CrossFit: Let Me Hear Your War Cry

"CrossFit will change your life!"

I regularly hear this from all sorts of people—at least once a week. My fellow CrossFitters have all received bloody shins after too many Sumo Deadlift High Pulls and have subscribed to the ideology that the human body constantly needs to be tested by varied forms of physical craziness that would make any "Curves" gym in the country look like a rest home. It's an environment full of energy and anticipation, and Lorton's  is full of people who want a challenge, have something to prove to themselves and know that there is always a better tomorrow. 

So, I'm six weeks in and the big question is this: Have I seen positive changes in my life? Big time.

CrossFit Week 6

I missed a week of CrossFit last week due to a family emergency, and flew home to San Antonio, Texas. The five-day trip was incredibly relaxing. I hung out with family, ate Mexican food, drank beer and slept until noon every day.

I got back into town last Thursday feeling like a million bucks, like a well-treated 31-year-old sports car ready to hit the road at 150 miles per hour. Before Crossfit, I would have returned from Texas feeling like a 1958 Ford Edsall (heavy, thirsty and slow).  

On Monday I was working and eating lunch at the Subway at Lorton Station Boulevard and two young guys walked into the restaurant. They didn't buy anything, and as they were walking out one of them picked up my camera from the table and ran out the door. The camera thief is a Hispanic male, six-feet-tall with a mustache, blue jeans, tennis shoes, greased black hair, blackheads around his nose, between 18 and 22 years old. His friend, who was running ahead of him, was also Hispanic, about six-feet-tall, between 18 and 22 and had short, curly black hair.

Here's what I wrote about the incident on Lorton Patch's Facebook page immediately after it happened: 

"Wow. I was working at Subway in Lorton just now and this guy picked up my camera and ran off. I chased him two blocks and he stumbled, and I caught up with him. "Take it, man!" he shouted at me. I grabbed him by his shirt and said: "Hold on a second! Before you run off, I need to tell you something. I killed myself to get that camera and you never would have gotten away from me." I let him go, and he said this as he backed away: "Man, I'm sorry. I needed that camera to eat."

I didn't mention that the entire time I chased these guys I was screaming at them at the top of my lungs—and not nice things. When I walked around the corner with my camera, all of the employees at the various shops at Lorton Station were standing outside wondering what was going on. 

"I heard the screaming," said one wide-eyed owner. "I was just thinking of [the] Lululemon [incident]."

After my Facebook post, CrossFit Liberation coach Tat Newsome wrote this reply: "CrossFit. See how it fits into to your life."

From Coach Mark Zaragoza: "Damn bro. Be careful, not that I would have done anything different than you had done, but in the same. More than one gives you a major disadvantage. Glad you are good to go."

Now, I would have chased those guys no matter what, but if you've been following my CrossFit columns you'll know that I hate to run like my mom hates mice. I would have chased those idiots with or without CrossFit, but because of these intense Workouts of the Day and constant coaching from Atom and Carrie Ziniewicz and their trainers, I knew that the only thing they'd ever get away with was their crummy thieving selves. Running still sucks for me, but it's a whole lot easier chasing someone down with a crazy war cry than having to do it with a 90-pound rucksack on your back. 

Next week: CrossFit Success Stories