I hate CrossFit. Plain and directly. I truly hate it, from the bottom of my heart. From the moment we start the WOD till the moment we hear the familiar sound that symbolizes the end of the workout, my only thoughts are whether I should cry, die or run away. Yet I keep on going… Is it just me?
About a year ago this time I was walking in a very small, unknown, not at all notorious box somewhere in Lombardy. It was my first time ever. I was excited, though a bit scared when the instructor said even professional athletes feel like CrossFit is tough, expect to do a lot of fatigue. But that first time, it came quite easy. Actually, easy doesn’t really reflect the sense: I was good, very good for a first timer no-one would have expected anything from. For the first time in my life, I was good at some sport. Since the very first moment. They didn’t even make me do the ONRAMP classes because they told me I knew most of the movements and it wasn’t necessary to revise them since my technique was actually very good. That’s how I started. I told the coach I would go back there when I could and so I did.
I used to see on the internet the crossfitters, those insane, amazing people who pushed themselves to the breaking point every single time and seemed to quite enjoy it and I envied them a bit. In the good sense, I admired them. I wanted to be so in love with a sport that is so brutal to you. But I never ever thought I would eventually become one of them. That was a universe away. I was just a woman looking for a way to sweat out tension and shake my nerves. I was no crossfitter, by no means.
When I moved to Lisbon, I knew I would end up becoming lazy if I didn’t do something. There was a gym on the ground floor of the building I was living in and I was a regular down there, but I was not pushing myself. I was staying in my comfort zone. So I signed up for a crossfit class in a box quite close to my house in Lisbon. It was so intense. I remembered what it was like to push yourself to the very breaking point. I wanted that more often. I wanted to finish on the floor, breathless, after every workout. That’s how I continued.
After moving to Vancouver, I had to sacrifice my regular visits to the box, due to the workload we were required to do for the courses there. I tried to be active with not much success. So when I got back to Italy, I really wanted to go back to the good old habits of hitting the box almost every day, practice yoga as much as I could, bike around, and maybe even a bit of running (but just a bit!). But my body wasn’t ready… That box I went to the very first time welcomed me with open arms, but my body wasn’t responding, and I needed 3 days to rest after the sessions. But I kept going, little by little, praising myself when I could go two days straight.
Then I moved again, to another city in Italy. And that was a new beginning. My beloved gym with my favorite trainer was now out of hand since I was living on the other side of the city. I was a bit scared. I needed to find a new gym. No, wait, I needed to find a new box. That’s how I started to love and hate crossfit.
The new box is nice, a bit more competitive than the ones abroad, but it’s Italy after all. The new coach is very competent, amazing technique and such a motivator! He told me I’m quite good, despite I haven’t perfomed my best (except on Tuesday) yet. I hate his WODs, I always question whether I will finish them on time. So far, I’m scared to say it, but I always managed to. I’ve also almost thrown up every single time. But I also got back to do a 85kg squat and I want to do a 100kg by Christmas. And I also hate burpees, a bit more every time I do them. And box burpees. And synchro burpees. And everything similar to burpees.
And I hate crossfit. But I love it when I’m done.
Have A Safe Journey!