Wednesday, November 28, 2012

Oh Crap! Realization of the Day ... the Affair

So … my husband is having an affair. I’ve known about it for about 6 months now, but this is the first time I am speaking openly about it. I know the mistress … well, I know of her. I call one of our friends in Alexandria her pimp. She is pretty appealing--I’ll give that to him. I’ve even considered joining them! Hey, I have to have a sense of humor about it, right?

She clearly gives him things I cannot. He has never looked better. He is happy. He’s 41, so I guess I’ll just chalk it up to a mid-life crisis. He has even introduced the kids to her. They seem to like her.

I guess I shouldn’t complain too much. He still carries his weight at home. He spends a lot of time watching videos of her that she posts on some obnoxious Facebook page she has. And, she is even storing some of her things in our garage. Uh, okay, I don’t even get to part my car in there! He mostly sees her really early in the morning, so it doesn’t interfere with our lives too much. Every once in a while he sees her after work, and has invited some guys from work to join them.

Wricka-Wricka … (That was my record scratch). Okay, it just got weird. I may as well reveal to you that his mistress is … CrossFit.

I apologize to friends and family. I hope I didn’t give anyone a heart attack.

Here is the definition my husband gave me: CrossFit describes its strength and conditioning program as “constantly varied, high intensity, functional movement," with the stated goal of improving fitness (and therefore general physical preparedness), which it defines as "work capacity across broad time and modal domains."

That all sounds reasonable and completely harmless. But, from what I am starting to understand—not just about my husband, but about the whole “CrossFit Community”—is that it is somewhat of an obsession. Some outsiders have referred to it as a cult. Yea, I could see it. I am advised to call it his “passion.” And, our friend in Alexandria, VA, is the CrossFit coach who opened his eyes to it, so if anyone from Northern Virginia is looking to do this or see less of their spouse, I’ll hook you up.

And, yes, my 4-year-old twins can be seen doing planks and lifting a PVC pipe. And, yes, I have a large wooden box covered in shoe prints in my garage, a pull-up bar permanently affixed to the wall, a couple of those ever-loving kettlebells, and several other items that “hardly take any space.” And, yes, sometimes unexpected guests show up in said garage to do something called the WOD (workout of the day), and to try and achieve a PR (personal record). Other times they will do their WOD at a “box,” the gym that houses these cults and their old-school exercises.

There is often talk among these CrossFitters of “Paleo,” as if he is some kind of cult leader.  Turns out, it’s a period of time, known as the Paleolithic era—during the time of the caveman. The Paleo Diet is based on what they call “clean eating.” It’s eating like the cavemen—mostly meat, fish, fruits, and vegetables. I’m not sure if they have to hunt and gather their own food and pull it back to their homes on a wagon with square wheels. Though, I’m sure if my husband had to hunt for his food, he would certainly lose a lot of weight. I’m not even sure if he knows where the grocery store is.

He talks endlessly about all of these things, as do other cult members. He uses all the buzzwords I’ve mentioned, and many more I’ve just stopped asking about. And, while this “passion” has slightly impacted our lives, this mid-life crisis could be much, much worse. And, yes, he looks amazing and he feels good about himself again … and, that is good for all of us. I hope the “CrossFit World” doesn’t take offense to any of this. I think what you are doing makes a lot of sense. Heck, if the boxes started offering child care, I might be right there with you.

So, this blog is for all you CrossFit widows out there. I feel your pain and I know you feel mine. And, all you CrossFitters out there, I hope you blow your WOD right out of the water today!

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