So last night it happened. Someone's "after" reflected, on the outside, what so many of us "Losers" have safely and dangerously harbored on the inside, standing on a confetti-covered stage in all our spray-tanned, bleached-teeth glory.
Let me preface with this: Rachel (the winner of this season of "The Biggest Loser"), is not someone I know personally, and I clearly have no idea what her medical records say, as far as whether or not she is "healthy". Maybe she is. Maybe 105 lbs is the ideal weight for her, she's not dehydrated or exhausted, or mentally and physically drained. I really don't know, nor will I speculate.
Because this isn't about Rachel. This is about what Rachel, unfortunately for her, now represents.
I appeared on "The Biggest Loser" 7 years ago. It was a season of change- Alison Sweeney's first season hosting it, the first season with 3 trainers (Jillian, Bob and Kim), the first season NOT on a swanky ranch (nope- we were on a mosquito-ridden mental institution-turned-college-campus....not joking), and the season of Jillian's triumphant return. It was special, and it felt like it.
I was 21 years old, and had graduated college and moved 1300 miles away from all of my family and most of my friends to start a new life in Nashville. I was sad, homesick, and bored...disillusioned. Biggest Loser was an opportunity to escape that, and maybe create something new.
Prior to Biggest Loser, I actually felt pretty great about myself. I had ALWAYS struggled with my weight, and had had some temporary successes in years past, but never anything I was able to maintain. Despite being big, and knowing it, I also knew a lot of other important things about me: I was pretty (or at least "had a pretty face"...ugh. Hate that phrase), I was talented, I was smart, dynamic, interesting, loving, kind, generous. In short, my weight didn't define me. It was a small (pun intended) piece of who I was.
When I got to LA, I knew my weight would have to, by nature of the show, come to the forefront of my attributes. Yes, the casting directors were looking for someone who was all of the GREAT things I was, but first and foremost, they wanted to dig into the corners of my psyche and figure out WHY I was how I was (as in, overweight) and what physical and seemingly emotional transformation I could make in front of their cameras. I braced myself, knowing that insecurities, very private stories and emotions would undoubtedly be exposed to quite literally MILLIONS of people. "I'm strong enough" is what I'd repeat to myself. I'm strong enough to be exposed. I'm strong enough to be broken down, because at the end, I will be built back up. Surely I will.
My story played out on national TV, so I don't need to tell you the ins and outs of my Biggest Loser experience, which, for the record, was positive. The people that worked with us truly became friends. They cheered for us. They cried for us. But they didn't HELP us. Because...they were production assistants. Casting coordinators. People handlers. Producers. They were NOT therapists, family, nutritionists, caretakers. They were there to do a job, and truthfully, for them to NOT do their job would have been irresponsible.
But equally as irresponsible is the truth that now NBC and "The Biggest Loser" cannot escape. Contestants are broken down- their most revealing truths and deeply-seeded fears exposed, in the interest of making them "stronger". But strength, for some, is not always born in the wreckage. Contestants are trusting that they are being broken to be rebuilt, but the building doesn't come. Not from the show. Not from the way you expect it to.
I finished Biggest Loser at the thinnest I had ever been in my adult life. With an estimated 30(ish) lbs of extra skin, I went from 298 lbs to 185 lbs, from over 55% body fat to 24% body fat. I ran races for the first time. People stopped telling me I had a "pretty face" and started just telling me I was "pretty", or better yet "hot". I wore a size 10 dress and could shop wherever I wanted. I should have been flying high, and man, did I fake it well.
But while I'd been working my butt off on getting skinny (really- weight loss was my ONLY goal), I hadn't even thought about what the internal ramifications might be, and how drastically I was changing on the inside.
