Priorities

Recently, a good friend asked me
"If you could buy one skill (i.e., more strength, hspu, etc) in crossfit, what would it be?"

Man, was it tempting. I thought, I'd buy myself some more strength. Or more rowing ability. Or 10 hspu's. And then I realized, when it came down to it, I wouldn't buy a thing.

Because what is it worth if you haven't worked for it?
I have recently found myself frustrated with this new "quick fix" philosophy that I am seeing so prevalent in our community. As I delve further and further into crossfit, I am realizing one thing and one thing alone. It's about the process.

Is the end result really all that important?

Every one has a different answer to this question. But for me, my favorite moments have revolved around the struggle. Watching someone do something rx'ed and struggle through it, watching them try and try and try and finally get a rep, watching someone finish a workout despite being past the time cap because they refused to get beat. Those are the moments I remember. Rarely is it a time on the board.

The common ground between these athletes is their display of that rare mix of bravery and vulnerability, class and balls out determination, and heart. It is that heart, that drive for excellence, that bravery that serves as my inspiration.

I have devoted the last 4 months of my life to attacking one major weakness. Strength.
It has been really hard. Despite all of my work, I still have MORE work to do. The squats HURT. I don't get to do met con's which are fun and provide an endorphin rush. Sometimes, I am alone in a room with a bar. It's boring. And frustrating. And not to mention, each session takes 3 hours. 

But through this PROCESS, I have learned discipline. I have learned the meaning of perfection. I have learned about conquering fear. I come in every day and try my absolute best.  I have learned what correct looks like, and I am striving to get there.

And I have realized that there are no instant results. No quick fixes. No easy road. It takes effort, and courage, and trust, and a lot of sacrifice.

And quite honestly, I find it offensive when others come in there and don't show that same degree of effort.
I find it offensive that coaches would have to call someone out on doing fewer reps or "cheating." Obviously, this doesn't include scaling, but you get the drift. I find it offensive when someone comes into the strength asylum, and doesn't understand what being there means: the effort and the initiative to do things correctly.

It is not only our privilege, but also our opportunity and furthermore, our responsibility, to be the best versions of ourselves. The outcome doesn't much matter but the process by which we attain those outcomes sure does.

What joy is there in a victory that is not earned?

Scurred!!!!!!

On Friday, 11/11/11, I had the wonderful opportunity to do a hero WOD. Rudy and Elisabeth encouraged me to try, and with their gentle, kind, nudging, I decided to do it. Now, I hadn't done a metcon in 4 months and have been doing only strength training. Finally, I decided that Sergeant Coe (the hero WOD I did) experienced a ton more pain than I would during this WOD. So, I said let's do this thing.

I was SO SCARED to do it. WTF? I have no idea why but I was almost in tears prior to starting. Seriously, why did I feel so disjointed? Maybe it was the lack of mental preparation? The fear of the physical pain that was about to ensue? The fear of failure? The fear of jumping in with two really accomplished athletes?

Do you see a common theme? FEAR....
What an interesting emotion. It was almost paralyzing. Almost.
So I started the workout. 10 Rounds of 10 thrusters/10 Ring pushups. 31:03.
And to my absolute delight, the thrusters at 55#'s were light. I could actually do about 30 ring pushups to standards. After that I had to drop to my knees but tried to keep the form correct. I proceeded through 4 rounds unbroken with the thrusters. This was not a light weight for me before, so I was really happy.

I did get gassed really really easy. For the first time, the weight did not limit me, it was my lungs and pure muscle fatigue.  I know it's a crappy time, but to be quite honest, I knew I was going to suffer after not crossfitting for so long. So i took it slow and concentrated on form and doing every rep right.

What I realized was that all that fear, all that emotion was pretty stupid. I got through it. I mean really, what was so scary? I learned that things are never as scary/hard/bad as they first seem. I remember people telling me how awful a certain workout would be, or how hard medical school was. But when you break it down, nothing is really all that hard. Amazing, how is it that we forget this as we get more "experienced?"


Elisabeth and I talked after and she reminded me to "trust my training and work, and ride it out." What good advice. And then I saw this by Mark Twain:

"Courage is resistance to fear, mastery of fear, not the absence of fear."

No one exemplifies this more than our troops. I can't imagine the fear they must confront and conquer on a daily basis. I don't know that I would be brave enough. Thank you friends, for showing me the meaning of courage. 

Focus!

I need to restore my focus. I have found that for the last month, I have been distracted. I've been bringing my personal crap into the gym. That needs to stop. The gym, especially the strength area, really is a sacred space.

I love my crossfit friends. And I am so blessed to be part of a community that is really, truly like my family. Naturally I want to touch base and talk and connect. But last Sunday, there was just too much talking. Plain and simple.

When I look at the athletes I really really admire, like Elisabeth and Glenn, they approach their training like I approach surgery. As I am prepping and draping and the minutes before I do an operation, I am thinking, planning, and preparing for every possible scenario. Most of the time, too much talking really bothers me because I am so focussed.

The amount of focus that these two have while they work is written all over their faces. Heck, I'm not even really allowed to talk to Glenn while he's lifting except for a quick kiss hello. They are preparing, planning, and thinking about the task at hand. They are all there. Mind, body, spirit and heart.

I used to think I am "all there." But actually, I wonder what would happen if I shut up and lift. Leave all that other crap outside. Focus on the task at hand. Talk to people when I'm done. And just shut up and lift.