This weekend I competed in the US NATIONAL WEIGHTLIFTING CHAMPIONSHIPS 2014 in Salt Lake City, Utah. I opened at 88kg/194lbs (1kg less than my competition PR, but a lift I consistently make in practice, and only 2kg more than my last successful warm up) and missed all three attempts, alongside my friend and competitor Samantha Poeth. In the Clean & Jerk I was determined to go back out there and win a medal, but on my warm up attempt at 110kg I feared it was not to be as I started to feel the effects of having lost 1.5kg/3.3 lbs in the prior 24 hours. I did manage to make my opener at 114kg/251lbs (which is the heaviest opener I've ever attempted), but was unsuccessful on the jerk of both subsequent attempts at 117kg/257lbs. I did manage to place 4th in the clean & jerk, but overall it wasn't at all what I had hoped for the competition, nor was it reflective of the progress I've been making in training.
Below is the text of a blog post I wrote for our gym, Arena Ready, about the experience, my takeaways, and my outlook on my future as a weightlifter.
The credit belongs to the athlete in the arena who strives valiantly, dares greatly and knows both victory and defeat.
We named Arena Ready as a tribute to Theodore Roosevelt's famous quote from "Citizenship in a Republic," which is meaningful to us for various reasons, not the least of which that we believe it's true.
"It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat."
There is no such thing as the easy path. I know that as well as anyone, and while I would like to say this weekend didn't go as planned, that would sort of be a lie. While I've worked really hard, tried my best, overcome some serious obstacles, and maintained faith in my abilities, a big part of me didn't think I was good enough to reach my goals this weekend, and my doubt defeated my hope.
Sure, I could have (and in hindsight, perhaps should have) played it safe, gone for conservative lifts and a medal, maintained a higher bodyweight, and in general been more cautious, but that wouldn't have been true to what I was trying to accomplish.
I wanted to post a total high enough to qualify for the World Team. Unfortunately, while my body might be ready for that (in training I've snatched 92kg/203lbs, cleaned 125kg/275lbs, and jerked 128kg/282 lbs), my mind isn't quite yet. There is a big part of me that doesn't believe I'm there - I'm a little scared I'm still hurt, or that I'll get hurt again, I'm in tremendous awe of the women I compete against, and it hasn't quite sunk in yet that I'm also capable of some of the incredible things they can do.
As it turns out, and as we've known all along, weightlifting is just as mental as it is physical, and although I've been lifting weights, and even competing in weightlifting, for a sort of long time now, my new goals have me feeling like a rookie again when it comes to the psychological aspects of taking this sport seriously.
The reality is, the pursuit of any goal is typically far more frustrating than it is delightful. The end result is almost never guaranteed, and for every Olympian there are probably 100 if not 1,000 other athletes who wanted to make it just as badly, and maybe even tried just as hard, but who never ended up making it. I know this, and I'm not that deterred by this particular failure. I was the lucky girl to finish 3rd in the 2012 USAW Nationals because of another girl's misfortune (she also bombed out in the snatch), and now I'm the one to bomb out. Someone else got the shiny medal this time. But I was still in the arena, striving to the best of my ability, and to me that is everything.
Well, almost everything. I've seldom felt as loved as I have in the past 24 hours. I have more new friends, more newfound faith in humanity, and a much deeper love for quite a few people as a result of this failure. I finally understand that "fans" want everyone to succeed. They don't do the math. They want us all to succeed even though only one can be the winner. And when we fail, while they're happy for the victor, they still love the losers and want to see them succeed at some point in the future. My parents and grandparents were able to be in the audience - this was the first time they've ever seen a weightlifting competition - and they still thought it was really cool, especially because I didn't drop the bar on my head. My coaches did an incredible job as they always do, and we learned a few things to apply to the next big competition. It looks like I may still have an opportunity to benefit from the incredible resources at the Olympic Training Center, and I'll most likely have another shot at a World Team, I'll just have to wait until next year. I also received some of the most thoughtful emails and cards from people in our Arena Ready community, and it helped to remind me that it isn't even mostly about lifting all the weights.
