"Badass" and other things CrossFit has taught my five-year-old.

"Was he good for you?" I asked my husband upon returning home from a Ladies' Night Out at our CrossFit gym. "No...." began his explanation of how, in my absence, our five-year-old son referred to a video about his favorite game as being "badass". Yay. The incident was handled by my husband and I didn't have to deal with the tears and apologies and the face being hidden behind the hands since my son was already in bed. I just got to giggle and be glad it was someone else's turn to handle it. You see, this wasn't the first time our sweet, intelligent child had dropped a verbal bomb. I vividly remember nearly crashing the car the day my son asked me from the backseat: "Mommy, what does 'pussy' mean?" The hard part about this is that I don't even have to ask my son where he hears these things. I know exactly where he hears them. He hears these things at a place I purposefully take him to between one and seven times a week...the gym.

A CrossFit facility isn't like a typical gym. We all know each other, we all workout together in small groups, we like to push each other and we like to goad each other. We're like one big, sweaty family. Because my husband and I co-own the gym with another couple, my son spends quite a bit of time there among an extremely wide array of "family members". I have learned that I will have to stomach some of the bad to balance out all the good my son experiences at the gym. Some people might wonder what sort of good things a five-year-old could learn at a place where he also learns such foul language. Quite a lot, really:

1) Women of all shapes and sizes and ages can be beautiful and strong. This may seem like a strange thing for a little boy to be learning. It may seem like a strange thing for the mother of a little boy to care that he learns early on. I think it's very important. He sees real women being praised for the effort they put in, not the number printed on the back of their britches. He sees real women being heralded for moving weight, not losing it (although he sees that achievement celebrated as well, as long as it's the goal of the athlete). He sees a camaraderie between women of all backgrounds as they work to complete a common task in the gym. Most importantly, he sees men of all shapes and sizes and ages cheering for all the women in the box and fist bumping every one of them that hits a PR or reaches a personal goal. Women are celebrated for their strengths and accomplishments far more often than they are objectified for their "assets".

2) Fear of failure prevents success. I can't tell you how many times he has seen missed lifts. I can't tell you how many times he has seen people struggle to get a pull-up or muscle-up and fail. He has seen people cry. He has seen grown adults pitch temper tantrums to rival those of any sleepy toddler (and make the colorful vocabulary of the most gnarled sailor seem pale by comparison). But nearly every time he sees those same people try again. They may not succeed the same day, they may not succeed that month, but they aren't so afraid of failure that they don't try it again.

3) How something is said is just as important as what is being said. Coaches tend to shout cues at people who are in the middle of a workout to remind them of movement standards or correct a potentially injurious movement fault. More than once my son has heard a coach shout the same cue five times to an athlete who appears to either be ignoring it or not understanding it. Another coach comes along, changes the wording of the cue slightly or draws the athlete's attention to a different body part and BOOM. Problem fixed. I have seen my son get the same look on his face while trying to ask for something as my husband gets when trying to coach someone through a complex lift. Certainly not always, but I think more often than is typical for a five-year-old, my son thinks about the best way to say something before he opens his mouth.

4) Praise is powerful. Everyone has a better time when the progress of the athletes is acknowledged. Coaches, athletes, spectators, EVERYONE smiles when advancements are recognized. I have overheard my son volunteer a "Good job!" to his friends when they are succeeding at something new or different. I know he hears these things at school and at friends' homes as well, but I know he hears it quite often at the gym.

5) Human beings can't thrive in a self-imposed bubble. My son has always been very slow to warm up to new people and new situations. The first 14 months of his life were pretty rough medically and I think that may have something to do with his suspicion of all things new and different. Being at the gym he's able to see that the people who ask coaches for help and discuss techniques and strategies with other members are the people that continue to progress and accomplish goals. People who come in and keep to themselves don't benefit from the input of others. Thankfully, aside from the previously mentioned goading (that takes place on a routine basis, yes, but all in fun), input from others is mostly constructive and encouraging.

6) Self-imposed bubbles aren't good, but people have to learn self-reliance, too. Newbie or seasoned veteran, ultimately every athlete who walks into the gym has to put the work in themselves. No coach or other member can lift the weight for them. No coach or other member can practice the rope climb or the handstand for them. We can help each other up when we fall, we can shout encouragement, but we can't make someone break a sweat by doing their work for them. I was trying to help my son with his first box jump not long ago, and I helped him a little too much. He ended up knocking his ankle into the box as I lifted him too far forward and not high enough. No physical damage, just injured pride. Through tears he told me "You should have just let me do it myself." He was right. He hasn't tried it since, but when he does decide to try again I will let him rely on his own two legs and his own perseverance.

7) "Hard work, dedication, dedication, hard work" has become the catch phrase of a popular television show trainer. This is the most constructive thing my son is learning through his visits to the gym and through the journey our family embarked on when the gym opened almost one year ago. My son is seeing how hard we worked to get the gym going, how hard we are working to keep it going, and how dedicated we are to our members and to the tenets of CrossFit. We have a Chinese restaurant near us that we occasionally get takeout from. The owners' children are always there in the evenings and on the weekends, sitting at a table and doing their homework or playing games. The first few times I saw them there I felt bad for them. I thought how hard it must be on both the kids and the parents to have them there in the restaurant all the time. Then I realized that the children were seeing exactly what it was their parents did when they weren't home. They saw that their parents worked together for a common goal that provided for their family. Most children today have no idea what their parents do when they leave the house. They have no idea why their parents might be in a bad mood when they get home from work. Some of those kids might take it personally. I'm now in the lucky camp that can actually talk to my son about what goes on at work and he'll understand, even at his tender age. Certainly there are some things he doesn't need to be concerned or burdened with, and some things I have no desire to discuss with him; but if I tell him I'm tired because I worked hard that day, he has a general understanding of what I mean. I don't always want him at the gym with me and I know he doesn't always want to be there. I also know that he knows why we ARE there.

