Saturday, October 19 – Donuts and Tractor Wheels
That line between Success and Failure – she’s a pretty fickle mistress, that’s for sure. (“Line” en Français is feminine, so I’m not being sexist here.)
I’m not telling you anything you or I haven’t heard before, but some days it gets very clearly demonstrated. Today at Weightlifting Class (WC – from here on in) was one of them.
We are a pretty regular group, we WC gals and guys. Many of the gals look to me like the Williams sisters – you wouldn’t want to mess with them. And the guys, just being lads, can push more than most gals. Me, I’m a “soup-canner” – I lift and press and squat with what’s comfortable for me. And I’m happy with that, because it’s more than “future-self” will be able to do if “present-self” doesn’t do it now.
Enter the lad with the T-shirt that says something like “Go Big or Go Home.” And the weights he is putting on for warm-up look like tractor wheels. I normally don’t care about these things – I’m so busy making sure my little donuts don’t fly off the bar, or that I don’t lunge onto someone else’s foot. But today I looked at the giant mirrors and I saw a few folks visibly sag, having looked at what “Go Big” was carrying.
So off we go, and I have to tell you that I love WC. I’m in the front row and my arms are trembling by song three, but I’m smiling because anything I’m doing today, I could not have done a month ago. And two months ago, I would never have considered bringing my spaghetti arms into a weightlifting class. But our “GB” lad doesn’t seem to be having fun yet. He’s frowning; he’s groaning. The 700 repetitions of lifts, presses, squats and push-ups can be a real *#$%!
And – maybe it’s just me – but some of our major lifters don’t seem as happy either. What’s going on here? I guess it’s that, ultimately, it’s not size that matters – it’s COMPARATIVE size. And picking a fair point of comparison in weightlifting or any of other life’s works isn’t an easy job. But it’s the difference between feeling triumphant or tragic.
*****
When I first started going to exercise classes at the local gym, it was easy because I was thrilled. Thrilled because I walked in to register. Thrilled because I got a T-shirt and gym bag. Thrilled because I could shower off after (though I still shower at home.) Thrilled because I had the nerve to walk into a class and try anything at all.
Was there any part of this that was frustrating? Almost all of it, but “newness” got me through the first hump. And then, when the newness wore off, “improvement” kept me going. This was true for Weightlifting, Yoga, Zumba and Tready (the evil treadmill.) But then I hit the point where the initial hyper buzz was gone, and I’d made most of the progress I’m going to make. Then all of a sudden, it’s maintenance – with days when I do a little better (Sweaty Success!) and days when I am useless (Abject Failure...)
What keeps one going? I’m a big fan of the phrase “to what end?!” By that I mean, if you are doing something useless or harmful and have the option of stopping or running away, you should. But what about when something is good thing to do, but not required, and it’s getting pretty routine and, at times, discouraging. (This is after you’ve weighed your options and made a good choice.)
I call this the “suck it up, buttercup” phase - healthy routine is a good thing. But I also believe that for an optional thing to continue, it’s got to be happy – at least it does for me. And for this gal, the happiness comes from relationships. I make a point of having a brief “hello chat” with the folks at the front desk and closest to me on the gym floor. I’m in the front row so I feel I have a rapport with the instructor. (I know I’m one smile in a sea of faces; I don’t expect the instructor to feel she has a connection with me.)
And I know this is different for everyone. Some of my friends and family members would rather chew off their own fingers than have an unnecessary interaction. But that’s their story to tell.
Monday morning, I’ll be there at Weightlifting. I wonder if GB will be. I only wish I had a T-shirt that said, “Small but still here!”
I’m not telling you anything you or I haven’t heard before, but some days it gets very clearly demonstrated. Today at Weightlifting Class (WC – from here on in) was one of them.
We are a pretty regular group, we WC gals and guys. Many of the gals look to me like the Williams sisters – you wouldn’t want to mess with them. And the guys, just being lads, can push more than most gals. Me, I’m a “soup-canner” – I lift and press and squat with what’s comfortable for me. And I’m happy with that, because it’s more than “future-self” will be able to do if “present-self” doesn’t do it now.
Enter the lad with the T-shirt that says something like “Go Big or Go Home.” And the weights he is putting on for warm-up look like tractor wheels. I normally don’t care about these things – I’m so busy making sure my little donuts don’t fly off the bar, or that I don’t lunge onto someone else’s foot. But today I looked at the giant mirrors and I saw a few folks visibly sag, having looked at what “Go Big” was carrying.
So off we go, and I have to tell you that I love WC. I’m in the front row and my arms are trembling by song three, but I’m smiling because anything I’m doing today, I could not have done a month ago. And two months ago, I would never have considered bringing my spaghetti arms into a weightlifting class. But our “GB” lad doesn’t seem to be having fun yet. He’s frowning; he’s groaning. The 700 repetitions of lifts, presses, squats and push-ups can be a real *#$%!
And – maybe it’s just me – but some of our major lifters don’t seem as happy either. What’s going on here? I guess it’s that, ultimately, it’s not size that matters – it’s COMPARATIVE size. And picking a fair point of comparison in weightlifting or any of other life’s works isn’t an easy job. But it’s the difference between feeling triumphant or tragic.
*****
When I first started going to exercise classes at the local gym, it was easy because I was thrilled. Thrilled because I walked in to register. Thrilled because I got a T-shirt and gym bag. Thrilled because I could shower off after (though I still shower at home.) Thrilled because I had the nerve to walk into a class and try anything at all.
Was there any part of this that was frustrating? Almost all of it, but “newness” got me through the first hump. And then, when the newness wore off, “improvement” kept me going. This was true for Weightlifting, Yoga, Zumba and Tready (the evil treadmill.) But then I hit the point where the initial hyper buzz was gone, and I’d made most of the progress I’m going to make. Then all of a sudden, it’s maintenance – with days when I do a little better (Sweaty Success!) and days when I am useless (Abject Failure...)
What keeps one going? I’m a big fan of the phrase “to what end?!” By that I mean, if you are doing something useless or harmful and have the option of stopping or running away, you should. But what about when something is good thing to do, but not required, and it’s getting pretty routine and, at times, discouraging. (This is after you’ve weighed your options and made a good choice.)
I call this the “suck it up, buttercup” phase - healthy routine is a good thing. But I also believe that for an optional thing to continue, it’s got to be happy – at least it does for me. And for this gal, the happiness comes from relationships. I make a point of having a brief “hello chat” with the folks at the front desk and closest to me on the gym floor. I’m in the front row so I feel I have a rapport with the instructor. (I know I’m one smile in a sea of faces; I don’t expect the instructor to feel she has a connection with me.)
And I know this is different for everyone. Some of my friends and family members would rather chew off their own fingers than have an unnecessary interaction. But that’s their story to tell.
Monday morning, I’ll be there at Weightlifting. I wonder if GB will be. I only wish I had a T-shirt that said, “Small but still here!”