The Open.

I've stared at the cursor for sometime now.

I have things I would like to say about The Open.

There's a chance you haven't a flying clue what The Open is.  If you were to give it a quick google search, you would be flooded with all things Crossfit.

I have never, (and my tune might be changing now), but until this point, I have never considered myself a competitive person.  I just have never cared about how I "rank".  In running, and I would include crossfit, as well, there are solid ways to measure your progress.  Singular.  Just you.  The Open is the way the organization allows everyone to see how they are doing in a competitive, but not intimidating setting.  You are able to see how you have improved from the past years.

I struggle with competition because the result is that one individual wins and another loses.  One is better than the other.  It's hard to lose.  It can be disheartening to learn that someone you've worked really hard to stay on par with, has broken away from your scores, or from your pace, during a race.  Sometimes your gas tank is empty, while theirs seems to be bottomless.  I get it.  I'm not the kind of person who gets worked up over these things, though, so you want to play monopoly with me!  I will be so happy when you win!  Seriously!

What I love best about Crossfit, is that, unless your last name ends in -Dottir, then you're not reeeeeally in the competition.  And what I mean by that, is, that you're not going to win.  This is cool.  This is completely and utterly acceptable for those of us who will never qualify for regionals or compete at THE Crossfit Games.  We have our heroes, and athletes we look up to and get excited to watch on tv, but in the meantime, we'll just be over here, at our gyms, being fitter than the general public and cheering each other on with a fever and intensity that only the Crossfit community knows.

This has been my first year competing.  I go to the gym a lot.  Like, a lot.  I truly love it there.  It is my one hour for myself, for my physical health and most importantly, for my mental health.  I have had two coaches in my life, who have both recently mentioned that I am athlete, and that I should start treating myself as one.  I have never considered myself an athlete.  I am super proud to consider myself a fit person, but in my mind, the title athlete is reserved for the especially fit.  Those dedicated folks who put in deliberate work and eat for performance and take fitness very seriously, and, well, actually, that is me.  And I am, in fact, an athlete.

When I was prepping and doing the Open workouts, I liked to do them as soon as I could, and I preferred to do them alone, or with just a handful of people.  I would read the workout, go over the movement standard to make sure I understood, and then I would do a bit of visualization.  For every single workout I do - running, crossfit, cycling, swimming, whatever, I have a gameplan.  I typically set mini goals, within the workout, and then try to stick to the plan.  I always show up and give everything I have, for that one hour.  I want to leave every effort I have at the gym.  I don't want to leave thinking I could have done better.  When all you have is one hour to commit to your health, quality is number one, because the quantity is set.  There is no do-over.

One of the first workouts I did, coach Brad was my judge.   He said to do just do my best, and I said, like I always do.  The Open workouts were no different from any class I attend, except that I had a judge.  The proof that I don't cheat myself, is in the scores I produced.  And the only person that really matters to, is me.

See, the truth is, I've been training my whole life.  For many years, it was for running races, but for the past 5 years, it's been for Crossfit.  I have been doing the work and making progress and earning the muscle I have.  It's hard.  Sometimes I want to quit.  It's hard for all of us.  Training, and now competing, gives me a sense of confidence.  Like nothing else I've ever done in my life.  As someone who has had more self-doubt than anyone should have in a lifetime, this reassuring confidence is welcome.  It is time that I consider myself an athlete and it is overdue that I treat my body accordingly.

The Open is for everyone.  There is an option for every single person and this competition, like most, is you against you.  I will never win a competition, and this is fine.  I do real work and I reap real rewards and I am an athlete, nonetheless.