Roadblocks

Busy days. This week I have trained through a sore shoulder, a head cold that turned into an throbbing earache, a truck that broke down as I was driving it (picture benevolent folks pushing me off the road), and the variety of distractions in the life of a mom (from doctors' and DMV appointments to baking cookies for the Girl Scout troop). What I have learned from this week is that 1) in the past I would have been justified in missing workouts in the midst of unexpected roadblocks and 2) that my training sessions have allowed me to temporarily release my responsibilities and just be in the moment. 

Even when cranky, sore, or anxious I find myself at peace ten minutes into my workout. When you really have to concentrate on pushing your physical limits, other thoughts and worries are crowded out. Your main focus is in asking your body to do more than it is capable of doing. If your thoughts are in the past or in the future, you lose the strength of the moment. 

Recently, at the end of some of my sets, Tina has had me hold the weight in a partial lift for as long as I can. First the muscle group I am working shakes, then my whole body shakes, and eventually I can no longer hold it at all.  But the length of time I do hold the position is determined by my head, not my biceps or triceps. When I place my mind in the immediate moment, I last longer in my pose. When my mind strays, I hear my phone ring, or I am distracted by an outside thought: how will I pay for a new transmission, why didn't I find time to read to my daughter last night...I lose my strength. 

When I stay in the moment during my training, embrace the discomfort of a hard lift in my mind, my body responds, and I achieve more. And an hour later, when the training session is over, and I return to the managing of money and time, tasks of my real life are waiting for me, but they are no longer red siren problems. 

The image of people pushing me out of the road becomes a little humorous, and I realize that the truck breaking down created an opportunity for my older daughter and I to walk home together hand in hand.