“How competitive are you?” is a question that is frequently asked by hiring managers for Sales & Marketing leadership roles. This question is asked to determine if you are “in it to win it”, “have skin in the game” or are “willing to go the extra mile”. In fact, one market leader in the medical device industry utilizes a Gallup personality test, and only hires individuals for Sales and Marketing positions who demonstrate a high level of competitiveness. This particular company sees the level of competitiveness as a predictor of a candidate’s drive and ability to have a high job performance.  

I am a competitive person by nature and have been competitive since childhood. I like to win. However, a recent event led me to reflect on whether another perspective, besides winning, might serve me better in the way I define success. 

This year marks the third time I have participated in the CrossFit Open, which, according to the organizers unites hundreds of thousands of athletes around the world to compete in the world’s largest participatory sporting event in history. It was time for the competition. It was a Sunday morning and I walked into our gym (aka “the box”) to have my coaches judge me on my workout. “21.1” as it is referred to consisted of handstand walk-ups to a wall and double-unders (jumping rope with the rope making two passes per jump instead of one). If you cannot do these movements as prescribed, there are scaled versions available. 

The handstand walk-ups put the fear of God into me. I have never completely tried to achieve them, as I was afraid that my arms would buckle, and I would fall on my face. My intent that morning was to default to the scaled version, to take the “easy” route, but my coaches made it clear that scaling wouldn’t be an option. 

I was asked to try a single handstand walk-up. When I did it, my teammates witnessed me on the brink of a public meltdown. I was fighting back tears yet, I pushed through my fear and to my surprise was able to get closer to the wall while being upside down than I ever had before. My coach “prescribed” for me to do the double-unders in the workout, although the scaled version called for single-unders (regular rope jumps). At that point in time, I was being defiant and argued that my score would stink. My coach insisted, saying that scaled versions are only available to those who are physically unable to do the move, so I hesitantly conceded. 

After I completed the workout, I needed to find a mindset that better served me, instead of just looking at the numbers on my judging sheet. I tried to detach from the outcome and redefine what winning looked like for me. It was really about giving it my best effort and learning from the experience. If we look at competition from that perspective, we are achieving self-mastery, because our ego has transcended. These are the concepts that I have learned on my iPEC coaching journey to become a professional coach. Ironically, if I had been successful in interpreting my scores this way, the story of that Sunday would end here. But that’s not the case. 

When looking at the score sheet, I was hanging on to the results way too long. The detachment from the outcome didn’t work for me. My ego was bruised. When I shared this experience with a close friend, a previous employee of mine who also happens to be a coaching client, she responded sarcastically “Oh, you mean you didn’t like being pushed out of your comfort zone, coach?” I had just gotten a taste of my own medicine and didn’t enjoy it one bit.

I reflected on how I showed up throughout my life when I was competing. I started thinking about winning a sandcastle-building contest at the age of seven, Karate championships in Germany as a teenager, receiving a prestigious stipend as a student, being awarded a 52” screen TV by an employer for submitting the best strategic marketing plan, and too many other times to count. On the flip side, I also remembered the emotions and the tears when the outcome was less than first place. Winning for me was a matter of “all, or nothing at all”, I was comparing myself to others on a regular basis.