A Year After CrossFit
Celebrating one year of body appreciation
My body started changing immediately after starting CrossFit in July 2013. When I mentioned this to friends and family, I was warned not to “bulk up” and that if I started to “look like a man” that they would hold an intervention. I’ve written a few blogs on this subject (links below). This prevalent discouragement is a huge barrier to entry for women in weightlifting. This time, I didn’t let that deter me. I was motivated to lift heavy and look like whatever I was going to look like. I didn’t like my body and I was so tired of being told to be skinny. A year after CrossFit, I still don’t look like a man, but I do look like a beefcake. I appreciate my body for the first time in my life. I don’t care who that intimidates.
Prior to joining a box, I was going to Zumba and wearing an UP band, but it wasn’t really making a difference. I was terrified of the weights because I didn’t know how to use them. I knew that I needed a community and a coach. I needed support. I went to a WOD and was hooked. I continued CrossFit for another 10 months. I spent a few months in Barbell Club doing Olympic lifting, and a few more pulling cars and flipping tires for Strongman. Now I lift at a regular gym and I’m experimenting with body building. I clean, I jerk, and I have a nice snatch. And I’m not afraid of the dumbbell rack anymore.
CrossFit, along with the coaches and community, were my gateway drug to weight lifting. I’m eternally grateful for the lessons they taught and the support they gave me.
What my body can DO is more important than how it LOOKS
I have seen all shapes, sizes, ages, and levels of experience CrossFit. Nobody in the CrossFit box thinks I need to drop a size, especially if I’m dragging 300+ lbs around on a sled. I don’t measure my success by pants sizes—I’ve actually gone up two sizes since I started. I measure my success by the lbs and kgs that I lift. Those are the only numbers that I care about. And my relationship with food has dramatically improved. Food is fuel, not a source of guilt and frustration. Bonus: I’m even learning how to cook!
There is no perfect body type
Different body types are naturally better at certain types of movements, but no one body type is the best at all the movements. I squat very heavy, but I can’t do a single pullup. There are thin women who CrossFit who can do tons of pullups, but they can’t squat as heavy as I do. Figuring out what kinds of movements I was better at naturally motivated me to keep lifting. I wasn’t a fish trying to climb a tree anymore. I found home under a loaded barbell. Others find it kipping or running. We have mad respect for each other.
I am strong & capable of moving mountains
I have flipped 465 lb tires, dragged 300+ lbs on a sled, pulled a 5k lb car, done over 50 burpees in 5 minutes, and done the 7 rounds of a Bear Complex with 50% of my clean max. I have pushed prowlers till I nearly puked and jump roped so much I couldn’t walk for two days. Yes, I am always sore. But I feel powerful. I feel capable. And I’m ready to lift some heavy shit.
I can inspire and impact other women athletes
I tangible proof that lifting heavy won’t turn you into a man. I also hope that I’m also proof that lifting makes you powerful and confident, in addition to giving you a great feminine body. There are a lot of myths spread around about women who lift weights. I can work to bust those and hopefully motivate other women to pick up a dumbbell and stop counting calories.
The greatest part of weight lifting is that I take this power and confidence with me when I leave the gym. I stand up straighter. I feel like I have a presence that I didn’t have before. I look and feel better. I no longer feel the need to be “thin.” I appreciate my body. I am strong and powerful. I’m 5'6", 200lbs, size 14. And I’m proud of every inch of it.
And I have CrossFit and many amazing coaches to thank for that.
