By Lauren Anderson
I bet you thought I was gonna talk about Hoosiers. Well, surprise! I’m not.
Don’t get me wrong, I love Hoosiers. It’s right up there with Rudy, and Remember The Titans as one of my favorite sports movies. And that’s saying something, because I love sports movies. When people find this out about me, they’re usually surprised because I don’t know anything about sports. But what can I say? What’s not to love about people fighting and training and overcoming insurmountable odds to achieve their dreams? Nothing. Clear eyes. Full hearts. Can’t lose.
Instead let’s focus our attention on a lesser known football joint, The Replacements. Yes. That movie starring Keanu Reeves and Orlando Jones and the OG coach-beyond-reproach, Gene Mother-Fing Hackman. This is one of those movies I’m always in the mood to watch. When it comes on cable, I never change the channel. Along with The Princess Bride, Dirty Dancing, and Roadhouse. (Swayze, amiright?)
Say what you will about this movie, but I love it. Is it good? Well, define good. But it has a few things going for it:
- Gene Hackman as a tough and lovable coach that believes in you more than you do.
- Ex-athletes/ failed in the past/ rag-tag bunch of screw-ups getting a redemption.
- Rich, ungrateful, jerks getting their comeuppance. And growing as people in the process.
It also has this part where Keanu (the quarterback) keeps choking on a certain play. So in the penultimate game, Keanu goes over Hackman’s head and switches the play so he can give the ball to somebody else. After they win by the skin of their teeth, Hackman yells at Keanu. And Keanu’s all, “What’s your problem Coach, we won.” and Gene’s all, “That’s not good enough.” And then Hackman drops a quote that has stuck with me since my first viewing:
“Winners don’t give up the ball when the game is on the line.”
I love it. Something about it really speaks to me. When you are adept, expert, passionate about something, you want IN. You want the ball. You want people to rely on you. You want the pressure, because you know you can handle it. Because you’re a winner. And feeling like a winner, is almost better than actually winning most of the time. So Ipso-Facto, how do you feel like a winner? Get. Dat. Ball. There are a few areas of my life where I feel this way, and the quote holds up. When I’m doing something I feel like a winner at, I want the proverbial “ball” EVERY DAMN TIME.
Cut to: CrossFit. My First Official Class.
After three sessions of one-on-one training with Coach Jenn, both she and Coach Hannah decided it was time I tried an actual class. Ah! Now we’re cooking with gas. I learned some moves, I have survived them so far, and it’s time to do it publicly.
I am an actor, so I can usually go to classes during the day. I decided on Tuesday, 11:30. This is a choice time for a person like me, given I usually work until one a.m. and only wake up in the morning when I have to. Me and the morning have a mutual understanding. You do your morning thing, and I’ll do my thing, and everyone will get along fine. I have the same healthy respect for mornings as I do for horses and opera. It’s not really my thing, but I’m glad they exist and bring joy to others.
I pick out a variation of yoga pant and a baggy t-shirt with Eleanor Roosevelt’s face on it (My spirit animal). Learning my lesson, I make sure to wear a heavy duty sports bra (I invested in one after the last breakage) and my neon green Vans instead of my usual exercise shoes. (Kicks with a flatter bottom usually reserved for just looking fly as hell, but will work for class.) And I’m out the door.
I arrive. I see two people I know from the improv scene. Cool! Some buds are there. And about 6 other people I don’t know. It’s a mix of bodies and genders and everyone is friendly. Some people have more serious gear on, but most are in t-shirts just like me. I relax a little.
Coach Hannah greets me. She asks if I’ve signed in. Nope. What? That’s when I learn about Wodify. A computer site thingy in the CrossFit matrix that tracks your workouts/ signs you in for class/ lets you know the workout (WOD)/ and a bunch of other stuff I have neither learned about, or utilized yet. They send you a video you can watch on Youtube. I’ll get to it one day, I promise. But, first A then B right? Right. Besides, I’m not saying I’m a luddite, but I’m not not saying it either.
So, CrossFit rocks in the digital age. When you join, you get your own page on Wodify, and that’s where your coach enters your stats and times etc. You can also use it to track food, water, and stuff. I’m not quite ready for all that yet. But, I’m glad it’s there (y’know like horses and opera). I try to download the app on my phone, but my phone’s “smartness” is questionable. No time to dwell, I’ll fix it later, cause class is about to start.
