We're Not Only as Good as Our Weaknesses

I had a CrossFit competition this weekend, and I didn’t get what I wanted, but I ended up wanting what I got. This story is not really about the competition. It’s about what it taught me, strength isn’t really about how much you lift, but how you relate to yourself when things don’t go your way

I had a crossfit competition this weekend, my second one ever and I wanted to share my experience.

About 6 months ago I decided to sign up for the crossfit RFA in Israel, well, more accurately, Tal decided he wanted me to sign up for the crossfit RFA in Israel. I hadn’t done proper crossfit or stepped into a crossfit gym in years, but I always continued to run and do crossfit type workouts in the gym regularly.

He knows I’m someone that works extremely hard in the gym and I have a deep love for exercise and movement. I love how I feel both during and after, feeling free, upbeat, dancing around, pushing myself, and feeling strong and capable.

If I am already putting in so much effort just for the love of it, and for myself, why not just see if I can qualify for the RFA and compete doing the thing I love?

At first I was so against it. I thought I’d never make it and I had so much fear around it. The deadline for the qualifying workout happened to be a few days after we had just returned to Israel from the US.

Every day I kept refusing to find a gym to go do it in, telling him there was no point because I wasn’t going to make it. The day of the deadline he told me, just go run to this gym near our house and ask them if you can do the qualifying workout there, and if you can I will meet you there to help you… and bring your CrossFit shoes for you.

Still super uncomfortable, hesitant, jetlagged from our trip, I ran to the gym. I remember I couldn’t even figure out which door was the right entrance. I felt so overwhelmed and embarrassed, feeling bad for not knowing Hebrew, feeling uncomfortable, seeing all these girls who seemed so much stronger than me. I called Tal crying, saying I can’t do this, it’s not for me, yelling at him for making me do this and pushing me too much.

Eventually Tal came to the gym (forgetting to bring my crossfit shoes of course). We walked in together and they said I could do the workout there. There happened to be two girls there at the time that had done the workout themselves, and were helping me out. One of them happened to be doing the qualifying workout with her trainee and offered to have me come do it with them. She helped me immensely, giving me tips, setting everything up for me, coaching me through it, and both of those girls really encouraged me throughout the workout.

I went home, put my score in, and watched as my spot crept down from 15, getting lower and lower and lower, until right before the deadline when it eventually hit 28, the last qualifying spot.

The First Competition Even after I qualified, leading up to it the whole time I was stressed. I went into it without following any program, being in the US for 3 weeks before the competition without going to a crossfit gym. My shoulder had been messed up for months and I didn’t do any chest to bar pullups, rope climbs, bar muscle ups, or ring muscle ups.

My weightlifting was (and still is) horrible. I tried to convince myself I didn’t care, hoping it would protect me from disappointment, but obviously deep down I did.

And of course, the whole time Tal was there by my side taking all of my pushback, grumpiness, bad moods, blaming him saying “why did you put me through this.” And he sat with me through it all, always believing in me, telling me I deserved it when I swore I didn’t belong up there with the other girls, always reminding me why I did.

During the competition there were chest to bar pull ups, rope climbs, ring muscle ups, heavy snatches, 1RM cleans, all of the things I was either terrible at or literally didn’t do at all in training. I also had no grips the entire time I was training and happened to buy them right before the chest to bar pull up event.

But every event I showed up and did my best, and truly, truly shocked myself. I tried RMU for the first time in months right before the event and kept failing them in the warm ups, yet in the workout I somehow was able to string together 3 or 4 at a time. The workout had heavy snatches and when I went to go do the first one I failed it, yet I just picked the bar right back up again and didn’t fail another one after that. I practiced my rope climbs for the first time right before the event and then was able to fly through them.

I finished in 10th place and I was so happy and proud of myself because I showed up through all of my weaknesses and shocked myself.

The Second Competition So this time around I had more expectations. I qualified for this next event in the first spot, so now I could really only go down from here.

I actually followed a structured program this time, I tried to work on my weaknesses, and I came into the competition feeling a lot more calm and confident in myself.

This time I didn’t make it to the final round. I ended up tying for the 5th spot and losing over the tiebreak.

When my friend (and trainer) asked what I"m taking away from this competition, I told her that I learned that “in CrossFit you are only as good as your weaknesses, and it’s so important to be consistent and well-rounded and I"m disappointed that I didn’t get to show my strengths.”

I read this message out loud as I sat with another friend of mine, and she said something that actually enabled me to take away the very lesson I needed from all of this.

“It’s true, but I think you are trying to say something else beneath it all. Yeah, being consistent is important, but maybe the fact that you show up, don’t break down, give it your all, and hit your PRs even when it is a weakness is your consistency.”

I’m terrible at rowing, yet I still finished among the top because I gave it my all. My snatches are terrible, yet I managed to hit my PR after doing a heavy workout with more snatches where I also finished in a good spot. I struggled so much with the step overs that I couldn’t even do them properly and then just figured out how to do them my own way and got through the workout and ended up finishing in a good spot.

It reminded me that in life we will always have our “weaknesses.” There is no way around this. Your weaknesses can become strengths, but only by our ability to still show up for ourselves in those moments when they are still weaknesses, because other weaknesses will always be there.

We can’t ever rid ourselves of these things and be perfect, but it’s not about that. It’s about not giving up on ourselves, not letting it break us, and doing the best we can with what we have.

Wanting What I Got It’s easy to beat yourself up, get down on yourself, think you could have changed things, but we can’t control everything. We can only control our reactions.

A friend once told me one of my favorite quotes I ever heard:

“Don’t ask yourself ‘how can I get what I want?’ Ask yourself ‘how can I want what I get?’”

We have the option to either get down on ourselves or find the lesson and the love in everything that comes our way.

By just telling myself “I need to work on my weaknesses and make them better,” I wasn’t actually learning and getting the most from what I was getting.

While initially disappointed that I finished in a tie for the final and lost on a tiebreaker, I feel so at peace. We have the option to get down on ourselves or the option to give ourselves love and take what we can out of things, and when we choose the latter, our ability to grow and be fulfilled in life expands exponentially.

I said “I’m upset that I didn’t get to show my strengths,” when in fact, I did get to show exactly that.

Perhaps they weren’t my literal physical strengths, but they were something much deeper and longer-lasting than that: the thing that enables you to continue to build yourself back up from any fall, even in ways you’ve never rehearsed.

The Real Lesson After my first competition I felt so amazing, so happy with myself, so proud of myself, and yet I finished in a “worse” spot than I did this one. I felt whole. I felt connected to myself.

The difference between my first and second competition wasn’t how I performed. It was how I related to myself.

The first time, I measured my success by how much I showed up for myself, and I shocked myself with how well I was able to do even in my weakest moments. It left me overflowing with pride, happiness, and love.

The second time, I still showed up for myself in those weak moments, but afterwards, I got down on myself for even having weaknesses. And that’s what changed everything.

Instead of walking away inspired, I walked away detached, unmotivated, and unable to see the beautiful lesson that was right in front of me.

I remembered something that I had somehow forgotten this time around: how much I showed up for myself despite my weaknesses. And that, I realized, is the most precious thing of all.

My strength, the thing that makes me a “creature,” that gives me the mental grit and heart to keep going, was never in being flawless. It was in showing up anyway.

It’s in loving myself and the process through the mess, the fear, and the doubt because it’s the very reason I was motivated to keep going, the very reason I signed up for another competition, the very reason I was able to feel so much happiness, and pride, and love for myself, the people around me, and the sport, and it’s the very reason I show up in the gym every day, dancing around, not because I have to, but because I genuinely want to be there — the true “creature” way.