A CROSSFIT POEM
HERE`S A FUNNY, BUT “SO TRUE” POEM THAT BAKE-DOGG CAME ACROSS FROM ONE OF OUR FELLOW BOXES. ENJOY!
My fear begins from afar.
I dread the WOD while in my car
Upon the turn into Reeds Lane
I gleefully anticipate the forthcoming pain
As I arrive, I always hope
That I don’t have to climb, up on the rope
With gear in tow
I hope to park, in the front row
But some of the stalls get me perturbed
Cause I reverse off of the curb
Don’t want to be late, I better hurry
Cause Courtney said they might make us do burpees
I hustle in, just in time
Determined to, make this WOD mine
I better check in, it is the law
So I must stop, at the shark’s jaw.
As I pass through, I talk lulu with Michelle Chun.
Discussing the retail damage I’ve recently done.
I give a “Wassup” to the lads manning the front.
Often returned with a “Hey”, fist pound, or a grunt.
I throw my bag loudly on to the ground.
Well it should, it weighs 30 pounds
Full of grips, jump ropes, and Oly shoes.
Plus everything else, a CrossFitter could possibly use.
My first stop is at the board
As I quietly pray to the sweet Lord.
There it is, my daily quest
As long as I do my personal best?
Actually, not true, I hate defeat.
I also check, the times to beat.
I look around, who here is my competition.
Topping them will be my personal mission.
Ok, the coach has started to call
To go over announcements, the WOD, the warm-up, and all.
Whether it be Court, Dirty, or Maria “No Rep” Roselle
Guaranteed to put us through Physical Hell.
Chatter of Paleo, sore muscles, and weekend plans comes to an end
After the WOD we can go back to being friends.
A warm-up commences before the carnage begins
To WOD without warm-up is near a sin
There’s laps to be jogged, worms to be inched,
Just cause it’s warm-up, doesn’t mean it’s a cinch.
We master the movements with PVC pipe
Go through motions before all the hype.
We load up our bars to SD,AV, or RX’d
Chalk up our hands awaiting what’s next
Nervous jitters, make me go pee
Sometimes not once, two, maybe three
The music is turned to a WOD-worthy roar
Easily heard from outside the front door
I savor each moment, for how I know
My world drastically changes post 3-2-1 Go!
From that very second, everything else washes away
It doesn’t matter if I had a bad day
My heart starts to pound, the sweat starts to pour
But all that I notice is how many reps I have more
The universe around me fails to exist
Just me and the WOD, and the need to persist
If I can succeed this physical feat
Nothing in life can have me beat
So to the end, it’s a fight to the finish
Not even a second I want to relinquish
Although I may not always be at my prime
The best part of my day is when I call “Time!”
Gasping for breath, I flail all over the mat
Like a fish pulled out of its bowl by a cat
Each of our battles comes to an end.
One by one we recover, as if back from the dead.
To the white board we go, to post our stats
As soon as we can pull ourselves up off the mat
Away go our weapons of destruction from hell
Every bar, med. ball, or kettlebell.
Now that the deed has gotten done
We can go back to having fun
Scope out the tee’s, new on the rack
Or try out MOB WOD to stretch out the back
Maybe B.P. will do some weird trick while inverted
Prompting pics on F.B., with comments perverted
The next class nervously squirms, on the benches they sit
Hesistant to ask “So… How was it?”
I give thanks that I had an hour on the clock
To get my WOD on, at the CFO Box
But if I don’t come, cause I was writing this poem.
At least Sam will post, the WOD from his IPhone.