I woke up and I was hurting from that stupid yoga class. The first thing that I thought of was that ninja lady, more than double my age, bending her bits like a newborn baby.
I wondered why I couldn’t do it? Actually I knew why I couldn’t do it! I didn’t want to. Yoga is fun for those who like blood rushing to their head and aching wrists. I’m not fond of either.
I felt the negativity sneaking in as I thought about S’bu, the personal trainer that drew the short straw and got me as his prize. The poor guy. I felt the fear sinking in too. When I signed up for this process, I didn’t consider all the elements. Yes, I knew it would be tough, but the pain you experience from physical exertion is long forgotten when you look in the mirror and see the results. Of course those results take time but the pain is there, right from the start. I knew that pain was coming in the form of S’bu. He was going to kill me.
I also needed to weigh in and get my official stats so I could record my progress. I understand that this is the beginning, and things are going to be tough and my weigh in is going to be bad, but nothing prepares you for that sinking feeling when you see everything in black and white.
After getting onto the machine and allowing it to confirm that my jiggly bits were indeed very jiggly, I found S’bu… he killed me!
I walked out of the gym feeling like I had been dragged behind a bus, my legs were a little wobbly and my lungs were angry…but I felt stronger for it. I survived!
I took a minute to calm my heart rate while I thought back to the minute I climbed out of bed. I had let a moment of fear determine my entire mood for the morning. I knew that if I were to allow that to happen, it would defeat me.
There is not enough space in this process for my butt and for fear.
That is all.