About a week after I started grappling with the guys at CrossFit, I showed BFF Teri my newest clothing purchase.
(A quick explanation: according to The Girl Rule, when making a purchase or changing your hairstyle, you must notify your best friend within 24 hours. Your best friend must also be the first person to learn about such monumental changes. If you run into a mutual acquaintance at the hairdressers, it is socially acceptable to say something like, “Don’t tell Teri you ran into me, I haven’t told her I was getting my hair cut, yet.”)
I reached into the Kirhofer Sports bag and removed a pair of shorts.
“They’re kind of big, aren’t they?”
“Well…the girls at the gym wear smaller ones,” I admitted. “But the guys I spar with wear big shorts like this. And I just thought…” I let the words trail off because Teri was smirking at me. “What?”
“Awww, you want to be one of the guys,” she gushed. Her tone of voice was exactly the same as if she had discovered the Daily Puppy gadget on my iGoogle page.
“Dude, uncool,” I said softly.
“What? It’s cute!”
* * *
Fast forward to last week. I was doing some light stretching and staring off into space, while the guys got ready. The spaciness wasn’t because I was thinking about what we were going to do or trying to get “into the zone” or whatever the hell it was athletes thought about before working out. It was because, at some point, the guys decided (collectively) that it was OK to change in front of me. I don’t mean like, changing their shirts. I mean, down to the skivvies.
I thought watching them change might be a little rude. (Maybe even kind of creepy.) So, I took up daydreaming while they guys did their thing.
Bob, came ambling up the steps. “You see, Stacy, out of respect for you, I change downstairs.”
I shrugged one shoulder to show my indifference, when Craig called out, “Hey, the cups are going on the outside of the underwear!”
Mentally, I grimaced. But, I’m proud to say, after three years of involvement in the fighting arts, I finally stopped asking “cup of what?”
For some reason, I decided that was the perfect time to share with them that I started wearing boxer shorts to tournaments. “Now, I just change right out on the floor, instead of running to the bathroom. Teri said she’s embarrassed on my behalf. But I figured if you guys have no trouble changing here, why being seen in boxers bother me?”
Then, the other guys started teasing Bob, who steadfastly defended his right not to be seen in his “manties.” It seemed strange that, in this case, I wasn’t the odd man out. It was Bob for thinking that there was anything unacceptable about changing with everyone else. Then, I realized something.
Awww, I’m one of the guys.
