Compete!
I love competing. I always have. Both personally and professionally. I especially love to win, but recently I’ve come to think differently about what winning means. Many of the sports I play – which are largely individual competitions – are designed for losing. There’s only one winner among the many who participate. I’d sometimes look at the format of a competition and wonder if I should bother joining it when I have little to no chance of coming in first – and in fact, have a much greater chance of finishing last. But what I’ve come to realize lately is that, in all these endeavors, the real competition is with myself. That doesn’t mean I always win, but it does mean that, at times, it may appear that I was nowhere near the top of a leaderboard, yet I still crushed it!
I’ll start with an example from this past weekend where I entered my first ever bouldering competition. In bouldering, the “problems” are graded on the V-scale where V0 is the easiest of the beginner routes; the intermediate routes start at V3; the advanced at V7; and the professional levels at V10. Only the world’s elite climbers can climb anything from V14 and above. Those are levels you see at the Olympics where most competitors cannot even solve the problems.
A little more than a year into my climbing journey, I’ve have been working my way up to the intermediate levels. I can “send” nearly every route that is a V2 or less, and about a third of the V3’s that I try – rarely on the first attempt, but rather after taking the time to figure it out either by watching video of myself or seeing others do a “beta” that I did not think of. One very special feature of the climbing community is the unselfishness of the group of climbers at the gym. No one roots against you. Others are always willing to share feedback, technique, and guidance while cheering you on to achieve more than you think is possible. We share our insights with each other and support every climber when they are working out a problem. Everyone is welcome, and all are better for it. Just look at what it says on the door as you enter my gym . . .
Movement LIC, New York
But when I received an invitation to sign up for the annual Gotham City competition, I initially hesitated. My first thought was that maybe I’ll do it someday “soon.” That thought came from the idea that I had no chance of coming in first. The competition is tiered, so you enter the one that’s at your level. And yes, there was a level for me -- the “novice” category. That’s where one should be able to send all V1’s and V2’s and a good amount of V3’s – exactly where I am. So, when I further considered entering the competition, all I could say is, “why not?!?!”
As I thought about my goals for the competition, I realized that I had none. In fact, I couldn’t have any as I had no clue what to expect. I didn’t know what the problems would be like, I didn’t know who enters these competitions, and I had no idea where I fit in. I could only hope to try my best, have fun, and learn. In one way, showing up was winning because not showing up would have been losing. No matter the result, it would be a personal record and a baseline for future competitions. I could say more about what winning means, but it is better explained in this Instagram post. . .
If you didn’t watch it, here’s a recap that sums up what competing and winning means . . .
“The reason you go into tough arenas in life is to be challenged to perform better. You cannot perform better if you are not challenged.”
“You don’t learn to climb mountains in life by going around them. You learn by climbing mountains.”
“Winning is being better today than you were yesterday. Every day.”
The subject of the post was a nine-year-old girl who ran her first race finishing eighth out of eight, but the lesson is the same whether you are nine or 50. Finishing in last place does not make you last. It means you won by competing and challenging yourself. Frankly, I don’t yet even know where I finished in last weekend’s comp, as my gym has not yet sent the results. The focus over the weekend was on the “Open” participants who competed at the highest levels for the top prizes and came back Saturday night for the finals. My category competed during one of two sessions during the day, and the results will be sent out later this week. Maybe I came in last, or maybe I didn’t. I’ll find out soon enough, but right now there’s something refreshing about not knowing. It makes me realize that nothing at all will change once I get the results. I will have performed at my best whether that means I was last, first, or somewhere in between. I embraced the challenge.
In the competition, I sent all the problems that I should have sent and one more that surprised me (I didn’t even set the camera to record it). I also tried several harder problems that I had no shot at solving – yet. As I look back on the comp, I was probably a little better than I would have expected. How is that not winning?!?! If it turns out that I finished last, it won’t change anything. I won by competing and challenging myself. I won by climbing mountains rather than going around them. I won by getting better than I was the day before. I can’t wait to do it again.
But showing up and competing was not the only way I won this weekend. I took it all in during the comp – sometimes spending my time watching those at the highest level compete instead of working on my own climbs. Maybe I could have spent some of that time trying to send one more route, but whether I did it or not wouldn’t have changed what I took from the day. Watching others compete did.
Gotham City Comp at Movement LIC, March 29, 2025.
Taking the time to watch the best of the best made me wonder whether it was even possible for me to get there. It’s so far beyond my ability right now, that the answer might be, “probably never.” But then it occurred to me that wondering whether I can reach that level would have been like wondering at the beginning of my journey if I would ever lose 150 lbs. My answer at almost any point before it actually happened would have been, “probably never.” Yet, it happened despite — or even because of — the fact that it never was the goal. The goal was getting better each day. Today, “probably never” is rarely in my vocabulary anymore. Sure, the physical changes I would need to achieve to send a V10 are about as great – or greater – than the ones I’ve made in my journey thus far. Those weren’t easy, but I did it. So, when it comes to whether I will ever send V10’s and compete in the “Open” category, all I can say now is, “who knows?” For now, I’ll focus on being better today than I was yesterday. Every day.
That doesn’t just go for climbing either. My running journey has been going on for much longer than I have been climbing, and it gives me a basis to believe in all that is possible. As I posted before, when I ran my first 15K race in 2015, I finished 4,886th out of 4,990 that completed the race – the 99.7th percentile. In 2024, I was 2,621st out of 4,049 – the 64.7th percentile. I went from finishing in front of 14 runners to finishing in front of over 1,400 runners! Anything is possible when you continue to challenge yourself.
Competing has me finishing races over a thousand spots higher than I did before!
But competing is not just about sport. For me, it is a very big part of work too. I was attracted to my career in litigation because of the same competitive drive. Professionally, the competition is much more mental than physical – although both work and sports involve at least some level of both. Trials, and the long nights that come with them, take a toll on both the mind and the body. It’s a grind that exhausts everything you have in the tank. My colleagues and I are fortunate to have a very good record, but we haven’t won them all. In this space, where so much more is at stake, winning really is winning and losing is losing. It would be disrespectful of me to think otherwise given the trust that is put into our team by the clients we defend who have so much on the line.
When I think about the wins, I look back on how much fun they were. In retrospect, every sleepless night amidst a long stretch away from home seemed like a blast. But those same moments, no doubt, feel different when reflecting on a loss. It’s not the fun that stands out. It’s the pain. The loss stings deeply not just to my ego, but to everyone on our team and to those who put their faith in us to do the job. Still, when I walk away from the process and admire the hard work, dedication, and sacrifices that were made by everyone on our team – no different than if we had won – I again learn more about the meaning of winning. In some way, winning was defined long before the jury completed their deliberations. It was defined by everyone who gave their everything irrespective of what is ultimately written on the verdict sheet.
Whether at work or in sports, the wins are fun, but I learn more from the losses. They sit with me for longer – way longer. I analyze and dissect each one more than I ever do after a win. But part of the process of doing so, for either the wins or the losses, is being honest about what happened. There are wins where I could have done better, and there are losses where I could not have. Still, the real loss would be if I had never competed at all.
Aaron