Editor’s Note: In this three-part series, Morning Chalk Up Senior Writer Emily Beers documents her journey completing the Open workouts for the first time in eight years.
From 2012-2017, the CrossFit Open always had one thing in common for me: I always fell short of my expectations.
On the leaderboard, yes, but also, I always seemed to fall short of the time or reps goal I set for myself before each workout.
- I always thought this was a good thing. Isn’t it better to set high expectations for yourself?
To some degree, that makes sense, but at 41, doing the Open workout without any expectations, I realized that I had robbed myself of a lot of joy in my past Open experiences.
Honestly, I have deprived myself of much joy in every sport I have ever cared about.
When I look back at my competitive athletic career—I competed in gymnastics and track and field as a kid, played NCAA Division 1 college basketball, and was a university rower before finding CrossFit and competing at the CrossFit Games twice on a team and once as an individual in 2014—I spent more time frustrated and disappointed in myself than I did appreciating some pretty significant successes I had along the way.
As a rower, for example, I won the Canadian University Rowing Championship in the women’s eight. Still, I was more focused on not winning the pair that I never thought to celebrate winning the eight, not to mention winning a national championship banner with my university.
- That was always the story for me: Overlooking success because I had wanted more.
For the Open, I never found myself in the zone, just listening to my body and letting myself perform at my best. I was always focused on where I should be at any given point in the workout and often felt disappointed that I was falling short.
Today, older and wiser, I’m happy to report that I felt wholeheartedly satisfied, even proud, twice during this Open, once after 25.1 and especially after 25.3.
25.3
CrossFit Open 25.3 was a test of walks, rowing, and three barbell movements (deadlifts, cleans, and snatches).
I wasn’t really sure what to expect from myself, at least not on the barbell or wall walks.
On the rower, I knew exactly what I’d hold, but I wasn’t sure if my lower back would cause me to slow down on the barbell, and I definitely wasn’t sure how my wall walks would feel once I was fatigued.
Unlike in 25.1, I tackled 25.3 with a game plan.
I planned to do a wall walk every 15 seconds and gave myself two minutes for each barbell movement. If I took 3:20 for each 50-calorie row and factored in some transition time, I figured I could finish the workout in 19:30, under the 20-minute time cap.
3, 2, 1 Go: Fresh, I finished the first five wall walks well ahead of pace in just over 30 seconds. The row went as planned, and then I hit the deadlifts.
They felt good, and I broke them up as planned, using a descending rep scheme of seven, six, five, four, and three to make it mentally easier. But when I looked at the clock, I was well over a minute faster than anticipated at this stage of the workout.
That’s when I decided to throw my plan out the window and just listen to my body.
For the rest of the workout, I stopped calculating and thinking and got into the zone for the first time during the Open.
With my brain turned off, I just focused on quality reps and breathing.
When I got to the final row, I looked at the clock one more time, and I knew I would be well under my 19:30 expectation.
A little over three minutes later, I finished 25.3 in 16:53, a full two-and-a-half minutes faster than my goal.
- I was feeling exhausted and proud, and then my 18-month-old ran over to me and let me hug him for what seemed like five minutes.
My eyes welled with tears as if I were finally letting myself experience the joy I had never felt in all my years of taking sports seriously.
Here I am at 41, way less fit than I was seven years ago, not as strong or lean, and with some gray hairs coming in. But as I hugged Ozzie, still out of breath, sitting on the rowing machine, I realized how little those things matter.
- I realized how much richer my life is today than it was when I only cared about achieving athletic goals.
And it occurred to me at that moment that it doesn’t matter what level you’re at because that feeling of being proud of your effort—that feeling of exceeding your expectations of yourself—feels exactly the same.
Featured image: @keaathletics/Instagram