I knew as I got deep into the production of the show that my self esteem was rapidly diminishing. I sat for hours a week doing interviews or having filmed conversations about how "awful" it must feel to be the "black sheep" of my overly fit family. I had never felt THAT out of place until it was reinforced regularly that I *should*. I remember one day one of the people on production sat down with a group of us (pretty early on in the process) and said, "I just don't get it. Like...what do you even DO when you're overweight?". She/He literally didn't even view us as human. He/She had no inkling that I grew up climbing mountains, swimming competitively, took 7 years of dance lessons, and played for my high school soccer team. Conversations stirred up deeply personal issues- how the abandonment of my biological father "must have" been the cause of my never-ending struggles with my weight, how I "must have" used food to self-medicate through bad breakups or relationships, or struggles. How it "must have" been so hard to be SO close to being a "catch", but still be so "undesirable" because of the shape and size of my body. Internet message boards picked apart my every feature and action, and like a train wreck, I couldn't look away. I remember reading after the finale, "Isabeau looks like Portia De Rossi....only....bigger". AFTER the finale. Strangers would follow me around the grocery store and sometimes even stop me to tell me why I shouldn't put "that" in my cart.
I sucked it all up because I could see the finish line. I could see where I would be all of these things I was told I should want to be. "Limitless"-any opportunity I wanted or imagined would flow to me once I lost weight. I would finally "fit in" with my family that I had never felt like I didn't fit in with until I was told maybe I should. I would be "desirable". I would be whole, and complete and gloriously confident.
But that confidence never came. It never came because I didn't work on it. I felt like a failure standing on the stage at the finale because that's all I had been told I was, and I started believing it. It wasn't anyone's fault but my own. It was my own fault for allowing myself to believe the lies I was being told about myself, my fault for perpetuating them, and my fault for not getting help in dealing with them. What was demonstrated last night at The Biggest Loser finale, is nothing new. It's just the physical manifestation of what so much of us have felt internally- that we can never do, or be, enough. That we can never work too hard. Or lose too much. Or be too extreme. Because we seek and crave the resolution of all our dreams come true, that are seemingly hinged on whether or not we're skinny.
So, here's the truth, dear whoever-you-are. The only thing holding you back from anything is YOU. It is not your weight. It is not your finances. It is not your appearance. Well, actually, maybe it is. But not in the way you believe. Ambition and Success stem from the same root, and it has nothing to do with a number on the scale or any other "circumstance" in your life. It has to do with how you FEEL about life. How you FEEL about yourself. Are you worthy of being ambitious? Successful? Desired? Sexy? Strong? You are. You are at 300 lbs. You are at 100 lbs. You are $20,000 in debt. You are at 21 or 78 years old. You are worthy of all of those things the moment you believe you are.
After Biggest Loser, I spent several years trying to fill the void that was left when my confidence and self esteem was diminished. I sought that feeling of fullness in money and what money could buy, relationships that were inauthentic, and in choices that were guided by my mind, over my heart. I forgot who I was, and because of that, made decisions I never would have made.
There wasn't a day that things shifted, but things did. I felt like I was perpetually MISSING not just something, but someONE. And at some point, I woke up and realized that that someone was me. I missed me. I missed who I was, and all those wonderful things I had known about myself before weight became the most important thing in my world.
It's been a long journey to get back to me, and it's meant learning to trust people again. I was taught once that opening up and being "broken" will NOT always result in being rebuilt. I've had to start believing that that is the EXCEPTION and not the rule, and that, when you surround yourself with the right people, "tough love" truly is based in love, and is meant to expand you, not diminish you.
I would be lying to say that weight isn't something I still actively work on, worry about, and allow to define certain things in my mind. But I know now that it is a paper dragon. My weight, although something I work on now for longevity and health, is back to being just one, teeny, tiny part of a crazy, wonderful person. And lucky for me, it's a piece I can (and do) work on and change. My weight may be the most challenging thing for me, but how awesome is that? It's a lot harder to undo jealousy, or stinginess, or stupidity, or irresponsibility, or complacency than it is to take off a few pounds. If my weight is the worst thing someone can say about me, then I consider myself pretty lucky.
We need to stop believing and perpetuating the myth *someone* came up with that we all must be or do or look a certain way in order to be successful. Weight loss is one of the BEST examples of this because literally EVERYONE has a different opinion and experience about what works, what doesn't, what should, what shouldn't, etc. Every conversation about our body is laced with judgement. When will enough be enough?
