Since my regular gym is a corporate one and doesn’t open on the weekends, I’ve been going downstairs to the little condo workout room in my building on Saturdays and Sundays.
It doesn’t have a whole lot of equipment – just barely what I need to accomplish my strength goals. More importantly, it is quiet and peaceful. I am the only one who is ever in there. And I am free to make a spectacular jackass of myself as I attempt a new or more complicated routine.
So it saddens me this week to say goodbye to the comfort and familiarity of what I have come to claim as my own secret and private space.
I have simply outgrown it.
To keep benefitting from weekend training, I need continue challenging myself at a big boy gym.
The first time I step on the floor with the monster 300-pound guys is Independence Day. I am scared and terrified. I don’t know if I will perform adequately in comparison. I don’t know if I can lift respectably by contrast. I am afraid to be utterly humiliated.
I find an open bench. I flip open my log book. I read the plan for the day. I take a swig of energy drink. I select my weights. I pick them up. I take a deep breath. And I begin.
Nobody stops to point and laugh.
Automatically, all the good coaching from the past kicks in. I remember to push with the right tempo and form. I inhale and exhale with the movement. I successfully finish my first set of presses.
I am on my own and doing just fine.
Fear of the unknown has prevented me from attempting many things before. I know now that while I am dependent on Grace for many things, I can be independent as long as The Word guides my actions and thoughts.
And that’s how eventually all little guys grow up.