The CrossFit Open. That’s pretty much all my box has been talking about for the past few weeks. (Maybe even a month now? Who knows. It feels like forever.) When I first learned exactly what the CrossFit Open was, my brain jumped right onboard the Absolutely Fucking Not train. I humiliate myself enough in front of everyone at my gym all the time, no need to do it on a larger scale. Plus, it’s not like I’d actually be able to do any of the WODs Rx. Hell, I doubt I’d even be able to do any of them scaled. So while everyone else has been prepping and getting all excited for the Open to start, I’ve just been off in a corner, minding my own business, happily unregistered. 

But then, a couple of days ago, one of my coaches was talking about how she was excited to see how she’s improved over the past year, and that the Open is a great tool to use as a progress marker. She also said something along the lines of, most people who didn’t sign up this year will regret not doing it come next year because they will have nothing to use as a baseline to see how far they’ve come in a year.

So for a split second - and I mean split - I considered registering for the Open. I’m curious to see how far I will have come in a year. But then I remembered: Humiliation. Embarrassment. Shame. Embarrassment. Have I mentioned humiliation? You get the idea. And I again decided that the Open was just not for me. 

Fast forward to today, where my coach posts an article on Facebook written by the man who came in just about dead last out of last year’s 272,000 CrossFit Open competitors. As I was reading it, he expressed all of the same fears I had. One, I can’t do it. Two, I don’t want to be made fun of. Three, everyone will think I’m wasting my time. Those all pretty much hit the nail on the head. 

But then he talks about how, despite all of those things, he did it anyway. Even though he was nervous and afraid he would make a fool out of himself, he tried, and he posted his scores, no matter what. I have to say, I have a great amount of respect and admiration for this guy. How could I not?

As someone else who also has last place reserved at their box for just about every workout, I'm still not convinced that I wouldn't regret registering. And I know this is supposed to be the year of doing things that terrify me, and this definitely qualifies, but...I just don't know. So, to be continued...

It's kind of ridiculous how controlling and dominating my thoughts can be sometimes. I had my first day of my labor and delivery clinical today, and it consisted of nothing more than a tour of the unit and some computer training, so pretty low key. No big deal. Tomorrow is just learning the postpartum and newborn assessments (that I already know and have performed on real patients before), and performing a head to toe assessment for our instructor to prove our competence. Also a pretty low key sounding day, right?!

And yet, my brain is working itself up to make it seem like this huge fucking deal when I know - I know - it's not. I've been doing physical assessments for a year now, and the one for tomorrow is even a short, sweet, to the point version. It should literally be a non-issue. And yet, for whatever reason...what if I forget half of it? What if I look stupid? What if I do things out of order? What if I do things wrong? What if my instructor thinks I'm incompetent and she won't let me work with patients? And let me just add, I've worked under this same instructor in a clinical setting before, have had to prove my competency for her before, and she deemed me able to work with patients. So how fucking ridiculous am I being right now? Don't answer that.

This is anxiety at its finest, ladies and gentlemen. It will convince you that you are absolutely, without a doubt incapable of doing the simplest of tasks. It will tell you you're not good enough, that you don't belong anywhere, that you are worthless. Pond scum. The scum that sits on pond scum. And it can be relentless. Like tonight. I can feel a stomach ache starting to build up from nerves when there is LITERALLY NOTHING TO BE NERVOUS ABOUT. It's so frustrating!!!

Sometimes I'm so tempted to just give up, and ask why me? Why do I have to struggle through all of this shit while others will never know this type of crippling anxiety in their lifetime? But I've learned that doing that will only make you crazy. So I just have to believe that at some point in my life, this will serve a purpose. Don't ask me what that purpose looks like because fuck if I know, but it's better than thinking this is all for nothing. It has to be.

New years don't typically carry much clout with me. I never thought that midnight had the potential to be as magical for me as it was for Cinderella, and so January 1st, 2016 really might as well have been December 32nd, 2015. No difference.

But then, much to my disappointment, shit hit the fan just days into the new year, and I found myself thinking that 2016 was starting to look an awful lot like 2015. Spoiler alert: I really don't want a repeat of last year. That's when I began to realize that even though I didn't think I viewed 2016 as a potential for change and opportunity, I subconsciously kinda sorta did. Well then.

2015 was an anxious year of firsts for me. I started it by beginning nursing school in January - and not just the pre-reqs, but the classes where I'm actually responsible for real patients (!!!). In June I told someone for the very first time an important secret I'd kept to myself for the last decade. In September, I joined a CrossFit box despite not having an athletic bone in my body.

But 2015 was also really scary for me due to all those firsts. What if I'm not smart enough to be a nurse? There's a difference between being smart and being nursing smart - what if I was incapable of bridging the gap between the two? And then, assuming I did somehow find the ability to adequately learn the nursing theory, would I be competent enough to take care of my patients like they deserved to be taken care of? What if I missed something vital on one of my patients that had dire consequences?

As far as exposing my secret goes, I think that was the most terrifying thing I've ever done in my life. Thankfully, I got some very good, reassuring reactions to it before I got some heartbreakingly negative ones, but it's still a secret to some very important people in my life, so that's stressful. And where CrossFit is concerned...I think 'holy shit' sums it up nicely. I love it, don't get me wrong, I wouldn't quit it for anything, but hot damn. Could I have picked anything more difficult? I would argue no.

And for the big elephant in the room - it's no secret that I've dealt with depression since I was a teenager, but for the last couple of years it's been a particularly horrible bitch. It has unfortunately required a few hospitalizations that I'm not at all proud of, but it is part of my past, and this thing is part of who I am for now, so I guess all I can say about that is, it is what it is.

When things started to spiral downward just days into the new year, it was kind of like a slap in the face. If I didn't want a duplicate of 2015, I realized I was going to have to do things differently. I couldn't just continue in my old habits and expect a different outcome. That would just be stupid. And in the interest of not being stupid, that means...time for a change.

I'm tired of being held hostage by the "what ifs" that cloud my head. I'm going to try my best to realize that yes, there are still so many things I don't know when it comes to nursing, but it's time to be brave and go out there and help my patients to the best of my ability. I've learned the basic things I need to know for my next two clinicals, and I won't be alone, so I CAN do this. I need to dig deep and find the courage to be brave enough to tell my family the truth about me, so I can start to live authentically. When I see a WOD that intimidates me, or walk into my gym and see all of the super fit, amazing athletes getting ready for class or already working out, I need to be brave enough to do the WOD anyway, or work out alongside them anyway, even if I feel like I don't belong there. Because I will never become fitter or improve my skills if I don't try. And as far as the beast of depression goes...I know I'm going to have to be brave enough to reach out to my friends and family when I feel like I'm drowning with the surface nowhere in sight. That's going to be really hard and painful for me, but it will be necessary.

It's going to be difficult and overwhelming, and I'm sure it's going to just downright suck at times, and I know I won't be able to do it completely by myself. But it's time for a real, honest change. I'm hoping to use this blog to document my successes (and inevitable failures because hello, CrossFit) while I'm trying to be a braver Becca. I don't know quite what that's going to look like just yet, but I figure this is a good starting point. So here's to my year of being brave.