This morning as I was driving my kids to school, it was a whopping 11 degrees, but I knew that coming around the corner would be my guy. No, not my husband who is my real guy-guy. But my little-old-man-runner in shorty- shorts-guy. Every day I see this old man with his back bent from age, scoliosis, and probably lots of living, run by my house in shorts, not pants-but running shorts, a long sleeve shirt, a mask and mittens or socks for gloves. He has tape wrapped around his knees and he runs at a steady clip. And every time I see him, I am just a little more amazed. Fast forward fifteen minutes later as I dropped off my kids, I am driving to a friend’s house for Bible study and 2 miles down the road is my little man, same speed, still running in his shorts, and it is most definitely still 11 DEGREES. I guess I thought he might just freeze up at some point, but he just kept trudging away.
Tears well up in my eyes, seriously. I actually missed my friend’s street because I was too in awe of him. (if you know my love for the elderly you will understand this). I ended up having to turn around and pass him AGAIN. I know he is thinking, "why does this woman stalk me each day?"
I wanted to get out of my car, and just stand in the street cheering for him, but I don’t do well in this bitter cold, so my butt stayed in my heated seat and I rolled down the window with my choked up voice and said, "great job!" He yelled, “Thanks!”
I told a friend about my little-old-man-runner-shorty-shorts-man, and she said she used to run races with him. She said the only reason he is not in a wheelchair from his scoliosis is because he runs everyday. Every. Single. Day!
I have heard the phrase Compete every day….and it brings me back to this weekend.
This weekend I competed in a cross fit competition, with a sweet friend who is much stronger and younger than I as my team mate. I pick great partners! We ended up getting on the podium for 3rd place. I have never been on the podium before, for this sport. It was a great feeling of laying it all out there. But the way I felt about winning and competing now has definitely morphed from when I was younger. Competing, doing scary things, laying it all out there, it’s very different now.
My background is an athlete.
When I was younger, I only wanted to win. People called me scrappy, because that’s what they call little short people who will do just about anything to win. I loved winning, I loved competition. The feeling of facing an opponent and having to perform your best. I love. I am a gamer. I most always do better when I am in a big game, or when the competition starts. Even now, I know I will usually lift 10lbs heavier or be 30 seconds faster the day of the event. It’s just in my nature.
When I was in high school I competed because I loved to win, I loved to play, I loved to be the best, it was most likely a pride thing- to see my name in the paper, or to have people cheering for me. It was a high for me. I loved everything about all the games-because I played almost every sport. Basketball, volleyball, track, whatever the sport, the challenge to perform to the best of my ability was something I lived for.
In college, I loved competing for others on my team. I loved to see my team do well, and I wanted to make the people around me better. I still competed for myself, but I loved seeing our team win together as one. There was still jealousy, and comparison, when I didn’t perform at my best and someone else put me to shame-which I think is our human nature. But, I always felt accomplished and proud when we competed well together. I started to really understand the value of team and playing well for each other.
Fast forward to 15 years later. What is an athlete who loves to compete do, when college basketball is over and your 5’2 self ain’t playing in the WNBA? You will really miss the drive and competition.
I started to get into triathlons. Because it seemed like the thing that older athletes do to still train and compete.
I kind of liked it, but the monotony of training, biking, and running (which I loathe), and swimming every day bored me. I liked the actual competition day but the training was not my favorite. And if I don’t enjoy it, I am not going to love it, and won't stick with it for the long haul.
Then Cross fit came around and I loved the diversity of the movements, and the quickness of the AMRAPS, and the fact I could tap into my competitive drive at 37 years old. I still have all those things in me, that were in me before, when I was younger. My love to win, my desire to do my best, my excitement of making other’s better around me. But the purpose of competing itself is a bit different for me now in this season. In this season I am not just a competitor, but I bring the mom-ness to it.
Which isn’t better or worse, it’s just different. This win on the podium this weekend was more for my son Holden than me. Every competition he asks me if I medaled, which I say in return, “Bub, they don’t give medals for 10th, 36th, 7th, places.” And he looks at me like, Oh!- I know he knows I am doing my best, I know he sees me fail and try again, but I just wanted to win one for him. It’s funny how as a parent you really want to make your kids proud of you.
And it got me thinking…competition is really for everyone. Because I have seen it in so many different instances. Competition many times gets this negative connotation associated with it.
But to me being competitive, whether with the girl beside you, who is awesome, but who you want to do your best against, and then hug and congratulate her for kicking your tail, is different then the selfish type.
It’s the type that brings you to your best self, and even though you might get beat in that certain exercise or race, you really won, because you put yourself out there, did your best, and then respected yourself and also the person who was pushing you to be your best.
Competing can mean lots of different things to different people:
For my little- old-man-running-shorts guy, it might mean competition against another day. Showing up and saying, I may be old, and my body might be frailer then it used to be, but by golly I am going to run in this freezing cold, because it’s another day to feel myself. It’s another day I stay standing up and not confined to a wheelchair.
For the person with a disease or illness-competing and fighting for life and normalcy is their everything. Everyday fighting to feel themselves again, or to adjust to their new normal. I get to see this everyday with a loved one close to me. The running every day makes him, well-him, even when he doesn’t always feel himself.
It could be the mom that is competing daily to be the advocate for her kid’s health. Every day brings a new battle and a new fight. It takes everything in her to show up, be her best self even when she is so exhausted and hasn’t got the answers she so desperately needs.
Competing to you might mean competing with that voice inside you, that says you are not a good parent today, you failed your spouse, you will never be quite who you think you should be. You are never going to be enough. Competition against those voices can be an everyday battle.
You might be the one who runs from the thought of competition, but I hope you can look at it a little differently. Because competition means so much more to me, then what most people’s definition is.
My definition is my own. I hope you can see competition as selfless, the competition that makes you who you were meant to be- the one that helps fight to make others better-the one that gets you through the day. This competition is the beautiful one, and the one that all of us need to tap into.