I drank the KoolAid. I had to do something – anything – to help myself. Exercise has always helped my depression. My husband likes to give me shit about how I can work out and come home happy whereas he just feels sick. I don’t like meds, and anyway I need to make sure I’m taking care of myself even if I were forced to take them.
Two weeks ago I started a foundations class at a local CrossFit gym. It’s a beginner course – for two weeks you go Monday/Wednesday/Friday to learn the basics before you can jump into a regular class. I’ve been getting one-on-one training from a coach (which isn’t the usual, so I feel super special about it) to make sure my form is right so I’m not getting hurt.
Despite it only being the starter class, I’m hooked. I can tell you that I can deadlift at least 75lbs. Back squat at 70lbs (probably more, but I didn’t push it much that night). Overhead press 55lbs. I suck at hanging from a bar and jumping rope (but I’m not 10 anymore so I’m not surprised). I rocked 20″ box jumps last night despite the trainer saying all his starters get put on the 15″ box. I sweat harder than I’ve sweat in any other workout, but I leave feeling accomplished and proud of myself. I’m finding on my rest days that I’m thinking about my next gym day and how I can’t wait to get back in there and exhaust myself (I can’t say that for any other workout I’ve don’t except for running). The muscle soreness makes picking up the baby hard, but it’s a constant reminder of how hard I worked.
I had my first proper class last night. My workout of the day (WOD) was scaled 50% and it still made me want to pass out. I was dripping with sweat and having a hard time catching my breath. It was by far the hardest workout I’ve had in a LONG time. Possibly ever, seeing how I’ve never been athletic. I was completely exhausted in the best and worst kind of way.
I’m not going to get all exercise blog here. I’m never going to be the person who tries to run a blog and turn it into money, sponsorships, etc. That’s not who I am. And also, let’s face one important fact: I like to stuff food in my face. So the likelihood of my body ever looking like that of a crossfit goddess is slim. (Side note: one of my favorite blogs lately is Fat CrossFitter.) But there is probably going to be a bit more workout talk here and less… complaining (hopefully). Unless it’s complaining about how I’m sore and suck at my pull ups.
