Admittedly, I’ve been a bit of a slacker lately. And maybe a little too hard on myself. Last spring I was diligent and dutiful about my diet (then vegan), about getting my lazy butt to the gym (or the yoga studio, or the tennis court), and about celebrating little victories.
Incremental gains were easy to celebrate then because everything was new; learning to kip, running a timed 5k, tree pose with my eyes closed, hoisting more than half my bodyweight directly over my head and having the confidence to trust that I wouldn’t drop it on myself. Ah, those were the days.
Now that I’ve been at CrossFit for more than a year, I find myself, more and more, comparing my weights, my times, and my dedication to those around me, as though I’ve crossed some sort of chronological threshold which requires (or implies) a perfection of skill akin to the women who currently top the leaderboard of the CrossFit Open. But this is simply not true. There is much more to learn and not a single person in my life expects perfection.
So, to prove to myself that I don’t expect perfection either, I decided to participate in the Open. I wanted to set a personal benchmark. Rather than trying to do better than other competitors this year, I’ll be able to try and do better than myself--next year…and celebrate the strength that comes with another year’s practice.
How did 12.1 go? Well, the result is less important than the 6-rep improvement I squeezed out in my second attempt. A little victory, but a victory nonetheless.
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