I left a workout class yesterday feeling a grocery long list of horrible things about myself. I took off from working out to replace that single free hour of my day with things far more appetizing, like alarm-snoozed sleeps and coffee-toasted meet-ups with friends.
My body felt yucky. My muscles laughed as I tried to lift 8 pound weights and I found myself out of breath after minutes.
I felt down about myself. I felt like maybe it would be best to just stop working out completely since I was so past the point of being in shape. I felt embarrassed and out of love with my body.
Today I forced myself to take another class. I put on a Black Friday purchased 60% off matching workout outfit from Old Navy and walked in to the class wondering if everyone was thinking the awful things I was about myself.
But I lifted the weights and I did the burpees and I pushed my body up and down, for minutes straight.
Halfway through the class, the instructor came over to me, and said: “Wow, you’re so strong.”
And I let one weight drop out of my hand and I clenched the other with sheer confusion.
“No I’m not,” I said, trying to rid myself of the compliment.
“Yeah,” he continued. “Yeah, you are.”
And I tell you this not to brag about someone calling ME strong for the first time in my entire life at a workout class but because all of us, alllll of us, give up on ourselves far too fast. We try, we fail. We worry about trying again. We ping-pong mean thoughts in our noggin’ and we box ourselves up and refuse to give into progress, to try small steps toward big things.
To remember that one day we may be something, something we’re not happy about, only to be something entirely different the next day.
What I’m saying is don’t be the one to give up on yourself. Please, don't give up on yourself.