The CrossFit Blues
There have been days when I never wanted to hear the word “WOD” again. Times when I did not want to join a class, did not want to work out, did not want to read/listen/see anything CrossFit. I’ve had the CrossFit Blues.
But I’ve also fallen in love with CrossFit more times than I can count.
See, CrossFit is like any relationship: after a while, we may start to take things for granted. We begin to expect, instead of hope. We begin to demand, instead of ask. The bloom is off. We’re not sure we even like anything about that person anymore.
If it happens in love, why not in CrossFit?
You can wallow and walk away forever. Won’t solve much though. You’ll just end up trying to find what you’re looking for in running or triathlons or the bottle.
Or you can do what I do: take it back to basics. A series of dates with the bar in an empty gym. Nobody else, no clock—just movement and memory. Remind your body what CrossFit feels like at the most elemental level. More importantly, remind your soul.
And, if you’re anything like me, somewhere in the middle of that fourth day of solo workouts, when your quads are screaming in air squats or you’re fighting to get your chest off the deck in push-ups, or you’re cursing out the wall-balls, somewhere the fever breaks. And you’re back. You want to turn the damn clock on again. You want to get better and faster and stronger. You want to earn your fitness again. You remember why you loved CrossFit to begin with. And why you can’t give it up now.
And then you rejoin the Land of the Living. You walk into the gym the next day and the world looks fresh again. CrossFit looks fresh again. Everybody in that damn gym looks better than ever. Somebody yells “3-2-1-Go!” and you kind of smile. You’re back. Hello CrossFit, I missed you so much …