How competition helps and how it hurts: A former athlete and yoga instructor’s journey with competition

Compete: strive to gain or win something by defeating or establishing superiority over others who are trying to do the same thing.

We spend a lot of time competing in our lives.  As a former athlete and a sister to two lively and athletic brothers,  I’ve spent countless time, energy, and emotion competing with my body.  Not to mention, I’ve racked up some pretty high medical bills too!

Competition has served me well in many situations in life.  I have won awards and received recognition for my performance.  I have won employment. I gained confidence and I learned to work hard and do my best.  I’m forever grateful for the coaches and teammates who have challenged and encouraged me in such endeavors. But, competition isn’t all good.

Through competition, I have endured the following (though not all-inclusive) injuries:

• Four concussions
• Femoral stress fracture (The femur is the largest bone in your body!)
• Countless bruises and scars
• Shin splints
• Plantar’s fasciitis
• Broken hand
• Asthma attack
• A few black eyes
• Dead toenails (As an eighth grader, I had to have my big toenails surgically removed because I jammed them so hard into my shoes while jumping on the basketball court.  Though this was a painful and painfully embarrassing event, I recovered and started playing basketball a couple weeks later.)

Today, I share these injuries from a place of humility.  As a yoga instructor and health coach, it deeply saddens and humbles me that it took such grievous injuries to cause me to pause.  Obviously, competition has taught me some less than desirable habits and thoughts, for example:

• I learned to find pride in pushing myself to the limit.  (It took four concussions for me to stop playing soccer.)
• I learned to showcase my strength by returning to the field or the track after an injury.
• I placed more value on winning than on the health of my body on numerous occasions.
• I developed the habit of constantly comparing myself to others; believing the lie that my worth or confidence is dependent on how I measure up to those around me.

Fortunately, I have since learned to pause the competition and to slow down.  This change first happened in the yoga studio.  I’ll never forget leaving my first yoga class.  I thought, “That wasn’t a workout at all.  I barely worked up a sweat.  I better go running or something else today.”  I was so accustomed to pushing my body hard, that I didn’t recognize the yoga class to be exercise.  Yet, there was something about the class that kept me coming back for more.  I didn’t know what that something was at the time.  Now, I know that it was the connection I began redeveloping with my body.  It was the gentleness I had with my body in the class.  It was the observational (rather than judgmental) thoughts I had about my body during class.  It was the non-aggressive, non-competitive, interaction I had with others moving their own body.  It was peace.  It had been a VERY long time since I had practiced peace with my body.  And, it was hard for me.  For so long I had practiced going harder, running faster, jumping higher and pushing myself.  Finding peace with my body was a bigger challenge than running a marathon.  Yes, that’s right; finding peace in one’s body can be more difficult than running 26.2 miles!

I am not suggesting that I will never compete again.  I’m sure there will come a time when I exert myself to  cross the line before the other runners or when I attempt to do more push ups than my husband.  I AM suggesting that I will now strive to deeply care for my body and to love it, not because of how it is performing, for what it can do, or what it cannot do, but because of the creation that it is.  I will aim not to “beat” the person next to me in the yoga studio, but to listen to my body and find peace in it.  I want to listen to the small things it tells me, like: “I’m hungry”, “I’ve had enough to eat”, “I need more sleep”, “sit up taller”, “I need rest”, “stretch the left hip a little bit longer; it’s really tight”, “I need more green, leafy, vegetables”.  I think if I listen to the little, quieter things my body has to tell me, it won’t take a trip to the hospital to slow me down.

Here’s to listening to your body, balancing the amount of competition in your life, and discovering peace along the way!