I'm as committed as ever, but this weekend my focus shifted from a very narrow goal to a much less specific one - to become the very best weightlifter I can be, and to let the chips fall where they may. I've also decided to publicly share a lot more details of my training, nutrition and journey in general because it seems like maybe I can help a few of the tall girls out there who think our height is a disadvantage. And maybe I can even help a few short girls and guy or two along the way. You can follow me on Twitter @sarahhopping1 or Instagram at @sarahhopping. I'm planning to do my best to post some highlights, lowlights, and if I have any, insights. This is to thank a community that has done so much for me - I'm hoping that exposing more of my highs and lows will help you to become better weightlifters, or maybe even enter your own arenas.
Finally, this post would be lacking something if I didn't mention how awesome the weekend was in every way except for my performance. USA Weightlifting ran the meet incredibly smoothly despite accommodating twice as many participants as last year. The event organizers did a great job in selecting and setting up the event venue, and we even got upgraded to an enourmous suite with a full kitchen which was an incredible blessing. Brickwall CrossFit welcomed all of the athletes to take over their gym as a training hall for the whole weekend, and their gorgeous facility provided all that we needed and more. Coach Hillary competed awesome, as did our friends Jes, Jenny, D'Angelo, Sarabeth, John, and many others. We saw several American Records fall, and some really intense battles fought. And Rob was my rock, as always, encouraging me through the months of hangriness, the days of debilitating doubt and fear, the weeks of injury and pain, and the crushing stress of trying to do something I wasn't quite ready to do. It's rare that everything leading up to an event is perfect, perhaps that's why I had to go and mess it up!
A final thank you for all of your thoughts, wishes, encouragement, prayers and love. I couldn't do this without you.
Tuesday, July 22, 2014
Wednesday, April 30, 2014
The Importance of a Femur
I competed in the Hassle Free Invitational on March 9th, and was able to snatch 89kg and clean and jerk 119kg for a 208 kg total as a 75kg lifter. I set several PRs in the competition - most notably, a competition snatch PR, a lifetime squat clean PR (I've power cleaned 120kg, so I'm nearly there), a lifetime jerk PR and jerk attempt PR, and a first-ever fail behind on snatch at 92kg (which would have been a lifetime PR, and enough to qualify me for the Pan Am team). It was a pretty incredible day, and I felt honored to work with Coach Smalcerz, Coach Doherty, and my very own Robbie Star. I tied for second in my weight class in terms of total, but finished 3rd overall because I outweighed my competitor by .2kg. To give a sense of the caliber of this competition, the winner broke the American Records in Snatch, Clean & Jerk, and Total. 2nd place is ranked 2nd in the country in our weight class, and my numbers broke the PWA clean & jerk and total records.
The competition felt like the beginning of a dream come true. My Arena Ready family was out in full force, I felt the love from my brand new Hassle Free family, and a few other close friends and family were in attendance and watching online as well. When they announced us at the beginning of the competition, the cheers brought me to tears. I managed to cut weight successfully, trust the process, and feel strong on the platform even though I'd been nearly passing out in practice due to hunger for the past two weeks. I was extremely proud of the way I competed.
My total was just short of what I needed to make the Pan Am team, so I was able to shift my focus to Nationals in July. This time frame also allowed me to participate in three of the CrossFit Open workouts, which really made my day. I was lifting great, and CrossFitting surprisingly well (which makes me even more excited to go back to CrossFitting when that time comes). I did experience a slight back injury during my first workout after the competition, but that resolved pretty quickly, and I was building huge weightlifting castles in my mind.
Then, a consistently tight right quad got my attention and I went in to see the fantastic Dr. Rabbetz. Much to my surprise, he diagnosed me with a femoral stress fracture. Just like that I was out. O. U. T. out. Not allowed to do anything that flexed my quad. On crutches. Outlook unsure. Recovery could take four weeks. Or years.
