On Saturday I went with a friend to a TRX class. I have no idea what that stands for, but it involves heavy straps hanging from the ceiling that one holds on to for dear life. It could stand for Torture Rip you an Xtra one device. I have been saying for two years that I needed to build muscle mass. I have not been consistent in any exercise except walking and hiking. My inner core has been weakened after a broken leg in 2014.
A “friend” asked me to go with her to the TRX class. At one point, I had to take out my hair clip because it hurt my head when doing exercises on the floor. My hair spilled out in wild curls all over my head like Medusa. Of course, I could see this in the mega-sized mirror. Then, when we got up, I stepped on the clip and broke it.
At another point, I was struggling through sit-ups while the owner of Form Fitness (Kelly) was holding my feet to help me. I could not have completed even one had she not held onto me. She softly encouraged me to keep going. It is the closest I came to crying that day. I felt un-raveled on the matt. I started realizing that I can understand why people just want to take the ibuprofen or other medicines to deal with life versus get in there and try to rebuild weakened muscles.
I had several other revelations while spazzing out with those straps. One, I am physically weaker than I realized. My body functions fine doing the things I need to each day, but I had no idea how weakened my core and other muscles had become. For optimal health and balance, I need to build muscles and protect my joints, manage my metabolism and feel good in my body.
Two, I have been using some unhealthy coping mechanisms to manage my stress. I talk to patients every day about managing stress. Hormones secreted in stress can wreak havoc on our body affecting everything from where we store weight to our blood sugar levels to sleep cycles. My genetic make-up is particularly vulnerable to stress making it uber important how I manage my hectic (at times) life.
Three, the community of women is integral in getting the accountability I need to be consistent in weight-training to build muscles. There were nine of us. Each woman at one time or another gave me a smile or a way-to-go. Some came up and offered their story to me. “I just started this summer.” A few shared stories about how little they could do when they first came to class.
Finally, I re-learned how much fun it is to move to music with others. While parts of my body burned with pain, my spirit was re-freshed and my soul encouraged.