The Open

  It would be fair to say if you stuck 10 people in a room at random, 3 of those 10 would know what I was referring to when I said the words, "The Open." 

If you were one of the other 7, let me tell you about this new "fitness fad" called Crossfit. Oh, you've already heard of it? Right, of course. People love to talk about it. Others get tired of hearing about it or are annoyed of the cult following it has. I cannot be impartial to either because here I am about to get on my box and rave about it. 

 My first introduction to Crossfit was when I watched my brother in law do The Open back in 2012. He was doing a workout and caught a squat clean on his knee, snapping his forearm the Tuesday before The Open began. It was horrifying. Nevertheless, he got a hard cast and the next week, he was back at it. So I watched again in agony as he killed himself doing bar over burpees one handed because of his cast. I remember thinking, "Why? Just stop. Please.. this is so dumb. I don't care enough about fitness to do that to myself. Crossfit is stupid. And so hardcore." The reality is I respected his dedication. But I didn't get it. The next year, he and my sister opened their own crossfit gym in Kansas. I was so happy for them but still couldn't understand all the crazy and weird stuff they talked about. My brother in law mentioned a book with "Supple Leopard.." in it and I was out. I was so proud of them both and the risks they took to launch their business. A year after they opened, my sister and one of my older brothers pitched in and bought me on ramp classes for my birthday at a gym here in Omaha. I was super annoyed. I wasn't going to freaking do Crossfit. I'm not an athlete and I will never look like those chicks on all of the promos about crossfit. "You've got to be kidding me" was all I was thinking. My sister kept telling me to just go and try it. The classes were already paid for. 

So I went. I went once a week for 5 weeks and learned about proper form and how to stay safe in movements and during WODS. (I also remember a distinct moment of rolling my eyes and saying, wtf is a WOD?) I survived the on ramp classes and didn't totally hate it because it wasn't long distance running. Still not enough to make me join so I said thanks and went on my way. Months down the road my now lovely roommate told me she crossfitted at a gym not too far from our neighborhood. I was in a place where I knew I needed to make some healthy changes because the the scale was on the rise again. As was my anxiety and depression. So I ignored my bank account screaming and paid my dues. We went to the early, 5 am class so I could get to work on time. It was terrible. I had never been so sore in my entire life. It hurt to sit down and pee. It hurt to reach up to the cupboard. I felt soreness in muscles I didn't even know existed. If I made it twice in one week, it was a miracle. I was so sore the day after a workout, I'd take the week to recover before going back. I time capped every workout and always felt so miserable and out of sorts. There was so much new terminology. The coaches always talked so fast and everyone seemed to know how to do it except me. Not wanting to look dumb or fall under scrutiny, I never took the time to ask questions or learn certain tricks. I mean.. it was 5am and no one wants to think that hard anyways. Meeting people was hard.. I was a social extrovert who was suffering from anxieties in other areas of life, so putting myself out there like a typical extrovert was painful. I felt so uncomfortable. Constantly. I seriously hated it. I couldn't do half of the movements required in workouts so why was I even there? So I showed up less and less and eventually stopped. I had a shame complex in giving up and owning my failure so I paid my membership out of guilt. Months later at the dog park, I ran into a couple I recognized from the 5am classes. The gal and I had done a couple workouts together as partners. I fondly remembered her cheering me on during wall balls once. We hit it off and swapped numbers, promising to grab a drink sometime. When we did, she told me of their plans to open their own gym starting that spring. Feeling a rush of admiration and nostalgia for my sister, I jumped in and said I would totally join when they opened. We became friends and I started to meet a few more of the people in the project. They were all young. No one over 27. They were so excited and spread those seeds into all who interacted with them. In the late summer of 2015, Climate Crossfit was open for operation. I had spent the summer running and doing a couple weird HIIT workouts here and there, trying to get ahead of the curve and ready myself to Crossfit again. Knowing people going into it put my anxieties at ease and I felt like I had a base knowledge to help keep me committed this time. Within the first couple months when I adjusted to being sore 80% of my life, I started to actually enjoy working out. I began to be fond of certain lifts and progressions. But most of all, I loved the people. I loved walking into a small space again and knowing most everyone in the room. During that season of life, I was dealing with some heavy baggage from my past. This began to surface and directly effect my workouts. The majority of "doing Crossfit" is mental. Those who can just shut their minds off and grind are typically your star boys and girls of this sport. I was surprised how often I would drag my baggage into the gym with me and how it effected my ability to perform well. With that came the next level of love I have for these people. It didn't go unnoticed so my coaches inquired about my life. That's not their job. They are there to teach you crossfit. That's it. However, I will bet you every cent in my bank account(it's not much, sorry) that you couldn't find a single crossfit box that is simply just a gym. People who own these gyms are special. They don't just show up and do their job. They pour their heart, time, tears, sanity and so so much more into every. Single. Day. And into every single person. 