Initially I was totally optimistic and unphased. I did the math and knew I still had time to recover and come back to train for Nationals. I was glad I hadn't qualified for Pan Am's (reminiscent of how glad I ended up being I didn't qualify for the CrossFit Games in 2013 due to a partially torn rotator cuff I'd similarly ignored leading up to Regionals). As my time on crutches dragged on, it was hard for my heart to maintain its game face. I started doubting myself, my ambition, my age, pretty much everything. I started daydreaming about going back to CrossFit early, and giving up.
I realized, as usual, that giving up forms the basis of my only guarantee. The reason talented athletes don't reach their potential sometimes is because the going gets tough and they quit. They can't see the other side. It often has nothing to do with their potential. Everyone gets hurt. Training is always hard. But if you give up you're done.
So, I tried not to give up. I did what I could to heal fast. I actually didn't flex my quad. I used my crutches (for the most part). I also was careful to maintain my new weight so I wouldn't have to cut again when the time came. I visualized the snatch like crazy - I watched videos, I talked Rob's ear off, I coached, I tried to figure out where my technique differs from what everyone is trying to get me to do. I figured it out in my mind.
Now, I'm back on the platform. I've lifted 6 days in a row, and I'm getting close enough to pre-injury numbers that I'm a little less depressed. The first time I tried to jerk 95kg this week I nearly crumbled. It felt SO heavy. And IMPOSSIBLE. But today I jerked 102kg and stopped to make sure I didn't overdo it. I've snatched 80kg and had a few good attempts at 85kg. I'm not where I'd like to be right now, but I'm still trying. I haven't given up, and I'm even more grateful that this is one of the things I get to look forward to in my day.
Outlook uncertain. But I'm not giving up! I'm planning to compete at the PWA Championships this weekend, and am hoping to snatch well. Nationals are mid-July, and that remains my primary focus at the moment!
Sunday, March 2, 2014
Out for the 2014 Open
Sometimes life changes in ways you never could have anticipated. In 2011 I completed 11.1 less than three months after having a plate installed in my broken elbow and scored just over 7 rounds. Today I completed only 33 reps of the same workout because I'm competing in a qualifier for the Pan Am Games in weightlifting next weekend, and that was all I felt comfortable doing without influencing my chances of competing well.
As recently as mid-January, my training was pretty much 95% CrossFit weaknesses and 5% weightlifting program. My training was at the highest volume it had ever been, but I never did heavy squats or squat cleans because my primary focus was on getting 10 consecutive muscle ups, 40 consecutive handstand pushups and a time on "2007" that I wouldn't be totally embarrassed about. I believe I was fitter than I had ever been, and more excited than ever to try to make the CrossFit Games. I believe that my chances were better this year than ever before.
But, suddenly a dream I've had my entire life has actually started to come true. It appears I may have a shot at representing our country in weightlifting. I was about as close as a person can be in track and field in 2008 despite some tough circumstances, and I was about as close to making the CrossFit Games as you can be in 2013. I want to write a different ending to this story. I want to find a way to make it the rest of the way to my goal, and it seems this may finally be my chance. My PRs are climbing, I'm squatting nearly every day, and I believe I'm just getting started.
When I initially considered this change of focus, and this new pursuit, I found myself wishing for a guarantee. I wanted a guarantee that I would make it, that the sacrifice would be worth it, that I wouldn't find myself disappointed again. But, I finally realized that not trying is the basis for the only guarantee I could possibly have: that I will not make it if I don't try.
As a weightlifter, I get to spend every single day focusing on my strength. As a CrossFitter, I've avoided pushing my limits in weightlifting because developing a specialty tends to come at the expense of general physical preparedness, i.e. being a better weightlifter made me a worse CrossFitter. Now, I get to wake up every day excited to be a better weightlifter, and my joy about that has only grown in the past six weeks. I've already formed wonderful relationships within the weightlifting community, and I'm thankful for the warm welcome I've received.
As a weightlifter, I get to spend every single day focusing on my strength. As a CrossFitter, I've avoided pushing my limits in weightlifting because developing a specialty tends to come at the expense of general physical preparedness, i.e. being a better weightlifter made me a worse CrossFitter. Now, I get to wake up every day excited to be a better weightlifter, and my joy about that has only grown in the past six weeks. I've already formed wonderful relationships within the weightlifting community, and I'm thankful for the warm welcome I've received.
