My 1st Step into a Gym is 20 years
First Step into a Gym
I’m lucky it wasn’t my last from one look at this place. The gym was literally just a garage filled with weights. Didn’t look much like a gym from the outside at all, but once I got in it was much different. All 375 pounds of me almost left right on the spot. In front of me with their hand out, looking for a shake was a clear steroid abusing meathead. This guy had to be 6″ 3′ and at least 275 pounds of solid muscle. It was like the guy who played terminator was looking me right in the eyes.
As I turned around and walked out the door this lovely lady came up to me. She was overweight too, and she told me that this place changed her life. She said that she used to be 50 pounds heavier. That put right at ease. Sure enough I felt like I almost died that workout. The workout itself had its whole own lingo. This wasn’t personal training, this was insane.
Everyone except for me had their shirt off by the end of the workout. I was sweating everywhere, and loving it. I felt like I was really working. I’ve seen workout videos before, and tried to follow along. Those workout videos never did anything for me. Nothing was more motivating than having 20+ people in a room all doing the same workout. The music was blasting, and this was my very first Crossfit workout. Needless to say by the name of this blog that I signed up that day for a month to month membership at Crossfit.
The Day After
I felt like I got hit by a truck. Actually, I felt like I got hit by a zone truck, and then Arnold came up to slap the shit out of me. I couldn’t move the next day. Ken knew that this was going to happen so he was standing by with a hot bath ready for me. My other son Blake came into the room. I didn’t even know he was home. He said…
Dad – I’m proud of You
That’s all I needed for my Crossfit life to begin. I told Blake that he should come with us next time. Next time as in about a week because by that time I might be able to move. Blake agreed, and a week later we all went to what is known as the box together. I kept calling it a gym until this giant dude named Dallas with a beard like Zues whispered into my ear “this is called the box.” I knew that if I was going to keep up with the workouts at the box that I needed to find out the terminology. I mean what the hell is a AMRAP, or a jerk, or a clean… I had a LOT of work to do!