My toe is purple and black, and I'm tremendously proud of it. I take pictures of it in different lights, to try to capture the variety of coloration. I proudly refer to it as "my first Crossfit injury." There had been no issue with weightbearing, walking, or movement, so it's just a beautiful bruise. Nothing is broken.

This morning Ryan was writing our workout on the board and I observed that I didn't know my max for push press. "Here," he said, "work with Michelle and Cassie."

Nervously I eyed them and protested that I could work alone just fine. Awkward that I would have to fully strip the bar every time it was my set, I tried to insist that I was fine alone. Cassie and Michelle, though, weren't hearing it. They insisted that I work with them, and Cassie asked, "How much do you want?"

"Well, um, I can press the bar..." I trailed off.

Cassie nodded. "Right. So you wanna try 5 pounds? Just add 5?" I couldn't let myself wimp out at an extra 5 pounds, so I agreed. The set of 5 reps was easy. To be sure I had to focus, but the weight wasn't beyond me.

I helped build for their rounds. Cassie is tiny, with a wisp of a torso and wiry, fluid arms. She's also fiercely strong and doggedly determined. She pressed 83# for a set, and handed off to Michelle.

Michelle, taller than Cassie, is just as determined. She's working her way up in weight, and also pressed 83# for reps. Then they stripped the bar for me.

"Let's try 5s. On both sides," I said timidly, and Cassie grinned.

"Right on!" she locked her side while I locked mine. My set was a bit slower, but I still finished.

Cassie and Michelle both tested 103#. Cassie, working for it, made all 5 reps. Michelle made 3 and dropped, then failed on 4. They stripped the bar for me again.

"Let's try 10s," I said, a bit braver now. With a bar of 53#, I completed 5 reps slowly and with great focus. With relief I re-racked the bar.

Cassie finished another set at 103#, and Michelle dropped back to 83# to finish her set. My last set came up and I went back to my 53#.

One rep. Two. Three. Focusing really hard on pushing the weight with my thighs, I dropped and sprang it up off my chest. Four. Resting on my chest, the weight seemed prohibitive. I couldn't make eye contact with anyone, but I heard Cassie say, "Use your legs! Fast and sharp!" I dropped my knees and threw the bar overhead, my elbows straining to straighten. Right arm locked out, my left arm as straight as it will ever go, I looked up, made sure it counted, and dropped the bar.

This time the plates protected my feet. My arms and hands shook with the exertion but I was flying. We whipped into a workout of set of 10 lunges and 10 burpees for time, and I finished in 10:22. Today the WOD wasn't my focus. My focus was on the bar overhead, on the triumphant feeling of having pushed for something I was nervous about and achieved. I know Cassie lifted more. I know Michelle lifted more. There were 16 people in the workout this morning, and every single one of them pushed more than I did. And I don't care. My strength will come. I am not in any way disappointed or ashamed of myself. I showed up, I worked, and I did it. My strength will come to me, and it will be glorious.