2. belonging & self-worth
In my original post I stated the three teachings of CrossFit that heal us. Number two is:
Our senses of belonging, self-worth, and our worthiness of love, need not have anything to do with the roles we serve for others in our lives, nor to do with our productivity or efficiency.
A lot of people think that CrossFit is only for fit people, or that every day is a day you have to train like you're competing. That's not true - and if the box you visit implies that it's true, it's probably not a great box. Great boxes are full of diversity - in racial identity, age, types of work, fitness, experience, and goals. Some athletes are there to try to improve their mobility to improve their chronic pain. At my current box (shoutout CrossFit Postal fam), those athletes work out alongside athletes who place in the top 10% in the CrossFit Open workouts. That's how CrossFit is supposed to be. Inclusive, welcoming, warm, and nonjudgmental. From day one, the organization has not only included and tolerated, but celebrated women and people with different abilities in fitness training (and as of 2021, adaptive is included in competition at the Games).
Let me be clear when I say that your job when you show up to the gym is not to kill yourself. My perception of the gym is that it is a playground. A place for joy and curiosity and to see what your magnificent body might be able to do today - and to ask what it really needs. Because CrossFit is infinitely scalable and adaptable, you can modify workouts to whatever your needs are that day, or whatever you're working towards. The first few times you have to do this, you might feel "less than". But you do the workout all together with your friends, and high-five each other the exact same, for a job well done.
Completing a workout worth celebrating does not require pushing past your energetic, emotional, or physical capacities.
Why do we ask this of ourselves this in daily life and work before we give ourselves the credit we are due?
We learn this (or at least I did), uniquely, at the gym. I did not learn this in medical school (woof), where my peers not only tolerate being abused, they celebrate it and brag about it on a daily basis. In 2022, when I was injured and unable to complete workouts the way I wanted to - the way I used to be able to - I wondered if people at the gym would respect me, if my coach would keep coaching me the way they used to. Guess what? They did. And I realized that the love I get from my gym family and my coaches is for me, exactly as I am, however I am that day. That love isn't contingent on my performance in a workout. It has NOTHING to do with efficiency, productivity, people-pleasing, serving others, or publicly displaying badges of exhaustion or overwork or overtraining. We don't celebrate any of that at the gym.
Learning this in the gym has enabled me to spread this out into the other parts of my life. To love others fully and without judgment, without condition. To understand that as human beings, we need love, affection, connection, and a sense of belonging. Community is medicine. This aspect isn't written into the daily WOD, but I giggle thinking about how it could be. WARM UP: ask your pregnant friend how the growing is going; WOD: getting updates on your other friend's recent trip helping with disaster relief in Texas; CASH OUT: cooldown walk to check in with the athlete who recently lost a family member. We do this just because it's part of the fabric of the community of a box. And it matters just as much as the reps we put in (perhaps even more).