Waiting to Complain

Lisbeth CrossFit, Essays

Scene: A couch in a living room. Lenny sits in the dark, a laptop screen glowing in front of him. His fingers are poised to type.

He waits. And waits. After a minute, he rests his hands in his lap.

Enter Vladimir.

Lenny: “Nothing to be done.”

Vladimir (advancing with short, stiff strides, legs wide apart): “I’m beginning to come round to that opinion. All my life I’ve tried to put it from me, saying Vladimir, be reasonable, you haven’t yet tried everything. And I resumed the struggle. (He broods, musing on the struggle. Turning to Lenny.) So there you are again.”

Lenny: “Am I?”

Vladimir: “I’m glad to see you have an interest. A hobby, if you will. A man needs a hobby.”

Lenny: “You mean CrossFit?”

Vladimir: “No, I don’t think CrossFit is your hobby. You do it, yes — but it’s not a true hobby for you.”

Lenny: “Not my hobby? How can you say that? I do a WOD every day. Sometimes twice! And I try to scrape together spare change by offering my opinion on crucial CrossFit matters!” He rises from the chair and walks over to the refrigerator, pulling out a coconut water.

Vladimir shrugs. “Don’t believe me. But I’d hazard a guess that there’s something that thrills you more than CrossFit. Something that makes your heart beat quicker than Fran, and saps your breath and strength like Diane.”

Lenny gives a sidelong glance as he downs his coconut water. “You mean sex?”

Vladimir throws back his head and roars. “No, my friend! No! What you love to do more than anything in this world!”

Lenny frowns. “If it’s not sex or CrossFit, what would that be?”

Vladimir: “Complain. Dear man, you love to complain. It’s like air, or water to you. Without it? You might die. You are sitting here, wasting your life, just waiting to complain.”

“Vastly untrue!” Lenny slams the coconut water into the garbage can. “I have many, many things I love to do in this life! I am just being responsible. Someone must tell CrossFit when they are wrong!”

“And when are they wrong?”


In the distance, a tolling can be heard from a clock tower. Lenny and Vladimir stop and listen. After the fifth toll, there is silence.

Lenny dashes to the couch. He grabs his laptop.

“The Open announcement! Let me see what is wrong with the workout! I must warn the others!”



*Apologies to Samuel Beckett for adaptation from “Waiting for Godot.” And, yes, Estragon just had to become “Lenny.”

Lisbeth CrossFit, Essays

« »