At the same time, I still love CrossFit with every ounce of my being. It is the foundation of nearly everything positive in my life. It's created two careers that I love - the Seminar Staff and my affiliate Arena Ready, it's the basis of a community I can't imagine my life without, it's helped me to finally form a healthy relationship with my body, and establish an identity that I desperately needed. And, in four years of CrossFit (including a year healing the broken elbow) I've added 60 pounds to my snatch, nearly 100 pounds to my squat, 20 pounds to my clean and learned to jerk. I wouldn't have had this opportunity if I weren't a CrossFitter. So, although I can't compete in CrossFit while I'm pursuing weightlifting, I can certainly cheer, judge, coach, and love it, and I plan to do just that.
I plan to come back to the CrossFit Open at some point in the future. I still hope to make the CrossFit Games someday, but for now, I am a really happy, excited weightlifter. I hope to represent our country on an international stage, and I hope to finally reach a goal I've had since I can remember being capable of setting a goal.
Best of luck to my friends competing in the Open, and those who will go on to test their fitness at Regionals and the Games. Now that I'm a spectator, I'm even more in awe of your incredible capacity and humble hearts. I'll be cheering for you.
Best of luck to my friends competing in the Open, and those who will go on to test their fitness at Regionals and the Games. Now that I'm a spectator, I'm even more in awe of your incredible capacity and humble hearts. I'll be cheering for you.
Monday, June 4, 2012
Stubborn
Sometimes people say that I was born the athlete I am today - suggesting that my ability to show up physically and mentally on game day is an innate attribute. It is so hard for me not to argue when someone says that because of how hard I've worked to develop my physical and mental attributes throughout my life (since first watching the Olympics at age 5, I've been learning the art of the game face).
I was not born with the ability to compete well, nor am I a physical freak of nature. I'm a little knock kneed, and my arms aren't the same length. I've messed up literally hundreds of times in competition, only to experience the devastation that a poor performance brings, over and over again.
The only thing I may have been born with is stubbornness. I may not reach my goal, but I will not give up on getting better. I do not want to waste my life, and I do not let failure define my future. I want to be better tomorrow than I am today, so today I make choices which will influence my tomorrow.
Every time I fail on big and small stages (even when I miss lifts in practice), I look at the events leading up to the failure and try to evaluate what I could have done differently to reach a different outcome. The next time I face that challenge I try not to make the same mistakes again. I'm constantly thinking through my strategy for the upcoming day, month, and year to try to plan ways that this year will be better than the last - how I'll be thinner, stronger, healthier, happier and more successful than I was the year before.
I was not born with it. Neither were you. But I have a good set of tools. Today, I choose to use them. Do you?
I was not born with the ability to compete well, nor am I a physical freak of nature. I'm a little knock kneed, and my arms aren't the same length. I've messed up literally hundreds of times in competition, only to experience the devastation that a poor performance brings, over and over again.
The only thing I may have been born with is stubbornness. I may not reach my goal, but I will not give up on getting better. I do not want to waste my life, and I do not let failure define my future. I want to be better tomorrow than I am today, so today I make choices which will influence my tomorrow.
Every time I fail on big and small stages (even when I miss lifts in practice), I look at the events leading up to the failure and try to evaluate what I could have done differently to reach a different outcome. The next time I face that challenge I try not to make the same mistakes again. I'm constantly thinking through my strategy for the upcoming day, month, and year to try to plan ways that this year will be better than the last - how I'll be thinner, stronger, healthier, happier and more successful than I was the year before.
I was not born with it. Neither were you. But I have a good set of tools. Today, I choose to use them. Do you?
Monday, May 21, 2012
Community
CrossFitters talk a lot about community, so much so that sometimes I think it's become merely a buzz word. When asked what you like about CrossFit, you're supposed to say, "It's changed my life," "I can do things I never thought were possible," "the workouts are so challenging," and "I love the community."
