...it is not by the sword or the spear that the Lord saves...1Sam 17:47

I will dance and resist and dance and persist and dance. This heartbeat is louder than death. “ — Suheir Hammad

Thursday, March 21, 2013

My Own Effin Boot Camp

Caving to pressure from a couple friends, I decided that yes, today I would wake up at an unGodly hour to go to a 6AM boot camp class at my gym.  I normally shudder past it around 6:30, wincing at the yelling and loud horrible music on my way to the treadmill or weight room.

Not today!  Set my alarm extra early, pre-packed for the next day, went to bed extra early... when I arrived this morning, discovered it was cancelled when only four people showed up, none of whom were the instructor.

I scowled. Fumed, even. "NOW I have to figure out what to do on my own!!"  Grrr.  I'd had some coffee but it obviously hadn't made it all the way through my system yet.

"Fine! I'll go to the weight room."  I stalked on up.

I tend to avoid the weight room in the very early morning because there is an older man there who always glares at me like I'm personally offending him by existing.  I made a point this morning to smile at him as big and genuinely as possible, to which he responded by giving me a look of disgust and turning away.  I didn't care because my gym crush ALSO happened to be there, and he did smile at me with that adorable crinkle-eyed smile, and so all was right with the world.  I had my ipod with me so I could tune out the music which always seems to sound like someone going through electroshock therapy.  I could ignore that my gym crush was about to see my ugly weightlifting face.

I spent a couple minutes thinking about what I wanted to do, and I won't bore you with the particulars... just to say, I CRUSHED the workout this morning.  Absolutely crushed it.  I challenged myself, practiced things I'm not yet good at, got my heart rate way up, worked my back, arms, core, and did not think for one moment I didn't belong there just because I was the only woman in that room at that moment.

When I got to the locker room to get ready for work, I felt elated.  Strong, sweaty, sore and tired in a good way.  I texted my trainer to brag and celebrate and get affirmation (Seriously, he has got to think he got saddled with an extra kid when he took me on, but he is cool with it, and so I am, too.  He is very affirming.)

When I went to the mirror to fix my hair, I looked myself in the eye and thought, Look what you did today -all by yourself, doing extra sets just because you could, no one cheering you on, no one even noticing.

Then I had a domino cascade of revelations:

1.  I did not once think, oh, class is cancelled, I'm going home;
2.  I did not look in the mirror and immediately see my pouchy tummy or mighty bat-wings;
3.  I did not think, I'm pissed off, I'm getting a peppermint mocha on the way to work;
4.  I did not think, I need to stay out of the way of the "real" athletes.

I did think:

1.  I wonder if I can do that? I think I'll try.
2.  I did X weight before, let's add some.
3.  Can I do 5 more? Let's find out.
4.  This is my space, walk around me.

Until just a couple months ago, I was concerned that if I didn't have my awesome trainer and my awesome therapist, that I would not be able to continue all the good work I've done up to this point.  I realized recently, in a quiet sort of way, that all the hand-holding and special help I needed the last two years accomplished something even bigger in me -the realization that I can do this work now without so much dependence on other people.

I've worked through the big stuff that weighed me down and required a lot of help to make through intact.  Old fear, lack of confidence, being convinced that I'm not supposed to exist so I'm always in the way seem a world away and another person's life.  All that garbage in my head... crushed it.

I am in awe of the work God has done in me, and so, so grateful for His healing love.

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