I had a funny moment last week where I had a good chuckle at my own expense. I had just finished a kickboxing class at my Krav Maga studio (which they call Bag Class since you’re working on a heavy bag) and frankly, I had kicked some *ss. Not literal *ss, but figurative *ss. It was a great workout, really intense, I had sweated up a storm, and I felt great.
Which made me recall the day, a couple years earlier, I had looked into one of the bag classes going on while I was waiting for my class to start and thought to myself – whoa, I could never do that. The people in that class were wailing on the heavy bags, showing off cut arms and huge biceps, while sweating to the booming music. They looked strong, fierce and like they had stamina for days. I could only imagine what would happen to me if I tried to be in that class. Images of me passed out on the floor from exhaustion or throwing up into the trash can from overexertion filled my brain.
There was a lot of fear and saboteur voice happening that day (and for a while following). You know that voice – the one that says: You’re not [INSERT DESIRABLE ADJECTIVE HERE] enough. Or really just – you’re not enough. Grrrr.
After about a month of watching longingly as the people in this class got an amazing workout and looked like they even had some fun (you can imagine me with my nose pressed against the window making little puppy whimpering sounds), I decided – you know what, I want to have a great workout and have fun too!
I very nervously signed up for one of the classes, told the instructor (who was really friendly) that I hadn’t done this before and wasn’t really sure what the combinations were, and stood stiffly as the class started. Well, my favorite kind of music came blaring out the speakers, the instructor demonstrated combinations in slow motion enough that even I could pick them up, and soon I was lost in the heat, the noise and the hard work. When the instructor signaled for cool-down, I wondered why she was cutting things off early, until I looked at the clock and realized it had been an hour.
I was hooked. That day ended my streak of sitting on the sidelines, nose to the glass, wishing I could be part of that energy. And now, I take that class sometimes 3 times a week and LOVE IT. Look what my fear kept me from. Now, when something comes up that scares me, I think of that bag class. It doesn’t always inspire me to just dive in – sometimes I still press my nose to the glass and look in longingly – but now I have the other side to remind me what could be waiting for me if I do.