Six months and 2 weeks later, I am cleared to return to CrossFit workouts. Coach walked in and said “We have to discuss programming. It is time to get ready for The Open.” Truth be told, I had stopped thinking The Open was possible. Ever. I just wanted to get my strength back and find my enthusiasm for the sport again. I thought Coach had given up too. Only a month ago he quietly said “I never say never but…” and looked at me like he kicked a dog. To hear the words “get ready for The Open” come out of his mouth as if he were saying “sure did snow a lot” – I am ecstatic! I have hope! All I need is a little hope, a little belief from my Coach, and I can do the rest.
But now I have choices. I have made it clear here that I am a lifter first, crossfitter second, and I wanted more of my strength back before I returned to CrossFit. Strength gains are slower when my attention is divided. And before I am too old, I want to deadlift over 300#, I want to squat 300# to bottom, not just to parallel. I simply am a five-year old that wants Santa to bring her everything in the toy catalog.
Now that Spencer has left Outlaw, the question Coach poses to me is: Are you going to follow Spencer or Rudy? I want him to choose. Coach is my Coach. He is taking me to Chicago. He should choose my path to get there. Instead he listens as I list the pro’s and con’s of each: I like Spencer. His programming is geared towards lifting, he seems like a decent human being, his programming makes sense to me but his new program is unproven. Rudy and Outlaw: I still think their program aggravated the hip situation, though I should have taken a day off when I needed it, I don’t enjoy the workouts and they don’t always make sense to me, I don’t particularly like Rudy even though I have no reason not to. Is liking the programmer important? Then Coach and I sit in silence. I think Coach isn’t helping at all but, truthfully, his silence is the most helpful thing he can give.
What I hear in this silence is: this is my journey, my choice, my trip to Chicago. Coach is letting me choose the path to my destination and supporting me regardless of which path I choose. I am unaccustomed to such limitless support from anyone, without any strings attached.
It is my choice and I choose Outlaw and Rudy. I don’t like the programming which is a sign that it is good for me. Outlaw has proven itself and when Coach “graduated” me to it, it was the biggest badge of honor he could give me. I chose it because it challenges me, pushes me, and because I hate it. And when I finish a workout, regardless of performance, I allow myself to say “Eff you and I’ll beat you again tomorrow too.” Coach will still be making alterations to it. I ask when I will start and Coach replies “right now”. Ummm, no.
It is Christmas week and there will be no Christmas for me. No big brother coming home to tease me and give me advice, no little boys to tackle and tickle, no sweet niece to crown with her tiara and read stories to, no sister-in-law to cook side by side. It is a miracle I got out of bed today so we surely, after this discussion, cannot be starting today, this week.
Coach hands me the workout with the alterations and I look at him dumbfounded: “I’m not starting today!” “Why? What else do you have to do this afternoon?” And I tell him the truth. I need my pajamas, I need to crawl into bed, I need to cry until I don’t have any tears left. I need to just be as sad and lonely as I feel. And he says “Or you could do your workout.” The look on his face is more one of “get your ass over to the pull-up bar”. I grab my paper and go over to the pull-up bar.
Six months and 2 weeks of zero conditioning. I have a lot of work ahead me. Good thing I’m a worker. 3 rounds ME pull-ups, 3 rounds front rack walking lunges. Then 5 rounds for time with 1 minute rest between rounds: 15 burpees to mark, 20 thrusters. Puked 3 times. Coach comes over during my last round of thrusters and I yell at him for something. When it is over he asks what I need to work on and I reply “I need to re-learn pacing and I need to puke faster. That was a lot of wasted time”. He laughs and says that’s a good idea but … breathing. Apparently whenever he looked over I wasn’t breathing.
My time sucked so bad I can’t even post it. But it was day one. It will only get better. I said to Coach I was glad I stayed since I threw up all my fluids and I won’t have any left for crying. I was exhausted and content. I had no energy left to think of what and who is missing.
With us now on different programs, we can’t really be training partners and I don’t know how the coaching Coach can possibly work out. He has said he will still need a trainer, it will work out. But it is Christmas, an extra sad Christmas and when tears flood my eyes I say “We don’t need to worry about it today. We just have to get through Christmas.” And as kindly as could be he replies “we just have to get through Christmas”.
I said on my gratitude page that Coach brought hope to my life and today, with “get ready for The Open” he brought it again. We don’t always get along (but we are so much better than we were), we have taken breaks for various reasons, he never apologizes when he is in the wrong and I constantly apologize for everything, we have never given up on each other. Coach is my Coach and I won’t ever have another. We are a team. We are starting a new journey to Chicago and have new timelines. From day 1 together he has pushed me out of my comfort zones, told me horrible truths, and made me face realities I would rather ignore. And, I must confess, I am becoming the person I always knew I could be.
I just need a little faith, a little hope, a little direction. I can do the rest. I AM a Warrior Girl after all.