Well, this weekend I was asked on camera why I CrossFit, and I'm pretty sure I said the same things everyone else says, word for word. I consider myself introspective, occasionally creative, and usually hilarious (although it's mostly just me who laughs at my jokes), so I was disappointed to hear the same "boring cliches" emerge from my mouth. The trouble is, I couldn't really think of anything else to say, because they are all true. And pretty much universally true. I believe this forms the basis for an exceptionally strong worldwide community - formed by sharing significant experiences. Life, for that matter, is that way. We all share experiences (good and bad) which build into a wonderful interconnected web which results in a supportive community so far beyond that which I had previously recognized.
This weekend I was blown away by my community, and was reminded that no one should ever think they live in isolation. I received messages of support from people I haven't heard from in many years, even people I thought would have forgotten me by now. I was surrounded in person by people who inspire and support me on a daily basis. I watched people cheering with great enthusiasm for perfect strangers, who just by working out, just by being them, were encouraging others to reach for healthier, happier lives.
I was blessed to have two moms and two of my coaches in attendance this weekend, along with many other family members and friends watching via the refresh button on the Games site. I was touched by how excited they were for me to compete and succeed. They've already endured a lot of CrossFit talk from me - descriptions of workouts and movements I'm sure they couldn't care less about, and yet they were excited to spend three days watching me do them.
I was blessed by my teammates - I watched each of them give everything they had - being brave enough to even compete at Regionals despite having some significant fears to overcome, to complete 15 reps of a recent PR weight, to dive underneath a near PR snatch without having been able to warm up properly, to compete well despite overwhelming soreness, to set PRs which had eluded them for years. I was also humbled by the genuine enthusiasm of the people who almost made the team - rather than detract from our community by being selfish and hurt (as I was last year, much to my chagrin), they were the #1 supporters this year, and I am so grateful to them for that.
I was blessed by the other competitors - I was so surprised to have so many people who inspire me telling me I inspire them. When I've watched CrossFit, it's always seemed, based on how friendly they are to each other, that there must be a bit of an "insiders" clique, yet rather than feeling like an outsider, I was amazed at how genuine the camaraderie actually is, and how it extended to me even as a competitive newcomer.
I am so grateful to all of the judges, volunteers, sponsors, CrossFit media and staff for making the event this weekend possible. Participating in Regionals made me feel more like a star than I did at the Olympic Trials (and that was an incredible experience). CrossFit has created something really special - and beyond HQ, the gyms, the coaches, and the competitors, it's also a credit to all of the people who are willing to give their time, talents and enthusiasm to media, logistics, programming, announcing, equipment, and everything else that goes into putting on such an awesome event.
I hope that everyone who was watching this weekend realizes that the competitors on the field are no different than the fans. We are all capable of so much more than we think possible - through consistent effort, good nutrition, and effective exercise we can all be healthier, stronger and more capable than we are right now. And we are each surrounded by a huge community of people who love to see us each succeed.
Well, this weekend I was asked on camera why I CrossFit, and I'm pretty sure I said the same things everyone else says, word for word. I consider myself introspective, occasionally creative, and usually hilarious (although it's mostly just me who laughs at my jokes), so I was disappointed to hear the same "boring cliches" emerge from my mouth. The trouble is, I couldn't really think of anything else to say, because they are all true. And pretty much universally true. I believe this forms the basis for an exceptionally strong worldwide community - formed by sharing significant experiences. Life, for that matter, is that way. We all share experiences (good and bad) which build into a wonderful interconnected web which results in a supportive community so far beyond that which I had previously recognized.
This weekend I was blown away by my community, and was reminded that no one should ever think they live in isolation. I received messages of support from people I haven't heard from in many years, even people I thought would have forgotten me by now. I was surrounded in person by people who inspire and support me on a daily basis. I watched people cheering with great enthusiasm for perfect strangers, who just by working out, just by being them, were encouraging others to reach for healthier, happier lives.
I was blessed to have two moms and two of my coaches in attendance this weekend, along with many other family members and friends watching via the refresh button on the Games site. I was touched by how excited they were for me to compete and succeed. They've already endured a lot of CrossFit talk from me - descriptions of workouts and movements I'm sure they couldn't care less about, and yet they were excited to spend three days watching me do them.
