Growing up, there were certain things that came easy to me.
I was a better than average student, though not excellent,
but I realized very quickly I could get pretty good grades without having to
work too hard. This was excellent news
as I will (still to this day) go nuts if I’m told to sit in a room and study
something just because someone else thinks it’s good for me.
I began piano lessons the summer before second grade with a
teacher that had a long waitlist to become one of her students. So, when she had an opening and I was next on
the list I began lessons with her……even when just 2 weeks prior, I had broken
my wrist and was in a cast. I learned
about musical theory, was able to identify notes just by sound, and went on to
study with her for close to 10 years where I won State Competitions every year
except for 1. That 1 was a fluke – and I
was robbed, I tell you.
My parents let me take art classes during the summer and it
was discovered that my oil painting wasn’t too shabby. I remember doing the assigned painting of
Victoria Falls on Saturday afternoon in a back room at Michaels and my mother
took me to show it to my Grandparents.
And, I distinctly remember proudly showing it to my Granddaddy who met
me at the door of their home and the look in his eyes when he saw it. It was one of surprise and pure pleasure……and
gave me so much excitement to see.
I was in band throughout middle school and high school. Always trading out first chair week after
week with two other girls who shall remain nameless. (Ahem….you know who you are) On one particular day, I was asked to do the
chromatic scale on the Clarinet, and after I finished I remember the very
difficult to please Band Director whom I suspected never really liked me
because, well, I had an even bigger mouth back then, say, “Hmmm…..who knew
those short stubby fingers could do something like that?” I proceeded to give him my best smirk – which
was my way of saying – “That’s right! I
know you like these other two better, and I’m fully aware I don’t have the
hands of an excellent musician…… but I WILL rock this and show you where you
can shove it.”
All of these things also add to the reason of why I’m also such a
people pleaser. I have a smart mouth,
talk a big talk, but if I can make someone be proud of me….or force them to
compliment me even when they don’t want to…..I still get giddy inside.
Now, I’m not telling you all this to brag or be boastful……..I’m
telling you to show a stark contrast to how much of a struggle it is to conquer
things that absolutely do not come naturally to me.
I was NEVER good at sports or anything having to do with athletic coordination. I loathed gym
class….even more hated dodgeball day…..and when it came to summer camp when
most of the people were out during free rec time doing actual recreation? NOPE.
Not me. No way, no how. (Luckily I had the sense to have like minded
friends.)
So, tonight, when we had this episode of Conversations with
Mr. Trainer……I couldn’t help but want to do a happy dance. This new stage of my life is a LOT of hard
work, failures, tiny wins, and pure determination that is hard to come by even on the best
days.
Mr. Trainer is always
encouraging and never fails to miss an opportunity to do it, but we’ve also hit
a point of frustration with this process, and he knows it’s part of the gig to
be honest with me about it. The dang
scale has NOT MOVED a centimeter in a couple of months and we both have our
opinions on why, but his are much simpler than mine of course. And, while being an encourager and excellent
coach – he doesn’t hand out superfluous compliments. Which, with my Type AAA personality added
with the need to please can be even more frustrating to say the least.
So, he’s decided to change things up………A LOT.
A few months ago, he decided it would be fun to watch me do
squats on a Bosu ball. Don’t know what
that is? Take a look!
It’s a ball that when you flip it……..then stand on it……..it
takes every ounce of your being to not fall of the dreaded thing, much less do
a squat on it.
It was AWFUL. He held
on to me the entire time and it sucked eggs.
Truly.
Tonight – he decided it was high time to try it again. And amazingly, I did about ¾ of them without
having to hold on to him like my very life depended on it.
Mr. Trainer: “Well,
look at that. Even I didn’t know it
could be possible!”
Me: “Thanks so much for your faith you weasel.”
Mr. Trainer: “That’s what I’m here for.”
So, the evening continued and the deadlift portion of the
program began. I’ve mentioned before that I really do like deadlifts. Man, they are ROUGH - but they
strangely make you feel a little powerful….like my completely non-athletic body can actually be good at
something. But they are, for me, a TOTALLY, embarrassing thing to do in front of actual human beings.......your chest HAS to stick out to one end of the continent....and your butt to the other. Ridiculous, I tell you.
Then the 3rd round
began…and another trainer, Simon, whom we workout next to occasionally and I’m
always surprised at his super sweet, gentlemanly manners when he speaks to me, entered. (It's a gym after all and there's LOADS of testosterone raging)
Mr. Trainer to Simon: “I’m so proud of Mofabulous – look at THAT.”
Simon: “Man, she has awesome form. You must be a proud papa, huh?”
Mr. Trainer: “Well, let’s just say….she’s not the most
coordinated of people in the gym. But
everytime I see her do this, she nails it and I’m always surprised. It’s one of the best things she does. I have
two clients that have worked out with me for years and I can’t get them to have
even close to perfect deadlifts. It straight makes my day.”
Me: “Really?”
Mr. Trainer: “Yes. Of
course. Now, go run some stairs – 3 up,
3 down - and we’ll do another rotation.”
So, for the first time in my 8 months (this time) of working
out with Mr. Trainer…..I didn’t give one dramatic eye roll, not one bit of
hesitation…..and ran those stairs like I was Rocky himself.
I hadn’t realized how much I needed that one bit of
encouragement and recognition. I suppose
that makes me a person with a tad bit of an ego issue, but there it is, and
this is all a process of recognizing what moves me and what I need to work on.
I can, and will, not only do this – but will finish it. No matter how long that dang scale decides to
ignore me.
No comments:
Post a Comment