I am not a fit man in any way, shape or form. It’s actually quite the opposite because more often than not, I am a perfect example of a sloth. On two separate occasions I have thrown a book at a light switch because I was too lazy to turn the damn thing off. I have also spent more than one night watching several torturous hours of Fran Drescher’s "The Nanny," all because getting up and finding the remote was a little too much work for me.
But despite my many misgivings as an athlete (or even a passable human being) I have this strange obsession with fad exercises. There is just something about people becoming obsessed with an exercise regimen that will probably be near nonexistent in 10 years that makes me chuckle. This is an obsession that has overtaken my life and driven me to experience the most ridiculous of things. For example, I have spent two weeks devoutly watching and re-enacting the Richard Simmons weight loss tapes. Beyond that, I have dragged a friend to three Jazzercise classes and have spent an hour intensely playing with a Shake-Weight (perhaps not my classiest moment in a Goodwill).
It is this obsession that forced me into the most unlikely of circumstances, I talked myself into taking a CrossFit class. That’s right, the controversial high intensity workout session that transformed Chris Pratt from cuddly Andy Dwyer to hunky Star Lord. The workout that has such a high injury rate, that its organizers were handed several lawsuits.
Now, I have to admit that I only did CrossFit for a day, and that day, they took it easy on me because it was my first time or because they could see in my eyes that I was weak. But either way, it was clear to see that my workout was somewhat watered down. After some light stretches I started my warm-up with a couple of minutes on a rowing machine, which was actually pretty cool (but only because it made me feel like Frank Underwood for a short amount of time).
Then it was onto some lunges and squats. For a normal person, these probably would’ve been no problem. But being a person with a slightly overweight torso stacked on top of chicken wing legs, these proved to be hell for me and I already started to feel a slight burn. Then it was onto running four 400s. It was about this time that the swearing started. In the past, I have been known to throw a couple choice swears into conversation, but CrossFit elevated my cursing to a whole new level. We’re talking Bob Saget/George Carlin levels of profanity. After that, I finished the day with medicine ball exercises, and just like that, I had done it. I had survived CrossFit.
When I first came up with this idea I thought it would result in a nice, funny story for me to share with friends and family. However, something happened in between the running and me realizing I’d sell my soul in return for a break. It was during this time that I reached an epiphany. I realized that I was perfectly content with my somewhat out-of-shape self and that six-pack abs were not worth me hating myself this much.
It is this body positive epiphany that leads me to recommend that everyone should try CrossFit at least once. Now you may not reach the same conclusion I did, but you just might learn a little more about yourself or maybe even find your favorite exercise plan. Even if neither of these things happen for you, you’ll still have one hell of a story to tell your friends.
Reach the columnist at Alec.Grafil@asu.edu or follow @AlecGrafil on Twitter.
Editor’s note: The opinions presented in this column are the author’s and do not imply any endorsement from The State Press or its editors.
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