A Healthy Addiction

I have a confession to make. I have the feeling that it is one that I have made before, but I feel that in the sake of honesty, it must be made again. I am an addict; a junkie, if you will. I have a compulsion, and I can't stop myself. I need a fix at least every other day, preferably four a days a week, body permitting. Without my fix, I become grouchy, distant, and generally pissy. Like the cliched woman that every man dreads to be around. But my addiction is good for me. I know what you are thinking, that's what every addict says. Am I right? Of course I am. But this time, I mean it. I would not give up my addiction if you paid me a million dollars. Maybe if you paid me a million and one dollars, but even then I would have to think about it. What is this addiction, you might ask? Why, it's Crossfit. Duh! What else?

If you have known me for at least ten minutes, you have probably heard me talk about the pain, blood, sweat and occasional tear that Crossfit has caused me. At this point, you are probably ready to either run screaming for the hills or beat your head loudly and violently against the nearest wall rather than have me talk about it again. I don't care. Start running/bashing. Be my guest. But I am going to talk about it again, at least briefly. I have been hit by a sudden urge. If, on the off chance that you have no idea what I am talking about, stop reading this immediately and go to crossfit.com. Take a look around. Don't you dare come back until you have looked at it. I'll know if you haven't.

Ok. I have given you a substantial amount of time to peruse anything related to crossfit. Now back to me! When I was a kid, I absolutely LOATHED the gym. Seriously. I thought anyone who would go to one of those hell holes to work out in was insane. Quite possibly clinically. We are humans, right? We are supposed to be outside, living in the moment and what not! Not inside staring at the mirror admiring our biceps. Well, that was my impression, back in my angsty teenage years. Let's just move right along, shall we? No use dwelling on the past.

When I was dragged to Crossfit, my mind was blown. I deadlifted a bunch of weight, and I felt awesome. If nothing else, it gave me a sense of accomplishment, and a standard with which to judge everything else. If I could push my body to such limits that I would vomit after a workout, and then go back for more later, what couldn't I do? (Minor note: I have never actually vomited after a workout, it's just a figure of speech. The closest I have ever come to that is when I PR'd on my 500 meter row, and spent the next half an hour twitching on the floor, and dry heaving outside. Bleh).

Now, even though my hands are torn up from pullups (they tore on the second to last pull up of the day, WHY DO THESE THINGS HAPPEN???) and muscles I didn't even know I had are aching, I am still bummed I can't go tomorrow. And trying to plan when I have time to go back. Insanity? Quite possibly. Or maybe it is the sanest that I have been in a long time. Crossfit has given me a clarity in my life I was not sure I would ever find. It gives me a purpose. I feel strongly and passionately about it, and that gives me a drive in the rest of my day. It has helped me reshape my goals. I want to be a better, stronger person. I don't want to succumb to the stereotypes of modern Americans. I want to pushy my boundaries, and become the best person I can. For me, it's as much about personal development as it is about personal fitness. I will always make time to go to the gym. Organic chemistry can either wait, or do itself, thank you very much. I have much more important things to attend to. When people ask me if I am religious (and if I am feeling feisty) I'll reply "Of course: I have Crossfit." Well, not really, but don't tell.

Not only does Crossfit give me a standard with which to compare the rest of my problems in life, but I can feel its positive effects all day, every day. I feel strong, I feel confident, I feel ready. For anything. And everything. Well, maybe not a spontaneous grizzly bear attack, but you catch my drift. I am pretty sure very sad and deadly things would happen to me if a grizzly bear burst into my bed room right now. I feel fit for life. If I want to go snowboarding, no problem! I will most certainly be able to walk the next day, unlike most beginning of season snowboarders. If I want to go hiking, no problem. Hell, if I have to run to class because my alarm didn't go off in the morning, that's ok too. My quality of life has improved tremendously thanks to Crossfit.

I was planning on adding some little addendum about how I feel different after Hoffman (http://hoffmaninstitute.org/) and how Crossfit has only helped this mentality. But quite frankly, at this particular moment and hour of the day, I can't think of any good and slightly funny way to describe that bond. The feelings from Hoffman are separate from the feelings of Crossfit. Both are valid, but not linkable in this blog.

I'm not sure why I decided to share this with you. It seemed important at the time. I also have the feeling that I am going to read this again tomorrow and find that it is severely lacking in anything that is actually important to say. I have probably completely screwed up my explanation of why Crossfit is important, or even why it is important that I share it. It's a hard thing to describe if you haven't done it. It is definitely a community of addicts. But when the addiction is something that only makes you fitter and healthier, well, can you blame me?