I stepped up to the box. Closed my eyes, inhaled. Flashes of visions went through my head, a vision of my toe slipping off the sharp edge of the wooden box, my face colliding with the concrete pillar in front of me, looking up and seeing people scrambling around me. I opened my eyes again. I whispered to myself “you don’t even remember that happening, it’s all in your head.” I closed my eyes again. I remembered the moments after my accident four weeks earlier at CrossFIt. I was into my fourth round of Box Jumps when in the blink of an eye, I must have missed or slipped off the box and went sailing into the concrete pillar right in front of me. It happened so fast, what I actually remember was sitting on the floor, wondering what the hell just happened and hoping no one saw it. I saw a member yelling for the coach. I tried to get up, but realized it was too late, and it suddenly hurt and surrendered to the floor.
For the next four weeks I scaled Box Jumps back to step ups. The mere sight of a box brought flashbacks of the incident. The bump on my head, the black eye I sported for nearly 3 weeks. Then there was the encouragement of the members, the stories of their own Box Jump fears and war wounds. More importantly, was their encouragement that I would do it again.
So here it goes. I looked down. Eyeing up the distance between the box and my feet, the wall in front of me. I took a deep breath. I bent my knees and stood straight up again. Failed attempt, the vision of the wall coming at me freaked me right out. I was anticipating the same results in a whole new situation. I shook my head. Closed my eyes again, and told myself I could do this. I would focus on every jump. I wasn’t going to rush or compete for time. I took another breath, opened my eyes, bent my knees and threw my hands up in front of me as I propelled my body up and forward. I put my hands against the wall. A sense of relief and warmth flooded my body. I smiled to myself. I could do it again.
One by one, I completed the Box Jumps in my own time, at my own pace, and with deliberate thought and focus on every jump. I did it. It was a small victory, but I was happy. I had set up for the workout believing I might be stepping up for life. I proved myself wrong :) there was no sweeter victory than kicking the mental midget in my head to the curb. No, I don’t think the small fear will ever go away completely, but my desire to overcome it was much greater than my desire to be controlled by it.
The same can be said in all situations in life. We are going to trip and fall. We are going to fail, time and time again. We are going to get hurt. We are going to be rejected. We will make mistakes and look like a fool. We can then surrender to it, and let it build invisible boundaries around our freedom in life, or we can use our desire to go beyond that, to grow, to overcome, to believe. There may not be a guarantee, it may never just be easy, but with desire, focus and drive, there is nothing that cannot be overcome. Small victories build confidence and courage, they change lives and open doors by knocking down walls that only ever existed in your mind. Let them go.
What’s stopping you?
No comments:
Post a Comment