After a year of gentle nudging from my neighbor, a desire to get fit before I turned 40, and a healthy dose of self-motivation, I finally gathered the courage to reach out to the owner of our local CrossFit affiliate. The concept of CrossFit intrigued me: it promised a straightforward, personalized, and efficient workout.
Then, on a brisk Thursday in March, I found myself in a chilly, yellow concrete warehouse, devoid of heat and tucked away behind an auto glass manufacturer. The scent of the adjacent sanitation facility filled the air as I struggled to hold a push-up position surrounded by weights, chalky poles, and damp rubber mats.
A coach, who appeared both insightful and firm, approached me with AbMats to bridge the gap between my chest and the floor. “She doesn’t need AbMats!” the owner, a robust figure with an aura of authority, proclaimed.
“Maybe he sees strength in me that I don’t,” I thought, feeling a flicker of hope. One push-up. Not too shabby. Two—okay, getting harder. Three? Not a chance. “Can I do them on my knees?” I timidly asked. Before my coach could respond, the owner’s voice boomed, “This isn’t some cushy gym class! No, you cannot do push-ups on your knees!”
Who did this guy think he was? But sensing he was the expert, I chose to stay silent and push through.
After my On-Ramp session, the firm but caring coach reassured me, “You are stronger than you realize. The only barrier here is you.” The owner smiled, high-fived me, and said, “Great job on your first day.” Fellow members rallied around me with encouragement, and as I shuffled out, a strong, radiant woman said, “Just keep showing up, no matter what.” I took her advice to heart, fully aware that discomfort was part of the journey, though I had no idea how much it would challenge me.
Reflecting on my teenage years, I remember being the awkward girl who struggled with gym activities, desperately seeking acceptance yet shying away from forming close friendships. CrossFit emerged as a platform to confront those lingering insecurities, pushing me to challenge myself.
In this environment, egos are checked at the door. The only way to flourish and develop strength is to embrace risks, be vulnerable, and trust your coaches and fellow athletes. For someone like me, stepping into that vulnerability was intimidating, but I persevered and began to see progress.
The magic of success is palpable. Whether it’s running a 400-meter sprint without collapsing, hoisting weights overhead, or finally mastering a pull-up, these victories evoke the same joy as learning to ride a bike or whistle as a kid. The thrill is pure and exhilarating, especially when you never thought you could achieve such feats.
As I pushed my limits, I realized I wasn’t as restricted as I had believed. I began to draw on my inner strength, both in the gym and in life, eventually conquering that rope climb that once felt impossible.
However, the journey wasn’t always smooth. There were days of struggle, guidance was needed, and skill setbacks occurred. But my CrossFit community—coaches and teammates alike—were always there for support. For that hour, we worked as a cohesive unit, fostering camaraderie and having fun. This environment instilled confidence and validation in me.
Amid the sweat and challenges, I found a true friend in Mia. We began CrossFit together and quickly became workout partners, bonding over our shared experiences. One day, she invited me to join her group of friends for a mud run, a gesture that meant the world to me as someone who often felt like an outsider among women.
Now, as we tackle events as a team, I understand the power of discomfort—it opens doors and fosters growth. CrossFit was my catalyst for change.
So, I encourage you to embrace whatever discomfort you encounter. Whether you’re considering starting a workout regimen or exploring options like an at-home insemination kit, don’t shy away.
Chalk up those hands, turn up the Katy Perry, and dive in. 3, 2, 1… Let’s go!