Rips, tears, and callouses. Put any able body on a pull up bar for any amount of time, they’re all bound to happen at some point.
|Obviously not my hands.|
|Definitely my hands.|
I get it. My hands aren’t the prettiest. They sometimes make manicurists cry. They can be rough and some guys don’t like to hold them (good thing I’ve got my super great foam-roller boyfriend!). But they’re mine and I worked hard for them.
If you’ve read anything about my journey, you know that my biggest goal was to get an unassisted pull up. Mainly because that was the one thing that seemed wildly out of reach for me. How was I ever going to be able to lift my body weight and put my chin over a bar?!
I started with the biggest, thickest black band in the gym. Slowly but surely, the bands got smaller and smaller. Sometimes Andrew would get me a smaller band. Sometimes I would decide I was ready for a smaller one.
Every time my hands ripped or got more calloused, I would take a picture of it and post it. A lot of people thought it was gross. A lot of people offered to buy me gloves. Some people thought it was great. I was more excited than anything. Every photo documented my hard work, dedication, and commitment.
I know that not everyone gets it. Not everyone sees what I see when I look at my hands, but I know what it took to get them to look like that. Every callous, rip, and tear comes with the territory and got me off that big, black band and able to do pull ups by myself!
I’m just as proud of my hands as I am in the ways my body has changed because of CrossFit.
Sport of ugly hands? I can dig it.