Sunday, June 17, 2012

Dear Crossfit, I thank you...


Someone once told me that if you’re not getting better, you’re getting worse. This was likely from a coach during my playing days but I have transferred this message over to my everyday life. There is not a day that goes by where I do not actively go out of my way to get better in some form or fashion. However, just like most people, I have my day to day struggles that inhibit my overall personal and professional growth. It is this idea of life struggles that sparked the idea for the premise of this blog post. Just as in previous post, I am going to be completely honest with all of you in an effort to continue to let go of the darkness from my past.

As I mentioned in a previous blog, I had a career ending back injury during my senior season of football in college. In the year leading up to that point, I had two back surgeries and multiple epidurals. Each surgery was roughly two hours long. After this injury, I had to undergo a more serious surgery to repair my back. The surgery was nearly 9 hours long in which my surgeons fused my lower spine from L3 and down. The first 4 hours consisted of them going through my stomach to take out my disc and replace them with what’s called spacers. They sewed me up and then flipped me over and entered metal cages and screws through incisions in my lower. This part lasted about another 4-5 hours. So I have one scar across my stomach that looks like a smiley face (its kind of weird) and three vertical scars on my lower back. I had to be on bed rest for about 5 weeks after surgery. After that time period, it would be another year before I would be able to do any sort of strenuous physical activity that I had come accustomed to throughout my time as an athlete. Imagine going from training as a D1 collegiate football player to not even being able to stand for longer than 15mins without being in pain. After about 6 months I started doing some physical rehab in the pool and light core work. However, it just was not the same and it was hard to deal with, emotionally. Needless to say, the transition out of being a competitive athlete was a definite struggle especially given the fact that I was unable to train. So while others found hobbies such as intramural, recreational, and club sports to fill their void, I was stuck walking with a cane and using tools to help put on my clothes. I don’t tell you that for your pity but rather to put things in perspective. 

Once I did my time and got clearance to work out again, it was hard finding the motivation to train again. The extent of my working out, at the time, consisted of walking on a treadmill while watching bad television or ESPN. I had become the stereotypical “Globo” gym goer that walked day after day on the treadmill without any sort of measurable gains in fitness. I made friends at the gym and we would talk while walking and share stories from our lives. The staff knew me by name because I came in at the same time every day. I was a regular and, admittedly, I started to like that normal lifestyle. It was not until one day that I was walking to my treadmill, getting my mind right for the workout ahead, when I saw this lady on her cell phone and cutting her fingernails while on her treadmill. I stopped in my tracks and it hit me that I had become yet another gym statistic just wasting time and energy. I was not much better than this disgusting woman actually cutting her finger nails on the treadmill and letting them fall on to the belt and then onto the floor. I promptly turned around, got my stuff out of my locker, and walked out the front doors never to return again. 

After this revelation, I felt I needed to rediscover myself as an athlete and a competitor. At first I wasn’t sure what I was going to do. My back felt better but I still was not able to do anything too active. It was about this time when I remembered my strength coaches from college getting involved with Crossfit. Some of our teams had started doing it and a few of my teammates were actively Crossfitting as well. I remembered them all mentioning they loved the competitiveness and community that Crossfit provided. They said it was close to the feeling of being on a team again. With this in mind, I decided to look up Crossfit gyms here in Lubbock. After typing in “Crossfit Lubbock” in my Google search, the first result was a link to Capstone Crossfit. I did not know that by clicking on that link that my life would be changed forever. 

I started at Capstone Crossfit on May 17, 2010. Since that day, the people at Capstone Crossfit have done more for me that they will ever know. Anyone that knows me can attest to the fact that achieving success in all that I do is my driving force. There is nothing average about my life. Everything I do is done in a respectable and noteworthy manner. However, the year after my surgery I had drifted so far away from this lifestyle. I was average and nothing more. But Crossfit helped me find myself again. I loved getting absolutely destroyed during workouts. It was unlike anything I had ever experienced before. My athletic past was a non-factor at first. I couldn’t muscle my way through these workouts like I could in a game going up against a big d-lineman. Realizing that despite my 10+ years of football, I was on the low end of the Crossfit totem pole. This forced me to train harder and harder like I once did. I also had to force myself to re-establish my mental toughness. I had become weak mentally but Crossfit made me retrain my mind. All the true competitors reading this right now know that your mind will keep you going even when your body feels as if it has no more to give. Crossfit pulled me up from my darkness and brought me back to life. I had to change my entire physical and mental approach if I was to ever be somewhat respectable at Crossfit. 

Things get much deeper than that though. Crossfit changed me in other ways as well. The people at Capstone come from all different walks of life. They all have a story, some good and some bad. But they all respect one another. As a member of the sporting world you often get stuck in the sports bubble. By that I mean you have a hard time relating to anyone who is not involved with sports. Crossfit is filled with people who never played sports competitively. They are the type of people that would come to see others like me play. We appreciated their support but we rarely associated with them. There is almost an arrogance that comes with being an athlete. You feel as if you’re above others in certain ways. I am guilty of this too. In fact, most are even if they won’t admit it to themselves. However, Crossfit continues to humble me in this regard. It makes you appreciate everyone for their abilities and skills. On a given day the person who finished in last the day before can blow the workout out of the water and beat everyone. You learn to respect everyone despite your preconceived notions of their abilities. Also, Crossfit people are just good people all around (for the most part). On a good day, the Crossfit gym will make you feel even better. On the other side, bad days seem to just fade away once you walk into the gym and see all your fellow Crossfitters ready to put in some work. The sense of family and community is real. The people there sincerely care about you. You become great friends and relevant in each others lives outside of the gym. Crossfit gives you a confidence that is hard to find in other recreational sporting realms. Insecurities that once plagued your life start to fade away slowly but surely. You become proud of everything in your life. You learn to accept yourself just the way you are. 

The workouts, the people, the community, and the family that Crossfit has to offer is destined to make an impact in anyone’s life. So to all those apart of my Capstone Crossfit family and to all Crossfitters around the world, thank you. You helped this once lost soul, stricken with one hardship after another, to rediscover himself and establish an unwavering resiliency that will never be broken again. 

Here’s to finding that “thing” which helps you to keep moving forward even when you can’t see what lies ahead. 

Justin