Monday, September 1, 2014

Heidi Klum exposed me and jacked my workout

I've been seeing a personal trainer all summer. Its hard! She's having me do things that are using muscles I've ignored and I come away achey and sore nearly every time.

I anticipate this pain so I'm careful when I'm in the studio with her--I hold back a little so I can complete the workout and still feel good. I feel I'm giving "everything" I can give in the space of the work out.

I remember working out much harder when I was in my 20s and it not feeling so hard. That was then and this is now. I was working out appropriate to where I was and now I'm doing something else--something ok for someone my age.

All that seemed totally fine until I lost my green sneakers.

See, I loved my green sneaker. They looked magical to me. Green with green laces--I think they called it "Caribbean" green.

No idea where they went--not in my house and not in lost and found. I had to put my mourning aside and acquire replacement kicks for my workout.

Thanks to Zappos I quickly found a pair in the right model and size. They even had a subtle green stripe. Light as a feather too. But I then took a closer look.

The tongue had the name "Heidi Klum" written across it. Oh hell no!

I looked them over and noticed how ridiculously girly these sneakers were--dotted swiss around the sole and shiny foil accents. I put them on and didn't recognize my own feet. Even the inside of the shoe had Heidi Klum printed in big letters. Stupid girlie gym shoes. I looked back at the page I ordered off--if I looked just a little closer and read the description more carefully I might have seen the horrible. Nope...I was fixated on the green stripes.

The next day I went in for my workout and complained loudly about losing my magic green sneakers and about my Heidi shoes. That was all it took to get my trainer to give me shit about my girlie feet.

She kept teasing me while I was trying to do curls balancing on a squishy surface. I kept falling off, feeling my face get red with indignation for the teasing, my discomfort and


I want that burger.
I went ballistic and started slapping battle ropes and slamming the medicine ball and throwing my body into it. My arms and shoulders were burning but I didn't care.

Precious (yes, my trainer is named Precious) started yelling "That's the stuff!!! That's what I want to see! None of that Zen shit you keep bringing. Bring this!"

I felt really self conscious--that zen shit was keeping me safe dammit! Safe from being hurt and safe from being seen. Now here I was having a melt down over my shoes and letting the world know it. Everybody would know...what exactly?

That I might not be that strong?

That I was breakable?

That I was wearing stupid girlie shoes?

That I still have a lot of work to do to get to where I want to be in life?

That this realization wasn't just about my workout?

Where else am I hiding and playing it safe?

For the next week I'm making Heidi Klum my spirit animal. Moving forward when I put myself out there I'm going to ask "what would Heidi think of this? Would she think it was fierce or would I be out with a cool auf wiedersehen?"

(expect to see more of the Heidi shoes)

What about you? Are you hiding all your zebra print glory behind a khaki curtain? Are you being careful or slamming it for all its worth? Drop a line and let me know.