Then & Now
Thursday, July 12, 2012
Last night I spent an hour sprinting with the other boot camp ladies. Again I found myself thinking about the differences between my first boot camp and this one.
Then: I was shy, insecure, and afraid of making mistakes. I hid in the back row and didn't say much. I dreaded diagonal sprints because we had to go one at a time, and I was afraid of people judging me. I got passed by a lot of people, and I felt bad about going slow.
Now: Last night I purposely stood beside the youngest girl there. She's 19 and plays basketball for her school. She's a lot taller than me, and I knew she'd be faster. I stood next to her because I knew it would make me push that much harder. Every sprint I was behind her and focused on reducing the space between us.
We did diagonals, and I felt strong. My form felt really good, and another boot camper even commented on it. I didn't think about anyone else when it was my turn. I just gave it all I had. I passed a couple people, and I made sure to congratulate the women as I passed. Everyone worked really hard last night. Some of those women are amazing.
I feel like I rediscovered my ability to push hard last night. I had just finished my Zumba class, which is a good workout, and my legs were tired. I had already done a lot of exercise this week, and I was worried about being able to give it my all. I don't like to go half-effort when I work out. If I'm going to exercise (especially something like boot camp) then I am going to leave it all on the field (or in the gym).
I was worried, but I knew I couldn't think that way. I stopped thinking about the hour of hard exercise before me, and I took it sprint by sprint, moment by moment. Each sprint I would stare down the field, take a breath, and tell myself - it's just this quick sprint. 30 seconds and it's over. It totally worked. I kept up with my younger sprinting buddy (and also Keely). I felt my speed increasing, and my form was solid. I left the field knowing that I couldn't have given any more. I was exhausted, but in a pleasantly satisfied way.