Crossfit

It’s been six months.

Six months and still there’s some argument amongst my group of friends as to whether or not we are actual, legit Crossfitters. We’re only doing the bootcamp, after all.

The day I signed up for the second bootcamp session I thought that I was a real Crossfitter. But I guess I wasn’t really convinced.

I put a Crossfit Durham sticker on my car though. Partly because I was proud of myself for committing to this, a transformative change. Partly because there’s no better way to guilt yourself into continuing a commitment than to publicly risk looking like a poser. But mostly because I am doing Crossfit and I am proud of it, so much so that I want to show off a little bit—in the most passive way possible.

But even then I didn’t want to name myself a “real Crossfitter.” Walking though the box at 5pm for my bootcamp class and watching the regular member’s WOD can be seriously intimidating. I am a stick. I mean, I weigh nothing and am only considered strong when semi-conscious , waking up from surgical anesthesia. (My body fights the drugs and I get violent-caveman strong. It’s weird. And, apparently, terrifying.)

It wasn’t until I read this post from a fellow CFD member and Crossfitter that I decided to take a position in our friendly debate. I am a Crossfitter. My boyfriend, best friend and brother, and our other friends we’ve coaxed into joining the box can take their time deciding that they are, too. I am at my box twice a week, making gains and working my ass off. My coach and the owner of the box checked up on me when I was in recovery after my emergency appendectomy in September. (I mentioned that, right?) I’m not the awkward skinny guy stretching and looking around before the WOD trying not to look like I don’t belong anymore. I am a part of this community.

Earlier this week Dave emailed CFD members to let everyone know new CFD hoodies would be available to order until Friday. I waffled on whether or not I was going to order one all week, but today I added my name to the list. After all, I am a Crossfitter.

A special thanks to Fat CrossFitter for the “pep talk” (her aforementioned blog post) and inspiration for this post.

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