"Yesterday's erg was tough. Been a long time since I've flown in to the Danger Zone. Still learning. Going to make today better."
I knew immediately that I liked it, and I continued to think about it a long time. I have to admit I don't know what she was talking about, and I like it so much only because I know what I would have been talking about if it were my tweet.
I had been thinking about the Danger Zone [DZ] for years before Megan told me its rightful name. It's still easiest for me to access the DZ by trying a maximal squat or erging an all out time trial. Currently attempting to squat 400+ puts me in the DZ; I have to fully engage and give no thought to whether I rise from the hole or the spotters, one trusts, are quick enough to save me from being stapled to the platform. The erg, if anything, is worse. On a 500 meter piece I'm going to sit for upwards of 40 seconds not knowing if my heart will burst, my lungs will collapse, my legs will simply refuse to fire again, or if everything will just fade to black after a catastrophic systemic failure. By extension, the 2,000 is worst of all. I'll find the DZ as early as 800 meters in and stay there four minutes.
Note that the DZ is relative. Matt Wenning might find the DZ squatting 1100, and while I'll race Megan at 500 meters, her Olympian stature leaves me unembarrassed to admit she'll need to finish the 2k a half-minute or more before me to find the DZ.
And while I live for the DZ, I don't live in the DZ. I really should track this, but I estimate I go there no more than every six weeks or so.
I'm sure that if you go into the DZ and come out, you'll be transformed. Like me, and unlike Megan and Matt, you'll come out not knowing that you're the best in the world, but rather that you're better than you were six weeks ago. Your best, it turns out, is good enough.
The easiest way to get there is to compete, and that's why, yes, at some point - sooner than you would like - I'm going to push you into a competition.
Last Friday I did one knees-to-elbows to demonstrate for the on-ramp class at TwinFreaks CrossFit. As I expected, I was rewarded with searing pain from my left shoulder down to my mid-back, and I knew I was correct in deciding to forgo this year's CrossFit Open. My plan to maintain the bench press, push the squat and deadlift, and teach myself that erging fast is not impossible following the end of indoor rowing season was impeccable. I'm sure I can still do one pull-up, but I'm sure I don't want to.
So today when the guy I haven't seen for a year showed up, I told him he was going to do CrossFit Open workout 12-1, seven minutes of burpees.
And I knew that standing there watching him do it was inexcusably weak, so I signed myself up.
It's hard or impossible to watch someone from the outside and know when they're in the DZ. Sometimes getting to the DZ is as easy as sitting in front of the computer Wednesday at 6pm local time betting that CrossFit HQ can't serve up an Open workout where it's impossible to score one.
One is also a score, and it's enough sometimes to find the power of the DZ.
Loved this!
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