By Jon Gilson
Something is stopping you from CrossFitting. Perhaps you believe you're not fit enough to begin. Perhaps you believe it's too hard.
Fair enough; casual observation would lead to the erroneous conclusion that everyone in the gym began life as a superhero, chiseled out beef and granite.
They didn't. They were just like you, carrying ten pounds of fat where there should be ten pounds of muscle. They were unsure of high intensity exercise, intimidated by movements demanding coordination and strength, scared of looking stupid.
Unfortunately, you don't get to see the history, the place where every one of those people started. You should. You should get a time machine, you should see where they began.
It would give you courage.
My first day of CrossFit, we jumped rope. More accurately, other people jumped rope. I stumbled around the room, arms and legs in a tragic, asynchronous excuse for athletic movement.
I expected laughter. Instead, I got help. A girl stopped, mid-workout, unconcerned with the time on the clock, and showed me what to do. Patiently. Like she gave a sh*t about me, about making me a part of the group, about quelling my anxiety. She helped me, and I left with a new skill, a little less awkward.
I know your experience will be the same. Someone will help you, unbidden. You will be aided, taught, encouraged, and loved by the people in your gym. You'll be hugged and motivated and coached. You won't even have to ask.
Then, you'll look around one day at what you've become, and you'll realize that no one started that way, but everyone ends up that way. You'll realize that no one is a superhero. You're surrounded by normal people doing extraordinary things, and you're one of them.
You'll know that you got there because you took the first step. You started. You ignored your fears, just like the people in the gym will ignore your shortcomings. You started, because you realized that nothing is stopping you from CrossFitting.
Nothing.
Fair enough; casual observation would lead to the erroneous conclusion that everyone in the gym began life as a superhero, chiseled out beef and granite.
They didn't. They were just like you, carrying ten pounds of fat where there should be ten pounds of muscle. They were unsure of high intensity exercise, intimidated by movements demanding coordination and strength, scared of looking stupid.
Unfortunately, you don't get to see the history, the place where every one of those people started. You should. You should get a time machine, you should see where they began.
It would give you courage.
My first day of CrossFit, we jumped rope. More accurately, other people jumped rope. I stumbled around the room, arms and legs in a tragic, asynchronous excuse for athletic movement.
I expected laughter. Instead, I got help. A girl stopped, mid-workout, unconcerned with the time on the clock, and showed me what to do. Patiently. Like she gave a sh*t about me, about making me a part of the group, about quelling my anxiety. She helped me, and I left with a new skill, a little less awkward.
I know your experience will be the same. Someone will help you, unbidden. You will be aided, taught, encouraged, and loved by the people in your gym. You'll be hugged and motivated and coached. You won't even have to ask.
Then, you'll look around one day at what you've become, and you'll realize that no one started that way, but everyone ends up that way. You'll realize that no one is a superhero. You're surrounded by normal people doing extraordinary things, and you're one of them.
You'll know that you got there because you took the first step. You started. You ignored your fears, just like the people in the gym will ignore your shortcomings. You started, because you realized that nothing is stopping you from CrossFitting.
Nothing.
