull****. It shows a man fighting. It shows someone who stepped into the ring today and fought. It shows somebody practicing and learning and living.
We see what we want to see in photos, and in this world. If the world is a dark and ugly place in our minds, then we see that reflected in photos. If we choose to believe in the good around us and we find inspiration in the everyday nobility of effort, in the commonplace heroism of a CrossFit gym, then life becomes a celebration of the indomitability of the human spirit. It becomes a place to try and learn and try again. And have fun doing so.
Every day, in so many ways, you’re choosing whether you’re going to a party or a funeral. I’m going to a party. It’s not perfect and we drop things and spill stuff and sometimes use words not fit for polite company, but it’s a lot better than sitting at home, bitching about what this life lacks, drugging yourself with food, numbing your mind with crap, and waiting to die. If you want to join us, open the doors to 27 Main Street and walk on in. We’re alive. And this party has only started.