The 2013 Reebok CrossFit Games Open is over and I can return to my normal life. No more impossible challenges, no more guilt and no more competition. The latter was what really bummed me out.
You see, I’m okay with the intensity of CrossFit and can deal with the mental strain that comes with the ridiculous workload, but the constant dick measuring is a real problem. I believe that pain is a personal burden, and am more than happy to wade through the seven circles in my own headspace. But when you add measurables and leaderboards into the equation, it all goes south.
It’s not that I’m not competitive, but more the resentment towards other humans that comes with competition. When you’re racing someone and, despite all your best efforts, they beat you, there’s always a sour taste. And with each defeat that taste intensifies until it consumes your senses. That’s what I don’t like.
At my gym I’ve started a rivalry with a really nice guy who is roughly the same build and height as me. He has no idea of our duals and is suspiciously pleasant whenever we interact, but in my mind he’s a bit of an asshole.
I hate his over-friendliness, as if he’s taking pity on me when he beats me in a wod. I despise the effort he puts in, doing cool-down workouts after class like some sort of teacher’s pet. Most of all I loathe the fact that he doesn’t take the competition as seriously as I do, but still manages to pip me past the post with infuriating regularity.
Are my feelings irrational? Yes. That’s the problem with a competitive environment, it stirs up primitive responses and turns the meekest of men into monsters. I’ve worked long and hard to not be a monster and don’t need any setbacks.
But now my unwitting nemesis wants me to join him in a weightloss challenge, to help him “stay motivated”. Well, Paul Kotze, I hope you’re ready to face the furious fire in my belly. You’ve unleashed the dragon and someone’s gonna get burned (hint: it’s not me). Prepare yourself, sir.