Recently, I started doing CrossFit. Which has the opposite rule of fight club: The first rule of CrossFit is to never stop talking about CrossFit. It’s been very challenging physically, but the most fulfilling thing psychologically that I’ve done in a long time. You quickly learn that you are capable of so much more than you thought. But you only realize that as you push yourself to your limits. Which I would never do on my own. I like living comfortably within my limits. But when my coach asks me to do something, I try my best. I don’t say coach I can’t. I try. Sometimes I fail and will need a modification (that is, an easier movement that still has the full range of motion of the movement prescribed, but more accommodating to my physical limitations). The thing is, I never just assume I need a modification. I always try it first. Sometimes I can barely do one, or sometimes I can do one but very very slowly. At times my coach will say, good job Marissa, now let’s modify this a bit, or he’ll say good job Marissa, keep at it, I don’t care how long it takes you’re building great strength & form. Which leads me to one of my least favorite movements. The inchworm.
This inchworm is very similar to a sun salutation in yoga. I stand feet together, or hip length apart then bending down using my hands I inch out my body walking out to a plank (or push up position). From there I do a push up. Then I walk my hands back to my feet and stand up again. I do this all while making sure my knees never bend. My legs should be fully extended the entire time. Whew! And that is only ONE rep. We are typically asked to do 10 of these. TEN! I’m proud to say that I don’t need a modification, but also it takes me about x3 as long to complete these as everyone else in my class. And man, it’s a blow to my ego. I like to be the best at everything I can. But I am NOT the best at inchworms, or burpees for that matter but we’ll save that for another conversation.
The cool thing about the inchworms is that they represent both challenge and triumph. When standing in the starting position, it feels like how in the world am I gonna complete 10 of these? But then you do it. Not all at once. But one inch at a time. One hand walking out after the other. And each time you stand again, you realize you’re that much closer to completing the assignment. I’ve been thinking a lot about the inches in my life. You see, I’ve been re-reading The Slight Edge
I was reading a chapter earlier this week. One quote stood out to me, “Greatness is always in the moment of the decision.” Greatness is one of those big powerful words. I’m like the hyenas in The Lion King trembling over the word Mufasa. “Oooh say it again! Mufasa, Mufasa, Mufasa!” I spend a lot of time thinking about words like greatness and legacy and impact. These words evoke so much more in me than a word like success. I often think of greatness, legacy, etc as being on a large scale of time, something amazing and grandiose amassed over a lifetime of excellence. But greatness isn’t made once we all recognize the accolades and accomplishments. It’s made way before that. In the daily decisions. In the inches. So this morning I grabbed my yoga mat, and went into the living room and completed 5 inchworms. FIVE! And honestly, it wasn’t as difficult as I imagined. There was a lot of resistance to get started, but once I put those hands out one at a time, inch by inch I felt more and more confident. Pretty soon, I know I’ll be able to do 10 quickly, or 20 or 30 or 50. I know, because I’ve already got what it takes. I’ve got the willingness to start, to try, one inch at a time.
[1] I highly recommend reading this book