The Lord knows I have a competitive streak a mile wide.
My friends at the box laugh at me as I meticulously set up my barbell, kettlebell, jump rope, and/or plyo-box in the most efficient way possible to eek out the most rounds and reps in any given AMRAP.
On the other hand, I'm starting to understand that winning isn't necessarily the point.
I think the point is to play a game together. To collectively reach our potential. To use the environment of group workouts to draw us into giving our best effort. All while encouraging, and celebrating each other's achievements.
My 6 year old son reminded me of that.
After his first soccer game, we piled into the car, and headed to meet a member of the "opposing team" for breakfast (A.K.A. his best friend Ellie).
On the way there I asked my son, Emmett: "What was your favorite part?"
"Giving people five at the end."
I hope he holds on to that attitude forever.
Emmett definitely wanted to win. He definitely did his best, but in the end, congratulating people, and celebrating the game was the most enjoyable.
We show up. We strive. We compete. We do warfare with our muscles, mind, and will. We ache to edge out competitors. We come as close as we dare to puking, passing out, or collapsing.