Charming signed up for a new workout program a few weeks ago and I thought maybe I'd try it.
Sidenote: I have a tendency (as in always) to be oppositional defiant. If you tell me to do something, I immediately want to do the exact opposite, and vice versa. I don't do it on purpose. My brain does it all by itself. I must have been a positively delightful 3-year-old.
Anyway. Back to my story.
I told him I was considering signing up, too, and this conversation followed.
Charming: "I really don't know if you can do it. It's pretty tough."
Me: "What did you just say?"
Charming: "I'm just saying that this kind of thing usually isn't your cup of tea. I think you'd probably hate it."
Me: "Did you grow a human being for three quarters of a year and then expel it from your body? Twice?"
Me: "That's what I thought. Don't tell me I can't do something."
And then I did the thing I said I would never do. Never.
I went to Crossfit.
Here's the breakdown.
1. Arrive at gym located in a warehouse that looks suspiciously like a prison yard. Get panicky because you forgot to bring your shiv.
2. Sign waiver saying you won't sue if
-any of your limbs fall off
-you have a heart attack
3. Attempt to interpret a series of acronyms and work-out terminology written on a white board and feel very stupid.
4. Feel better because someone notices your confusion, tells you what they mean, and assures you that you're not stupid. Decide these people are nice and that you probably won't need your shiv after all.
5. Do a series of exercises. Feel lightheaded. Learn that was just the warm-up. Silently repeat the words "Oh. Shit." over and over. And over.
6. Stand gape-mouthed and mildly terrified as instructor explains the Workout of the Day (WOD...see what I mean about #3? Super cryptic, right? This coming from someone who originally thought LOL meant Lots of Love. For like 2 years. Shut up.)
7. Begin timed workout. Scope out nearest trash can in case the puke you feel rising in your throat decides it can no longer be contained.
8. Consider crying.
9. Tinkle - just a little - every time your feet hit the floor while jump-roping. For 200 times. Hope no one notices the puddle.
10. Decide you are not going to quit because you suddenly remember the conversation you had with Charming. Oh, HELL-TO-THE-NO.
11. Force yourself to finish the workout without any puking, crying, or loss of limbs. Lay lifeless on the ground until someone walks over to kick your leg making sure your aren't dead. People at Crossfit are caring.
12. Get talked into signing up for more classes because right now you feel like a total badass. And you like feeling like a badass.
13. Fast forward several hours - feel not so much like a badass anymore as you can't quite figure out how to get up from the couch because your legs don't seem capable of standing. Remember you paid in advance so you have to go back. Tomorrow. Revisit #8.
Lesson I will never learn (see what I mean): Never. Say. Never.
WILL YOU CLICK ON THIS FOR ME? I CAN'T MOVE MY ARMS.