My second Saturday workout. Excited, nervous. I went in and grabbed a lacrosse ball and was working on releasing my hip when another new woman who was filling out paperwork asked, "How do you spell sciatica?" Stephan, walking in front of her, trained a finger at me and kept walking. I chimed in, "S-C-I-A-T-I-C-A!" and he gave me a thumbs up. Even after a week, people know things about me. This thrills me to pieces.

Warmup was the same as last week, but the workout was not. This workout was 15 minutes AMRAP: fence run, 5 pushups, 15 air squats, and 20 single jump-rope skips. Okay. I haven't jumped rope in 30 years, but I'm game to try.

It turns out that jumping rope is similar to riding a bicycle: once you learn it, you don't really forget it. With a tiny bit of practice I was able to spin out my 20 jumps in one go. The challenge of the fence run is still there. But again, I'm game to do anything.

First round: okay, I got this. Second round: fence run again?? Third round: can I just do all pushups and squats? Fourth round: Which way is the fence? I'm kinda lost...

I've been reading about the mental side of Crossfit, and what I am discovering is fascinating. The brain, of course, controls all movement. But it is the linking together of those movements that is lacking in modern gyms. It is one thing to have strong thighs that can extend under the weight of a machine that works your quads, or to have glutes that will contract when you do the leg press machine. It is another thing entirely to have legs that will move you through a squat while your arms and torso counterbalance your weight and stabilize your pelvis. Crossfit is not a gym, and it is not a gym workout. This is something different.

There's also something that happens, a tunnel vision of sorts, when you are working this hard in the middle of an AMRAP. I'm fine for the first couple of rounds. After that my focus and my awareness shift. I don't know where my brain goes, but I've had it happen every single time. I can only focus on the next set of exercises, and nothing else. I can only conceive of doing those exercises. When I finished the fourth set of the workout today, I had one minute to go on the timer. A new round would start with the 240-meter fence run, and I knew I wasn't going to get out to the fence and back before time was called. Stephan said, "that's okay, that's okay, just keep moving." So I WALKED IN CIRCLES. It didn't occur to me until much later that I could continue with the pushups or the squats, or pick up my jump rope again. My brain was so focused on directing the next step of this incredible exertion that no other rational thought got through.

I think this is how people get hurt in Crossfit. You really are not aware of what you're doing, you're just focused on the next repetition, the next set, the next round. When you come out of the fog you realize things like "I probably should have worn my ankle brace" or "wow, knees don't like jump roping after a 30 year break," but when you're doing it you really don't know these things. That's why the coaches are so important (there were four monitoring the class). I had Stephan and Mick show up by my elbow several times to either correct me or check on me. One thing this box is is attentive.

I feel safe here. And I am the slowest, I am the heaviest. But no one comments except to say good things and encourage me. No one reviles me. No one is openly disgusted by me. I feel safe moving and challenging myself, living in my body and interacting with my body in a way I never have before.