The summer of 2010 when we first started dating couldn’t be more opposite of the life we lead now. It was lounging on the sofa binge watching episodes of True Blood and whatever else was trending. Two teachers, newly dating, with nothing else to do, except a 2 week trip to Hawaii to visit friends.
But as enjoyable as that summer of nothing was, it was never meant to last. What brought us together wasn’t a commonality with TV watching, but a yearning for the adventurous life.
Its been almost 15 years now since he first asked me if I wanted to try this thing called CrossFit.
Not 6 months after doing our first set of burpees in the front yard and pull-ups in the garage, we opened a CrossFit gym.
Gone for good were the easy days as teachers with summers off. Here were the days of balancing 2 teaching careers, small business ownership, plans to have kids, and no choice but to make it work.
A year before starting our family we called the gym our first child. (To this day it remains our neediest). I had just begun to test the functional fitness waters when I blinked and I was pregnant, nursing or taking care of 3 small children.
For the next 9 years, though we had the gym in common, our fitness journeys seemed to go in opposite directions.
He coached or worked out alongside athletes as they completed awesome feats and transformations.
I never really knew “CrossFit life” without having to hang out while others made gains while my belly grew, body recovered, or my time and attention went elsewhere. There was a bonus gym guilt that riveled parent guilt that came when choosing either time at home or a workout.
Being part of a fitness community is awesome but it can also be taxing with the wrong mentality.
I tried at times to make it look like I seamlessly worked out along with being a mom to babies. At one point even gifting myself the task of Williamston CrossFit content creator whereas I created a social media presence to show how others too could be a superhuman, fit mom. But this inevitably lead me to quit posting for several years as I felt like a fraud preaching a false persona. Because in reality I was drowning trying to do it all.
As our youngest grew out of the toddler phase I worked to actually be the person I had projected. I found creative ways to work out every day and experienced the gains I had seen in other athletes through the years. I climbed the CrossFit “ladder”, competed in the RX division in the opens, and pushed my threshold and myself in every workout.
It felt good. But it took sacrifice.
With small kids, being a regular worker-outer meant the reduction of time on other things (time with friends, other hobbies, etc.). It meant many times working out alone, or using daily life as the workout of the day. But I wanted to see where it got me (a.k.a. if I could get the muscular arms I had always dreamed of) and I did what I had to do to get there.
It felt like it took a miracle to even step foot in the gym that I literally owned; to balance work, home life, and fitness. But when I did it anyway, ironically I didn’t feel comfortable showing off the progress.
Today, as life with kids transitions again, to sports and playdates, I find myself tempted to defend to myself why I can’t perform at my best. I catch myself labeling my choosing of other tasks excuses. And I get tempted to hide my pride when I do accomplish big or small feats in fitness.
But with a new year comes a new perspective.
I’m beginning 2024 with an appreciation for every gray area I have been in over the last 10+ years – the pregnant crossfitter, mediocre crossfitter, the fit and competitive crossfitter. And as the needs of the family change, proudly hovering around regular crossfitter as I apply the CrossFit mindset both in and outside the gym.
I’m stoked to share the stories of others in our amazing fitness community, and to show how every athlete and every transformation has a story.
And I’ll keep in mind, for myself and moms like me, that in the future, when we need only worry about getting ourselves there, we will surely miss these days.
But for now, when I do make it to a workout, miraculously with both shoes in tact, I’m admitting that I am a damn rock star, and proud of it.