I was blessed by my teammates - I watched each of them give everything they had - being brave enough to even compete at Regionals despite having some significant fears to overcome, to complete 15 reps of a recent PR weight, to dive underneath a near PR snatch without having been able to warm up properly, to compete well despite overwhelming soreness, to set PRs which had eluded them for years. I was also humbled by the genuine enthusiasm of the people who almost made the team - rather than detract from our community by being selfish and hurt (as I was last year, much to my chagrin), they were the #1 supporters this year, and I am so grateful to them for that.
I was blessed by the other competitors - I was so surprised to have so many people who inspire me telling me I inspire them. When I've watched CrossFit, it's always seemed, based on how friendly they are to each other, that there must be a bit of an "insiders" clique, yet rather than feeling like an outsider, I was amazed at how genuine the camaraderie actually is, and how it extended to me even as a competitive newcomer.
I am so grateful to all of the judges, volunteers, sponsors, CrossFit media and staff for making the event this weekend possible. Participating in Regionals made me feel more like a star than I did at the Olympic Trials (and that was an incredible experience). CrossFit has created something really special - and beyond HQ, the gyms, the coaches, and the competitors, it's also a credit to all of the people who are willing to give their time, talents and enthusiasm to media, logistics, programming, announcing, equipment, and everything else that goes into putting on such an awesome event.
I hope that everyone who was watching this weekend realizes that the competitors on the field are no different than the fans. We are all capable of so much more than we think possible - through consistent effort, good nutrition, and effective exercise we can all be healthier, stronger and more capable than we are right now. And we are each surrounded by a huge community of people who love to see us each succeed.
Friday, May 11, 2012
Super Hero
Sometimes after "3...2...1... GO!" you have to just go. Stop thinking about whether you can do it, whether you're fast enough, whether someone else is faster, whether you should slow down in case you get too tired later on. Sometimes you have to just GO and trust your training, your instincts, your body. Tell the mind that its job is to stand by and cheer as the body takes over.
[To be clear, while you are developing proficiency in a movement, or if you're nursing an injury, sometimes it's necessary to be cautious - this will likely be the subject of a later post. However, sometimes in the absence of a physical limitation people are still hesitant, and in that case I say (to myself first and foremost), just GO!]
As an Olympic Lifting coach I watch people try for PRs all the time. Some people PR by a few pounds practically every time they snatch. Some people hit mental roadblocks and stay at the same weight, two wheels for example, for months. Oftentimes the difference is what they say to themselves. The difference between "Oh my gosh, I've never snatched 100 pounds before" and "This is only 5 pounds more than I got last time, it's almost the same thing" is quite often the difference between a miss and a make. Victory vs. defeat.
I am sure to be inadequate if that's what I let myself believe. Before I can accomplish anything I have to convince myself that what I am going for is possible for me on that day. I'm tired of losing in my mind. It really doesn't ever happen that someone else beats me. Sure they might be faster, but only when I give up do I lose. And I never give up because of them, I give up because of me. Because I fear that I am inadequate.
Leading up to Femme Fit 2011 my PR in the clean was 225. I cleaned 240 that day. Leading up to NorCal Recovery Comp in April, my PR (and the last time I had jerked heavy) was from Nationals in March. I jerked 225 (because I accidentally added 10's to the bar instead of 5's and decided to go with it). Finally, last week my deadlift PR (a lift I'm convinced I'm not good at) was 335. Working up to that weight I was feeling strong and told Rob he could put whatever he wanted on there. I deadlifted 370 (surprising even him - he thought it was 360).
Had you asked me before those competitions if I could do those things, I would have told you maybe... someday. But in a competitive environment, knowing that people are watching - some cheering and some sending miss daggers - ambition can outweigh fear. This is one of the reasons I encourage people to compete. If you can create a training environment for yourself in which you can quiet your inhibitions and focus only on your achievements you can give yourself a clearer view of your capabilities, which, once known, can't be unknown. GO, and let your body blow your mind away!