The only answer is that you will have to put your foot down. I remember the night before my Biggest Loser finale weigh in, I had talked my "handler" into letting me go to the gym. I worked out for 2 hours and then went to sit in the sauna with my clothes on, to burn just a few more calories. My head spun and I felt weak, dizzy, awful. Sick. I got out. Enough was enough. I remember, conversely, gaining weight with my son and beating myself up that I was such a "failure" that even after having an opportunity to lose weight on national television, I couldn't keep it together. I knew I couldn't allow myself to live like that anymore. Enough, again, was enough.
Productivity starts where shame ends. I started seeing a therapist. I surrounded myself in people that (shockingly) ALREADY think I'm fun, and interesting, smart, pretty (as a whole), desirable, talented, strong and capable. I'm allowing myself to hear when someone says "You're a badass" or "Seriously... you're so good at xyz" or "Wow, you look great", instead of hearing "You're a badass (except for your weight)" or "Seriously...you're so good (except for your weight)" or "Wow, you look great (except for your weight)". Because it's not about my weight. In a size 10, I still heard the "ps" to every compliment I received, so I know it's not hinged on what people see... it's hinged on what *I* see.
My hope for Rachel, for every other BL contestant (past, present and future) and anyone else who is struggling (with weight- with anything) is that they start mining for their strength, instead of magnifying their weaknesses. That they can silence the "ps" in their mind that tells them they won't be enough "until this...", "until this...", "until this...". The word "until" is a vicious beast that will eat your dreams and stop you from achieving anything. You know what's on the other side of massive weight loss? Nothing. It's not about the weight. It's about the permission you give yourself to LIVE. To be worthy of a career you love, or a relationship that lights you up, or a path you've always wanted to explore.
This morning in reading the articles and seeing the pictures, I was sad for Rachel, who seemingly got lost in her "untils". Again, I don't know her, or this, but the physical sure looks depleted, so I would imagine the emotional would likely mirror that. But in my sadness for her, came gratitude to the people in my life. There has been one group of people that have more profoundly changed my outlook on fitness than any other: Crossfit Vector at Nashville Barbell. Joining this community was far and above the best decision (with the exception of having Beckham) that I've made in the past 5 years. This group of athletes come in all shapes, sizes and abilities, but share the consistent thread of unconditional support, true friendship and the ongoing pursuit of excellence in all things. Being in a healthy environment that promotes fitness and strength over purposeless, manic effort is the most refreshing experience I've had, and has shifted EVERYTHING in my life, but most importantly, my relationship and my value of my body- as it is, as it was, and as it will be. Pretty freaking amazing.
Beyond my hope for Rebecca is my hope for US. Can we learn from this? Can we start understanding that reality tv is not, in fact, reality? Can we stop exploiting peoples' weaknesses for entertainment? Can we stop being so darn judge-y and just kinda love each other for what we are, as is? I think in allowing that, and by just accepting and loving, we create the opportunity for people to feel what THEY really want for themselves, instead of projecting what they THINK someone else wants FOR them.
There is no gift more precious than giving yourself and others permission to live how they see fit. To be beautiful in their own skin. To love who and what they love. To be worthy and enough. I hope we all can take this bittersweet lesson that simply exposed truths, and turn it into a revolution of caring about more than a number on the scale.
I read an interesting article today on "Skinny Privilege" and "Fat Shame". I'll try and find the link and put it below in the comments. It spoke about how larger women in America are shamed for their bodies by society AND have the internal body image issues of hating their bodies, while skinny women, although sometimes insecure, only have to deal with the latter issue, because the standard of beauty in America is to be thin.
I'm sorry...but how is this still even a thing? How are we still feeling victimized by our bodies? How are we still allowing society guidelines to govern our worth? How are curvy ladies looking at skinny chicks saying "You don't understand!" and skinny chicks are still insistent upon shouting "yes I do! See?! I HAVE CELLULITE TOO!".
