The other day I went to Crossfit. I’m still going. I haven’t quite kept up with twice a week, but I go on a regular kind of basis. And, in order to fit it into my schedule, I go to the 5:30am class. I can’t think of the last time I went to one later in the day.

There was a fairly typical turnout of five athletes that morning, and the coach was one that I hadn’t met before. He introduced himself when I arrived, and introduced himself to another woman who I knew, but he didn’t.

The six of us were milling around near the board where the workouts are written as we waited for it to be time to start. And, I forget what precipitated the remark, but the woman said something about being weak. And I smiled in agreement, because I knew that both she and I lifted weights that are, to put it kindly, less than impressive.

I mean, I can’t even squat my body weight. Which I feel like I should be able to do. Or at least that that would be a strong thing to do.

But the coach’s reply to the claim of weakness was, “No one up at 5 in the morning is weak. Especially when they’ve come to the gym to work out.”

Which might not be an exact quote. Because that statement happened before I busted my ass doing the workout. But it’s close.

It’s a good reminder for me that strength isn’t entirely about how much weight you can lift.

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