I love to work out, Yes I'm weird, but honestly I just love how it feels to be FINISHED working out. I have made it an almost daily habit to get in at least a few minutes of exercise, I love the instant high that it gives me. At this point, it isn't for weight loss but more like if-I-want-one-ounce-of-sanity, I need to get my butt in gear and move. It is definitely my happy place. And recently I had to take off almost 6 weeks off of working out. It was so hard for me, mentally. I really struggled with not working out and giving my body the much needed rest it was craving. So when I finally, FINALLY healed my body, I jumped right back into my favorite workout classes, cautiously but I literally jumped!
I was so excited to be back in my very FAVORITE workout class, Body Pump. I love, love this class. It has hands down changed my body the most in all my years of trying to change it. It is an hour long, weight lifting class choreographed to really good music. You can go light on the weight or you can load up the bar. Honestly, no matter the amount of weight it is an AMAZING workout. You feel like a rockstar, with a rock hard body when you are finished. Honestly I feel like I can change the world when I am finished with this class. So here I am, cute tang top, awesome new workout capris, and my purple NIKE's. I'm not really naturally a smiler, so when I say I was grinning from ear to ear in excitement that I was back in the gym, picture a goofy smiley version of Carla. It's kinda of a rarity.
I arrive early, and set up all my equipment, I am SO happy that I am back in my favorite spot in the room. It is upper right, close to the front, but not in the very front. I position myself to make sure I can see a good view of myself in the mirror, you know to make sure I have good form and all. I am ready!
The music starts and I pick up my weigh lifting bar. I am in workout heaven. Oh how I have miss this! The first song, a 3 minute warm up ends, just as my worst workout class nightmare begins. I mean this is the easy track, we are barely even gotten into the work out when the lady directly next to me turns on a fan. Ok, what's the big deal with a fan? Let me tell you what the big deal with a fan. I want you to raise your arms straight up into the air. Now spread them as far a part as you can. Ok that was the SIZE of this fan. It was up on a stand, you know, like about my height, and it was a big as a semi-truck tire. A FREAKING SEMI-TRUCK TIRE SIZE FAN. Please tell me why they have industrial size fans in a work out room. Oh people get hot when working out? Well, we were still warming up. No one was even close to being "hot."
So here I am first song in, when an industrial size and strength fan gets turned on FULL BLAST pointed directly at me. I look over at the culprit who turned on this fan, and it's a lady who looks like my second grade teacher. Mid-60's, hair and makeup perfectly painted on, and I noticed on the first song that she was only squatting mid way down. Mid-way people, not even all the way down! I side glance her, and as soon as the song ends I rip on my sweatshirt. I am putting clothes back on! Another track plays, and as I load up my weight lifting bar and place it on my shoulders, I am blinded by my hair that can no longer stay in place, but has worked it's way across my face. Great. Just how I imagined my first work out back. Blind and freezing.
I just couldn't believe this lady! I mean, who doesn't have the common courtesy to ask those around you if they would care if you turn a fan on full blast? I just kept thinking the entire time that this lady is SO SELFISH. There are 40 people in this class, and she's just worried about herself. Wouldn't the polite thing to do is to ask those around you if the MIND if the fan is on? As the song continues, I think of my options. I don't really see any, but to ask the lady to turn the fan away from me or to at least turn it down a notch or two.
The song ends, and with my sweatshirt zipped up closely around me and with as much politness I can muster, I sweetly ask the kind lady to either turn the fan in a different direction or to turn it down. She answers me and says, "well I'm not going to turn it a different direction, so I guess I'll turn it down." And she proceeds to pretend to turn it down. Yes, I said pretend. There is NO WAY this fan slowed. I swear her and the fan had a personal vendetta to make me suffer through freezing through this class. Dang this lady has some balls.
I continued to side-glance her. Not in a mean way, but more in a -do-you-see-how-I-am-suffering-here way. Maybe if she really realized my discomfort she'd turn the dang thing off. The ENTIRE rest of my class I thought, OMG WHAT IS HER PROBLEM? IT IS NOT EVEN HOT IN HERE! THIS STUPID FAN IS RUINING MY WORK OUT! I CAN"T EVEN CONCENTRATE! WHY DIDN'T I WEAR WARMER CLOTHES? OH, THAT'S RIGHT BECAUSE I DIDN'T REALIZE I WOULD BE FREEZING WHILE WORKING OUT! I HATE THIS LADY AND HER HOT-NESS! UGH!! THIS WORKOUT DOESN'T EVEN MAKE ME SWEAT ONE DROPLET. MAYBE I SHOULD JUST CALL IT QUITS, AND SAY THE FAN WON....
By my 10th side-glance at her, I heard a whisper in my heart. It was kind hard for me to hear through my own screaming thoughts running around my head. But like a small breath, I heard it. What if you were her? What if she has a disease that makes her more hot natured than you? What if she has cancer and is on medication that gives hot flashes? What if she is going through menopause? What if she sweats profusely and has to go to work right after, and is self-conscious about smelling? What if, what if, WHAT IF.
What if I were in her shoes. What if I walked just one day in her shoes, or better yet what if I was her right in this very class? What if the lady next to me angrily side-glanced me the entire hour because I turned on a fan. A fan that was placed there for the very purpose it was turned on...how then, would I feel?
I'm pretty sure I would feel like crap.
I'm pretty sure that’s exactly how I made her feel. It's kinda hard to hide my true feelings when it's written all over my face. Should I apologize? Or just act nicer and smile at her? IAs I pondered how I could make it right, the fan lady left class early. I'm hoping it was because she had to be somewhere, not because I made her feel uncomfortable. And as she left, she turned the fan towards the ceiling. No longer was the air hitting my face like a North Carolina summer storm, and I hate to admit this but I kinda got hot. I hate being wrong. But I hate even more reacting emotional in a moment and treating someone unlovingly.
Turn on any reality show, and you will find a society that thrives on making others feel less than. I'm not sure what has happened in the last ten years but for some reason people are led to believe that they are more important than everyone else. I see it everyday, every time I walk out of the house. Self-focused people who are only looking out for themselves.
I get it... I call myself a REFORMED Bitty (ie. bitch) for a reason. Most of my life, I had a massive chip on my shoulder that proudly showed everyone just what I thought of them. I had something to prove. My attitude always walked in a room before me. My goal was never to purposely make others feel bad, but it was that I just thought so low of myself that I had to prove to myself and others that I was worthy. Through oh so much healing, I no longer feel the need to prove myself with a bitty attitude towards others, well I guess, unless you turn on a fan.
I try, honestly I really try to love others. Even those that I don't feel are worth my love. It isn't an easy thing to do because guess what? We are all so different. We have different ideas, and different values. We come from different places. In the fall, it was hard to love anyone talking politics on Facebook, and I really had to stop myself from hiding people's newsfeeds. Love is not hiding people's newsfeed, love is not becoming irritated in the school pick up line, love is not side-glancing a lady who turned on a fan in a work out room. Love is being uncomfortable for others. It is putting someone else's needs before yours, and happily doing so. Love is stepping one foot in someone else's shoes, even if for just one minute. Love is hard, and that normally the hard thing..is the right thing.
We cannot change others or their actions, but we can change our reactions to others. Choose to be uncomfortable, choose to be last and more importantly choose to love others before yourself.
To the fan lady...I am SO SORRY for my wretched attitude next to you in class. I will choose to love you better next time.