CrossFit
Prayer
By
Anela Wenger
Now
I lay me down to CrossFit,
I
pray the Lord I just won’t quit.
If
I should fail to get a PR,
I
pray at least to lift the bar,
And
thrust and jerk and clean and press,
And
kettle bell swing ‘til I’m a mess.
Then
jump up on a 20” box,
Show
off my knee-high Rx socks.
And
do a snatch or two at least,
Hear
my coach yell “you’re a BEAST!”
Now
80 wall balls, squats, pull-ups,
Clock
is ticking—time’s almost up.
Let’s
do a TABATA, some double-unders,
Who
made this workout—Satan? I wonder.
I
think it just can’t get any more “fun,”
Then
Coach says, “rest” on a half-mile run.
My
legs are Jell-O, my arms are on fire,
Could
the step onto the curb be any higher?
My
body wants to take a nap,
But
I just want to finish this AMRAP!
At
last, there’s a beep; it’s over now,
I’m
still alive—but not sure how.
Collapsed
onto a stinky mat,
I
leave some sweat marks where I sat.
Now,
awful as that hour was,
My
brain gets warped and full of fuzz.
For
with the “good nights” and “later, bro,”
I
suddenly shout out, “See you tomorrow!”
Now
I lay me down to WOD,
And
pray it doesn’t kill my bod.
If
I should die before I wake,
That’s
one less rep I’ll have to make.
