Dottir

by Katrin Davidsdottir

  It was highlighter yellow and tacky. But I wore it on my left wrist no matter what, including to the school gala to which I wore a beautiful black sparkly dress, high heels, and a coiffed hairdo. It was always with me. When workouts hurt or school was hard and I wanted to quit, I would look at it to get motivated. After Bootcamp, I went to CrossFit where they had treadmills upstairs. I would do 10-by-400-meter repeats, picturing the CrossFit Games in my head and cranking the speed until I was nearly falling off. I often took myself past exhaustion and just at the right moment, my left wrist would pop up within view.

  I would repeat to myself: I wanna make it, I wanna make it, I wanna make it.

  * * *

  Annie urged me toward competition. My first was a couples’ tournament. I did it on a whim with one of my classmates because we thought it would be fun. In my mind, I wasn’t taking it too seriously, but there were girls in the mix who had qualified to compete on teams at the CrossFit Games, so the bar was high. At the end of the competition, we were on top of the leaderboard. It was a welcome surprise, but I still had a lot to learn about the intricacies of this new sport.

  I started actively seeking out competitions at the local level. I went to small weekend comps in the gym and the surrounding area. Competing stoked the fire inside me to train even harder, and I thrived, loving every minute of competition.

  January 2012—Reykjavik; Eighteen years old

  Progress came slowly but consistently. The skills I had honed through years of practice in gymnastics laid over the technical demands of CrossFit in a way that allowed me to excel. The slow nature of my gains made them easy to ignore, until I compared myself to my peers. The competitions I entered served as a strong reminder that what felt slow to me was a rocket ship of progress in the CrossFit world at large.

  As I gained competence in competition, I was also gaining the respect of the athletes I looked up to. Annie had been paying attention and apparently thought that I was ready to level up. She invited me to train with her and her boyfriend, Frederik Aegidius, at CrossFit Reykjavik. I had been training around Annie for months, but never with her. I completely freaked out. Annie freakin’ Thorisdottir had asked me to train with her. Frederik was also a heavy hitter and he was on the cusp of qualifying for his first CrossFit Games.

  I had won a recent competition that paired a CrossFit workout with the total of your Olympic lifts, but I had tweaked my back in the process. I had enough experience to know that I wasn’t injured, but my back was definitely lit up pretty badly. There was absolutely no way I was going to pass up this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity so I loaded up on ibuprofen, which I never do, slathered my back in Icy Hot, put a heating pad on it, and stretched for most of the night. I prepared for that session like I was going to Regionals, obsessing over what I should put in my gym bag before I went to bed and then tossing and turning nervously before falling asleep.

  Annie and Frederik showed me a whole new approach to training, and I had a blast. On top of that I was forced to push myself further and harder than ever. I never had competition like this is in the gym ever. Despite the fact that I was an up-and-comer and a potential future opponent, Annie was the perfect mentor. I would eventually come to find that identifying potential and fostering it is a habit for her. This was the first of what would become many times that I witnessed her desire to help develop promising Icelandic athletes. Annie took me under her wing.

  Training together became more regular. We both had very busy schedules, though, and seldom were able to actually coordinate. When we did, I got a much clearer picture of what an athlete at the top of the game looked and performed like. It was simultaneously humbling and inspirational. I was lucky to have this example so early in my career. It shaped the way I train and compete. Annie often shared her experiences and strategies from her already legendary career. We talked about movements and approaches to competition. I had stumbled into an apprenticeship with a master of her craft.

  Not long into our training together, Annie and Frederik were scheduled to travel to Denmark for a competition called the Butcher’s Classics.

  “You should come,” she said in passing one day.

  I smiled dismissively. I thought she was absolutely crazy to think I could just pick up and leave. But she pressed the issue further, so I knew she was serious.

  “It’s a good competition and if you take first place, you win one thousand dollars, which is enough to cover your flight and accommodation.”

  I was absolutely floored by the idea.

  “Oh my God,” was all I could think to say.

  “Think about it,” she said.

  I didn’t stop thinking about it. The thoughts swam in my head and the pull of competition was magnetic, but this sounded insane to me. Traveling to Denmark on a whim? Looking back, it fell into place as if it was destiny. At the time, I was familiar with the CrossFit Games because of Annie. But I was not aware of the dedication it would take and how long the process would be until I saw how she trained. Then I realized that if she thought this was a good idea, I should seriously consider it.

  I felt conflicted, but my grandparents were supportive. They tracked ticket prices with me to find something I could afford. At this point, I didn’t have two pennies to rub together, much less enough to make it to Denmark. My grandpa was still filling my gas tank and I lived at home. Any extra money went toward clothes or food.

  That Friday there was another huge gala at my college. If I went to the competition, I would have to miss it, which was a big deal. At the time, it was one of the biggest decisions of my life. At school the next day, I shared the dilemma with my class. They were so overwhelmingly supportive and thrilled for me that I decided to go. Everything about it made me nervous and excited. This was the most spontaneous thing I had ever done.

