My emotions were running a little rampant today, but I think they’ve finally settled back into their favorite happy place. I’m in for the evening, dressed in my comfy, extraordinarily soft flannel Victoria’s Secret baby-pink striped jammies. I just polished off a delicious dish of Chipotle knock-off food, and my kids are bonding over some sci-fi television show.
Thank god it’s Friday.
I just texted my girlfriend who is always looking for the best place to pick up men, and I told her to put Home Depot on her Friday night list. I stopped by to run an errand, and I got way more attention than I’ve ever seen at a bar. But I was looking for washer fluid, not a date.
Gym time was interesting today. I’m really seeing some great definition in my upper body, and I admired myself as long as I dared to in the mirrors. Coach doesn’t seem to judge me for being a little full of myself at times.
However, my behavior today elicited a serious lecture from my mentor, the likes of which I’ve never heard. He was mad at me – really mad. I know sometimes I frustrate him and get under his skin, but today, he looked genuinely pissed at me.
I listened to his reprimand with wet eyes, but his message was not punishing. Quite the contrary – he was angry with me for the kindest of reasons. Yet again, Coach was doing one of the things he does best. He was teaching me to love myself. His speech was so much more effective than the one we’ve all heard and delivered – “You’re Special, Blah, Blah, Blah.” Those words fall on deaf ears when I’m on my pity pot, and he knows it. He grabbed my attention in a brilliant way, expressed his own emotions, and called me on my shit.
I sat there, on a bench in the weight room, stunned.
Listening to him and watching how he operates is sort of like the first time I ever watched Cirque du Soleil perform in Las Vegas – not your average circus. It’s like my grandmother coming from Speedway, Indiana, to New York City – she couldn’t keep her balance because she couldn’t stop staring up at the sky-scrapers. It’s shocking. It’s a new world of spell-binding experiences that are hard to describe. His world is foreign to me, but it rings of Truth and Goodness.
And I think I’m pretty damned lucky to have him correcting my form.