I will admit it straight away: The only reason why I am flirting with the devil is pure peer pressure. But over the daily talks of the greatness of burpees and the satisfaction of wall-climbers, I got curious.
So I dug up the old and wrinkly sport clothes from the bottom of my drawer, and decided to get fit for summer.
After 60 minutes of burpees, squats, wall-climbers, push-ups and sit-ups, I was about to pass out. But not only from exhaustion, but also from pride – I actually survived an entire lesson of Crossfit. I have entered the magical threshold of the fitness universe, and I have promptly been infected with fitness mania. The only cure seems to be to sweat more, squat lower and suck it up, so one day, I won’t have to suck it in anymore.
Well, the regrets are coming today, that I couldn’t even put on my coat because I am sore as hell. And there we are with the devil again. But my abs and muscles, which are lying under a firm layer of winter fat, will thank me eventually.
And as long as I don’t forget to breathe, I can work it. Just push, squat and breathe.