Grace At Gamma Twelve Years Ago Today

It showed up in my Facebook Memories this evening when I looked after watching the Phillies lose. I have thought off and on about the early days when I started CrossFit, but this was one of those days that stood out. It was my first “competition,” although I did the WOD heavily scaled and with shitty form. I was so new. Someone had uploaded a video, and I actually look at it every so often.

Going by rusty memory, I think I used 95 pounds that day. I don’t remember for sure, and it’s impossible to tell from the video. I was strong enough to go heavier, but that was not my goal. Nowadays, even after not doing cleans or jerks with the bar in ages, I can do that weight cold with no warming up. They look great, too. Sure, I have the very occasional bad rep where my mind gets crossed up, but that will happen. Right from the start with CrossFit, I had it in my mind that I wanted to learn to move as close to perfectly as I could, pushing weight with awful form as you see so often in videos.

That WOD was so difficult for me that day. My cardio was not good at all, on top of the poor form. I wanted to quit it in the worst way and just walk out the door. I did not quit. I finished out the workout and got really emotional after that. It was for a few reasons. It was a little shy of a year after my dad died. I was still mourning that.

One thing that kept me going was my girlfriend. She had come so far in her fitness journey. She had started boot camp long before me. At that time, we could not both go, so I chose not to so she could do it. I did my thing, which was mostly not a lot. That was also a little over a year since I had my thyroid removed.

That brings me to my other big motivation. One of my relatives, who also has the multiple endocrine neoplasia type 2a gene, had written about her journey. She was diagnosed several years before me, and her cancer had spread. She lives with that, but she had written about running. Every so often, when I don’t feel like working out, that drives me. That day, I had in my head about her running fucking marathons with cancer. Knowing what I know now makes everything make a lot more sense.

I recognize that I have come a long way since those early days, and I am grateful that I kept my focus over all these years and kept moving. My goals have changed a bit. I no longer even care if I can ever become competitive. I do care that it helps my health, though, and even after all these years, I am still finding ways to improve.