At the start of June I began something new.
Well not new entirely but something that I had put on the back burner for almost two years because as mom’s we often come in last, checking off everyone else’s lists and neglecting our own.
We do all the things for all the people, but we forget that we matter too, and it was in this last year, when I had cancer and wasn’t able to do all the things, that I realized that there was no greater gift than your health and that if I didn’t prioritize myself no one else would.
I knew what I needed to do, but I was stuck.
So, after almost two years of doing workouts in my own basement, with no loud rocking music, no coach to encourage me and no motivation aside from the numbers creeping up on the scale, I decided to take the plunge and join a place called F45 which is high intensity training that combines elements of both circuit training and functional training.
It’s a workout not made for wimps, and I was terrified.
I admit that the morning I was about to start I was nervous. Like first day or school jitters and anxious that I would fail.
Their Instagram feed was full of beautiful, fit people, outfitted in all their matching lululemon outfits and looking fitness cover model ready, while I on the other hand, was far from that.
Like many of us often do I almost talked myself out of showing up.
This will be too hard for me.
I am not at the right level.
I don’t look or feel fit enough to be there.
And as I packed lunches that morning, a little quieter than I normally am, my oldest daughter asked me what was wrong.
“Mom, you don’t seem yourself today, everything okay?”.
I debated lying and brushing it off with an ‘I’m fine’, but the truth was I needed to share my fear with someone, and she was the only one around.
I expressed all of my doubts and fears and nervousness and then my thirteen year old looked me dead in the eye, held her arms open for a hug and told me to “just show up.”
Three simple words that I will never forget.
“Just show up.”
I smiled at her as she went on to assure me that showing up was the hardest part. That all I had to do was show up, get there, try it and give my best.
Sounded simple, so I did just that.
I showed up.
That first day I just so happened to join on the hardest workout day that they have and in the final two-minute stretch I had to lie on the mats and pray that I didn’t throw up, but I did it.
I showed up.
So fast forward, two weeks later.
My daughter was set to run the 400 metres for her school track meet.
She had done a little training, running at recess with her friends and a couple times at the track with her Dad. Like me, she was nervous but she was ready.
The day before the meet however, she was informed by her coach that he had made a mistake and that at the grade seven level there was no 400 metres it was only 800 metres.
He brushed it off like it was no big deal, telling her it was just a bit longer, but truth is that 400 metres is one full lap around the whole track and 800 metres is double that, with two full laps around.
She is a competitive dancer so gets her endurance from that but by no means is she a runner, so this doubling of her distance was a big deal.
She came home all fired up and teary, doubting herself and questioning if she should even do it, just like I had two weeks earlier.
I listened to her fears and let her yell and cry it out and then when she stood in front of me looking deflated, with her eyes staring into mine looking for answers, I simply smiled and said… “just show up.”
Those three simple words again.
They brought a smile to her face.
We are not a family of quitters. We invest in everything we do, so when the challenge arrives, although we are scared, and nervous and anxious… we show up.
After I said those words I paused and opened my arms for a hug, just like she had done for me.
“But it’s not that easy mom,” she sighed. “This is like double the time I was supposed to run, and I don’t want to embarrass myself.”
I hugged her close and assured her that as long as she showed up, it wouldn’t be embarrassing.
All we can do is all we can do.
We can’t give more than we have in our tank.
We can’t make magic happen.
But what we can do is show up.
My husband and brother assured her that a race that long was all about pace, that she just had to keep a good pace, not go too fast to burn out and not go too slow to trail behind.
So, the next morning, amped up on courage and adrenaline that little firecracker who is half the size of most girls her age, paced herself and not only finished without embarrassing herself, but she came in 3rd out of 14 girls. Her time was decimal points away from qualifying for the next level, but it was never about the placement anyway.
It never is.
It is about effort.
About embracing and tackling hard things.
About showing up for no one else but yourself.
About pushing through when it’s easier to fall down.
About showing up.
Just show up.
Because as my life motto goes, “you don’t stand a chance if you don’t take a chance.”
Starting out is always the hard part, but when we show up for nothing other than ourselves we can never fail.
We’ve Got This.
@half_full_most_days