Apparently this isn’t the proper way to count when Crossfit is kicking your ass. Ethics and all that.
So Sunday was my first day of Crossfit. I am taking a mechanics course at a local box (as I’ve been told is the approved nomenclature) and I’m pretty sure I did 75 squats of different variations. Needless to say, I’ve not been able to sit or walk down stairs with any ease since then.
But man, oh man, was that a fun workout. I’ve never been a big fan of working out (sloth being my favourite of the deadly sins), but something about Crossfit appeals to me. Maybe it’s the way my coworkers talk about it (it’s damn near cult-like and I’ve always wanted to belong). Maybe it’s the way I admire women who are strong, rather than simply thin (I’ll never be thin, I could be strong). Maybe is’t the variation in the routines (I’m a little exercise ADD). But whatever it is, sore quads notwithstanding, that was the most fun I’ve had at a gym in, well, forever.
I’ve signed up again for Thursday night and, to my surprise as much as yours, can’t wait to get up for my first real 5:15 am Crossfit class. Burpees and all (please god, no burpees. I hate burpees).