When I graduated basic training in 2002 I thought I liked pushups. It was the first thing we did at early morning formations and the last thing we did before scrambling into bed, exhausted, at night. I got really good at them. Diamond pushups. Wide arm pushups. Alligator pushups. No big deal. Whatever kind of soldier they made me, they sure as hell guaranteed I could stay in the front-leaning-rest.

Pushups and I then broke up. I did not like them, not even then. I simply understood them.

Tonight, at my first ‘real’, nonbeginner crossfit class, we did so many kinds of pushups. So Many. (That basic training business was brainwashing bullshit.) My arms shook. My form failed. I’ll be surprised if I can wash my hair tonight my shoulders are so tight. As much as I want to yell and complain and cry a little, it was a good class. Complaining – and having something specific to complain about – just makes me love crossfit all the more.

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