How CrossFit Challenged My Comfort Zone and Transformed My Life

home insemination Kit

After a year of gentle nudging from a neighbor and a desire to get fit before I hit the big 4-0, I finally gathered my courage and reached out to the owner of our local CrossFit gym. The concept of CrossFit intrigued me: it seemed straightforward, personalized, and quick-paced.

One chilly Thursday in March, I found myself in a stark, yellow space behind an auto glass factory, battling the cold and the smell from a nearby sanitation facility. I was surrounded by weights, chalky poles, and sweaty mats, trying to hold myself up in a push-up position.

A coach, who was both insightful and tough, grabbed some AbMats to bridge the gap between the floor and my chest. “She doesn’t need those!” the head trainer boomed. I thought to myself, “Maybe this guy sees something I don’t.”

I managed one push-up. Not bad. Two? Getting tougher. Three? Nope. “Can I do them on my knees?” I asked, unsure. Before the coach could respond, the owner shot back, “This isn’t some fairy princess class! No, you cannot do push-ups on your knees.”

Who did this guy think he was? A motivational guru? Feeling a bit intimidated, I swallowed my pride and got back to it—no AbMats for me.

After my On-Ramp session, the Sensitive Coach said, “You are stronger than you think. The only person standing in your way is you.” The head trainer smiled, gave me a high five, and said, “Great job for your first time.”

As I left, feeling like a wreck, a stunning woman smiled and said, “Just keep coming back.” I took that to heart, knowing the road ahead would be challenging but not realizing how much it would change me.

As a teen, I was the girl who struggled to do a rope climb, the one who typically played it safe and craved validation, and the shy person who kept friends at arm’s length. CrossFit forced me to confront those old insecurities head-on.

In this space, egos are left at the door. The only way to truly improve is to take risks, be vulnerable, and trust your coaches and peers. For someone like me, that was a bit nerve-racking. But I persevered, and gradually, I started to see progress.

There’s something magical about success. Whether it’s running a 400-meter lap without stopping, lifting weights overhead, or achieving that elusive pull-up, the joy is reminiscent of childhood triumphs—like learning to ride a bike without training wheels. It’s pure elation, especially when you never thought you could do it.

Pushing my physical and mental limits repeatedly showed me that I wasn’t as constrained as I believed. I learned to tap into my inner strength both in and out of the gym. I even conquered that rope!

However, the CrossFit journey isn’t always smooth. There are tough days and setbacks, but anytime I faced a challenge, the trainers and my fellow athletes were right there to support me. In that hour, our focus was on teamwork, community, and having fun. It’s a place where I felt validated and confident.

Amidst the sweat and struggle, I formed a close friendship with Mia, who started CrossFit around the same time as me. We quickly became workout buddies. After a year of camaraderie, she invited me to join her group of friends for a mud run. For someone who always wanted that tight-knit circle of friends but often felt like an outsider, Mia’s gesture meant the world to me. Now, we all participate together in events, solidifying our bond.

So here’s my takeaway: Discomfort is not just okay; it’s essential. It opens up new opportunities for growth. CrossFit was my path, but whatever your discomfort might be, lean into it.

Chalk up those hands, crank up the Katy Perry, and get to work. 3, 2, 1… let’s go!