Returning to the Scene

Update:

I went back for my second CrossFit class last Tuesday.
It's Sunday and I am still having trouble using my hand to push my glasses up the bridge of my nose.

It's a sad, sad state of affairs.

I won't go into details of the workout, but let's just say it was like water-boarding without the fun.

I spoke with my husband after Tuesday's class and he reminded me that CrossFit is training for Marines... Marines who are 18 years old.  Mike then asked me, "How old is everyone in your class?" I hadn't thought about it until he asked. "I don't know," I said, "20's, 30's... I think I'm the oldest."

Yes, 45 is a lot older than 18.
There was a pause that gave me pause.
Maybe I didn't think this through as thoroughly as I should have.

...

I spoke to my parents on the phone the following day.  The second day of recovery is the worst.  I described the hour-long class to them, and after the snickering laughter (and do not judge my parents' support of me on this story, please), there was a pause (again!).  My father then said, "Well, we called to get your social security number for your life insurance policy, but obviously we'll be outliving you, so this is a moot point."

Lovely.

At school, I tried to explain what I was doing in CrossFit to my students (because I couldn't move and needed help) and Dylana said, "Why didn't you just LEAVE? Why did you stay?" The whole class turned to me and waited for the logical answer I didn't have.

There was that pause again.
Ugh.

...

Here's the thing.

I don't believe I'm 45.  I don't.  Come on. How many of you really identify with your age in years?  Anyone?! I understand those YouTube videos of some senior citizen standing up to kick some hoodlum's *ss.  I get it. (Did you see the guy take down a thug on a NYC crosstown bus?)


Here are the other things.

• I have a hot, fit husband who's older than I am.  
• My brother runs faster and longer than I do and he has a hot, fit doctor wife. 
• One of my closest female friends (and athletic partner) is 28.  
• I try and hang with some majorly competitive male friends who do ultra triathlons.  
• I come from a previous career in theater and those people are AGELESS. 

Most importantly, though, here's the final thing.

I believe I can be more than I am now.  After all, we are our stories.  If the story I tell myself is that I'm mid-40's and I should be winding down, well, then there's a Snuggie and a Barcalounger waiting for me.

So, I'm going to continue to return to the scene.  It may only be once a week.  It may be a humbling beat-down every single time.  Who am I kidding?  It WILL be a humbling beat-down every single time.  But I will continue to return.

I want to write my own story.