Woah. We all need a nap. Who here loves their body? Like- LOVES their body? Wouldn't change a hair on their head. Wouldn't wish for longer, thicker hair, or sleeker thighs that don't touch, or more muscular thighs that DO touch, or more defined arms, or less bulky arms, or a flatter tummy, or curvier hips, or larger breasts that fill out a shirt, or smaller breasts that don't hurt when going for a run? Who here looks in the mirror and says, "Day-um. God (and me+spray tan+highlights+makeup+well-fitting, stylish clothes+a deeply embedded sense of self esteem/egomania) have done an A-M-A-Z-I-N-G job". Anyone?
Yeah, didn't think so.
There was a time I used to push myself to go to the gym. Before an iphone or an ipod with pictures existed, I would load up on Glamour or Cosmopolitan magazines and find the body I envied most to display on the elliptical as I pedaled towards my "dream body"- the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. The flat abs, perfectly designed curvy hips and not-too-big-not-too-small-never-saggy chest, the long, sinewy, just-defined-but-not-bulky arms and legs. It didn't matter what my body looked like as it was "under construction" because I was headed for Barbieville...and it would feel SO good when I got there. I would be rewarded when I arrived with bountiful self-love and short shorts and bra tops. Ah...it would be bliss.
And then I went on Biggest Loser. And (as I found out after FINALLY collecting my medical records this week) I actually got down to 26% body fat! WHAT?! That's considered fitness-level body fat for a woman. But I didn't feel "fit". Because despite being 113 lbs lighter than when I started, none of what I ordered was on my table in front of me. I didn't look like Barbie. To me, I looked like I always had...just smaller. I didn't recognize an ounce of my own progress because what I saw standing naked in the mirror was not the girl on the cover of Cosmopolitan that I had aimed for. It was still just me.
The problem in our society is not that we are fat and that's unacceptable, or that we are thin, and that IS acceptable. The bigger issue is that we are trained to believe that being simply OURSELVES is not enough. If we're thin, we want someone else's fill-in-the-blank (hair, eyelashes, lips, hips, boobs, etc). If we're fat, we want someone else's everything. What's the deal? How is it so bad being ourselves?
Here's the thing: When we're growing up, we're taught what we're supposed to look like, and what we're supposed to act like...but we're never told what we should FEEL like. We're taught to work hard, but because it's the right thing to do... NOT because it feels SO good to succeed. We're taught to play sports or be active, but it's often because it's good for socialization's sake, or because we're supposed to, not because of the incredible feeling of accomplishment, and the high of physical activity. We act and look a certain way, because that has standards; a blueprint we've watched adults follow for generations, and something we can adhere to. But feeling is sticky, and hard to explain, so as adults, we don't bother trying, and as children, we never learn the overwhelming value how we FEEL about ourselves, our bodies, and our choices, should have in our lives.
I FEEL strong when I lift weights or do something physically challenging. I FEEL sexy when a man honors and cares for my body (or when I do!). I FEEL important when I get dressed up and make an effort to look nice. I FEEL included when I'm easily able to do things like go on long walks or hikes, travel, kayak, or something else that requires me being physically fit. I FEEL beautiful when, magazines aside, I look in the mirror and realize, flawed as it is, my body is a road map of every choice I've made in the past and all the choices I'm making now. And I FEEL privileged and proud when I realize my legs or arms are firmer, or my body is sore from being challenged. I FEEL gorgeous and accomplished when I am lying in a pool of sweat, half covered in chalk, with runny mascara, and bruises. GORGEOUS.
And you know what? When I feel all of those amazing things- the other stuff just doesn't matter. The flat abs, and long, flowy hair and perfectly curved hips-- they're just not as important. Does it mean I'm immune to wanting them EVER? Absolutely not. But when I shift the emphasis away from them, I fall in love with where I am, and where I- MYSELF- am driving my body to. Because, I wouldn't in a billion years wish for flat abs and perfect breasts if it meant NOT experiencing the feelings I already am experiencing-- imperfections and all.
