this year’s open, some self pity, and Coach has to double as a therapist again

So, the crossfit open. We’re almost through this year’s five weeks of competition, and I haven’t written one blog post on the topic. Certain readers are probably relieved about this after I inundated them with crossfit-open posts last year (ahem, my sister informed me that my blog would be more interesting if I write about normal things, so she could understand what I was talking about). But I need to at least acknowledge the open.

So here’s the deal. This year, I just don’t care. I really tried to at the beginning. L made me video my first WOD because she was hoping for the slim but possible chance of regionals qualification, and, bless her heart, refuses to acknowledge how much better she is than me. But I couldn’t get into it, because I felt like I wasn’t any good anymore. I’d been sliding down that slippery slope of fewer and fewer gains since before Christmas, and I couldn’t figure out what was going on. And love these people though I might, crossfiters have a tendency toward absolute positivity that is absolutely wonderful about 98 percent of the time. But that other two percent of the time …

When your performance is less-than-great over and over and over again, and everybody still tells you “great job” over and over and over again, it makes you wonder if maybe this is good. Maybe mediocre is the best you can manage. Nobody seems disappointed in you, so why would you be disappointed in yourself?

It’s funny how much difference one conversation can make.

“Yeah, I was wondering what’s going on with you lately. It seems like you’re struggling. But you know that’s all in your head, right?”

Poor Coach. We had started the perfectly normal conversation talking about I-don’t-remember-what, how I’m lousy at following directions, I think. He had no idea what he was in for. Thankfully, it’s not the first time I’ve succumbed to completely unnecessary tears in front of him. Or the second. I’ve lost count by now. In hindsight, “I’m getting worse at everything!” and, “All my friends are better than me!” may have been approaching the realms of hyperbole, but they summed up how I was feeling at the time.

Oh well, being a crossfit coach basically comes with the imperative that you must be able to deal with—or quickly learn to deal with—crying women. I KNOW I am not the only one here.

Anyway, that one conversation basically fixed me. It’s weird, that all I needed was for somebody to say, “I’ve noticed that you seem to be sucking at this lately, and that doesn’t seem like you.” All the positivity in the world couldn’t help as much as having somebody else acknowledge that there was a problem. I was finally back to feeling like I could accomplish anything I wanted to. Hooray!

For a week. Until I threw out my back doing 14.3 and shortly afterward got the flu.

I can still accomplish anything I want to. Just not right at this very second. Bring on the 2015 open; I think I missed it this year.

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