CrossFit Is for the Unathletic

It was 2023. I was 31 years old. The world eased into a post-pandemic setting, and it felt apt to go beyond home workouts. I needed something new. Through a booking app, I tried different sports and activities. While the novelty satisfied me, only one stuck in mind: CrossFit.

It started with one session. I was the newbie in a coach-led class full of seasoned classmates. They lifted barbells while I used dumbbells. I did a scaled-down version of the movements they did. It was intense and demanding. By the end, my heart was racing, my legs were burning. I could only hear my desperate breaths. CrossFit seemed to demand of me an advanced physical skillset that I lacked, yet somehow, it intrigued me. So, I booked another class.

Whenever I made my way to class, the unmistakable sound of loaded barbells hitting the floor intimidated me. It was loud and unapologetic. Each thud came with a shake increasingly felt as I neared the box (CrossFit term for gym). It seemed to warn me, “Do you belong here? Can you catch up? Are you not ashamed of the weights you carry? Are you not starting too late? How long will you last?” These thoughts persisted. It did not help that at that time, I could not even lift a 45-lb barbell. While I could pick it up from the floor or the rack, CrossFit culture requires returning equipment to its original place, and I simply couldn't do it. There were also times when I puked after the conditioning part of the workout. I was told that this was commonly caused by overexertion, dehydration, and/or low blood sugar, among other things. My progress felt slow, but I kept showing up. Maybe it was the push to do and give more, or that feeling of calm and lightness that follows intensity, or just exceeding my own expectations. 

It helped that doing CrossFit actually meant being part of a supportive, inclusive, and tightly-knit community. Coaches and classmates encouraged me—they still do. In the toughest workouts, just when I thought I couldn’t continue, their cheerful, pushy prompts helped me find my pace and squeeze out a few more reps. They made the experience fun and are part of the reason I looked forward to going to class.

In about six months, I built enough strength and confidence to both use a barbell and return it to its place. It started with a deadlift. Then, it progressed to back and front squats until I was able to clean-and-jerk (C&J) and, the most technical of all, snatch. Typical of beginners, the form was bad, and the technique was amiss, but I enjoyed it. A new world unfolded before me, and there was no turning back. I was hooked.

CrossFit’s official website defines the sport as a combination of “functional movements, strength training, and cardio in dynamic, high-intensity group sessions.” It was the weightlifting component that interested me the most. From the start, barbells have given me a sense of power. It’s in the way you approach the bar, wrap your hands around it, and feel its surface on your palm and, depending on the movement, thighs, shins, traps, or delts. You feel its full weight against your own. Hard, heavy, and unyielding, yet somehow, you manage to control and move with it. It felt like holding power in my very hands.

While technical, I enjoy ground-to-overhead movements (C&J and snatch) the most. On the surface, it may look like it relies on brute force, but it actually requires athleticism—full-body coordination, speed, and explosive strength—to properly execute it by taking advantage of the hips and legs. That is, power is transferred from the lower body to the bar as the bar makes contact with the hips. For a quick second, the hip and leg drive makes the bar “fly,” practically making it weightless, enabling one to catch and carry a weight that could not normally be done by arm strength alone. When done right, this enables one to play with progressively heavier weights. 

Learning to use hip and leg drive requires time and consistency. Bruises on my collarbone and thighs, scrapes on my shins, and permanent calluses on my palms go with the training. It was hard and frustrating at first, but I could not stop, especially when I got the hang of it. To this day, it still amazes me that I can lift weights in ways that I do. Who would’ve thought that an effeminate and unathletic boy in his youth would enjoy weightlifting in his 30s?

 
I also like it when, at the end of the lift while the bar is above your head, you drop the weight in its entirety. It is satisfying to be freed of the weight in an instant, seeing how it meets the floor, sometimes bouncing off of it. Without doubt, the sound that follows—the one that used to intimidate me—I now make.

Attempting a lift is a mental exercise as much as it is a physical one. I focus hard, mindful of several things at once—breathing, the position of my feet and shoulders, engaging my core and legs. I work around fear and doubt to focus on what could be—a successful attempt of either a heavier weight or a better form or both. Frustratingly, some attempts fail, but it’s part of the practice, and  I can always try again.

The mindwork that goes with the sport is also a grounding experience. For a few hours each week, I am not my problems, my circumstances, or my job title. I am just trying to make it through the workout one rep, one weight at a time. The barbell anchors my thoughts when they get bigger than my head, and I escape into the present.

Beyond barbells, CrossFit unlocks a wide set of skills. When I started, I could not skip a rope and got stuck with a modified version—tapping my hands against my hips as I jumped up. One day, my coach just asked me to try it. To my surprise, I found the rhythm and coordination I thought I did not have. This set the tone for the next set of skills I would eventually dare—from 20- to 24-inch box jumps, from knee/leg raises to toes-to-bar, from banded to strict pull-ups. 

Progress is not just doing advanced movements but also having better stamina and endurance. I got better at pacing myself, knowing when to scale or slow down, and when to be explosive. I managed to finish workouts within their prescribed time. For AMRAP (as many reps as possible), I delivered reps at par with the class. Puking also became less frequent but is always a humbling possibility—I just arm myself with candy.

My overall health improved. As my coach would put it, the benefit of doing CrossFit is functional fitness, or being able to do everyday movements with ease such as climbing stairs, sitting down, carrying groceries, and hauling luggage. In my context, trekking during vacations became less taxing, and more recently, sprinting to reach the boarding gate in time became less daunting.

Despite my milestones, there are movements I have yet to learn—handstand push-ups, bar muscle-ups, double-unders, etc. It is likely that I might not be able to do these because of my limited mobility and existing injuries. It also follows that I’m not the best, strongest, or fastest in class. Most of the time, I carry the lightest weight. This might seem discouraging, but CrossFit has taught me that the only benchmark I should measure myself against is myself. 

The joy I feel with a new personal record is very much valid even if it “pales” in comparison to others because progress did not happen overnight. It happened through consistent efforts in spite of personal circumstances at a pace that was realistic and attainable for me. My progress is my own, and it does not depend on others just as theirs does not depend on mine. A win is a win even without competition.

CrossFit has helped me appreciate my physicality. I thank my body for the depths and lengths it has and will continue to take me.

Three years and three boxes later, the sound of barbells crashing has become familiar and welcoming. My classmates are now constants–we share meals and go on vacations. My gym clothes already outnumber my regular ones. And I now have accessories to go with it—thumb tapes, knee sleeves, wrist wraps, weightlifting belt, elbow and ankle support. I also have my own chalk. I go to regular physical therapy to complement my training. I’m also more mindful of my diet, ensuring I’m fuelled enough before and after working out. Protein supplements have become a regular intake. I have amassed hundreds of workout videos that help me review my form and also remind me of how far I have come. And several jobs later, I make time for training, as much as I possibly can. These changes show the space that CrossFit has taken in my life, in as much as I have found my place in it.

Every now and then, friends ask me if they can do CrossFit or if it is beginner-friendly, considering that some of them are would-be newbies to it or have no fitness background at all. I reply by saying that not everyone likes it because of personal preferences, but CrossFit is for everyone. And who knows? They might like it and surprise themselves. I did.

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