When I was young, I remember running with my gym class and always being at the back of the class, even as young as 10 years old. I was never good at running but I always pushed myself hard and many times, I'd start to hyper-ventilate just to keep up with the other kids. I was embarrassed I couldn't run as well as they could. I'm sure hyper-ventilation on its own isn't so bad....it's they sense of panic for not being able to breathe that is the worst part of the experience!
In the last week, I've had two times at The Cell where I've pushed myself hard enough to reach that panic stage. The point at which my chest starts to close up and I begin to panic because I cannot breathe. I can now add "tears" to the list of the old mantra of "blood, sweat and tears" because I have cried on both sessions this week. Once with each of the coaches, Stef and Jason (thought I'd make it even!).
Strangely, it wasn't as embarrassing as I thought it would be, mostly thanks to the amazing acceptance, understanding and support Stef and Jason give. I always feel so ugly crying, not unattractive but vulnerable where this part of me that is tortured, twisted, squished up, and soul-wrenching surfaces. That what it feels like on the inside - like I'm allowing this part of me to show - a place where I'm deeply vulnerable.
Surprisingly, what comes up from my depths behind it once it's surfaced is a fire, a determination and something that feels like what you might experience while watching a life grow - like those time-lapsed videos of seeds growing. Almost a detached form of awe.
