Resumes vs Eulogies

It’s quite natural for us to be drawn to the best performances in the gym, the biggest weights lifted, the most reps done and the fastest moved.  But of course, all the while that is going on, others are getting their first handstand or pullup, adding weight to the bar for the first time, having a lightbulb moment on a technical movement and just generally improving in leaps and bounds, in fact, often by a far greater amount percentage wises than the person who just lifted every 20kg plate in the room for a 5kg PR.

There is no doubt that it’s great to be first, or at least up near the top of the heap.  Most of the work we do is objective in nature, reps, weight, time, rounds.  The more you do and the faster you go the better you are.  But what if we applied subjective measures to our training, much like they do in iceskating, springboar diving and ballroom dancing?  In this way, it would be scored on how well you performed the exercise, how effortless you made it look, and yes, there would be some points in there for level of difficulty, but if you executed a muscle up, or snatch looking like a monkey humping a grapefruit, your style points would leave you well down on the rankings…..

When I’m sitting in the crowd at a fitness comp, I see everyone point and gasp at the athlete who lifts the most weight, or battles underneath the bar as they grimly fight to complete a rep that has almost crushed them.

But that is quickly forgotten as the next athlete steps up to lift more weight, or fail more spectactularly.

What people tend to remember though, is the athlete who moved like a ninja through the workout, with beautiful grace and poise, the athlete who thanked their judge even after a workout that didn’t go their way, and those who stayed on the floor to cheer on the athletes who are last to finish.

In the gym, everyone knows who is the strongest, but everyone also knows the kindest, and the funniest, and the friendliest, and the athlete who moves with virtuosity, who is always practicing good form, even at the expense of speed, and makes a workout look like a dance routine.  Everyone also knows the athlete who is often grumpy, or doesn’t share a squat rack well, or is always negative about their training, or constantly shaving reps during a workout.

When you aren’t in the gym, what would people say about you?  Are you leaving a resume or a eulogy behind?  And what is it like?