So, life has been sort of escaping from me at the moment, which may not be my favorite feeling in the world. But it does make the shining, little, ray-of-sunshine moments stand out like the glowing outline the sun leaves on the inside of your eyelids.
This happened at some point last week, but I haven’t really had a chance to write.
I burst into crossfit about .86 seconds before the beginning of class, barely containing the rant about work that was just dying to escape from my lips. Glad to see a couple of friends there, I bee-lined over and informed them that they had to let me share their deadlift bar for warm-ups because I would be too late to set up my own once I had changed clothes.
Obviously, this wasn’t a day that I was feeling contained. Not a day on which I looked like an expert at anything or felt like I was going to rock the WOD. I just wanted to get a WOD in. End of story.
I usually make an effort to talk to the new people when I see them instead of just heading for my friends. (I still vividly remember the terror I felt when I first joined the “real” classes.) This particular day, I just didn’t have the energy to look around and see if anyone looked lost or was warming up by themselves. I wasn’t really thinking about it, when I turned around and saw one of our newest members warming up behind me. She looked familiar. I was sure I’d introduced myself (possibly multiple times—it happens frequently), but I couldn’t remember her name.
She was obviously done adding weight and was practicing with the bar she planned to use for the WOD. I don’t usually coach anybody unless they ask for advice, but without even thinking about it, I shook my head and said, “Too easy.”
And I knew I was right.
She looked a bit startled. “I don’t know. It feels pretty heavy.”
This was a conversation that I’d been on the other end of on many occasions. “No, it looks easy. Here, try this bar. Don’t worry; it’s supposed to be heavy.”
In the end, she added 20 more pounds, which made me happy. After I finished my workout, I asked a friend what the new girl’s name was. I felt like I should maybe cheer her on a bit before she finished, because she was probably cursing my name right now for making the end of her WOD just that much more painful.
After the clock had stopped counting and all the weights were put away, I was brainlessly chatting away and procrastinating leaving for the three-mile tempo run I still had to fit in that day. New Girl walked over to me.
“Hey, I just wanted to say thanks for making put more weight on my bar. I would never have done that on my own.”
I smiled, because I know I say some variation of these exact words to Coach at least once a week: “Thanks for making me . . .” And those are the days that I leave feeling best about myself because I just finished something I didn’t think I could do.
My offhanded remark had just done that for someone else, and it totally made my day.