In 2011, I learned about the CrossFit Open after doing CrossFit in a very unfocused way for a few years. The first workout of double-unders and snatches at 75 lbs. I could have struggled through, but after that one, all of the weights listed seemed like a pipe dream. Loadings that are now commonplace, like overhead squats at 120 lbs. were not in my world of possibility back then.

Knowing you can't accomplish the minimum amount to enter a competition, let alone be competitive in it is a dose of reality we tend to avoid. I always think back to one of the first running races I signed up for, and one of my non-runner friends asked - "are you going to win?!" It seems like a reasonable question, I mean why enter something if you don't think you can win? I laughed at the idea of entering to win and moved on. Entering activities that you know you will win is like repeating the second grade over and over because you were good at it. Sure you will be the best, but that doesn't mean you're getting better.

Entering activities that you know you will win is like repeating the second grade over and over because you were good at it. Sure you will be the best, but that doesn't mean you're getting better.

Bet here we are, it's my fourth year of entering the CrossFit Open and each year it becomes more and more difficult to even win within my own gym (I did not), let alone the entire CrossFit community. This post is not about me giving up, or being realistic with my abilities. It's about priorities.

Every year in CrossFit, I learn a little bit more. I learn bad habits I've developed or additional exercises I should adopt. I learn what amount of volume my body can handle or when too many rest days become a pattern and not a decision. As a trainer, it's becoming even more apparent that the amount of time I have to devote to CrossFit could be used to help many get to a certain level of proficiency or I could use that amount of time to focus on myself being able to get a few more reps each year.

I am the 50th percentile... I can have confidence that my "average" score will be something to strive for in the eyes of new members, and a pacing benchmark for experienced members.

I've decided that my scores are a piece of data and nothing more. It's a good indication of my areas of weakness, and (sometimes) my areas of strength. The best thing the Open has done for me though is reinforce that I am the 50th percentile. In a school setting, that would mean I get a C. In grad school, that's failing out. But for me, in CrossFit it's a green light. Because what does the 50th percentile mean? It means as someone who helps to decide the workouts at our gym, when I complete a series of workouts, I can have confidence that my "average" score will be something to strive for in the eyes of new members, and a pacing benchmark for experienced members. It will give an idea if a workout is too long or too short, too heavy or too light. Eventually, with hard work, I've been able to complete those first workouts from Open 2011. And if I can do it, I know that some people will get those abilities faster, some slower. But everyone can get there, because if an average guy can get there, anyone can get there. To me, that is a beautiful thing.

Now does that mean I don't want to get better? Hell no. No one wants to end a workout on the floor in a puddle of sweat only to look and see that 60,000 people did better than them. But it means that as I improve every year, so does the rest of the growing CrossFit community. Staying in a consistent percentile each year is as much of a challenge as climbing a few spots. In 2013, I didn't get a muscle-up in the Open. In 2015, I got a muscle-up along with the 10,000 other people who had the same score as me in that workout of 2013. I improved, but so did many others, and that's OK. There are moves and techniques that I will work on in an effort to be a better trainer. If that makes me a better athlete (and it should), then that's a bonus.

My priorities right now are being fit enough to not worry about day-to-day trials like sprinting up an escalator to catch a train, helping friends move and not being laid out the next day, or knowing that if I try a new sport like rock climbing or more competitive cycling, I do not have to start from scratch. Fit enough so that my only worry in preparing for a 3-day hike is how the altitude will affect me, not whether my legs will be sore. But mostly I want to be fit enough to make other people curious enough how they can begin their own health journey and maybe inspire them along the way.

Average? Why thank you.