As of today, Memorial Day 2024, I’ve completed four CrossFit 1:1 onboarding sessions, participated in three group CrossFit classes (with modified moves) at my local “box” (AKA, CrossFit gym), and sort-of completed three WODs (workouts of the day) while traveling for work and my uncle’s funeral on Martha’s Vineyard. I also did a hot yoga class somewhere in there, and an at-home SheRecovers “Letting Go” yoga video with Taryn Strong.
Today I’m heading over to the box to join the “Legends 55+” class on Memorial Day. I don’t really know what to expect. The rest of the CrossFit world has a big-deal tradition on Memorial Day. They honor a Navy Seal who lost his life in Afghanistan with the “Murph” workout. It’s ridiculously hard, and the point is to push yourself to the edge in order to deeply connect with the idea of sacrifice.
Here’s the Murph workout:
While wearing a weighted vest: Run one mile —> Do 100 pullups —> Do 200 Pushups —> Do 300 Squats —> Run one mile
I don’t expect the Legends crew will be doing the Murph workout today. I have yet to do a single pull-up or push-up without significant modification, and I genuinely can’t imagine attempting to do 100 or 200 of them in my lifetime. With that said, I am going to guess that our coach won’t want us Legends to miss out on the Murph tradition, so I’m sure it will be a grueling – if heavily modified – workout today.
I’m not really sure how to process and reflect on this change in my life. I’ve gone from doing nearly zero exercise (at least not intentionally) to actually working out three times a week. I don’t really recognize myself in this person who seems to be actually doing this thing with some commitment and persistence and… joy? I keep wondering when the novelty is going to wear off. I look forward to getting to the box for classes in a way that I genuinely never ever not-in-a-million-years expected. Why CrossFit, why now?
To be clear, I’m not a totally changed human being.
Some signs I’m still me? Number one, I’ve been buying tons of new exercise clothing I don’t really need, which is always fun (dopamine, anyone?) and ridiculously nerve-wracking. Based on past experience, every single new piece of workout clothing increases the odds that this new exercise effort will be just another flash in the pan. This is probably my 30th round of buying exercise clothing after purging the last pile when I didn’t follow through on my plans… and then couldn’t bear to look at the leggings and sports bras in my closet.
Two, I truly didn’t want to do the WODs that my coach texted me while I was traveling. Turns out that working out by myself in a hotel room (or hotel gym, or anywhere) is not appealing to me AT ALL. Hated every minute of it and procrastinated doing the workouts (I only did three of them in nine days). I didn’t even feel good after the solo hotel-room WODs, since I didn’t feel like I pushed myself enough or sweated enough… Jesus, what a classic neurotic diet-culture-driven anxiety. That old shit will never shut up, apparently.
I know – intellectually – that exercise doesn’t need to be a punishment to support overall wellbeing, flexibility, stability and strength. But, weirdly, I do seem to like my workouts best when I feel kind of destroyed by them. Why is that so much… fun? I’m so confused by this.
Don’t get me wrong– just like everyone else, I’d heard about people getting high from running (weird), and I have heard people say a hard workout feels good to them. But (and this is going to sound terrible…) I always assumed that the people who said these things were all driven by a desire to change their body shape (or maintain it). I assumed people loved a hard workout because they felt so damn virtuous and “high” from being better than everyone else. God help me, I thought EVERYONE was lying to me and to themselves.
I never believed that people actually enjoyed pushing themselves physically.
I feel a bit stupid after typing that. Sigh.
After these initial workouts my body feels different, in a good way. Stronger, more solid. I stand up straighter, and walk with more confidence. I feel… bouncy. Mentally, I have more equanimity to deal with my barking dogs and other drivers. I am sleeping better.
I don’t have any specific physical goals other than not aching and crunching and tweaking and waddling. Since my bar was pretty low, and I feel so good already, I think just maintaining this new routine will be enough (more than enough) to keep my body moving and comfortable in the world.
Do I feel like my mind and body are unified now? I don’t know. I’m still so confused by the little glimpses of fun I’m having as a result of pushing myself physically. I think there may be more under there that I need to uncover to feel fully aligned. I’m still fighting and questioning my own instincts, and I’d like to get to a point where I really know my body as well as I know the recesses of my mind.
Love,
Fatty
Total Fatty 