America- our bodies are not the problem. Our bodies are strong, and capable of doing ANYTHING we ask of them. And you know what? Society is not the problem. Judgement of others is not the problem. The problem is our own distribution of love. We're worshiping the abs of one person, the quads of another, and have NOTHING LEFT TO GIVE OURSELVES.
It sounds so trite to preach the "love yourself before you can expect anyone else to" message, but it's so true. At my lightest- 26% fitness-level body fat- I couldn't look at myself in the mirror. There are probably less pictures of me then, than at any other point in my life (minus the whole being-on-tv thing). I can't say I was a big fan of mine at my heaviest, either. But what I've come/am coming to realize is that my value in myself has nothing to do with what I look like or what I weigh. It has EVERYTHING to do with how I think about myself, and, in accordance, how I treat myself.
Working out used to be something I shamed myself into: "Get to the gym or be fat forever and die alone". Woah. I wish I were kidding.
Now, when I go workout, my inner dialogue goes something like, "Woohoo. We're going to the gym and TODAY is going to be the day you're going to master double unders. You're such a bad ass". My coach jokes that despite my (very verbal) hatred for running, I smile when I run (I mean, not all the time...but often). It's because now, when I run, I say "Woah... ok. This actually feels BETTER than it used to." or, worse case scario, "Ok- you've done 2 laps... 2 more and this will be done and that's incredible and you're such a rock star".
Today I woke up 2 lbs heavier than I was yesterday (yeah, I weigh myself everyday, and yes, I know it's water weight, blah, blah, blah), and something like that could have, and would have before, sent me for a serious shame spiral. But ironically, I've been catching myself *strutting* the whole day, thinking how awesome I am.
I don't know how I transitioned to a healthier place, so I can't write a guide book. But I can tell you what I have had to avoid, and will always avoid:
Lastly, can we all agree none of this matters? Let me rephrase: None of this matters to anyone worth it mattering to. Sure, are their snotty 13 year old girls on the beach that have never seen cellulite that are going to "fat shame" you? Yes. There ALWAYS will be. But their day will come. And who cares about them anyway? There is no smart, accomplished, sexy, strong, driven, ambitious person on this earth that is worth your time that would allow your body shape or size to play a determining factor in how they treat you or if they will allow you into their lives. That's 8th grade crap, and adults who are happy with themselves are too busy working towards their own goals to belittle you for not fitting into some ridiculous, abstract, ever-changing standard.
Find people that hold you to a standard of feeling, AND seek it out for themselves. Stop talking to girl friends who want to wear a size 2 and start talking to girlfriends who want to run a marathon, or hike a mountain or do a crossfit competition. A size 2 isn't a real thing. It's not a feeling. I've been my "perfect size" and you know what I felt? NOTHING. I've also been an imperfect size and felt awesome, accomplished, beautiful and hot. Stop talking to men (or women) who are only interested in you when you're skinny (or whatever) and start talking to men who think you're awesome for the work you do, the ideas you have, and the confidence you exude. You become who you are most often with, so choose wisely...and then, when you're alone, get to know YOURSELF and fall the eff in love. At the beginning and end of our lives, it's ultimately you and you alone. People and relationships are the colors of our world, for sure, but we create the lines and spaces in which they fill. If you don't find a reason to fall in love with you, as you are, as you've been, and as you will be, you will be spending the rest of your life- UNTIL YOU DIE- waiting for someone to do for you what only you can do for yourself.
So skinny privilege, fat shame....who. cares? The only person that owes it to you, to LOVE you, is YOU. So, get on that. You're pretty awesome, after all. ;)
Warning: I'm about to do it. Be "that" crossfitter. The Kool Aid drinker. The "Zumba doesn't count as exercise" person.
This is going to be about crossfit (for me), but it's more about life...and the lessons I've learned through almost a year of challenging myself physically, emotionally and mentally via Crossfit, and the incredible relationships I've built. For you it might even be (*shudder*) Zumba, or spin, or whatever, but here it goes:
1- Commit. Commit, or don't do it at all.
