In the Silence

Music is an integral part of CrossFit to me. Really, it's an integral part of life. In my world there is little that I do that doesn't have a soundtrack. The first thing I do when I wake up is turn on the radio... I have one in the bathroom. I listen to music on the way to work, while I'm working, on the way home, when I walk or drive to the gym, while I workout, while I make dinner. In college my best papers were written to music. I can't imagine not having music in my life.

Of the 10 or so CrossFit gyms I've been to, there hasn't been a single one that didn't involve a 3,2,1...blaring music!! It's as much a part of CrossFit as barbells and wallballs. Just like I can't imagine driving to work in silence, I can't fathom being pumped up to get through a workout with nothing to drown out the voice that makes me doubt myself and begs me to quit.

But there's something to be said for silence. Amazing moments happen in the quietest parts of life. 

Every so often there exists a fleeting moment in the silence created between songs when you can hear the gym. An instant in which the thumping of the bass ringing in your ears is replaced by the pulse of your own heartbeat.

In that void, when all you can hear is the clang of a barbell and the rattle of the plates or even just the off-beat, rhythmless, labored breathing of the 11 other people swinging kettlebells in line next to you... I remember why I love CrossFit so much. 

The sound of the gym that fills those gaps is born of hard work. The clangs, and slaps, and grunts, and gasps for air. Every barbell that hits the ground is one that someone picked up. Every woosh of the wheel on a rower signifys someone getting a few meters closer to a goal. 

It may sound dorky, but I think it's really cool to be a part of that silence. It's why I liked being in band - that feeling of being part of a bigger whole. Knowing that the notes I played were just as important as the notes someone else was playing. (Especially since the instrument I played rarely got the melody, but I digress.)

When all I can hear in the silence is 12 separate people gasping for air, it doesn't matter that I'm swinging around 10lbs and the guy next to me is swinging 70. The point is that we're ALL breathing hard, all working hard, even if we're not doing the exact same thing.

In that moment, the emptiness and the silence of life doesn't seem so bad. In that kind of silence I don't feel alone. The sound we make together in the silence is as loud as whatever heavy metal or rap song is next on the playlist. And, if I really think about it, maybe that's all I need to drown out the doubt.

Photo Credit: http://www.flickr.com/photos/esm723/ / CC BY-NC-SA 2.0