There’s a first time for everything

Smile on my face and tears in my eyes

I’m a Marine. One of the non negotiables in Marine Corps boot camp was the use of the word ‘Can’t’. There were severe penalties not only to yourself, but your fellow recruits. It’s a good rule in life. I like it. We use it in our home to this day. There is no ‘Can’t’. Only, I will try. I will do my best. So on and so forth. ‘Can’t’ is not a word or a state of mind that I subscribe to, but I probably came the closest I’ve ever been in my life to saying it during my consultation and evaluation workout.

Sounds so serious you might say. It was. To me. I’ve done a lot of hard things in my life. I don’t say that as a boast, I say it as a fact. A point of reference for everything I’m about to write. I went into this looking for change, but had no idea how much I was about to find, and how quickly it would start happening.

My consultation was on a Monday night. The process was fast and smooth. My trainer handles things like a well oiled machine, assigning weight amounts, movements and motivation. No notebooks, no workout logs or books. Just you, your equipment and her direction.

When asked what the heaviest kettle bell I’d ever used was, I responded with “About 25lbs”. Not having used them a lot, I was floored when I was met with “Go get a 50lb kettle bell”. I grabbed my kettle bell, other equipment and set up.

The room is hot. Hot from the heat. Hot from people working out. Really hot. If you know me, at all, and even if you don’t, know this. I. Hate. The heat. I grew up in 120 plus degree heat and would be thrilled to be knee-deep in snow on a daily basis. But enough of that…..

There is no easing in. There is no warm-up. Well, correction. When you get to the studio, you can jump rope, elliptical, treadmill, whatever you choose until you begin to get assigned equipment to start. You definitely want to warm up. Once things start, you’re off like a starving man chasing a Dachshund with a bun. The moves, the lifting, the pushing, the pulling. Everything is fast. And hard. Take that in any manner you wish, you dirty birds.

There is no water until you complete the reps assigned in a movement. It IS, a motivating factor. There isn’t a lot of stopping except for moments you’d like to breathe, dry sweat from your eyes or the floor, or the weights. For someone like myself, with absolutely zero cardio strength, this was challenging.

I was told that as long as you’re being honest and completing your reps, to do them and not to worry. So I was slow, but I kept moving. At least it felt like it. What I actually looked like, I couldn’t say.

Maybe just add that everyone is working at their own levels but everyone is working hard

Now, there came a moment. I’m not sure when it was, but I’m guessing halfway through the workout. The moment where I couldn’t tell you a damned thing. I don’t mean that I was so winded that I couldn’t speak, although that would be accurate; I mean, I don’t remember the middle of my workout. I obviously didn’t black out. I was still standing. I was still moving. But I could not for the life of me, tell you what I did, what was going on. Nothing.

This is new. Very new. Not a lot of things surprise me, but, as they say, there’s a first for everything. My mind began to come back to me about 3/4’s of the way through the workout. This is where everything in me, in my body, in my mind, in my soul, started to shift. I know that this sounds deep and intense, but it doesn’t even begin to touch on the things that were going on in my mind.

At about that point, I was in the room opposite of where I started. I was doing what many of you are probably familiar with; Bear Crawls. Forward and backward Bear Crawls. I had to Bear Crawl to a wall and back a couple of times. During the second Bear Crawl, I got to the wall, and had an experience that has never happened to me. Ever. I stayed in Bear Crawl position, and slowly leaned my forehead up against the wall.

I’m sure that I was probably on there for 20 seconds or so, but it felt like a full minute or two. As sweat dripped off of my forehead, and I noticed that my arms all the way down to my hands were actually sweating, I had a string of thoughts run through my mind. Here, is exactly what the thought was:

“You don’t have to do this. This is completely voluntary. You don’t even have to finish this workout. You can stand up. Walk out the door. And never come back.”

This may not seem like a big deal to anyone reading this, but to anyone who knows me, you’ll know why it was. When I later shared it with my wife, she was surprised. I have a certain view of myself. I wouldn’t call it conceited. Not by a long shot. I am however, confident. I like who I am on the whole, and I know that I’m a hard worker. I have also always considered myself a strong person. Emotionally and physically. Even when over weight, I was always able to move a decent amount of weight.

At that moment, I didn’t feel like I could lift a piece of sand. Emotionally. Physically. In any way. I wondered for a moment “Who the fuck are you?!” I had zero cardio, what felt like zero strength, and my emotions were all over the map. This was ‘just a workout’, right? Why was I spinning in five different directions? I didn’t know, and that moment was not the moment to figure it out.

I snapped out of it and told myself to move. So I turned around and finished my Bear Crawls and whatever else the rest of the workout was. When it was over. I thanked God, Buddha and every other entity that I could think of. I was drenched in sweat, which was another new thing for me. It’s not that I haven’t worked hard in other things I’ve done. I sweat. But I’ve never looked like I just stepped out of a water balloon fight.

I was then talked to by my trainer, was advised of what my rate would be if I decided to train there, and that I had a certain amount of time to sign my six month contract.

I wanted to cry.

Instead, I paid, signed my contract and said I’d be back in a day.

I cried on the way home. The tears are another post.