Last week I blogged about my first year of CrossFit and the various “PRs” (personal records) and improvements I’ve seen in my physical fitness. From hating burpees as much as I love Slurpees (okay, I actually dislike Slurpees, but it rhymed) to completing a 5K in the amount of time it takes to watch an episode of The Big Bang Theory, I’ve become a believer in the power of intense, varied, seemingly randomized WODs.
Just days after posting my celebratory CrossFit reflection, I agreed to let my encouraging husband sign me up for a CrossFit competition taking place in early November. In one week’s time, I’ve gone from pumped up and proud of my progress to, well, this…
I’ve already offered my spot to one of the athletes we coach, and the reason is simple: I’m scared. Scared I will come in dead last place. Scared I won’t even be able to do one rep of some of the more technical movements and lifts, such as snatches and double-unders. In the video below, you’ll get a glimpse of both:
Did I mention I’m competing in the Scaled division? That’s right. I, a CrossFit coach and co-owner of a CrossFit box, am literally not fit to compete in the Standard division, which, by definition requires that I be proficient at each of the Olympic and gymnastic elements of CrossFit, and also perform ninety-five percent of my box’s workouts “Rx.” 
What if I, a CrossFit coach, an owner of a CrossFit box, get last place in the scaled division? I’d lose all credibility and respect from the athletes I train. I’d have to become the box’s janitor, and I’m worse at cleaning work spaces than I am at cleaning barbells off the ground.
May I just interrupt my own train of thought and exclaim just how thankful I am for the Word of God? It’s what annihilates those malignant feelings of fear and replaces them with soul-refreshing, mind-renewing truth. It’s what transforms my childish tantrums into level-headed discussions acceptable in the presence of adults and well-trained dolphins.
“For you did not receive a spirit that makes you a slave again to fear, but you received the Spirit of sonship. And by him we cry, ‘Abba, Father.’” –Romans 8:15
If I let them, the “What If” questions my brain poses would paralyze me. In my spiritual walk with the Lord, there have been countless times when I’ve questioned His will, wanted to ignore it, even slam the door on it and stomp off saying, “I just choose not to do that, God!” But I’ve learned, often the hard way, that my flesh – my brain and my emotions – are pathetic life planners! God, on the other hand, has each of my days planned out, as He has from the very beginning (Psalm 139:16). He has an awesome adventure, replete with sparkling oases and treasure chests buried along the way, mapped out for every one of us. We just have to take His hand and let Him guide us through the storms, the winds, the roaring waves, to the exquisite islands where “X” marks the spot.
This CrossFit competition is just another adventure. It’s going to challenge, build, and better me, not discourage, define, or destroy me. Whether I do great and crave more of the sport, or have to beckon my husband to come pick me up from a fetal position next to my barbell, it will be an experience that stretches me and offers a taste of the competitive side of the fitness lifestyle I’ve come to love and share with just about everyone I meet. The Word of God says it best: it’s the trials that make us “mature and complete” (James 1:4)!
 “WOD” stands for “Workout of the Day”
 “Rx” simply means that you did the WOD as prescribed, or as programmed, by your coaches. For example, if the workout was 3 rounds: 12 35-lb kettlebell swings, 10 24-inch box jumps, and 8 65-lb overhead squats and you didn’t have to modify by using a lighter weight or shorter box, you’d get an “Rx” by your name on the whiteboard, and walk away beaming that you earned it!