There have been plenty of triggers over the last few months that are worthy of inspection, reflection and sharing – but I’ve been perfectly happy sweeping them under the rug, polishing the floorboards, and presenting a tidy and uncluttered house.
There was the Masters League competition that I got an ego kicking in, not to mention the roller-coaster impact of leader-boarding on my Psyche. Various new box, new coaches, new people challenges and wins, as well as angsting over whether or not to decline a competition invite.
The ostrich strategy appeared to be working though, and life was ticking along nicely. I was making some good gains in the box, had a fantastic holiday with my boyfriend lined up, there would be a good few weeks before the next competition and I was feeling good.
I got sick – one week out from a two week vacation – not really ill, but sick enough I couldn’t train. It started playing on my mind; this now means I am having three weeks off , I’m going to lose a lot in three weeks… Nothing I could do about it though, and I wasn’t about to interrupt our holiday with training. Between work, my crossfit obsession and general life, the two of us don’t get a lot of time to just hang-out together during the year – so holidays away are treasured, crossfit takes a break, and we spend quality time together.
The holiday was fabulous! Relaxed time together, great sights, adventures, amazing weather, obligatory handstands, genuine fun – and food…so much food.
As soon as we hit the ground in Christchurch we both agreed we needed to get nutrition back on point; a few weeks without takeaways and desserts was in order. I vowed that I wasn’t going to weigh myself, but would take ‘progress’ photos instead – much better for my headspace. I hit the gym.
Let the mind games begin…
Day One and I was nervous about even turning up – everyone would notice how fat I was and how lazy I must have been. Queue epic fail (thankfully not a physical injury) on box jumps so the whole class notices my lack of co-ordination. I felt as though all my fitness, strength and skills had disappeared.
Day Two and I am still very conscious of the change in body composition and worry about what I am going to wear, but I start to get back into the swing of things. Fitness still feels woeful, and strength and skills are AWOL, but I am at least getting some co-ordination back.
Week Two and it’s all still feeling rough. Then I have a WOD that I have scaled to what I think is reasonable for me post-holiday. It is a grind. I take big rests. I don’t finish. And I don’t cope well. It takes a lot to not burst into tears. I beat myself up about it for the rest of the day – both for my efforts, and for my reaction.
I weigh myself.
I start stressing over food. I eat what I’ve planned to, but I am still hungry and don’t know what I should eat – so don’t. Now I am hungry, tired, grumpy, listening to the inner voice that tells me I’m fat and therefore ‘less’, and I realise the Crossfit Open is right around the corner, and another big competition is only 3 weeks away.
I’m unsure about even signing up for the open, me now feels like less than me last time – so even if I do manage to leave my ego at home, me Vs me is not going to come out on top, and is not going to be good enough.
I’m battling. I keep turning up, but I am battling.
I have a meltdown during lifting – things were actually going pretty awesome, then I put 40 kg on the bar. I baulked. I baulked again. I dropped the weight down. I baulked again. My coach had a word; I competed the lift, but I didn’t celebrate, I dropped my head, criticized myself, and walked away defeated.
I was, quite rightly, called out on my attitude – but it stung, I wasn’t in a place I could take it constructively, and I broke down. Not a proud moment. Not how I want to react.
I kept turning up, but also kept telling myself I wasn’t in a good headspace, and still didn’t actually do anything to change it. I figured if I put in the physical work, the headspace would come right. To some extent it did. I had a couple of small personal wins, I asked for help with my nutrition, and I started feeling better. Just enough that I could go back to glossing over it and not have to actually work on it. I sign up for the open, because that’s what someone who has got it together would do. Not signing up would suggest I still had work to do on my mental game.
The Open starts tomorrow.
Crap. This is going to sting.
Average Crossfit Junkie 