A CrossFit poem

CrossFit becomes so addictive sometimes we even write poetry…or at least attempt to…

Here goes nuthin’…

‘Twas the night after Christmas, and all through the gym not an athlete was moving, not even a limb.  

The pull up bands were hung by the bay doors with care in hopes that Phil, the beloved cross fit coach, would soon be right there.  

The Crossfitters were waiting all snug in their cars, while they were having visions of dumbells and bumpers and bars.

When all of a sudden in the blink of an eye, the light came on bright and we let out a sigh.

Out of the cars we filed like ants in a maze, and took off our jackets while feeling in a bit of a haze.

Phil greeted his members with a wave and a stare wondering if his programming prowess had followed him there.

The PVC pipe gets picked from the bin, and the athletes limber up with a smile and a grin.

Then comes the warmup he writes on the board, more push ups, and inch worms, and bear crawls, oh lord.

At quarter passed the hour a hush falls afoot when Phil grabs the marker and gives us a look.

The workout of the day is considered a WOD, please don’t let it be Fran, please no dear, oh no dear, oh god!

The lid is plucked off, and with great attention, Phil starts drawing letters and combo’s we’d hoped he’d not mention!

A team WOD with rowing and lifting for three is enough to send chills down the spines of the most athletic of thee.

3, 2, 1, go! Is the command next we hear, and from this small phrase we get our butts up in full gear.

We lift and we sweat and we breathe at a pace that no one will wonder if this WOD is a race.

“On Tasha, on Kyla on Lori and Corey, the holidays are over and you are working for glory!”

As the workout continues the music plays on, when it is all said and done will you remember a song?

Time’s counting up as the body wears down, but a fight to the finish is how Crossfit DV gets it on!

One athlete by one the floor will now hold, some how and some way, the times will unfold.

Angels of sweat and ripped hands are the norm, callouses and thick skin takes not long to form.

12 and :03, and :04, and :05, I’m not sure what my time is I’m just glad to survive.

After a minute or two on the floor all alone, we peel ourselves up off the floor with a slight groan.

Smiling, damp faces is all that you see, “it feels good to be done!” she says so with glee.

The WOD board is littered with our names and our times, and Phil’s camera is full of pictures of people’s behinds.

Until tomorrow we wait for a chance to redeem, hopefully we are not so sore that we scream!

Too scared to go and too scary to miss, it is Crossfit baby, it is the path to elite fitness!

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