I didn't touch a barbell for five days. I lost seven pounds, but that lightness certainly didn't come from sweating anything except life's unexpected turns.
No workouts. No lifting. Not even an air squat. I didn't do my daily bend-and-bows. No stretching for my wonky SI joint. My stick for the Burgener warm-up sat in the corner, gathering dust.
In late 2008, CrossFit wasn't so well known. We had less than 1,000 affiliates worldwide, and the CrossFit Games had only been held twice and were still on the Castro Ranch in Aromas, CA.
So it wasn't a shocker when the Hyatt Regency in Austin, TX didn't seem keen on hosting a gathering of CrossFit affiliates that coming February. CrossFit was a little rougher back then, and we were kind of viewed as outlaw fitness. But we were used to hesitation and rejection.
"It's not about what you can get. It's about how well you can move."
My coach (Jeff) said this in class while coaching another member, but he was spot on for all of us.
On a hang power clean. On a squat. On a push-up.
On your job. On love. On your entire life.
CrossFit alone is infinitely harder than CrossFit with other people. It's a solitary suckfest. Sometimes I think it should be on a mental health checklist. ("Do you CrossFit alone? Are you on any medications?")
When I was a Catholic school kid, I spent a lot of time going to Mass. While it wasn't always my favorite place, I loved two things about Mass: the Handshake of Peace and the closing phrase "Go forth to love and serve the Lord."