Pride is a Bitter Pill – Finding the Iron Again
I had to swallow a couple of those bitter pills yesterday when I walked into a weight room for the first time in months. (I haven’t been to a gym since last fall.)
Some of you may recall the craziness that became the telenovella of my life on September 4th when the house I was renting went on the auction block due to foreclosure. (The fact that it was even in foreclosure was a complete surprise to me and my two housemates.) After that, there were early morning visits from constables with eviction orders and the ridiculous dramatics of Annetta Short’s departure.
After a verbal altercation about whether or not I could use the DVD player in the “Family Room” (she shut it off and yelled at me, I turned it on, she shut it off and yelled at me, I turned it on again), Ms. Short approached my person in an intensely aggressive manner to which I responded by standing up from my chair, taking a step forward and very sternly saying in a speaking volume “You stop and think about your next move.”
She did, and walked away quietly.
Then she disappeared.
Then things in the house started to disappear, so my other housemate and I changed the locks.
About a month later, after absolutely no attempted contact whatsoever, Annetta showed up with a moving company and a constable with a court order to allow her entry. She couldn’t just call and say “I’m going to move my stuff out this week”, no, that’s not how she rolls. It’s got to be dramatic.
So my gym visits fell by the wayside during those days and nights when I wondered if the crazy ex-housemate would sneak in and kill me as I slept.
Back to yesterday…Here I am again, starting over.
My first lift was the leg press. Talk about swallowing my pride! I had to remove 500lbs of plates someone had left on it just so I could press 100lbs. I felt like a sissy.
And so it went through the whole workout. Lat pulldowns, pulley pushdowns, stiff legged deadlifts, bench press, upright row and standing barbell curls.
Weights that had never been used before because they were so small were squealing with glee. I could hear them shouting to the big weights “Little weights need love too!”
I was convinced others were tallying my weights. Of course they weren’t, but it was the same self-conscious feeling I used to have when I was overweight and would walk into a gym. On the one hand, I feel paranoid as hell but on the other hand, I’m saying “At least I’m here!”
Today my muscles are tender. I don’t want to say “sore” because it sounds so negative. They’re tender enough for me to know that I did some work and my muscles are growing because of it. Just to prove the tenderness wouldn’t slow me down, I biked the kids to school today. I didn’t have to stand on my pedals to get my bike & kiddie trailer up the big hill today.
Yeah, even with tender muscles from yesterday’s lifting, that was a big win.
It was worth swallowing my pride.