  At the last minute, Annie and Frederik had to change their plans. I was now headed to Denmark on my own. They arranged for me to sleep on an acquaintance’s couch. On my flight, I realized I knew her name but nothing else. No address, no phone number, nothing. My plane touched down around 10 p.m. I was kicking myself while I waited for my bag to arrive.

  There was an element of excitement from the craziness of the whole situation. After I tamped down my feelings of dread, I logged into the airport WiFi and found her on Facebook. Luckily she responded to my message, but the directions were too vague for my sleepy brain. It took two hours, a few buses, one train, and a short walk before I arrived. It was well past midnight when I finally got to sleep.

  The competition was just one day and the workouts were not announced until you were onsite. I was alone in Denmark; tired, nervous, and freezing cold. Still, I performed well and entered the final event with the top women. The final workout was similar to the CrossFit benchmark workout Fran, a brutal combination of thrusters and pull-ups with a repetition scheme short enough to allow you to sprint and inflict lots of pain on yourself in the process.

  I was nervous because I didn’t have butterfly pull-ups at the time. It wasn’t my best event of the day, but I managed to hang on. I won the competition and it was covered by local media and a few websites. I was thrilled and shocked by how much fun I had. It was super competitive and I had stepped up to the challenge. The whole experience was a huge confidence builder. I had stepped way outside my comfort zone and I was growing because of it.

  Open 2012

  In February, Annie transitioned to CrossFit Reykjavik and eventually she asked me to join her. I was flattered but also terrified. She proposed that we train together three or four times a week. The remaining days I would be left to my own devices. I can imagine the intent was to ensure I didn’t become a stage-5 clinger, but the uncertainty scared me. I was still so new and I was scared I wouldn’t know what to do on my non-Annie days.

  I think the owners of Bootcamp caught wind of it because they really started to pull me in and keep me around. They offered me incentives for staying, including free coaching and sponsorship to Regionals. They did come thr
ough with some coaching from CrossFit BC’s cofounder, Elvar por Karlsson. Elvar was great, but mostly he looked over my programming rather than hands-on coaching. Bootcamp was my safety net, which is ultimately why I stayed. I was breaking out of my shell, but I was anything but adventurous. I was very square and risk-averse. I felt safe there, so I stayed.

  Fear held me back from moving on with Annie. It damaged our friendship for a while. I could tell that she was disappointed in my decision and I felt I had missed out on the opportunity to train with the best female athlete in the sport. We had become good friends, but after that we didn’t talk for a while. I don’t like to dwell on things, but if I think about it, I do have some regrets. I had already learned so much from her and I could have gotten even better. I was sad that it put a strain on our relationship.

  I won almost every competition I entered that year and the momentum carried on into the CrossFit Games Open, the first qualifying stage for the Games. I was killing it. At the end of Week 3, my worst score for any workout was fourth place in Europe. It was me and Annie at the top of the leaderboard, then everyone else trailing dozens of points behind.

  A media team had traveled to Iceland for an interview with Annie. The production manager reached out to see if they could meet with me as well while they were in town. I was shocked but flattered by the attention and agreed to the interview. I met them at Armann, my old gymnastics gym. It was my first interview ever and I was incredibly nervous. I rambled a lot and spoke with a British accent, which came more naturally to me at the time. I didn’t know what to say or how to act, I was just a timid teenager who loved this rapidly growing sport.

  I continued to do well on the remaining Open workouts and finished each workout in seventh place or better out of all the women competing in Europe. I took second place in the overall standings, just 10 points behind Annie.

  The video didn’t publish until after the Open concluded. I was so excited about it until I saw the title they had chosen. The chosen title was “Another Annie.” I was sick to my stomach when I saw it. My relationship with Annie was already rocky at the time, and this certainly wasn’t going to help. I know it annoyed Annie, too. I had nothing to do with the title, but I felt the tension when it posted to social media.

  Beyond damage to our friendship, I was personally annoyed as well. I just wanted to be Katrin. Why did I have to be the next Annie? I hated the manufactured rivalry and the constant comparisons, but it was something I would have to get used to as Icelandic female CrossFit athletes continued to command attention.

  5

  ICELAND

  ÍSLAND

  I think, if the world can be saved, it will be by women.

  —VIGDÍS FINNBOGADÓTTIR, FORMER PRESIDENT OF ICELAND, AND THE FIRST DEMOCRATICALLY ELECTED FEMALE HEAD OF STATE IN THE WORLD

  When you drive away from the airport in Reykjavik it’s easy to feel like you’ve been tricked. Where the brochures and tourist websites promised fjords, volcanoes, and natural beauty, the harsh landscape surrounding Keflavík looks more like a barren wasteland. Scrub brushes and moss hug lava rock flats as far as the eye can see down to the north Atlantic Ocean a few miles away. This harsh environment combined with inconceivable natural beauty that awaits just miles in any direction have combined to forge a population more resilient than any other that I know of.

  Along with resilience, Icelandic people have a strong tradition of storytelling. Most agree these stories were born as a cure from the boredom that accompanied long, dark winters bundled around a fire. My grandmother loved the mythology of the island and recounted it for me when I was young. The rocks you see by the roadside, according to Amma, are unfortunate trolls who had been caught in the sun and turned to stone forever.

