Neil Williams

  • CrossFit Level 1 Trainer
  • NCSF Personal Trainer

Favorite WOD: Fran
Favorite Movement: Back Squats
Favorite Treat: Dr. Pepper

DAWN WAS COMING. The Crossfit 307 box lay in silence, and it was a silence of three parts.

The most obvious part was a vast, echoing quiet made by things that were lacking. If there had been athletes, weights would have pounded upon the floor. Grunts of exhaustion would have pushed out the silence like a prowler. If there had been a class filling the room it would have it would have rumbled and worked the silence out like a day old set of DOMS. If there had been music… but no, of course there was no music. In fact there were none of these things, and so the silence remained.

Inside the 307 box a man quietly arranged various pieces of equipment around himself. Smoothly sliding weights onto a bar, rolling a row erg into place, adjusting the height of the rings. Every movement making the lightest of noises. In doing this he added his own small, furtive silence to the larger echoing one. They made an amalgam of sorts, a counterpoint.

The third silence was not an easy thing to notice. If you listened long enough you might begin to feel it in the rubber matted floor underfoot and in the worn, smooth leather wall balls on the rack. It was in the weight of the black plates that held the force of a long held drop. It was in the slow back and forth swing of the wooden gymnastic rings. And it was in the limbs of the man who stood there, chalking the bar that already glowed white in the low light.

The man had dark brown hair, dark as rich soil. His eyes were dark and distant, and he moved with a subtle certainty that comes from knowing many things. The space was his, just as the third silence was his. This was appropriate, as it was the greatest silence of the three, wrapping the other others inside itself. It was deep and wide as autumn’s ending. It was heavy as a great river-smooth stone. It was the patient, cut-flower sound of a man who is waiting to WOD.