Crossfit has taught me commitment on both small and large scales. Let's go big first, because that's obvious. The only valid excuse I've EVER heard about why someone won't even give Crossfit a try is that it's expensive. It is, when you compare it to a traditional gym membership. Even if you recognize that it's a STEAL in comparison to 5-6 day a week personal training, it doesn't necessarily mean that you can cough up $150-$200 a month. So, if you decide you're going to Crossfit, and make that investment month in and month out, you better be committed. If you're not going to show up- even when you're sore, even when you're tired, even when you're busy, sick, etc- or you're going to go off the grid with your nutrition on a regular basis- you might as well take the money for your membership, Nanos, and Lulus and throw it down the drain. Crossfit demands that you show up and make it count to get your money's worth.
On a smaller scale- Have you ever seen an Olympic weight lifter look like they were phoning it in for a clean and jerk? Have you ever seen someone successfully PR a snatch when they were "just not feeling it"? No? That's because it's impossible. Every day, with every lift and torturous burpee, Crossfit reminds you that you either need to get your head in the game, or you need to get your head in the game. There's no alternative. There's no "kinda". Even with scaled, you scale to what you're capable of, and then you attack it with all that you have. Because if you don't, you're using time to progress, as time to just exist. And existing is free- you can do it anytime. Don't use gym time to not give a shit.
Life lesson: Commit. Show up where you're supposed to show up, when you're supposed to show up, HOW you're supposed to show up. If you think you're fooling anyone (most of all yourself) by half-assing your way through your life, career, relationships, etc, you're not. And if you can't help it- you're not happy and you just HAVE to phone it in- it's time to reconsider whatever's left you feeling that way and make a new plan that you can be passionate about.
2- Get a Good Teacher
Before Crossfit, I'd like to think I knew a lot about working out. I had spent a year training under Jillian Michaels. I had always been active. But, my knowledge had a beginning and an end point. No one knows everything. Most people actually know very a frighteningly small amount about their bodies and how to use them, exercise them, or change them. We all need help. The best coaches I've had are also those who are the best students- they thirst for knowledge. They seek it out. They listen. They learn. They mess up and they re-calibrate and learn from their mistakes. The best coaches do not yell commands- they explain technique, they internalize goals, they invest in you. My coach knows the nuances of my strengths, weaknesses and personalities- almost embarrassingly so. He knows when I shoot him an evil glance that he should laugh at me, but maybe shouldn't do that to the girl I'm working alongside. He knows when to remind me of my "why". He knows that he will have to remind me 400 billion times to rotate my shoulders the right way whenever I have a bar over my head. And beyond knowing me, he knows his stuff. He knows how body mechanics work. He knows the role nutrition plays in athletes and normal people. He just knows stuff. It's reassuring. It's inspiring. And it allows me to focus on my training and intensity, rather than wondering if the person I'm allowing to lead me knows what the heck he's talking about.
Life Lesson: You don't know everything. Surround yourself with people that know more than you and allow them to show you. There's a time and place to be a leader, a teacher, and there are more times than not to be a student. When that time comes, be a good one, and learn something.
3- You're going to fail.
This is the greatest thing I've learned in the last 10 months of Crossfitting. In the past 10 months, I've been to 2 weddings, I've been on 3 vacations, I've celebrated countless birthdays, parties and just-because events where I missed workouts. I've gone off the grid with my food on more occasions than I'd like to admit (at least once a month!) and have not had a month go by where I haven't indulged in ice cream. I've seen my scale go up and down and up again. Not by much, but by enough to temporarily freak me out. I've gone for a 200 lb front squat (twice) and have dropped the bar. Same thing with a 133 lb clean and jerk. On more than one occasion, the clock of a time cap has beaten my abilities. And you know what all that means? Nothing. It means I've woken up the next day to try again. I haven't beaten myself up over my affair with Ben and Jerry's. I haven't shamed myself into never going for a 200 lb front squat again. No. I mess up, and I don't judge myself for it. In fact, I don't judge myself for what I do RIGHT, either....What I judge myself for, and praise myself for, is my ability to try again. Do better, streamline efforts, try harder. Because even though the scale has jumped around, I've still lost 50 lbs in 10 months. And even though I *still* haven't hit 200 lbs with my front squat, I've PR'ed my original front squat in January 2013 by 85 lbs, and ultimately (soon), I WILL get to my goal body weight and I WILL hit the physical milestones I'm aiming for. It just won't be a straight line from point A to point B. And it will require the decision to constantly get up and try, try again.
