CrossFit Open

Two workouts down (a sneaky 3^rd, but we won’t talk about that Dave Castro). One to go.

Did you do them? Get your scores in? Check your position on the leader board?

This is the phenomenon of the open – conversations, the predictions, the commiserations, the celebrations. It is the reason I and others push for everyone to get involved. It is a shared experience. A point of connection. A coming together under interesting and unique circumstance. A shared struggle. A shared triumph.

Successful gyms, and successful organisations in general are built and thrive on the back of this connection and community, and its so so powerful. Companies spend untold amounts of money trying to manufacture the sense of camaraderie that comes from sharing a really tough 14-20mins of pain.

So why is it so fucking hard sometimes to show up, to try.

It’s the score. It’s the visibility. It’s the accountability for our result. It’s the thought that people are judging us and weighing our worth on the back of our 1RM thruster or our ability to do toes to bar (bonus points for guessing where my workouts have been…..lacking!). It is the visibility to ourselves and the person we think we are.

Why are we afraid of putting in a score? For our name to be visible on a leader board? To be ranked?

I think it speaks to a deeper fear. A fear of being vulnerable.

Last week I went on camp with the yr 12s from my school. In small groups we tackled some pretty big questions and ideas.

What are your hopes and dreams?

Who are you?

How has your family shaped you and what parts of that might you need to leave behind in order to be happy and fulfilled?

What do you believe?

I didn’t know these kids from a bar of soap, and that was evident from the frostiness of our first session. Why would they open up to me? Why be vulnerable with a stranger?

So I shared.

My hopes – that I would get to know them a bit better. That I would have a less challenging year than last year. That I would be able to embrace opportunities like this one and say YES enthusiastically.

My struggles – missing home since moving to the city. Feeling overwhelmed. Not feeling connected.

My identity – the parts I loved, the parts I was working on and the parts I was conflicted about.

I was vulnerable with them. And it gave them the confidence to start being vulnerable with each other and me.

We slowly started to build a space where being vulnerable and showing up even when it was hard was the expectation. Speak, even if your voice shakes.

We watched this video.

And something shifted. Suddenly talking about the challenges they were facing seemed to come easier. And the listeners were engaged. Less awkward.

You’d be forgiven for thinking these kids (western suburbs, private school) probably don’t relate to real struggle. To what the video touched on.

But to think that is a disservice to them, and to life in general. Life is hard. Life is complicated. And that is a universal experience. Yes, these kids are from privileged backgrounds, but never assume privilege negates struggle. Sometimes, all it does is remove the space to talk about it.

That’s why the video was so powerful. That’s why me sharing was so powerful. It’s the shared struggle that gives us the space to connect, to learn and to grow. It’s recognising the humanity in someone else. Something that someyimes in today’s world can be really hard to see.

On a totally different level, that’s what the open gives us. The shared struggle. The humanity. The connection, the growth.

So, what did I learn from 23.1:

60cal feels a lot like a sprint and a lot like a marathon. In summary, gross. I loved it.
T2b are still rubbish. And that’s no one’s fault but mine. Somehow, they’ve gone missing as my pull ups have improved…. They’re on the ‘to improve’ list (again)
You can do big sets of wall balls. Especially when there’s only 5mins of a time cap left.
Holy fuck, so much pulling!
42.5 feels inconceivably heavy after all the other stuff.
Fun, spewy, great start. Let’s do that again (in a while. Not right now)

And 23.2

A grind is a joy
Shuttles are very deceptive (and I should have gone faster)
I 💞💗❤️ burpee pull ups
Thruster has improved
When it pauses, hold on and push your head through
Love love love. Let’s do that again. Right now. Tomorrow.

And I learned I’ve come a really long way since 2022. Not physically perhaps (see t2b…. And overhead position) but mentally and emotionally. My scores were average, but what they don’t show is the intangible training and wins. The last two years have been their own struggle. From battling PTSD, moving, leaving the place and friends I love, starting over. This open feels like a new page after closing a hard chapter. And a fucking empowering one.