Yes, my son sometimes hears words that I would prefer he didn't hear, and that I would certainly prefer he not repeat. Yes, my son sees some things at the gym that would be inappropriate in any other context. But my son could see those same things on primetime television and HAS heard the same things on satellite radio. I have decided that the positive lessons he learns about health and fitness and self-worth and community at the gym far outweigh the moments that test my parenting panache. In fact, I think we have quite a badass thing going.

Stop taking it personally!

I'm not big on New Year's "resolutions".  They've never really gotten me anywhere.   A few years ago I set a New Year's "goal" for myself instead: to run a half-marathon within the year.  That went off without a hitch.  The next goal was to beat a certain time in the half.  Success!  That goal had a secondary goal...the full marathon.  Accomplished!  Twice, even!  The next year, 2013, the goal became to beat a certain time in the marathon.  Life looked to be getting in the way.

My husband and I opened a CrossFit box with another couple and I suffered a fairly serious knee injury during an obstacle race in March.  Running quickly ceased to be my main fitness focus, especially since I couldn't do it for six weeks.  Once I started back it was slow going.  I began to feel as though I had let myself down.  The same old feelings of self-doubt that would creep in when a New Year's "resolution" of old didn't last were working their way back into my head.  It didn't matter that once I began to heal I was actually performing better physically and beginning to look like I was in the best shape of my life.  Thankfully, in the early fall, right when I realized there was no way to accomplish my goal for this year, I realized that I ALREADY HAD accomplished my goal for this year.  Looking back at the runs I logged in my phone app, I saw that I had in fact beaten the 4 hour time I set as my 2013 goal in 2012.  WHEW!

There is a woman I admire very much and like to call my friend (She lives in Connecticut; we met through dog training and now also have CrossFit in common.) that also sets an annual goal for herself.  The difference between her goal and mine is that she stipulates that the goal must push her outside of her comfort zone.  I think that's amazing and has the capacity to be both so simple and so complicated at the same time.  That's why I'm adopting the idea.  My goals in recent years have only been to improve at doing something I loved doing anyway.  This year, my goal is to stop taking things so personally.  Sound simple?  You don't know me very well.

I always take things personally.  As a young child, it was the problems in my family.  As a student, it was an inability to maintain a job, a full class schedule, too many extra-curricular activities, and be everyone's friend.  As a dog trainer, I took every lack of compliance by an owner personally, and I personally failed the few dogs that I trained that ended up needing to be rehomed.  I can't even stand to think about the dogs that didn't make it in the professions that I originally mapped out for them.  As an artist, I still take it personally when I feel too many revisions need to be made on a piece.  I'm failing at capturing that "thing" on canvas or paper.  As a runner and a martial arts student, it was not progressing quickly enough or not understanding the components or progression of a form or training plan.  As a wife and mother, every less-than-stellar dinner, every time a week goes by that the vacuum cleaner isn't put to good use, and every challenge my son shies away from are personal failures.  There are other things in the wife and mother departments that I take way too personally, but that would be an entire essay in and of itself.  In CrossFit I take it personally as an athlete when I don't perform as well as my coaches (or I) think I can.  As a coach I take it personally when I see athletes get frustrated or impatient or misunderstand movements or worst of all: hurt themselves--no matter how minor the bruise or scrape.  I could honestly go on...and on...

While I know in hindsight that most of the things I took personally as a child and young adult were not the direct consequences of my actions or inactions, I have a very difficult time seeing that while in the moment.  So in a quest to become a better wife, mother, artist, and CrossFit athlete and coach, I'm going to set a goal for myself this year that WILL push me outside of my comfort zone.  I'm going to work really hard at not taking things personally.  I believe that there will be immediate positive changes in every aspect of my life by unshouldering some of these burdens that were really never mine to bear.

I foresee that as a wife I can become a better friend to my husband because I won't take it personally when he comes home in a bad mood.  He will feel more able to open up to me about the events that *ACTUALLY* pissed him off or hurt his feelings because he won't misread my interpretation of his behavior as *ME* being in a bad mood.  Wow, that's even complicated to write...

I predict that I will be a better mother because rather than wonder where I've failed my son when he gets nervous and shies away from new people or activities I can focus on what he needs to hear or see in order to rise to the occasion.  I will understand that others may be looking at me to set a parenting example (one way or another) for their own predicaments, not judging me and flinging me down the ladder of their private mental caste system.

I know for certain that I will be both a better wife and mother when I quit beating myself up about the amount of dog hair on the floor.  Everyone is better off in a messy house as long as the kid is happy and the dog has enough mental and physical stimulation.  Besides, I already know that I spend way more time cooking homemade clean meals than your average mom these days.  At least we're all getting the proper nutrition to help fight off the virus lurking in the laundry pile!

My art will benefit because, well, Picasso and Escher and Dali (and whoever was the first to paint dogs playing poker--because you know there was no other reason for that outside of making the artist happy)!

CrossFit will make me a better athlete when I learn to recognize that my coaches really do just want me to get better when they shout those cues at me.  They aren't being judgmental.  Exposing my weaknesses should only arm me to defeat them, not defeat myself.  I will become a better coach when I learn to read between the lines of the protests, or lack thereof, from athletes and understand that we are the same:  we all take it too personally for our own good.

Lastly, I am confident that my faith will grow and I will develop a stronger relationship with God by not taking things too personally.  God doesn't look down on me and say, "I think I'll see what someone else can do to make Vanessa feel bad today."  I need to stop taking things so personally so I can give something to others around me who might need just that very something.  Here's to 2014!