There Was a Time

We had some painters come today to finish up some odds and ends around the house. I had just started my workout, was sufficiently sweating like a beast, ahem, “glistening”, and the thought crossed my mind to just stop the workout and sit down. I could always just “do it later”. I mean really? Work out? In front of people?

Why?

Why not continue my workout? Because it might be awkward? Because I might fling sweat in the painters’ general direction? What if I look silly? Or fall down? They’ll probably think I’m nuts. (Egads! The horror!)  No sense in confirming my status as nut job by going all Jim Carrey and beating myself up, so I settled for a mental beat down:

“Stop. No excuses. Right now. Do the damn workout. Who cares?!”

There was a time when I hated running outside. I hated it when cars would pass. I wouldn’t make eye contact with other runners as they flew by me. I thought I’d left that fearful girl behind a while ago. She apparently thought it was time for an encore. She thought wrong.

Here’s how it all shook out:

Five minutes in: I’m doing my jumping jacks, and breathing heavily. I was VERY aware that there were people in the room trying not to pay attention to me. Did I fall down? Thankfully, no. Eh, a little awkward perhaps, but I was too busy trying not to die that it didn’t really matter once I’d made the decision to keep going. The bonus: because there were people around, I grabbed the heavier weights. No sense in looking weak AND crazy! Just crazy strong!

Thirty minutes in: Don’t die, don’t die, don’t die. At least there will be witnesses here to report my death to the authorities, I think briefly.

Beginning of the last set: Nearly fall in a puddle of my own sweat, but narrowly save my rear from falling on the tile floor by doing the ever graceful, “Whoa-feet-fling-out-but-don’t-fall” maneuver. I looked like I had a momentary seizure. Once recovered from the near-reenactment of “I’ve fallen and I can’t get up” commercial, I contemplate mopping the floor later.

Later: Never mop the floor because I’m all jacked up on endorphins and pride in the fact that I didn’t let fear win. I did my workout as planned. I smashed it. (Or it smashed me.) IT GOT DONE. No one said a word (that I could hear, anyway). I didn’t die. My point is this. Do You. Even if it’s not convenient or ideal. Even if you think people are going to laugh. So what? Their opinions are none of your business.

There was a time when fear ruled. That time is over.