The Big Picture
The Big Picture
By Bob Guere
I’ve rambled much over my two and a half CrossFit-years about big picture stuff. I’ve talked about why I CrossFit, what this community means to me, how important I think our role in the community is, and how vital our impact on youth fitness will be. This has been a very busy summer for me; the garage box is as full as it’s been in the short time since I began training. One thing that has been solidified in my goals as a trainer is the “big picture” implications of my deeds. I’m a big picture guy.
I try to be a giver. I regularly look for ways to help my athletes, to give them what they need to be better CrossFitters, better athletes, and in the end, better people. I don’t train for me. I train for them. I don’t read the CrossFit Journal every day for me, I do it for them. Every time one of my teens call me “Coach Bob”, I remember these things, and the summer of 2010 will be the year I remember how this all started.
Outside of one article that boldly described the “Righteousness of CrossFit”, I don’t often fold my personal religious beliefs into my CrossFit coaching out of respect for everyone’s right to believe what they wish. I don’t hide it, nor am I ashamed. However, one of my duties as a Christian is to give lovingly, selflessly, not in search of return, but trusting that my gifts will be used righteously for the good of others. In turn, I am blessed with the fruits of my labor. More than any quest for gain can ever return, I am regularly filled with the joy of a Husband, a Father, and a Coach.
As a Coach, I don’t give to my athletes for personal gain, but for the betterment of their performance. My teen summer camp this year has returned to me more than I feel I could have given. Including my wonderful daughter, my group of sixteen teens has impressed me with their ability to strive for perfection in the face of sheer exhaustion, their quest for knowledge, and their willingness to trust their coach. How anyone can underestimate a child is beyond me. I’ve seen first-hand the breaking of barriers; kids taking that next step that they thought they couldn’t take. Do they know what that does for me? Does it matter? To me it does not. I don’t do it for me, and I don’t want them to do it for me either. I don’t even know why they trust me? I’m just a CrossFit Coach; a friend to many of them, a stranger to some before camp. I take my small role in their lives very seriously.
Herein lies the big picture for me, and I will submit, for all coaches. When we see the light bulb, all our efforts have been worth it. The hundreds of hours, countless corrections, numerous failures, frustrations, and backward steps all shrink to nothing and become worthy of your sweat when you make the tiniest breakthrough with a young athlete. I believe CrossFit holds more of these moments than other sport-specific programs, because we demand so much from our athletes, in so many modalities.
Part of what keeps me going is the constant fear that I might fail them. All the moments of triumph will then pale in comparison to that one moment where I let them down. I know that moment is inevitable, because I am only human. But I quietly fear that moment more than anything. I don’t feel the same fear for my adult athletes, at least not the same level. I worry, but I don’t fear. With kids, there is genuine fear. Their parents have entrusted me with their safety, and ultimately with their health. CrossFit can be dangerous in the heat of intense movement. I hope and pray that the days without failure continue to click by, and the pile of triumphs continues to build.
In two weeks, my teen athletes will embark on a task that I have feared from the beginning might be too much. Outwardly, I have told everyone, “They will be ready!”, but inside, I wondered if I have failed in preparing them. I do not fear that their effort will be too small, or that their drive to perform will be inadequate. I fear the shortcomings of their coach. I have asked them to run 100 kilometers, as a team, to raise money for The Disposable Heroes Project. They will all share the load, each running what they can to help the team accumulate the 62 miles of the course. Realistically, they will be fine. To ask a teen CrossFitter to run 5 or 6 miles over the course of 12 hours isn’t asking much. I can’t say the same for most teens, by the way. But the event is nonetheless daunting, and I do not want to let them down. Knowing them as I do now, I know my fears are unfounded, and they should all be ashamed of me for thinking it. But I have grown to love these kids over the summer, and it will be the culmination of nine weeks of hard work and sacrifice on their part, and mine.
What did your kids do this summer? These kids did a ton. They gave up some good couch time to sweat. They gave up some of their favorite foods in favor of a diet that would help their performance and recovery. They worked through bumps and bruises, sprains and torn hands. And they keep coming back for more. What’s wrong with them? Nothing is wrong with them, because they have changed my world. The small part of my world that they occupy is changed forever. They are part of an effort to change the fitness and health of the world, and I hope that seed is planted firmly. They have raised money to support the men and women who defend our freedoms right up to the ultimate sacrifice. These are special kids.
As the end of the summer approaches, I can only hope one thing; that I have showed them the big picture. We are more than our actions; we are all part of a larger task. I hope that I have taught them that quitting is never an option. Slow down, throttle back, and then attack. But never quit. You can do more than you think, always.
