Friday, February 5, 2016

Is Competition Selfish?

It turns out I find listening to podcasts inspiring, so much so that I'm thinking about trying to talk Robby Star into hosting a podcast with me.  If you talk to him, and think it's a good idea, please buzz in his ear.

Today's inspiration relates to whether competing is inherently selfish.  It's an issue I've struggled with over the years - it felt really selfish to miss my brother's graduation from high school because it conflicted with my Pac-10 Championship in college.  It feels selfish to pretty much only see my extended family if they happen to live somewhere I am competing because I spend all of my vacation time traveling to one competition or another.  Even more selfish than the competitions, it feels ridiculously selfish to plan my free time day in and day out around training or recovery because my daily schedule also becomes my husband's, and it affects when my mom can call me, or when my gym members can talk to me.  My free time, as a semi-professional exerciser, has to revolve around training, and those choices can certainly feel very selfish.

That said, I consider myself to be an unselfish person.  It's certainly the kind of person I want to be.  I want my life to be very much in tune with the needs of the people around me, and whether or not I am enhancing or hurting them, I care very deeply about how my actions affect my loved ones.  At some point in my college career during a winter break I told my high school coach that I was struggling with whether striving to excel in sports (hammer throwing at the time) was a meaningful or worthwhile pursuit.  His response was genius, and has stuck with me.  He told me that if it mattered to me, it mattered.  In my heart, in terms of what I want to accomplish, nothing matters more, even though I've never really understood why.  I've come to understand that I inherently value the pursuit of excellence, and I have excellent focus on the pursuit.  I'm not necessarily excellent, nor have I actually achieved most of what I've set out to (even though I have gotten very close), but I'm still getting better nearly 30 years after I set out to be great, and it still matters to me.

So, how is a person who wants to be unselfish, and who is pursuing something that requires near complete focus day in and day out, to be a competitive athlete without creating internal conflict?

What I've learned is that pursuing excellence has never been just about me.  My parents created endless opportunities for me to compete, and in doing so opened doors for me to attend Stanford, nearly reach the Olympics, and live out every one of my childhood dreams.  Now my husband contributes to my success day in and day out - he makes sure food is close enough that I'll remember to eat, he helps me manage my training, he's responsible for most of the daily operation of the gym we both dreamed of, and in doing so creates an atmosphere in which elite training is possible for me.  Through empowering my pursuit, he contributes to something that matters to him - and he experiences my success and failure as his, not just as mine.  Largely for this reason, each season I continue to train starts with a conversation about whether this is how WE want to spend the year.  It's not just about me.

Beyond how training affects my nearest and dearest, pursuing excellence affects the community around me, but not in the way I originally thought.  I used to think that people cared if I won or lost, that they'd remember me for my greatness, or somehow that the end result would be meaningful.  I've learned that couldn't be farther from the truth (even for people that actually do make the Olympics).  The medals tarnish, the memory fades, and an incredibly small number of the things we accomplish in life will be remembered.  We remember that someone did something awesome once, and we found it really cool at the time, but most of us forget the specifics.

As humans, I believe we all want to accomplish things we value, and we all face major obstacles.  Watching another person pursue a goal, especially as they overcome their obstacles, is beautiful and inspiring in large part because it gives us faith that we can reach our own goals despite our own obstacles.  In addition, contributing selflessly to another person's pursuit is one of the most beautiful things in the world - whether or not they realize their contributions, the people who help others surely have a special place in Heaven because they've made the world a better place.  It isn't about the outcome, it's about the connection we share as someone who is trying to do something meets someone else who has the ability and willingness to help.  Seeing someone else strong enough to keep trying, even when others would quit, can be the encouragement anyone needs to continue fighting their own battles.  It's about a whole lot more than achieving the right number of centimeters or few enough hundredths of a second on game day, even though that's what training can feel like it's about most of the time.

So, is training inherently selfish?  I don't think it has to be.  It certainly can be, and is, if you're doing it for personal glory or fame.  As I've gotten older, and realized that I'm not going to grow out of this any time soon, I've come to realize that at least for me, it's about the authentic pursuit of knowing myself and who I'm meant to be - trying to be the best I can be by working to overcome my weaknesses, and using my strengths to help others.  I try to share my experiences as openly and authentically as possible because the pursuit is all there is.  It's about feeling gratitude for the people who support me, see the value of what I'm trying to do, and give me strength when my own resources falter.  We are all in the same race.  It doesn't matter the scale of the goal, the obstacles we face, or the apparent likelihood that we'll succeed.  Sports just happen to be one of the outlets people can actually see - career goals, family goals, life goals are more private, but no different.  Competition, defined as striving for success in an authentic goal, is something we should all pursue, every day of our lives.  While doing so, we need to recognize the journey, and the impact we all have on each other.

