I had a couple of wins at the gym this morning.
I tend to avoid the really hectic times when the gym floor is a heaving, sweaty mass of humanity. If I don’t have a trainer in front of me clearing the way I feel like I want the floor to open up and swallow me whole.
Last week I had a workout scheduled on Monday, and I decided I was going to go mid-afternoon when it’s really quiet. Then, work happened, and my afternoon got eaten up with client visits and phone calls.
I wasn’t going to let that happen today, so I decided to go first thing, before I did anything else. I had a mental wrestle with myself about it last night, knowing how many people would be there and trying to make excuses to not go in the morning.
But I went, and it wasn’t so bad. I got there just before 7, which I think is actually a good time because it’s clearing out a bit.
The second win? I actually spoke out loud to someone to ask how many sets they had left on the leg press. And nothing bad happened – I wasn’t shouted at, no one laughed at me and my head didn’t explode. You know what DID happen? They said ‘oh I’m on my last set and it’s all yours’ and I got my workout done.
Shocking, I know.
But it actually felt like a big deal. On the gym floor right now, most of the time, I feel like a fraud. I feel like as soon as I deign to own my space, the lights will go out and a spotlight will come on and everyone will turn around and laugh and point.
It’s ridiculous, I know. But that’s some way to describing the way I feel sometimes.
Today I am grateful Essendon only plays once a week. I honestly could not take more than that the emotional trauma the boy goes through every time they lose.
A positive thing about myself today: see above. Owning my own space and feeling like I have a right to do so. Or, at least, working up to that.