[To be clear, while you are developing proficiency in a movement, or if you're nursing an injury, sometimes it's necessary to be cautious - this will likely be the subject of a later post. However, sometimes in the absence of a physical limitation people are still hesitant, and in that case I say (to myself first and foremost), just GO!]
As an Olympic Lifting coach I watch people try for PRs all the time. Some people PR by a few pounds practically every time they snatch. Some people hit mental roadblocks and stay at the same weight, two wheels for example, for months. Oftentimes the difference is what they say to themselves. The difference between "Oh my gosh, I've never snatched 100 pounds before" and "This is only 5 pounds more than I got last time, it's almost the same thing" is quite often the difference between a miss and a make. Victory vs. defeat.
I am sure to be inadequate if that's what I let myself believe. Before I can accomplish anything I have to convince myself that what I am going for is possible for me on that day. I'm tired of losing in my mind. It really doesn't ever happen that someone else beats me. Sure they might be faster, but only when I give up do I lose. And I never give up because of them, I give up because of me. Because I fear that I am inadequate.
Leading up to Femme Fit 2011 my PR in the clean was 225. I cleaned 240 that day. Leading up to NorCal Recovery Comp in April, my PR (and the last time I had jerked heavy) was from Nationals in March. I jerked 225 (because I accidentally added 10's to the bar instead of 5's and decided to go with it). Finally, last week my deadlift PR (a lift I'm convinced I'm not good at) was 335. Working up to that weight I was feeling strong and told Rob he could put whatever he wanted on there. I deadlifted 370 (surprising even him - he thought it was 360).
Had you asked me before those competitions if I could do those things, I would have told you maybe... someday. But in a competitive environment, knowing that people are watching - some cheering and some sending miss daggers - ambition can outweigh fear. This is one of the reasons I encourage people to compete. If you can create a training environment for yourself in which you can quiet your inhibitions and focus only on your achievements you can give yourself a clearer view of your capabilities, which, once known, can't be unknown. GO, and let your body blow your mind away!
Wednesday, May 9, 2012
Winning Doesn't Feel Like Winning
This week in a remarkably profound email, my boss wrote a sentence which caught my attention, given the NorCal Regionals are now merely 9 days away. He said, "What's crazy about winning is that it doesn't feel like winning. It feels like a lot of hard work, because at any given moment, that's what winners are likely to be doing."
When I read that, it nearly made me cry. In my office... at work. Nearly crying because of a sentence in an email having nothing to do with sports. If that doesn't feel like winning, I don't know what does!
Seriously, I've spent all but about a few weeks of my life training in the hopes of winning something. Whether it was soccer, jumping, or hammer in the early days or now in 2012 first it was 5 weeks of the CF Games Open with USAW Nationals thrown in for good measure. Then, immediately thereafter it became CF NorCal Regionals. And, suffering from temporary insanity (or possibly superhero disorder), I spent a few weeks in there also training for the Olympic Trials in Long Jump. I know. Unrealistic. But jumping 19ish feet after 10 years away from the sport gets a girl to dreaming!
The problem with winning in sports is there is a lot of sacrifice involved in the journey - declining fun social invitations, being away from family, enduring physical challenges, making consistently healthy choices, and more, yet these sacrifices have to be made with no guarantee that they will actually result in victory. In 2008 I watched in disbelief as one of the best throwers in the country, one of my heroes, failed to make the preliminary cut at the Trials after training for over a decade. She was without a doubt deserving of a spot on the Olympic team and she didn't even finish in the top 12.
That was part of why I quit throwing hammer, although obviously it's a complicated equation. I couldn't imagine spending four more years training, working and sacrificing - giving more than I was willing to give - if ultimately I couldn't be sure that I would win. For me the sacrifices required to win didn't match up to the likely outcome (to be a math nerd for a second: reward for winning * likelihood of winning = expected reward < necessary compensation for sacrifice). Now, on the flip side, even knowing that I may not ultimately perform as I expect or hope in a CrossFit competition, I'm willing to recommit myself to the life of a semi-professional athlete. The difference now is that the sacrifices I'm making as a CrossFitter and an Olympic Weightlifter are sacrifices I'm willing to make with no guarantee - even if I don't win I know that my life is better because of the quest.
