Tears of Frustration

I was so nervous, I almost thought about not going at all.  I got all my things ready. Mental checklist: Bathroom. Phone. Wallet. Keys. Shoes. Water bottle. Intern dialogue: “I gotta do it. The longer I wait to go back, the harder it will get.”

I had been away from parkour classes for a month, trying to rehab an Achilles injury. It was time to test out my recovery, so this morning I SHOWED UP…even though I was super nErVous.

I was primarily worried about three things:

– was I gonna make my Achilles problem worse again

– will I have lost the progress I made

– would I appear lazy or uncommitted if I did not go full out today

I noticed myself getting happier and happier the closer I got to the gym. Definitely felt good to walk in there. I had to remind myself it would be worth it to start ALL over from the beginning, I was there to improve my skills, not impress my instructors (though I deeply want that too), and that I gave myself lots of extra warm-up to prevent re-injury.

All that stuff was bubbling under the surface while one of my instructors was giving me feedback over and over about a move I just.could.not.get. So I started crying. In front of my instructor, a handful of teenage boys, a man roughly my age, and a teenage girl. Not like “bwwaaahaha,” but, you know, flushed and teary.

My typical reaction is to squelch it, look for a way to hide. DENY.

That is shame. I see you shame.

I stood there with tears in my eyes, looked at my instructor and said, with a steady voice, “I am frustrated.” My instructor nodded. The man looked at me and said, “It’s a frustrating move,” which immediately helped me feel better.

I kept working at it and felt like I was on the verge of a breakthrough. I had to push through that uncomfortable place to make progress. I got a little further ahead today and I am so glad that I went back.