Nancy--and Community

Yesterday, I did Nancy.  (By the way, CrossFit is one of the only places where that statement is perfectly acceptable).  Anyway, yesterday I did Nancy for the third time since I started CrossFitting a year ago.  It was my slowest time, and my biggest effort--and it was not only one of the most rewarding things I've done lately, but it got me thinking about the CrossFit community.

"Nancy" is a "benchmark" workout, one of the WODs that CrossFitters everywhere do.  It's a way to record your own progress, or to measure yourself against others.  There are lots of benchmark WODs consisting of a lot of diabolical combinations of movements; Nancy happens to be five rounds for time of 400 meter run/15 overhead squats.  Rx, or "prescribed weight," for the squats is 95 pounds for men, 65 pounds for women.  The first time I did Nancy, back in October, I used the 15 pound bar (that's right, just the bar--no weight) and I finished in just over 16 minutes.  The second time I did it, in April, my shoulder was bad and I had to do front squats (which are easier) instead of overhead squats; I did the squats with 50 pounds, and that time I finished in just under 22 minutes.  This time, I wanted to do the correct movements, and to do the WOD as heavy as I could.

I knew that attempting Rx weight was probably not a good idea; my overhead squat "one rep max" is 70 pounds, so trying to do 75 squats at just five pounds less than that was likely not in my best interest.  55 pounds, though...that might be doable.  And as a bonus, 55 pounds uses the big rubber 10-pound plates.  Dropping an empty bar (35 pounds) or a bar with two metal 5-pound plates (45 pounds) is a big no-no; dropping a bar with two rubber 10-pound plates, while not ideal (the plates are thin enough to bend when they get dropped) is slightly more acceptable--and with my sore shoulder that protests "lowering the bar," dropping is an attractive option.

So 55 pounds it was.  I did a few reps with just the bar to warm up, then loaded the 10-pound plates.  I approached the bar and got ready to snatch it overhead--and then froze.  Despite the fact that I had just snatched the empty bar overhead, my brain seized up when confronted with the bar with weights.  "Snatch? Huh?  Say what?  I have no idea how to do that."  So I did what I'm finally learning is necessary in such situations: I grabbed a PVC pipe and went through the "snatch" motion with no weight a couple of times.  Then, brain finally on board for the task, I snatched up the bar and did an overhead squat with 55 pounds.

And it felt...OK.  Heavy. "75 reps of this will be a stretch" heavy.  But the coach watched me do a rep (he had requested three reps but at my age "warmed up" can quickly segue into "worn out" so I stopped at one) and gave his blessing to the weight, so I decided to go for it.  I planned to split the squats into sets of 5 right from the start, and just see what happened.

And what happened was...I did it.  I mostly made the sets of five; once I got "stuck in the hole" (at the bottom of my squat) at three and had to drop the bar; twice I made it to seven before I had to drop the bar. My final set was one of the ones where I made it to seven before taking a break, and when I took that break, I was the only one in the box still working on Nancy.  I was tired, I was dripping sweat, my arms were wobbly, and I was getting PVC's at the bottom of every squat (having your heart feel like it's skipping a beat just when you're preparing to exert maximum effort is a bit distracting).

Those last eight reps were looking mighty hard...and that's where the CrossFit community came into play.

As I reached down for the bar to start my final reps, people started coming over--not just the coach, but those who had already finished the WOD.  They were cheering; they were counting down my reps for me; they were telling me "you got this" and "come on, pick that bar up, you can do it."  And it helped...a lot.  I got through 5 more reps (I think.  My memory on these things gets a bit muddled), then dropped the bar again.  More cheers and support.  I picked up the bar again and snatched it overhead, determined to get the final three squats.  I didn't.  I got through two and then dropped the bar.

"That's OK!  One more! Pick it up!"

And I did.  I snatched the bar up, squatted, and then, sweat running into my eyes, PVC's thumping merrily away, arms shaking, I slooooowly stood back up.

And then dropped the bar and assumed the CrossFit post-WOD "Dead Possum" position. I had exceeded the 22-minute time cap, for my slowest Nancy ever...but I had done it with a weight that I hadn't thought possible.

"Good job!"

I opened my eyes and looked up to see a fist waiting for a fist bump--a fist belonging to the 13-year-old kid who had been one of the loudest cheer-ers. I happily returned his fist bump...and started thinking about the CrossFit Community.

I've been hearing and reading a lot about the CrossFit "community" lately; about the support and positive energy in boxes and at competitions; about how the last to finish often gets more applause than the first.  Sports Illustrated had an article about it; the announcers talked about it during the recent Reebok CrossFit Games (the CrossFit championships); I witnessed it at Mayhem in Mankato.  I've experienced it before first-hand (finishing a WOD last is still about a twice-weekly occurrence for me), but I've never really overanalyzed it thought about it before.

I know some people get cranky about getting cheered on when they're last.  Some people don't like the attention, and some people take exception to being cheered by someone who finished more quickly but who used a lighter weight.

Me?  I love it, and I think it's one of the coolest things about CrossFit.  I love it because we're cheering effort; we're supporting pushing one's limits; we're acknowledging people who choose to try something that's a stretch for them, regardless of how easy someone else might find the task.  Sure, it's awesome and inspiring and cool to watch the Rich Froning's and the "Mayhem in Mankato" winners and the studs and studettes in our local boxes; they rock at this and they are impressive as hell and it's fun watching people who are good at something.  But the truth is, not everyone can perform at that level...but everyone can push themselves, everyone can try something just a little bit harder than they thought possible, everyone can test their limits.  And when they do, they expand those limits just a little bit further every time, and that is worthy of the loudest cheering and support we can give--and CrossFit is one of the few places I've found that actively encourages this attitude, that consistently displays this attitude, and that truly understands the value of supporting everyone at every level.

So Nancy was fun--but experiencing the CrossFit Community was even more fun.