You can’t go home again, or can you

“Home is the place where, when you have to go there, They have to take you in.”
― Robert Frost

I had a dream last night that I was at home with my parents and we were all getting ready to go out to an important dinner as a family. The house was decorated with cherished family heirlooms; oak bookcases stacked with books, gold framed family photos, and colorful table cloths. Every room I entered seemed rich in texture and color. Except these were rooms in a house I did not know; decorated with furniture and fabrics I had never seen before. It was certainly not the house I grew up in. In the dream my parents were young and well dressed, moving lightly about the house. My mother was sharing her lavish wardrobe of silk dresses with me, bringing one after another to my bedroom door. It was all very loving and warm and festive and above all, happy. Except my parents have long ago passed away and the setting was a house I’ve never known, and it was a night together we never shared. Was I wishing? I don’t know. But when I woke up I was missing a home I’ve never known. Maybe they were just reminding me of a feeling yet to come. I hope so.

Today I PR’d my Squat Snatch, at least I think I did. Since I’ve dialed in my diet attempting to eat more protein and less fat, counting macros and all of that, things are starting to jive again. CrossFit is a form of home for me. The movements and the lingo are old friends, and while I’m not an expert at any of it, I am able to relax into the familiarity of it. I simply know what to do (sumo-deadlift-high-pull, no problem), and how to strategize (blitz out of the gate or pace yourself), and the right questions to ask (would you recommend touch and go or should we be dropping the bar between reps?). I like that I can go almost anywhere in the world and find this familiarity, even among perfect strangers.

WOD:

Weightlifting: Squat Snatch (In 10 minutes establish heavy single)