Yesterday I attempted dead lifting 170lbs. I didn't make the lift, but the force of which I was pulling actually ripped an entire callous off of the palm of my hand. Every time I have inadvertently made it sting today, I smiled a bit. I'm slightly proud of my war wound...
I'm in love with pull ups right now. Absolutely in love. In one week I have escalated from needing a push to help me reach the bar, to fully extending within the confines of the pull up band....and not the tightest one that is available. Progress has finally started to show, and it's the sweetest reward that I could have ever given myself. Yesterday before that callous ripping dead lift attempt, I hit a near perfect stride with the pull ups. My eyes were closed, the sun was on my face and I felt so alive.
In CrossFit there is no blanking out until the workout is over. There is no mindless running, or blank stares on elliptical machines. We are not hamsters in a wheel. There are no TV's to take us away, or mirrors to keeps us distracted and illusioned. We have to remain actively present and inside our bodies, focused only on getting two more reps, because we always have two more reps in us. It hurts and we may think about failing, the brain chatters on in endless worry and determination...and then...it's over and we are still alive. Delightfully. The challenge is wholesomely addictive and every workout feels like Christmas. That's right, Christmas. I wonder what I will be able to do tomorrow.....
