Mirrors

I knew today was going to be a Hero WOD and I went anyway.   After today’s brutal workout, four of us hung around after class comparing our various sweat soaked shirts.   A way better conversation than after class earlier this week.   (I’ve moved on or am at least trying to, “Every moment you spend obsessing over what someone else is doing is one more moment you could have spent improving yourself, and possibly improving the lives of others.”)  My friend Liz talks about having gotten to know each other in the raw.   6 a.m. and we are all red in the face, gasping for air, drenched in our own sweat, and sometimes more than one of us looks like we’ve wet ourselves.  There are no mirrors at the box, thank heavens.   

I didn’t get it at first.  One doesn’t get to be nearly 300 pounds without disconnecting from one’s body.  I can no more tell you what my body is doing sometimes than what’s happening on a street corner in Moscow.   I’ve got no clue whatsoever.  Squatting below parallel?   No idea.  Abs engaged?   What abs?   Extension?  What the hell are they talking about?   I used to think that with a mirror at least I could see what I was doing.   I quickly got over that and will ask a classmate sometimes about what my body is or is not doing.  Without the mirror, we expend less effort on trying to look good or reflecting on how bad we look, and we can focus more energy on doing the work.   Looking ourselves in the mirror at the end of the day and asking ourselves if we gave it our all and did our best – now that’s a worthwhile exercise.  



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