  We also have a strong sense of pride, despite our small size. Iceland is a tiny country with only 334,000 inhabitants on the whole island. But we play big and we think we can do anything. In our minds we are the biggest country in the world and we are hypercompetitive.

  From the moment you arrive on the island, you can feel its power. I am always floored by how empty the vast land can look. When you take the time to get a closer look, Iceland has some of Earth’s most amazing natural phenomenon. I love taking visitors to see the Northern Lights in the wintertime. Science-fiction movies are always being filmed here because of the otherworldly features like black sand beaches, lava flows, and waterfalls. There are geysers, volcanoes, and hot springs dotting the whole island. It really is the land of fire and ice.

  The weather changes from hour to hour and you can typically expect to encounter rain at some point during the day. We always prepare for anything when we leave the house. The same landscape under different conditions can look like a completely different world. The mountains can be cast in purple or pink with dark patches on the lava flows and a million different shades of green and gray. It’s all so naturally beautiful that it takes the breath away. It’s something I’ve never taken for granted.

  Even winter days with subzero temperatures are beautiful in their own way. The ground is coated in ice or snow and against it the sky becomes as blue as the Icelandic flag. As kids, we would play in the snow for hours, taking breaks only when our fingers and toes couldn’t take it any longer.

  Summers were the opposite, bringing beautiful temperatures and nearly twenty-four hours of sunlight. The energy you feel from so much sunlight is an incredibly invigorating phenomenon that you have to experience to understand. Iceland is a late country year round, but especially so in the summer months. Activities will often carry on until midnight and it’s not uncommon, even for families, to be out later than that.

  Icelandic people are hearty. In the CrossFit community, especially, people frequently ask me, “What’s in the water up there?” Ironically, part of the answer is in the question itself. Our natural resources are so pristine you can freely drink from wild streams without fear. It’s become a tourist attraction to buy a cup and drink from the flowing water. We also have an abundance of quality fish, seafood, and wild game.

  More important than what’s in the water is what’s in our blood. Iceland was originally settled by the Vikings as they explored westward in search of new lands and bounties. People who thrived here did so against the odds, especially back then. It’s a harsh environment for everything—from farming to building. You have to be tough just to survive, much less thrive. There’s something about the combination of inhospitable climates and cold weather that equates to a long and healthy life. Of course it’s less so now, but there was a time in Iceland where you had to be fit just to survive, and that blood still runs in our veins.

  * * *

  Iceland has, arguably, the highest level of gender equality in the world. This means I grew up with amazing female role models and never once thought being a woman was a limiting factor for what I could accomplish. Gender equality is more than a buzzword in Iceland—it’s built into our social contract. And we have gone to greater lengths than any other country to ensure equality is baked into our culture. In 2017, Iceland passed laws making it illegal to pay women less than men for the same job. Where it was already a social expectation, equality is now written into our laws. The law, which may sound like common sense, is the first of its kind in the world.

  We also have a history of leading from the front when it comes to female leaders. Iceland elected the world’s first female president, Vigdís Finnbogadóttir. She took office in 1980 and she was the president for sixteen years. I was three years old when she stepped down, but the mark she left on my generation helped to form how I see the world. She was a great president and is one of Iceland’s most notable celebrities.

  My grandparents were close with Vigdís through Afi’s job. There is a video of me at eighteen months old performing a song-and-dance routine for her that I had just learned. I was shouting the name of the song at her and roping her into my craziness. Needless to say, she’s an important role model. I like to imagine that dancing with the first female preside
nt in the world before I turned two somehow empowered my sponge-like baby brain and encouraged me to seek greatness in my own life.

  The expectations of women in Iceland have been raised over the years, not lowered. Growing up, I was never told that I wasn’t capable of something because I was a girl or that I shouldn’t be as strong as the men. I knew that I could do anything that anyone else could do. It didn’t mean it would be easy. But it was attainable. I was raised with this worldview and I would probably take it for granted if I hadn’t traveled the world.

  I notice gender roles far more in the United States. Women here seem to be told how to see the world far more than I was as a child: “Girls should like pink and play with dolls.” Or, “They shouldn’t speak their mind.” Or, “Women should be skinny and look good for cameras.”

  Don’t get me wrong; I am a girlie girl. I love to get manicures. I love sparkles and headbands and getting my hair done. But that’s my choice, and no one ever told me I had to be that way. Just like they never told me I couldn’t lift heavy weights or do pull-ups until my hands bleed. If I had wanted to do just about anything, I feel confident that I would have been supported. Young girls in the States seem to be pressured into a narrower funnel, which can be limiting. I hope that I can help to change that.

  I have never been afraid to be strong. As a little girl I would watch a Swedish show called Pippi Långstrump. The same character was less popular but present in the United States, where she was known as Pippi Longstocking. She was the strongest girl in the world, and she was my absolute hero. She could lift horses and she lived alone in her house. I thought all those things—her abilities, her strength, and her independence—were so cool. When I played in the yard, I would pretend to be Pippi getting into adventures and saving the world. LazyTown was another children’s show I watched. The name is a bit ironic, as it basically promoted healthy eating and physical education. I was always imitating the show’s dances and singing the songs.