Life Lesson: Failure is your friend, and it isn't something to be ashamed of. If you're not failing at something, you're just not aiming high enough. You should be failing every, single day. EVERY. DAY. Otherwise you're staying still.
4- There's no such thing as "overnight success"
I get so aggravated when I see posts of people who started Crossfit 5 months ago, lost half their body weight, and are back squatting double their original body weight. I mean, good for them, but those people are anomalies. They're the exception to the rule. The rule, is that good stuff takes time. You don't build your body overnight. You don't improve your weaknesses overnight. You don't go from never picking up a barbell to having perfect form overnight. The weight loss industry is a multi-billion dollar industry for a reason: Everyone wants a quick fix. No one is immune to the fantasy of Biggest Loser style weight loss (hellloooo), or Rich Froning level results. But "Biggest Loser" is a tv show, not a diet. Contestants are separated from everything (temptation, especially) for months, and worked out 5-7 hours a day to get those results (which are not necessarily healthy). Rich Froning is PAID to be a Crossfit athlete. He doesn't just show up for a 1 hour WOD and look and perform like that. He's said in interviews before that competitions (Crossfit Games included) are like "rest days" in comparison to what he does on a daily basis. The majority of us have jobs, families, and lives that we balance with Crossfit...and that's ok. Your results will show up after days and days and weeks and weeks of commitment, and only then. If you get there sooner, consider yourself lucky....the exception to the rule.
Life lesson: You want something? Good. Start working for it and never stop. Almost never will the effort NOT pay off in some way shape or form. And if it doesn't, then you get to say with 100% conviction that you literally did everything you could. Look around at your friends that you consider successful in any area of their life. They don't get there by magic or luck (most of the time). They get there by doing what the majority of us talk about doing, but never put to action. Put action behind your convictions and know that if it's important to you, it's not a "months" long project: It's a forever kinda thing. Want to be in love? Fall in love EVERY day for the rest of your life. Want to have a killer body? Commit to working out and eating right EVERY day for the rest of your life. Want a flourishing career? Consistently challenge yourself, perform and accept responsibility EVERY day for the rest of your life. Big things will happen, but it'll be slow. The time's gonna pass anyway, so you might as well get comfortable being uncomfortable while you bust your butt day in and day out so you have something to show for it at the end.
5- It's all about the people
Humans are pack animals. We're tribal. Even loners and introverts need some form of socialization, interaction and all-out love. If you're going to do all of the above- commit, learn, fail, succeed- you're going to want to do it around people. Why? Because, in relation to Crossfit, some days, the people are the only reason I go. A LOT of days, the people are the only reason I succeed. If I'm tired or sore or <insert excuse here> but I know so-and-so will be happy to see me, or vice versa, I'll show up. And almost inevitably, if I show up, I'm going to give my all. The showing up is almost always the hardest part. If your "tribe" is waiting for you, it makes it the easiest part. On days when you show up on your own, but can't seem to light your fire, your "tribe" inspires you to keep going. Like a good coach, they know when to push you forward (and how), and they know when to encourage and support you. I don't know that I've ever met one human that excelled (I'm talking above and beyond their own expectations) long-term without the help and support of others. You'll start for yourself. You'll keep going for results. You'll stay for the people.
Life lesson: See the bold above. That goes for any and everything in your life.
As always, if you're in Nashville and interested in becoming a member of the "tribe" I am THRILLED to belong to, and train under the coach I am HONORED to learn from, visit www.nashvillebarbell.com