Guest post by Kevin Thomas McCarthy, Rhapsody CrossFit Member
As an avid runner and self-proclaimed athlete, I’ve belonged to many gyms across the Midwest. I’ve also never been opposed to trying all the latest fad workouts and diets at least once. So, a couple of years ago, when everyone in Des Moines was talking about this terrifying workout program run by drill sergeants called CrossFit, I wanted to know more. I always thought I would have done well in the military: I like being told what to do and frankly who doesn’t love a guy in uniform. Also, a box had just opened down the street from my house, so I took a chance on CrossFit.
Fast forward to August of last year, when I knew that Charleston was going to become my forever home. By then, I knew that CrossFit was the program that without question, worked best for me. So I started to look for a new box in my new home. Thankfully, at the same time, I was lucky to discover that the owners of Rhapsody CrossFit had also selected Charleston as their new home and the gym was opening just in time for my arrival.
My boyfriend told me that owners of Rhapsody, Alan and Trinity, were a couple and also former Broadway actors. While we had not met them yet, I thought this news was pretty exciting. I knew that with Alan and Trinity building the community that is Rhapsody, the chances that the people who worked out there would share the values of acceptance and inclusiveness that are very important to me increased. And, even though nothing explicitly said so in any of the marketing materials, I also secretly hoped that the two Broadway alums might incorporate some synchronized choreography into my tried and true workouts.
So I did my free class. Alan and Trinity seemed great. The workout was tough, but doable. The box was a short drive from my house and I could even run there if I felt like it. All the dots were connecting, and Rhapsody was shaping up to be a good fit. But honestly, I was still kind of scared to commit. And that fear, I learned, was still rooted in Iowa.
Rooted In Iowa
On my thirty-second birthday, I sat at dinner with my close-knit group of guy friends at one of my favorite Downtown Des Moines restaurants, and I offered a toast to the decade, “to my thirties,” I said. “I’m in better shape, I make more money and I have better friends!” Shortly after my thirty-fourth, I stood on a scale at the doctor’s office. I’d put on thirty pounds. My knees hurt and I couldn’t run. My blood pressure was through the roof. My marriage was failing. I quit my job. My closest friends were suddenly unavailable. My Mom had died, and I wondered if my family would ever recover after the woman who loved us and called us and kept us all coming together wasn’t around to remind us of birthdays, or host Christmas or pick up the phone and ask about our days. How did this happen – this steady decay of everything? And when? I didn’t know. But it had. The nurse told me I could start taking blood pressure and cholesterol medication or exercise more. The weight, I thought, was something I could control, even if everything else was up in the air, if I could get those numbers – those measurable numbers – down and healthy, then I could maybe deal with the rest.
So I went to the CrossFit gym down the street from my house. They told me what to do and I did it. I said I would be back. And the next day, I got out of bed and I went back. And then I did it again on the third day, and the third week, and the third month.
In the mornings, I’d sign in and then I’d say hi to Marco and Diana. Diana would ask me where I was if I missed a class earlier in the week. Greg and Suzie were also there, and Greg was always up for healthy competition in our partner WODs. When I was able to run again, Riley and I did a 5K. Some days I would just go and work out and leave. Some days, I would stretch afterwards and talk about weekend plans or the weather – mostly the extreme heat or bitter cold that Iowa is known for. Travis would bring his son on occasion, so I learned all about Paw Patrol, a cartoon police force made up entirely of, you guessed it, puppies. It was fascinating.
One day a new coach was hired, and when I met Adrian, we discovered that we were both from the same hometown. I remembered taking Tae Kwon Do classes with him – he, at twelve, earning his fifth star on his black belt, and me at fourteen, trying to figure out how get out of taking Tae Kwon Do classes. His presence at the gym stirred up welcome nostalgia of a time when life was different. Younger and easier, I guess. When my family was still complete. But also, he offered an encouraging reminder that things can get better, even amid change and loss.
On my last day at the box in Des Moines, I reluctantly said goodbye to Coaches Michael and Tom. To Dave who was learning to swim with me, and to Tracy who had moved into her condo at the same time I moved out of my house.
Across The Country
My gym in Iowa helped me lose the thirty pounds I put on, and take 28 minutes off of my marathon time. The place and the people there had become an important part of my journey to better physical health. But it wasn’t until I was leaving, and about to sign up for a new gym across the country, that I really understood the impact that place had on my mental health and well being. How the routine and the support that was built-in made up for what I lacked at home, or what I was unable to provide for myself. How the accountability of simply showing up because I said I would spilled over into all other aspects of my life, including my new job and relationships. My life was better because of my CrossFit gym, and I was scared that I might not be able to replicate that at a box in Charleston. Terrified, really. “I just realized what I had and now I’m going to lose it,” I anxiously thought. “And then what? Do I fail? Do I go backwards…”. But there was so much that was right about Charleston and the people and opportunity here, that I had to trust myself, take a risk, and at least try.
So, I pulled into Charleston and unloaded the moving truck. I went to Rhapsody. They told me what to do and I did it. I said I would be back. Some days, I go to the gym, work out and leave. Some days, I hang out afterwards to stretch and talk about weekend plans. The other Monday following the Sunday birthday celebration of a mutual friend, Moe and I pushed each other through an 800 meter run and fifty burpees. Lance’s dog Sophie now recognizes me when I see her at the nine o’clock class. I can count on Chris when I need some friendly competition. Maysa’s helping me heal an injury. Susan shared her thoughts on areas where Sam and I could buy a house. We both got excited about possibly being neighbors someday. Stan always makes me do the RX workout and I’m always glad I do. And for the last six months, Alan and Trinity’s friendship, and the communal support and encouragement I receive – and hopefully give back – every time I walk through the door at Rhapsody, is the welcome routine I need to stay good and to get even better. Still no synchronized choreography, but a guy can dream, can’t he?
We are working on the choreography. To meet Kevin and our awesome Rhapsody community, sign up for your first class today!
