Last week a friend and I opted to try a kickboxing class. For me, it seemed like a great way to find a new exercise option. And it’s always easier to try something new when there’s a friend to go along and encourage you.
When my dad died at the end of 2015, I had been regularly working out in a class I’d been attending for four years. But the few months leading up to his passing were rough on my commitment. Between getting him settled into a nursing home, cleaning out his house and putting it up on the market to sell, and traveling for work on a daily basis, I hit a point of falling deeper into a downward spiral of not making my health a priority. Physically, I was exhausted. Emotionally, my usual “pull myself up by the bootstraps” self-talk was muffled by screaming thoughts of insecurity, paranoia, and self-loathing. As hard as I tried this past year, I couldn’t claw my way out of the pit of self-doubt to care enough about working out. So, I took a break – a good long one – that lasted until about two months ago when I had to get real with myself.
After two kickboxing classes, we joined. I love the challenge of something new and let’s face it, whacking a heavy bag hanging right in front of you does wonders for stress relief. The first class wasn’t pretty. Although I had a hard time believing it, no one was paying attention to me more than I. This mess of a middle-aged, out-of-shape woman had a lot of thoughts of inadequacy and beating myself up for letting my health go bad for so long that day.
About 20 minutes in, I thought I would pass out from the ten jumping jacks that started the class. I thought about skipping on out the door in a futile attempt to pretend I’d never even walked through the doors. It was the equivalent of the proverbial “one step forward, two steps back”. My thoughts were relentless, “Girl, what have you done?” “You’re an idiot.” “You don’t really have to do this.” “It would be easier if you just left.” “You’re too out of shape, Stupid.”
About 21 minutes in, I realized I needed to get outside my head and just let it out. Everyone has to start somewhere even if the starting point is further away from the last time you started. I recalled all the times in my life when things weren’t fair – being passed up for promotions at work, the loss of loved ones and beloved dogs to death, awards or acknowledgments that I felt were deserved but went to someone else, the loss of friendships that proved hollow and draining, the realization of and grief through infertility, hearing the words “you have cancer” and the fight I put up through the pain of it all.
If there’s one thing I’ve embraced in life – it’s the acceptance of knowing life isn’t fair. No one can make decisions for you or take care of you but you. But there’s a grace that comes into one’s life, when she realizes the greatest points in life aren’t always at the top. The greatest moments come when you’re digging deep through the pain of it all – regardless of what others around you are doing. That’s when you learn the most about what you’re made of and the areas that might need a little help!
As I whacked the bag in front of me – punch, punch, leg kick, punch – I dug a little deeper and somehow managed to push through those 50 minutes of gut-wrenching pain. I must’ve loved it more than I realized because I chose to go back this past Tuesday evening and paid good money to join. But five minutes into the warmup of running around the gym, I rounded the corner with others and found myself falling to the mat. It was like a slow-motion movie of Rocky being hit across the jaw and landing on the mat of a boxing ring.
I stumbled and tried to break my fall – but landed face down in the mat. People were jumping over me to finish their warm up, and I sat there – humiliated, heart pounding out of my chest, and my left big toe throbbing. The trainer walked over to me and tried encouraging me by telling me I wasn’t the first one to fall doing the same thing. Yay, me.
After the shock passed, all I could do was laugh. I sat there for a minute just replaying what had just happened and laughed and laughed. Mortified though, I jumped up and thought – I’ve been here before. I’ve tripped. I’ve fallen down hard so many times in life I’ve lost count. I’ve picked myself up when there was no one else to depend on. I’ve faced pain before and lived to share about what I learned. I’ve stood in front of what seemed like a punching bag I would never be able to move, and I’ve pushed a little harder.
And that’s what I did again to finish the class – pushed harder. Though my big toe throbbed through the rest of the class and began to bruise, I finished the class. It will be awhile before I can get back to my newfound activity, because I indeed broke my big toe – but it’s not going to beat me. I’m stronger today than I was yesterday, and that’s part of this journey. There’s no pinnacle for me here – no award – no recognition – just the continued perseverance to get a little better, stronger, and healthier day by day. Like Clairee Belcher says in the movie Steel Magnolias, “that which does not kill us, makes us stronger.”
What’s keeping you down right now? More importantly, what’s making you get back up?
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