Since we are being inundated with information and emotion about the Boston Marathon bombings, I'm skipping that topic for now.
As I walked out of my house today to dusty, smoky, 45 mph winds, I immediately felt frustration rise in my throat and my chest start to tighten. I was on my way to the gym, and this air, combined with this altitude, promised me a morning of tears.
I almost went back inside, but plugged along to the gym, put my stuff in my locker and headed into the cardio-yoga-killmenow class, sucking on my inhaler, knowing it was going to be just like last week -5 minutes in and a full blown asthma attack.
SO, as I took a deep breath, I decided even if all I could do was sway back and forth rhythmically to the music, I was going to stick out the whole class.
The teacher was glad to see me and VERY glad to see I'd remembered my inhaler. She said I'd already won by just showing up, and to do what I could.
So I felt all the tense muscles relax a bit, remembering that everyone else in the class is really nice and not particularly judgemental.
and I SLAMMED the class. Slammed it. Okay, I wasn't doing level 3 movements (meaning putting air between you and the floor on the jumps) but I did way better than I assumed and did not once have an irrepressible urge to run out the door crying. This is a big plus.
I showed up. I did my best. My best, against all odds, turned out to be pretty good.
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