Tuesday, October 17, 2006

The Only Answer


For the last week, athletes have asked me what it means to be Crossfit Certified. In practice, absolutely nothing. New clients aren’t beating down the door, and the Boston Globe has yet to call for my take on cardio kickboxing.

I learned everything I thought I already knew. Mechanics are the basis of everything we do. Squatting without a proper lumbar arch is not a squat. Bottom-to-bottom Tabatas are really f*cking hard. Greg Amundson can kick your ass at anything, and Kelly Moore is way tougher than you’ll ever be.

These simple lessons impart perspective. According to Coach, general physical preparation can advance uninterrupted for ten years.

I’ve only got one under my belt.

The first has been phenomenal, and now it’s time to go back to the beginning. The most advanced power movements on earth—the clean and the snatch—are predicated on a proper squat, which I don’t possess. A decent split jerk requires tremendous shoulder flexibility, which I don’t have. Before we move on to the graduate schools of exercise, it’s time to pass kindergarten.

The Cert gave me a gift. It smashed the sh*t out of my ego.

So, what does it mean to be Crossfit Certified? It means recognition. Recognition that our broad-based curriculum always leaves room for improvement. Recognition that Crossfitters are some of the most humble, caring people on earth. Recognition that our Superstars achieve their status through hard-nosed dedication to the basics. Recognition that Greg Glassman could talk his way out of Dirty Harry’s gunsights without breaking a sweat.

Recognition that you can always be better.

There’s no certificate, no plaque, no fancy credential for attending a Crossfit Certification. The token of participation lies squarely in your drive to succeed.

Embracing the ideals of Crossfit will lead to achievement. You may know what they are, quoting Coach word-for-word, but until you’ve experienced them in their raw, concentrated form, you know nothing.

A hundred athletes cheering their brethren during a massive FGB assault embodies “constantly varied, functional movements, performed at high intensity” like no sound bite ever could.

Crossfit Certification means you’ll find me and my girl in the garage after our first sub-4:00 minute Fran, wondering how the hell it got to be 2015.

It means we’re in this thing until it goes nuclear.

Go faster!

Picture of John, Shad, and Kelly, moments after Fran, courtesy of Crossfit.com. Looking good, John.

1 Comments:

Blogger Jen said...

Awesome stuff! As I read I felt like I was there! Just awesome!

10/25/2006 01:54:00 AM  

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