There’s power in sharing, power in showing up, power in standing.

Breathe, keep moving.

Our brains are AMAZING. Thoughts, emotions, actions, movements, interactions – all at the speed of light, electrical pulses branching through infinitely intricate wiring (that occasionally misfire when mid-wod maths are involved…).

They help us, demand even, that we run most of our lives on autopilot. If we interrogated every step we took, if we had to decide the yes, no, maybe of each action we took, we would be exhausted. More than exhausted. We would be paralysed.

Sometimes, though, we invited this paralysis. Not consciously but by opening the flood gates to over-analysing the rightness of an event, action or situation.

Take, for instance, the ‘when I’m fit’ exercise starter. Anyone who is in a group fitness community – CrossFit or the like – has no doubt heard a line something like this:

Oh I’ll start [insert group training style here] when I’m a bit fitter.

I’ll be there when I’m in shape!

I’ll give myself the next six months to get fit enough to join.

And the inevitable:

Wow. Wish I’d started sooner!

We know, and they realise, that there is never a right time to start – you will always be ‘fit enough’ and conversely ‘not fit enough’. And that starting, wherever you are on your journey, is almost always a net positive. That just by showing up you have already taken the biggest and most important step forward and given yourself momentum for a bunch more positive steps.

How strange that our brains limit us from taking the next positive step? What are they protecting us from?

As adults, we tend to avoid sucking at stuff. We’ve done our time being awkward, and not very good at things through our childhood and teens and our adult autonomy offers us the opportunity to avoid being at the bottom of a learning ladder most of the time. I think it is this that we are avoiding. We want to privately get to a point where we (believe we) are proficient and THEN we are happy to go public.

We are dodging the exact thing that we encourage in our young people. Show up. Try. Fail. Learn. Get better.

And it’s SUCH a powerful journey. It is how we grow. It is how we stay humble. It is how we connect. It is how we foster success. It is how we practice resilience.

The Open is a huge opportunity for this, and one that a lot of us tap out of. We take the plunge. We start training. We become comfortable in our classes, surrounded by our people. Workouts are tough, but its our new normal. The open rolls around and… next year. When I’m fitter. When I’ve perfected my clean. When I can muscle up (lol…).

The open is new, unknown and very very visible. You are seen, judged, and scored against a global standard. It is nerve wracking. It is scary. And it is everything we should be searching for. The challenge, the step outside the comfort zone. The opportunity to show up and put yourself and your training on the line.

It is confronting. But that’s where the magic happens. We want our kids to learn these things:

Sometimes things are hard. And you know what? If you fail you’ll be ok.

You are stronger than you know, you have more to give when things get tough and you will rise higher when you allow yourself to be lifted by a community.

When we fall short, it is an opportunity to learn and do better.

But sometimes as adults we tap out of these lessons. And we should keep learning them forever.

For me, this open is going to be tough. I haven’t been as consistent as I wanted. I haven’t ticked off a bunch of skills I had hoped to (muscle ups, wall walks, handstand push ups, looking at you!). Fitting in the workouts is going to be a spanner in my weekend routine. But its going to be an opportunity to see where I’m at. To challenge myself. To take a little reality check. To put myself in an uncomfortable position and learn how to be ok with it. To be better in the future.

And I love it. I love the anticipation. The pressure. I love celebrating other people as they clear hurdles they never thought they could. These are practices and lessons that are so integral in the gym and outside. And I’m so grateful for the opportunity.

The open is one opportunity, and it isn’t right for everyone (even though I love it and think everyone should do it #crossfitkoolaid… I know, I know). But let’s find opportunities to show up, be confronted, be challenged and learn. Let’s put into practice the lessons we want our young people to learn. Let’s be role models and life longer learners.

For the love of the work.

For the love of the challenge.

For the love of the learning.

Keep showing up xx

Tag: CrossFit Open

How ya livin’? – 23.1 and 23.2 Reflection

Showing up