Tuesday, February 2, 2016

How Can I Help?

This evening I was listening to a podcast which made me really sad.  The subject of the podcast was women and eating disorders, and the speakers were therapists and CrossFit enthusiasts who had solicited questions about body image and disordered eating in order to address these questions for the benefit of their listeners.

My sadness stemmed from a sense that despite their good intentions, the speakers were not being especially helpful regarding disordered eating, body image, or the ultimate goal (as I see it) of achieving optimal health and a sense of self-satisfaction.  They were trying to help, of course, and the things they were saying are technically correct as far as I understand the current research on the subject, but they utterly lacked real empathy for the situation many women find themselves in from time to time, and/or (I wasn't sure which) they are so disordered themselves that they were unable to separate their own behavior from the disordered mentalities they were trying to address.  In all, I felt my heart clamoring to add my own voice to the conversation - to open my own experiences up, and offer all the associated pain I've overcome as it relates to experiencing staggering levels of perfectionism, the success and devastation that has brought me, and the depth of understanding I now have that we are who we are, and the journey is all there is (to quote Kill Cliff's new and brilliant tagline - can you guys please make shirts and sell them all to me?)

To that end, if anyone reading this thinks I might be able to help with something you're going through, or wants to learn any strategies I've used relating to overcoming eating disorders, coming to terms with failing to reach my life goal of competing in the Olympics, overcoming injury, pursuing optimized mental and physical health through thoughtful training and dialed-in nutrition, or the challenges of training at a high level while balancing a demanding career, I'd love to hear from you.  Please shoot me an email, and let me know how I can help.


Hello World

It's been a year and a half since I last blogged here.  In that time, I've kept a few of you up to speed via Instagram @sarahhopping, and most of you I speak with on a daily basis at Arena Ready or you're my mom or my aunts.  Sorry for my lack of posting, but let me quickly bring you up to speed before I launch into today's post.

Most notably, I've returned to the world of competitive CrossFit with more love for the sport and training methodology than ever before.  I made it to the California Super Regional by the skin of my teeth in 2015 and managed to finish in the top half despite fighting a pesky subluxed rib and my continued uselessness in handstand walking and handstand push-ups (earning me last and second-to-last place finishes, respectively).  The joy of being back out on the floor even despite my shortcomings, and the associated experience of spending a joyous weekend in San Diego with my parents and Arena Ready family, was motivation to keep trying to relive that experience each year that I am able through circumstances and/or physical ability.  It is a joy to pursue the best that I can be among like-minded people of every level.

I participated in the second season of the GRID League last fall, playing for the San Francisco Fire, and was honored to earn Honorable Mention on the All-Grid team thanks to the votes of fans.  Our team battled some adversity through the latter part of the season, but we managed to earn a spot in the Semi-Final match, and were thankful to enjoy spending time trying to move heavy weights faster together.

To state the also obvious, I've quit competitive weightlifting as a sport.  This was primarily because I became unwilling to compete at 75kg after a very tough cut and subsequent lackluster performance at the 2014 American Open.  I am too realistic to think I could compete with the likes of Sarah Robles or Holley Mangold at my natural body weight of 80kg, so I've given up on the dream of competing in weightlifting on the international stage as a specific focus.  I still love lifting heavy weights, as you've seen on Instagram, but now I lift them only when I feel like it, seldom in weightlifting shoes, and never in a singlet

I continue to help Rob run Arena Ready, but professionally I've also spent the last year re-investing in my career in financial services.  This new endeavor means an hour-long commute in each direction (worse sometimes with traffic), and a tremendous amount of mental commitment throughout the day, but it's also been a wonderful opportunity to reconnect with the other side of my brain, and try to build something that could revolutionize private markets.

I think that brings me to today - listening to a podcast about women and eating disorders on my commute from the office to the gym.  I was aghast at how little depth or substance the speakers shared in terms of their own experience and their expertise in helping people with these issues come to terms with body image, their relationships with food, and most importantly in my view, healing their hearts.  I found myself craving the opportunity to share my own experience with anyone who could benefit, because as always I hope that the struggles and triumphs I have experienced can help to enrich the lives of those around me - I want anyone interested to benefit from my experience without having to live through some of the pain first hand.