I’m afraid of a lot of things. I don’t like to think of all the things I fear because then I start counting them, and fear I fear too many things.
Mainly, though, I’m afraid of all athletic challanges. So let’s talk about that.
You want me to knock on the door of a man facing murder charges and ask for an interview? I’ve done it, and I wasn’t afraid. Tell me to jump onto something or do a handstand? I panic.
You know, it took me almost four years of crossfiting to feel semi-comfortable jumping on a 24-inch box. It’s like a mountain to me.
I fell once, and have a scar on my leg to remind me. It hurt a lot. It still hurts if I touch it.
Now I have to jump once or twice near the box to remind myself I can reach it. It’s almost like a tic.
A coach who believes in me kept pushing me to try a few months ago; I almost cried, and I’m not a crier. I came to terms with the fact that I would always just jump on a 20-inch box for a workout, and that really was alright. Then, out of nowhere, I decided maybe a 24-inch box jump was a possibility for me.
Crossfit has taught me something intresting about myself— I’m a pessimist. I’d say I’m a realist, but isn’t that what pessimists say?
I see only everything that could wrong: I could fall. It could hurt. If I try, I could break something. I have before.
I think it’s ok to be a pessimist in that way. Let’s call me careful.
Despite my reservations, I’ve also learned I can still achieve many things that seem so impossible. I just take more measured steps.