A LOVE LETTER TO DKF

Dear Dutchkills Family,

I have spent the better part of my adult years working alongside you, watching you come into the box as fresh little lambs, leave feeling a multitude of things (fear, addiction, pain, nausea, excitement, love, giddiness…), and I’ve smiled to myself after every class, because I know exactly how you feel. I’ve been there countless times before, alone, alongside you, above you, beneath you, right next to you, holding you, I’ve felt it all. In these ten years, I’ve changed a lot. So many of you reflect back on when Mead was the battleaxe; she was nasty, tough, a ballbuster. She didn’t give a f**k where you came from or how bad your day had been, you were gonna follow her rules or hit the road. Even more of you can’t hardly believe what I’m typing. Sure, Mead is grumpy some days, but for the most part she just loves trivia and bad jokes and keeping us in line (as much as you can herd cats, ya know?)

I’ve watched so many of you do so many incredible things in the last ten years. I’ve watched you hit major milestones in the Crossfit World. I’ve watched you chip away at lifts until they’re perfect and you hit the dream PR, and proudly slap your back and tell you to come back tomorrow and do more. I’ve seen so many first ring MUPs, I’ve helped countless of you get your double under groove back. I’ve worked on so many bad backs and terrible squat forms. I’ve helped modify the shit out of workouts when your body is so broken, beaten and bruised there’s nothing left to do but ride the bike or go home.

But I’ve also seen so many of you fall in love with your person. I’ve seen you start your family. I’ve seen you get your dream job, or lose your dream job. I’ve seen you cry when someone close to you passed on. I’ve hugged you, held you and cherished you, because you’re my family.

I came to New York City broken, and you all built me up. You may not know that, but without you, I would be dead. You all gave this lost and hopeless girl a reason to wake up and get out of bed every day, and you’ve continued to do that for ten years. You all giggled and laughed knowingly every morning Henry brought me coffee, and rolled your eyes when we finally started dating. You all screamed with joy when we got engaged. You came to our wedding, you made it the party of a lifetime. You’ve held me together through three pregnancies now. You’ve cheered me on through so many hard moments. You’re honest with me, and I’m honest with you. And saying goodbye to you is one of the hardest things I will ever do.

I could not have been more blessed by a community of people. Thank you for everything.