Estimated reading time: 7 minutes

What You’re Really Telling Yourself About the CrossFit Level 1
A group of people recently emailed me about a pact they made together; committing to step into the fire and take their CrossFit Level 1 together this summer. One of them asked if I would make myself available for a question and answer session. I remember a smile of deep recognition crossing my face when I read that request. I am always genuinely flattered when someone reaches out in that way. There are plenty of people they could go to for technical answers. Many people have stood on seminar floors for a decade. I am well aware of that reality. However, over time I have learned something about these kinds of questions.
the question beneath the surface
The truth is that most people do not actually ask about the seminar at all during these Q&A’s. Not really. They think they are asking about the movements or the manual so they ask about what to expect. They wonder if the staff will test their physical movements in front of a room full of strangers. On the surface, those questions sound practical and reasonable because they represent someone trying to prepare themselves for a new experience. But underneath all of that noise, there is a much more honest and vulnerable question sitting there in the dark, and it’s the one that people rarely say out loud. They want to know if they are going to walk into that room and feel like they don’t belong.
the narrative of fear
I know that question intimately because I carried it with me long before I ever stepped foot into my own Level 1. In fact, I had no intention of taking that course at all. I didn’t consider it a possibility for my life. In my mind back then, the CrossFit Level 1 was a sacred space reserved for a very specific type of person. I thought it was for people who already looked the part and could perform all of the movements with ease. I believed it was for people who had already proven themselves worthy. Since I did not see myself in that category, the idea of signing up never even crossed my mind. I felt I needed to earn the right to sit in that room.
Everything changed when someone told me, very plainly, that I was going to take my CrossFit Level 1 and we were going to film the entire experience. There was no slow introduction to the idea and no time to ease into the discomfort. I remember the immediate, visceral reaction in my body. It was not excitement or curiosity. Instead, I felt a sharp and overwhelming fear. That fear convinces you that you are about to walk into a situation where every insecurity you carry is what everyone will see. It was awful.
brace for impact
I felt certain I would embarrass myself, massively. I believed I would confirm every doubt I ever had about whether I belonged in CrossFit at all. A couple of days before the seminar, I sat in my favorite chair in the suffocating silence of my living room and cried. I was already bracing for a humiliation that hadn’t even happened yet. That is what fear does when it is rooted in something deeper. It pulls from old wounds and builds a story that feels entirely real. You start reacting to the story as if it’s your current reality.
finding truth on the seminar floor
I walked into that seminar expecting someone to dismiss me. What I found instead fundamentally shifted my understanding of myself. Was I the biggest person there that day? Yes, I was the biggest person in the room at the time. I was acutely aware of that fact the moment I crossed the threshold of the ranch door. But not once did anyone make me feel like I was out of place. No one treated me like I needed to prove myself before I could participate. I was simply a student sitting in a room with other students learning the methodology. That reality stood in direct contrast to every lie I told myself leading up to that weekend.
There was a specific point during that seminar when I eventually had to excuse myself to step out because I broke down in tears. It was not because I had failed a test. I didn’t feel embarrassed. Instead, for the first time in my life, I understood something about my own body. I had lived with Blount’s disease since I was a child. That has since been fixed, but at the time, my leg had a bow that changed the way I walked. For years, I had tried to force my body into positions that were never designed for me. People were always trying to get me to squat differently, stand differently.
a lesson in liberation
Then a coach told me something simple that changed the trajectory of my life. I didn’t need to force my body to move like someone else. I needed to learn how to move for my own body. That moment hit me harder than any cue or lecture ever could. It exposed how much time I had spent trying to become something I was never meant to be. I was trying to earn a place in a space that had already been open to me.
So when people ask me about the CrossFit Level 1 now, I can explain the process. I can tell them that no one is standing there waiting to catch them failing. The course is a starting point for learning rather than a barrier to entry. But if I only answer those technical questions, I’m not actually addressing the ghost that’s holding them back!
the cost of staying away
What stops people is the assumption that they need to fix something about themselves before they show up. This belief is costing the community more than most people realize. When we stay away, we rob the world of the living evidence that change is possible. The people who hesitate are often the exact people who would make the biggest impact if they stepped forward. By staying home, they inadvertently steal the courage of the next person who is looking for a reason to start.
When I first joined CrossFit, I did not stay because everyone looked like they had it all figured out. I stayed because I saw someone who resonated with me. That single point of connection made me believe that there was a place for me to. We’re looking for someone who understands what it feels like to walk into a space and not be sure if they’re welcome.
the internal gatekeeper
I am not separate from this struggle. I delayed my own Level 2 and Level 3 for reasons that have nothing to do with my knowledge or my ability to do the work. The same voice that stops everyone else has shown up for me too. I have found that the voice doesn’t disappear just because you gain experience. In fact, the higher you climb, the more articulate and convincing that voice becomes. It yells…… “Who the fuck do you think you are?”
It stays with you until you learn how to recognize it for what it is. At some point, the decision becomes very simple even if it doesn’t feel easy. You can keep waiting until you feel like you’ve earned your place. Or, you can accept that the opportunity to grow was never dependent on you proving yourself first. No one is standing at the door deciding whether you belong.
The only question that remains is whether you are going to keep deciding that you don’t.



