Look, Mel. Two posts in two days. Please be proud.
For those who like physical comedy « Anastasia doing Crossfit » would be a sure hit. For starters, the simple image of me and my seldom trained arms trying to perform ONE pull-up is enough to make more than a few people chuckle. But there is so much more.
The odd thing is, the first two months were quite uneventful. Granted, I sucked horribly, but no more than expected and I generally made it through a workout without turning in to a clumsy cow. I guess you could have laughed at my inability to go down stairs on the way home, but it would still be a chuckle at best.
Then, I had to stop the workouts (ahem torture ahem) for a few months. For some reason, when I got back, no class would go by without some sort of comical and embarrassing moment.
Three particular moments stand out.
On my first day back, we were practicing presses. I asked my companions to suggest a weight, specifying that I do not lift much (I probably should have explained that I can barely carry a 2/4. I just figured one could tell by looking at my puny arms.) and what do you know, it was too heavy. Instead of simply letting the bar fall behind me and taking a step forward, I somehow ended up with it resting on my head, unable to move at all. The coach came running. He held the bar and I did not move. He had to yell for me to let go and get out of the way, which I did promptly. In my haste, as a stood up, I turned around took a step forward, straight into the left side of the bar. The coach just looked at me and said: “I didn’t move.” I was aware, thank you.
A few weeks later, the workout included a few series of handstand push-ups. No, I cannot do a handstand push-up. The trick to practice is to kneel on a box, hands on the floor. Around the third series, my arms decided to go on strike and voted that my face should the one taking the hit. For those of you who have never tried, falling off a wooden box is slightly awkward, but the worst part was trying to jump rope mere seconds later, when I could barely stand I was laughing so hard. In normal circumstances this would be fine, others would be giggling with you and you would pause the time to catch your breath and carry on. But this is crossfit, everybody is busy suffering self-inflicted martyrdom on their own and it would not be well looked upon for the girl who ran into her own bar to be laughing while the clock is still running.
Last, but most certainly and embarrassingly not least, is the day I decided the time had come to start practicing pull-ups. Up until then, the coach had given me as simpler (because a pull-up is oh-so complicated) exercise. That day, I decided I could give the elastics a try. With my foot in the strongest one, I did it. That, however, meant actually getting my foot in the elastic. Tied on the pull-up bar, it came down to the level of my chest. It feels like the guys who made these should have thought : “If this strength of elastic is necessary for a person, I should make them longer, for it is doubtful such a weakling will be able to stretch it very much”. I do not believe my skills can render this image, but I simply must try. There I stood, pulling on an elastic that is barely stretching with one leg in the air, ready to step on the loop the second I manage to get it to the right height (because it wasn’t going to remain there very long). Of course I had to do this more than once. And of course that is not even the worst of it. My lovely elastic was intent on doing its job to the best of its bouncy ability. I pushed my legs back to get the necessary swing and it decided to help by swinging my legs forward, until I was parallel to the floor. At which point, it decided I was helpless and slid off my foot and right up between my legs. I’m sure not I have stressed how strong this little guy was : I could barely get my feet to the ground. I half-hung there for what seemed like forever, desperately trying to free myself of this undesired harness.
Bref, I’m going to stick to running.