Sometimes, it's hard for me to remember the times before I started my fitness journey clearly. A lot of it is a blur my mind has purposely blocked out.

Those were definitely rough times for me. I remember the good parts; whether it was my now-ex, the friends I had, the cool fall days of Connecticut, the cups of Dunkin... 

It was probably the fourth or fifth attempt when I began my fitness journey. Every other attempt failed, which is how I was, over four hundred pounds, miserable and feeling like a failure. It wasn't that I didn't try, but rather more that I tried and never really got the point. I lost some weight, which was good, but I never really stuck with it.

When I began in 2016, I fell in love with working out for the first time in my life. It was just this thing that was "fun"; it was never fun before, it always worked. This was actually enjoyable. I found myself squatting, deadlifting, doing functional fitness, and just looking forward to each day's workout. I was lifting heavier and heavier and realizing I could be stronger than I ever thought I could be. I was training like a powerlifter, so I adopted that identity. "Powerlifter."

After I moved from Connecticut, I found myself directionless. I worked with a couple of good trainers who were astute people, but we didn't have that same "fun" I had previously. It was good, I was doing familiar things, but it wasn't the same. I got bored. This time, however, instead of just giving up like I had when I got bored previously, I tried something different and went to F45.

It was definitely a different experience. I gave it my all, and there was this competitive aspect. In the end, I found some things outside my wheelhouse too challenging. This was exasperated because there was no real coaching. After all, there was one coach for 27 people in a class. And it wasn't challenging enough on strength days when we were deadlifting mini bars maxed out to 150 pounds.

That's when I tried a more traditional CrossFit place. I was doing 1x1 sessions there in addition to classes when I started, learning to do Olympic lifting. I loved it. I once again was starting to enjoy fitness again. Then the pandemic happened, and everything shut down. Like most people, I did at-home stuff, stayed busy, and gained weight. 

When I finally got back into the gym, I enjoyed it again. We were doing all these new things I had never done before. When 2021 came around, my interest started to ebb and flow. It was good workouts, but I never could find my groove to keep things moving consistently. Sure, I did the workouts, but I would say I probably didn't give them my all every time. I also felt directionless at times.

Recently this all came to a head when I started thinking about what I wanted to do and rethinking my fitness journey. I went around and around, asking for more volume or something different. I just couldn't figure out what it was that I needed.

It wasn't until a conversation with my coach that I walked away frustrated and confused about what happened that things started falling into place. Trying to make sense of it all, I sat down and started journaling again for the first time in quite some time. I just let a steady stream of consciousness come out, and the end result was a personal epiphany.

I knew what I wanted to do at the end of the day.

I was afraid I couldn't do it. I was worried I was too old. I was concerned people would laugh at me for wanting it. 

The biggest thing, though, was that I was afraid of losing identity. For so long since I began this fitness journey, I identified myself as a powerlifter. I might have been 38 when this started, but I'm a toddler in terms of fitness years. I had built this identity that was a deviation from "Old Benjamin." I created this line between "Old Benajmin" and "New Ben" when my life began to change, and I was afraid of losing "New Ben" if I shifted. 

I realized I wasn't losing myself. I was moving to the next phase. I was embracing what I enjoyed. It was additive, not a replacement. Sure, I was doing this new thing now, but being a "powerlifter" identity will always be a part of me. It's just that now things are shifting, and my identity shifts along with it.

So, in the end, I'm still me. This time, however, I decided to own what I wanted. To embrace it. Being boldfaced and daring, I pushed forward and told my coach, "this is what I want." No hemming, no hawing, no waiting for someone else to make a decision for me. It's my decision, and I'm going to own it. I'm tired of "working out." I want to "train." 

So here I am, Ben the CrossFitter. The dude with a plan. A big plan. A scary plan. I'm a dude shifting his life towards what he wants to achieve. Not just setting out on a couple of months' worth of goals, but thinking about the long term. I am thinking about where I will be in one, two, and three years. I'm still Ben... "New Ben"... It's more like Ben 3.0... and like Microsoft products, version is when stuff starts to get really good. 

Let's. Fucking. Go.