We circle up. Coach Hannah asks a get-to-know-you question. Today’s question is “Who is your Favorite Feminist Icon from History?” We go around the circle and say our names and the names of our favorite ladies who changed the world. I’m glad I wore my Eleanor shirt. Then we take a seat on the floor and Coach goes over the workout (WOD) on the board.
I know Coach Hannah is speaking english, but it’s not really words. More acronyms. And some numbers. It’s a series of noises and sounds, beeps and boops. It sounds like the adults in the Peanuts universe. I feel like a foreigner with no translator. But not to worry, cause one thing about CrossFit at Solcana, is everything gets thoroughly explained. No one gets left in the dust.
We start with warm ups, Coach Hannah does this handstand thing on the wall. I’m impressed, and at the same time I’m thinking, “WTF”. But just before I grab my coat to go get a latte instead, she shows us three other variations of the same move for different skill levels. Pick the one you think you can do. Oh, okay. I’m still not quite sure… and like she’s read my mind, Coach gives me an individual suggestion. She does this for a few others in the class. I am grateful for this. Even though it’s a class, you still feel like you are being personally trained. Major plus. Then we get to getting at our own thing. Everyone is being supportive. No one is judging. It’s pretty rad actually.
Next it’s the weightlifting stuff. We pair up. Before I even have time to worry I won’t be picked, a nice lady asks to be partners. And she wasn’t even the 2 people I knew! My inner seventh grader in gym class does a victory lap.
Today we’re doing Thrusters. It’s basically like a squat and then you lift the barbell over your head. It feels badass. My body feels like a powerful engine that could. And does. And does it again. My partner keeps going, “Yeah! You got this!” and it feels great to hear. She can’t believe it’s my first time. This is really affirming. We’re inspiring each other to keep adding weight. You got the support of your coach, your partner, and the rest of the class. Suddenly, I feel like part of a badass community. Like we’re the League of Assassins at a fun, non-lethal, work retreat.
Also, I know I’ve mentioned this before, but being reminded of how strong you are and all your body can do is a goddamn glorious feeling. Especially if you are like me, and live your life in your head. It’s good to be reminded there is a rest of you. And it is strong.
Next, it’s time for the cardio part. I have learned at CrossFit they call this MetCon. Short for, Metabolic Conditioning. I still feel silly for calling it this, like I haven’t earned the acronym cred yet, but when in Rome I guess? So the MetCon is hardcore. It’s a series of fast deadlifts, ring rows, sit ups (we meet again, Joker.) and sled pushes. As many as we can in 12 minutes.
The Sled Push. People in class who have done it before groan. Uh oh. It’s a rudimentary metal sled, that’s heavy as fuh, and you have to push it across the floor of the entire gym. No wheels. No deals. Just tenacity. You have to get low, otherwise it will dig into the ground. It’s almost like a football drill. A tackle dummy, only dumber.
The buzzer goes off, and it’s on! I get going. My partner is with me. We start at the sled push. Every partnership starts off on a different part of the MetCon, so no one would be standing around waiting. There is so much energy in the room. The tunes are bumping, and people are yelling out encouraging things. It feels like a party almost. A weird party where instead of dancing, you lift heavy things. But it’s still fun.
Time is dwindling down, each rep gets harder and harder. It’s almost over when I get to my last turn at the sled. It feels like a Sisyphean task at this point. My partner digs in and pushes her sled past me. She gives me a “C’mon! You got this!” in passing. No! Don’t go! Don’t leave me behind!
I know I could stop. Every smart part of me was urging me to do so. I hear Coach Hannah yell, “Last one! You can do it!” and I know this is it. I think of Gene Hackman. I think of him standing there, putting a strong hand on my shoulder, and telling me “I done good”. I think of Coach Hannah giving me a high five, and a “I told you you could do it” nod. And then it occurs to me.
Winners don’t give up the ball when the game is on the line…OR THE SLED.
I bent down and pushed that damn sled across that damn floor, and finished my last round of the MetCon like a conquering hero. Like a winner. Like a winner that dug in, and did it. Like a winner that could be relied on to get the job done. Like a winner that didn’t give up the ball, but drove that ball to the end zone like a tank. As I was panting, and drinking some much-deserved water, I pictured Gene Hackman smiling with pride on some distant golf course that retired Oscar winners frequent. We are nodding at each other. Winner to winner.
And what did I win? Three full days of being sore as hell, a new community, and one tremendous sense of accomplishment.