I talk a good game from time to time, but I’m as guilty as anyone.

I love to do stuff that I’m good at. I don’t like losing, or looking stupid in front of other people. I love – love – my carefully crafted comfort zone. I want to snuggle up in it with a warm blanket, a Morrissey album, and a piping hot cup of spicy apple cider.

This is what makes my latest little experiment so problematic. I must leave the nest big-time. I’ve made a big shit sandwich…now I must take a bite three days a week.

Let me explain.

For the most part, I am retired from competitive sport. While I’ve entered a few competitions the last few years, my desire to be the best at lifting heavy stuff has long since burned away.

My goals are now personal and my own. I just want to keep the romance in my training…To keep exploring and tinkering with my form.

That being said, I do stick to what I’m good at. I lift heavy weights. I lift almost heavy weights fast. I do a bit of conditioning, but it’s with a heavy sled. I assume you can see the pattern?

It’s silly. I know how easy it is to carve out a little rut for yourself and hide there, cider and all. I know the false sense of satisfaction that comes with trying a few new things, when in actuality, these are just minor genetic variations of all the same old shit you always do.

What’s really required is something fundamentally different – Something from another species all-together.  So, this understanding brings me here, to the point where I am actually participating in Crossfit…All 300 pounds of me.

This begs the question, why?

Well, every few years I feel the need to molt…To peel off my skin and take shape in some other form. About 11 years ago I had been pushed to the brink by the sport of football. I wanted to be anything other than a player, so I ran to powerlifting. I embraced the idea with everything that I had. I grew the goatee, shaved my head, and immersed myself in the “culture.”

I also gained about 100 pounds of body weight, pushing my carcass up to a peak load of 370 pounds.

You can guess what happened 6 years or so later. I had burned myself out once again. I was done yelling and screaming and chasing the next personal record. More  and more was feeling like less and less. It was just time.

In about a year or so my body weight had dropped to 235 lbs, the lightest I had been since the sixth grade!

I adopted a whole new persona, one where the performance goals just didn’t matter much at all. What mattered was wearing pants with a waist line measuring less than 40 (I got down to the low 30’s!).

But as with anything, my feelings changed. I warmed back up to the idea of competing. I resumed my training, slowly inching my way back to 300 pounds.

I’ve been here now for about 2 years. I’ve had a blast. I’ve made a bit of a run in the sport of strongman, something I always wanted to do. I’ve stepped back onto the powerlifting platform, this time according to my rules. I wasn’t chasing anything.

But here we are. It seems to be that time again.

A few days ago, I put up a post talking about wisdom. Well, I’m going to take my own advice. I’ve been really, really strong. I want to stay strong. But I’m not looking for a continual string of personal records. I’m just looking to feel the weight of the bar in my hands. That’s such a great feeling.

This frees up space for other goals.

I’m pretty fit for a large guy, but I don’t meet the standards of Crossfit. And you know what? That’s bullshit! It’s time to do some work.

This latest experiment is underway. I’m crawling out of my rut and into the sunshine. After a total of 3 WODs, this much is confirmed…I suck. But that’s just fine. The shift will come.

This will surely bring a drastically new perspective. It may even ultimately allow me to become much stronger. Perhaps I’ll step back onto the competitive platform as a much smaller guy. That would be a novel twist in the story. But that’s way down the line.

No, I think I’ll keep the goals modest for now. Let’s take this one wall ball, pull-up, and double under at a time. Who knows where this little path will lead?

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