Reflections Of A Five Year Old: Hilary Achauer - A Fitness Autobigraphy
It was June 2010. While my kids were in preschool, I worked from home, editing terribly-written novels and memoirs. I wanted to write, not edit, but so far the only writing jobs I could find paid me in trade, mostly at the Broken Yolk. There are only so many fried eggs a person can eat.
I noticed immediately when CrossFit PB (now San Diego Athletics) opened. I’d drive down Fanuel, on my way to Trader Joe’s, trying to get a glimpse through the window. I’d heard of CrossFit, and I was equally intrigued and terrified by what I’d read.
Sometimes, when I was hurrying my two-year-old and five-year-old across the alley into the Trader Joe’s, I’d see a group of sweaty, miserable-looking people run by, in the midst of their 400-meter run.
I knew where they came from, and I wanted to try it.
It was June 2010. While my kids were in preschool, I worked from home, editing terribly-written novels and memoirs. I wanted to write, not edit, but so far the only writing jobs I could find paid me in trade, mostly at the Broken Yolk. There are only so many fried eggs a person can eat.
I had been descending into the basement of 24-Hour Fitness for two years, attending repetitive group exercise classes, never seeing much in the way of results and never exchanging a word with anyone in the gym.
For a month I drove by CrossFit PB, trying to convince myself to enter. I worried it would be too difficult, too expensive. But finally, my curiosity overcame me, and on the first Thursday in July I walked in the gym for the noon class and was greeted by a very enthusiastic person who struck me as being very East Coast and very intense.
As Anders told me all about the gym and CrossFit and how awesome both of those things were, all I could think was, “Where are all the people?” I was the only person who showed up for the noon class that day. Instead of hiding in the back of the class I was going to have a one-on-one session.
My first workout was a massively scaled Fran with an empty barbell and assisted pull-ups. It was hideously painful, and I left being not quite sure exactly what I had just experienced.
“Would it just be me and this guy, every day at noon?” I thought.
I figured more people had to show up eventually, so I decided to try it out.
For the next month I arrived at the noon class to the smell of ground beef cooking on a George Foreman grill. Anders would emerge from the office in the back, where he was busy avoiding doing any work for his full-time job. Sometimes, he’d be in the middle of a conference call, and he’d hit the mute button and stay on the call during the class, checking in while simultaneously teaching me and a few other people the basics of Olympic weightlifting.
Hilary and Erica Rozetti at the CrossFit Games
One day, in that first month, I was heading out the door after class and Anders yelled at me, “Hey, do you know what the CrossFit Games are?”
I told him I didn’t.
“Go look it up when you get home. You’re going to be there next year.”
I took him completely seriously and went home and watched footage of Kristan Clever competing at the 2010 Games, doing muscle-ups and throwing a sandbag over a wall. I had a mini panic attack.
“Why does he think I can do this? Is he going to make me do this?” I thought.
I came in the next day and earnestly told Anders I wasn’t sure I really was quite ready to compete at the CrossFit Games. He was kind enough not to say, “Yeah, I know. I just like to exaggerate.”
For the first few months I hardly ever saw Bryan, because he was reporting to an office each day. Then Bryan and Anders both quit their jobs, and this person who seemed the exact opposite of Anders would carefully and seriously teach me how to handle a barbell.
It was a completely different experience getting coached by Bryan. Most of the time, my attempts were met with a sad look, and a patient explanation of what I was doing wrong. When I finally got a “that’s good!” from him it was thrilling, because I knew he didn’t give praise lightly.
Since that first week in July I don’t think I’ve gone more than two weeks without setting foot in the gym, whether it was at Garnet, Cass, or Garnet again. After five years of countless sweat- and pain-filled hours, I’ve gotten to know these two guys, who are smart and kind and full of ambition and imagination.
Even though I’m ten years older than both of them, I’m immersed in the lives of my elementary school age kids, and I spent most of my life more as a bookworm than a gym rat, I count Bryan and Anders as close friends. More than that—they feel like part of our family. The friendship between the two of them is one of the most impressive relationships I’ve seen. Even through the stresses of running a business for five years, they remain both successful business partners and good friends.
My work has changed over the last five years, too. I’m no longer editing terrible memoirs. I’m getting paid—actual money—to write about health and fitness. My primary client is CrossFit. It was Anders who first told me about the CrossFit Journal, a few months after I joined CrossFit PB.
I decided to submit an article to the Journal about his crazy idea to run a half marathon with just CrossFit as his training. The CrossFit Journal bought the article, and asked me to write more. Next, I wrote about Matt Lodin using the Open as part of his recovery for knee surgery.
In May of 2011 CrossFit asked me to write about the 2011 SoCal Regional competition. Two months later I was in Los Angeles at the 2011 CrossFit Games.
I wasn’t on the competition floor, but in the media room, getting paid to write about the CrossFit Games.
That crazy prediction Anders made in 2010 was right.
I was there, at the Games, just like he said.
Happy five years, guys. Thanks for everything.
