Different.

Earlier this year I competed for the 3rd time in an all women’s individual CrossFit competition hosted by CrossFit Exclamation in Burlington, MA, called “Muscles and Mascara” (two of my favorite things).  

I always look forward to this event. It’s a great way to start the year. There’s something so powerful about a gym filled with women of all ages and abilities putting themselves out there, pushing each other physically and emotionally, supporting each other whole-heartedly.  The energy fills my soul.  I admire every woman there because competing is vulnerable. 

For past CrossFit competitions I would train as normal, and just see where I landed amongst my peers.  My goal would be just to compete - to be in the same arena with women who dare greatly.  While this is a respectable goal, I now realize this mindset was what brought me a lot of anxiety. I would stress leading up to the event, and all that day until it was over.  I thought facing that fear was my biggest accomplishment.  In reality, creating that fear was my biggest mistake.  

This year I entered the 50+ division.  Aging up, in theory, could give me a slight advantage over others who may be in their upper 50s, 60s or beyond, so I thought if there were ever a year to really go for it, this was it. 

I wanted to win.  

I wasn’t afraid, or too polite to admit it. I was focused. I told my family my objective. I trained with intention.  I ate more.  I didn’t drink alcohol.  I strategized and practiced the workouts that were released ahead of time, and repeatedly visualized each workout - and winning - every night in bed.  I hadn’t wanted something so openly, or prepared like this, since my Haymakers fight.  

The day came and I felt great.  I went with other women from my gym, who, through this experience, have become good friends (the best part of all this).  

 

There were 10 badass 50+ women in my RX (highest level) division.  I won event 1, came in 2nd in event 2, and 3rd in the floater (the surprise workout).  Going into the final event (my weakest) I was in 2nd place.  

In the past I might’ve thought 2nd place was pretty good, but this year it wasn’t.  It got me fired up. I was giddy it came down to this.  I was so thankful it was hard and I had an opportunity to fight. 

I locked in.  I took a quiet moment and asked God to be with me during the workout - not to make me win - but to keep me calm and relentless. 

My quads were killing me.  I was emotionally exhausted from competing all day,  but I was ready.  As others were warming up, I deliberately chose to relax and visualize how I wanted this to feel.  This was a very different experience from the nervous energy I normally would have had.  

It was a 7 minute workout of rowing and thrusters (#55).  Starting with 3 calories and 3 thrusters you just keep adding 3 and get as high as you can in 7 minutes.  I am not powerful on the rower and I absolutely hate thrusters.  I was going to have to dig really deep to pull this off.  This was going to hurt, but I was committed.  

They called my heat.  I entered box 5 and greeted Coach Nick, who had judged me all day.  He seemed to know this last workout was important for me.  He gave me instructions, then it was go-time.  I tried to maximize my power, yet remain composed with each stroke of the rower, and I suffered through each thruster, my legs burning and begging me to stop.  

With 30 seconds left I had a couple of thrusters remaining to finish the round of 15, and I just wanted to complete that, but my judge, Nick, told me to hurry up and get back on the rower - “one calorie will make a big difference”, so I did.  I pushed myself beyond where I wanted to go and ran to the rower and pulled as hard and fast as I possibly could and in the last seconds managed to get 1 calorie, hoping it was enough.  

It was. I won my weakest event, solidifying a 1st place finish.  

 

I was so relieved to be done.  The actual winning wasn’t as exciting as I thought it would be.  I had visualized it so many times that I had expected it, but if I had come in 2nd, or 6th, or 10th I would have enjoyed my post-comp burger just the same because I gave it my all - in preparation and in competition.  

The real win for me was that competing felt fun this year, like a celebration of my preparation.  I was performing. This is the edge. The training has to be harder than the fight and you have to have the confidence that you did everything to be ready for the moment.  This type of preparation is what brings you peace and makes you hungry.  

 

Basketball Coach Pat Summit said it perfectly:

“Winning is fun, sure.  But winning is not the point.  Wanting to win is the point.  Not giving up is the point.  Never letting up is the point.  Never being satisfied with what you’ve done is the point.”

And I think this is how you stay young.  #50AF