Crossfit

In my wanderings around the internet, wherein I was trying to find a local place that teaches Krav Maga, I found this list on Gawker. You'll note that Crossfit is #8 in the list of working rankings. It reminded me of a time I went to a Crossfit introductory class with Cita.

Cita is in fantastic shape, and is a certified fitness instructor. Pre-baby thoughts, pre-baby pregnancy, and not too long after the arrival of the baby, Cita teaches classes in how to kick ass. As in your own flabby one. I do not attend her classes, but should, as my flabby behind is the source of my own self-derision.

So I joined her in an hour or so of this class, taught by her good friends who do everything I don't do - eat well, work out, care about their bodies as the machines of awesome that they can be. I felt a little bit like a freak being there, as the others who were trying the class were also clearly more concerned about their health that I am. But I went.

And had my ass roundly handed to me throughout the experience. It got so I wouldn't even try the jump-on-a-board exercise. I do not jump. I routinely question the need for curbs so I don't have to raise my knees. This being said, I did manage to defeat Cita in a rowing test. People, I can row. I have alarming upper body strength, which comes from carrying six or seven grocery bags, full of two-liter bottles, into my place. For almost eight years now.

So there's that.