Fail.

I lean over, hands on my thighs trying to catch my breath and not freak out.

Try again.

Eyes forward, deep breath, quick hands, relax.

Fail.

Try again.

I glance up at the ceiling, close my eyes and release a stream of words that are highly undignified.

Try again.

Fail.

Compose myself. Try not to throw the jump rope across the room.

Try again.

Fail.

And that was just today. Don’t get me started on the snatch.

Why in the heck am I drawn to this sport? Three and a half years into Crossfit, I still experience deficiency, setbacks, and frustration that make me want to pull my hair out, almost every workout. Nothing about it is easy for me, yet I return over and over. What is it about Crossfit that makes me take a big breath and walk through the doors? This sport for which I have zero natural talent and which challenges me to the point of breaking?

First and foremost, it’s the people. In the words of Lis Darsh, they are my tribe. They are my best friends, mentors and coaches both inside and out of the gym. They encourage me when necessary and bitch-slap me when necessary. They’ve given me the best three years of my life and stuck with me through every up and down without fail.

But, on a more personal level, there’s something about taking on difficult challenges that fuels me with strength in my life outside of the gym. What do we gain from daring to pursue challenges in which we are not guaranteed to succeed?

For me, it boils down to three things:

1. Growth. Napoleon Hill said, “Strength and growth come only through continuous effort and struggle.” If I’m honest with myself, and not being too critical, I can look back at what I could do three years ago and see a tremendous change. I may not be able to complete all of the lifts or excel at the skills at the level that I desire, but I have come a looooong way. The only way to get here was through struggle and challenge. Crossfit has taught me that immediate success is not always guaranteed, but is built over the long-term through daily hard work.
2. Becoming less risk-averse and conquering perfectionism. I am an eldest child. I have lived my entire life avoiding risk that wasn’t calculated; and therefore, rejecting any opportunities that came my way in which I wasn’t sure of victory. I’m new to the “jump in with both feet” mentality, but it’s what I’ve been waiting for my whole life. Crossfit has pushed me to dive boldly into new adventure, whether or not I have a guaranteed outcome. I don’t always know if I will hit that clean and jerk, but I know that I most definitely won’t succeed if I don’t throw my entire body and mind under the weight. This mentality has served me well in my family, my horsemanship, and my relationships, and in my desire to try new things.
3. Tapping into unknown strength. In the culture in which I grew up, women were not supposed to be smart and strong. They were supposed to be subservient and quiet (thank goodness my mom wasn’t…she never could quite manage that life!). Crossfit has forced me to dig deep and find reserves of strength in body, mind and spirit that I didn’t know existed. In my gym, you don’t get a free ride by acting like a sissy. In fact, that will probably cause the coach’s sympathy to decrease and the work-load to increase. Early on, my coach Sam told me to pull my testicles out of my purse (charming, I know). I’ve never forgotten this. In many areas of my life, I was backing off when the going got tough. Wimping out. Passing blame. By forcing myself to stare at the barbell, knowing the only way it was getting lifted was if I did it, I learned to find tenacity and toughness inside myself. This has probably been the most life-changing lesson I’ve learned.

Crossfit isn’t for everyone; I get that. In fact, I probably lost half of my readership the second I brought it up. But there is something to be said for taking on a task or hobby that we find impossible, setting our hearts on the journey, and getting gritty with our methods. There’s a challenge out there for all of us, if we have the courage to open our eyes and look.

That jump rope will haunt me until I’m in a walker and can’t try anymore. But the strength and growth that comes from trying will stay with me as well, and that’s a price I’m more than willing to pay.