Pride in the Process
This weekend, I'll represent Australia in a sport I started training in just over a year ago. I still don't really think I'm very good, which says more about my internal dialogue than anything else (a frequent topic in my therapy sessions). I've been reflecting a lot on my journey — the training, the mindset, all of it — and I find it interesting that the "better" I've gotten, the less pride I feel in what I've achieved. It's almost like the more progress I make, the further away I feel from something I'd actually be proud of. This shows up in every area of my life, if I'm honest, and it's a bit exhausting.
Anyway — let’s save that for therapy. Here's a bit about the last 12 weeks of training, and some lessons I've picked up along the way.
1. You don't get what you deserve
I think in competitive sport there's almost this entitlement of feeling that you deserve a certain result based on virtue or discipline, but that's simply not true. I've had my worst performances ever following incredible blocks of training, and my best sessions after a sleepless night. Feeling like you're entitled to a certain result means you'll look for external factors to blame for your performance, rather than looking inward and focusing on the process and your effort.
2. It feels hard because it is hard
Some days, the last thing I want to do is lift something heavy. I want to curl up on the couch with an entire season of Ted Lasso and a block of Marvellous Creations (if it's on special). I've wanted to turn around and go home when I'm halfway to the gym. I've cried during sessions because I'm too tired, and had a full meltdown over a max set on the leg extension. These are the days that really matter for me, because working through it and making myself do what I can forces me to show up in other areas of my life, too.
3. One step at a time
Looking at the numbers I'm intending to hit 12 weeks out from a competition feels overwhelming and impossible, and that's just with one sport (I do both powerlifting and Olympic weightlifting because I am psychotic). There is so much trust that needs to be put into the process and my ability to grind, work hard, and show up regardless of how I'm feeling.
4. Don't be so precious
Often I feel anxious when it comes to training with others, because I like to control my environment as much as I can, and often feel stressed or overwhelmed in a group scenario. This mindset is honestly more of a detriment than anything. If you want to compete, or do anything challenging really, you need to face the fact that you will be made to feel uncomfortable. Leaning into this discomfort is the best thing you can do to ensure you actually grow, instead of staying safe in what's familiar and comfortable. The version of me that avoided every uncomfortable room would never have made it to this point, and she definitely wouldn't be lining up to represent her country this weekend.
5. This was meant to be fun
Representing Australia or not, I’m a 40 year old with a hobby, so making sure I’m on top of the actual important life things like getting my corn removed and having Graham’s diabetic condition reassessed is key.
So here we are — about to step out and compete for Australia in a sport I'd never even tried until a year ago. I still don't feel especially proud, and I'm not sure I'll feel it even after this weekend, regardless of the result. Just writing this though has made me realise that the outcome isn’t really the point, the process is. Proving that I can show up regardless of how I feel, trust myself and the work I’ve put it, and fucking send it with the confidence of someone who does feel pride, is what its all about for me.