Now, 10 days away from Regionals, even though I'm scared, every muscle in my body hurts, I'm exhausted, and I'm not sure I'm good enough, I haven't and won't quit because I believe that I will be better, having gone through this struggle. There's a good chance (probably most people think there is 100% chance) that I will not be competing in Carson in July - after all, I'm in NorCal, I only finished in 30th in the Open, and I am up against some really talented women. But, having trained, focused, and fought for this opportunity, I know that I am better than I was, and on some level I have already won.
My broken wing is almost as good as new - wanting to compete at an elite level provided an incentive to restore my arm completely, rather than accepting partial function as good enough. I am mentally stronger - I have shown myself time and again that I can fight through fear and pain, I can keep moving when my body says stop, and I can show up even when I don't want to. I'm struck daily by how difficult life can be at times, and I know that the strength I develop as an athlete carries over to strength in other areas - whether or not I compete well next weekend I will be better prepared to face obstacles which I'm afraid of later on in life. I may not win, but in working to win, I improved.
At this point in time I am doing lots of hard work. I hope this is what it feels like to be winning.
When I read that, it nearly made me cry. In my office... at work. Nearly crying because of a sentence in an email having nothing to do with sports. If that doesn't feel like winning, I don't know what does!
Seriously, I've spent all but about a few weeks of my life training in the hopes of winning something. Whether it was soccer, jumping, or hammer in the early days or now in 2012 first it was 5 weeks of the CF Games Open with USAW Nationals thrown in for good measure. Then, immediately thereafter it became CF NorCal Regionals. And, suffering from temporary insanity (or possibly superhero disorder), I spent a few weeks in there also training for the Olympic Trials in Long Jump. I know. Unrealistic. But jumping 19ish feet after 10 years away from the sport gets a girl to dreaming!
The problem with winning in sports is there is a lot of sacrifice involved in the journey - declining fun social invitations, being away from family, enduring physical challenges, making consistently healthy choices, and more, yet these sacrifices have to be made with no guarantee that they will actually result in victory. In 2008 I watched in disbelief as one of the best throwers in the country, one of my heroes, failed to make the preliminary cut at the Trials after training for over a decade. She was without a doubt deserving of a spot on the Olympic team and she didn't even finish in the top 12.
That was part of why I quit throwing hammer, although obviously it's a complicated equation. I couldn't imagine spending four more years training, working and sacrificing - giving more than I was willing to give - if ultimately I couldn't be sure that I would win. For me the sacrifices required to win didn't match up to the likely outcome (to be a math nerd for a second: reward for winning * likelihood of winning = expected reward < necessary compensation for sacrifice). Now, on the flip side, even knowing that I may not ultimately perform as I expect or hope in a CrossFit competition, I'm willing to recommit myself to the life of a semi-professional athlete. The difference now is that the sacrifices I'm making as a CrossFitter and an Olympic Weightlifter are sacrifices I'm willing to make with no guarantee - even if I don't win I know that my life is better because of the quest.
Now, 10 days away from Regionals, even though I'm scared, every muscle in my body hurts, I'm exhausted, and I'm not sure I'm good enough, I haven't and won't quit because I believe that I will be better, having gone through this struggle. There's a good chance (probably most people think there is 100% chance) that I will not be competing in Carson in July - after all, I'm in NorCal, I only finished in 30th in the Open, and I am up against some really talented women. But, having trained, focused, and fought for this opportunity, I know that I am better than I was, and on some level I have already won.
My broken wing is almost as good as new - wanting to compete at an elite level provided an incentive to restore my arm completely, rather than accepting partial function as good enough. I am mentally stronger - I have shown myself time and again that I can fight through fear and pain, I can keep moving when my body says stop, and I can show up even when I don't want to. I'm struck daily by how difficult life can be at times, and I know that the strength I develop as an athlete carries over to strength in other areas - whether or not I compete well next weekend I will be better prepared to face obstacles which I'm afraid of later on in life. I may not win, but in working to win, I improved.
At this point in time I am doing lots of hard work. I hope this is what it feels like to be winning.
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