Fat girl tries CrossFit — The first week
And then there was day two. Day two took feeling stupid to a whole new low.
The W.O.D. for my second time around was four rounds of running a fourth mile, 10 pull ups, 15 push press and 20 burpees. As I started the first round, I made the rookie mistake of getting caught up in the pace of everyone around me rather than going at my own speed. By the time I was just starting the running portion of the first round, I was completely out of air. One moment, breathing, next moment, not breathing. I started to wheeze like an asthmatic with black lung.
One of the instructors, Keith, made me sit down and kept asking if I was OK and if this had ever happened before. I said — in between gasps and wiping away the tears streaming down my face — that it had not. He told me that in all likelihood, I’d hit my max heart rate. Or something like that. I wasn’t really listening, as I was distracted with trying to will myself into evaporating on the spot as the others jogged by. Stupidity mixed with an equal part total embarrassment. Awesome combo.
But I didn’t quit. My breathing and heart rate quieted, I slowed my pace to something I could handle and gutted out the next 20 minutes or so. I didn’t finish the workout; Keith made me stop at the half hour mark. Yes, I still felt super stupid and embarrassed, despite all the encouraging words from Keith and the other members. But I’d learn an invaluable lesson about pacing.
And I knew I was coming back until I got it right.