It sounds silly but every time these coaches pushed me during workouts, believed in my abilities and pushed passed my mental game when I couldn't, it translated into my every day life. Because, friends.. life was real hard that year. When I was in my box gym, I would look at the board and see all the things I couldn't do. So I would tell myself, just keep moving. No matter what, just keep moving. I completed my first Veterans Day Murph in 61 minutes amidst thunder show and miserable conditions. That was the moment I knew I could "do" Crossfit. And love it. And hate it. And never give up on it. Or myself.
That first year was crazy. Movements and lifts just started clicking one day. I knew the lingo and how to properly scale workouts to my level. I slowly stopped time capping all of the workouts. I fought so many of my demons in that space. Ultimately, its you against you. You re the one who is going to have to move and get to the end. And so as I began to do the hard things in Crossfit, I saw that I could also do the hard things in my life. 

I did The Open for the first time last year. The crew was on me about it non stop and I was determined not to cave. Why give myself one more reason to fall short on something? But the week before it started, I sat in my car, cried and signed up. It seems silly.. why that was so emotional for me. It was as I said earlier, I was fighting for so much more in every workout than just a good cardio session. The Open was insanity. It was so fun and crazy. We did a ton as a community those 5 weeks. 16.5 was the final workout. It was a combination of thrusters and bar over burpees. I was in round 2 of like 5 and I hit a wall. Hard. My mind basically went "Nope." Oh, and there was no time cap. So there I was. My mental game in shambles, my safety crutch of time capping gone and it was just me against me. I remember my friend Patrick, who was judging me, saying, "You've got to move, Gracie. You have to do something." So I somehow did a few more burpees. Then a few more thrusters. At snail speed. I kept telling myself I didn't care. It wasn't worth my pride and that it was okay to quit. Then, as they finished, everyone came over to where I was and started cheering me on. I remember being on the ground, struggling to get out of a burpee, when my friend, LeAnn's face showed up and told me to stand up. Then jump. Then go down. And up. Jump over. She kept telling me every move to make and kept me going. Pretty soon I heard a buzz of people counting reps out for me, telling me to do "One for the Corps", one for them, one for peace. So after an excruciating 36ish minutes... I ended The 2016 Open as I started it. Crying. But this time the tears weren't of fear, but of pride. And exhaustion. I still don't know how I finished that stupid workout. I tease about how I blacked out and don't remember doing it, but I do. I remember every voice cheering me on and telling me I could do something I had mentally already decided I couldn't do. So when people tell you about Crossfit.. it's probably not because they want you to do some crazy fit of exercise. It's probably because they have had a similar moment. The moment you realize it is more. More of what, is for you to decide. But if anyone tells you they have only ever done crossfit for strictly the exercise, they re probably lying. What we as crossfitters want more than those rock hard abs and a good butt, is for our people to know they can do hard things. And not only survive them but thrive through them. 

I signed up again for The Open this year. I am recovering from some gnarly nerve damage in my sciatic nerve, so it seemed pointless at first. I can't do half the movements so why compete? Because all of a sudden, The Open isn't just for me, but for my community too. My only goal this year is to be in a place to cheer on someone and help them see the hard things they can do. Just like my people did for me last year. So if you haven't signed up.. please do. Even if you need to cry first. It really is worth it.

Cheers!