"My first push-up after a double mastectomy felt like snapping an ancient rubber band. The anticipation of resistance in my chest and arms, followed by an emptiness, a blank, an absence. For a moment I lay facedown on the bouncy black floor of the gym. I let out something between a laugh and a sob. And then I rolled over on to my back. After a moment or two, I realized it was the only way I could stand up."
"But something more than my breasts were missing. Yes, I know the stereotypes about CrossFit how people who do it are cultish meatheads and I guess that is why I tend to apologize when I tell people about my CrossFit habit, before I begin to evangelize. Because the truth is, unfortunately, CrossFit really did change my life after my mastectomy broke down my body in ways that I did not expect. I love CrossFit and I think everyone should try it! (I'm sorry.)"
Three months after a double mastectomy, a first push-up produced a sensation of snapping and emptiness, collapsing the narrator onto the gym floor and revealing physical weakness. The narrator returned to CrossFit and accomplished the goal of getting back to training, while recognizing that more than breasts had been lost. A lifelong non-athlete background and cultural stereotypes about CrossFit complicate the narrative, yet CrossFit became a transformative force that rebuilt the body and conveyed unexpected changes in strength, identity, and conviction after surgery.
Read at www.theguardian.com
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