Strength Training for Sissies: Day One, Shedding Barriers

One of the habits I'm trying to invite into this little life of mine is to start identifying barriers that keep me from my overall goal.  Barriers could be emotional/mental, physical, or some kind of tangible object that I would need to acquire in order to achieve a task.

Now, it seems so easy to just peel off the layers of denial like an orange to reveal the wondrous "barrier fruit," but sometimes the fruit is too bitter to take.  I wish I was one of those semi-perfect people that could just buy a new sportsbra and run 10 miles just because I have something to strap down the chesticles, but I'm not.  I have baggage.  I reckon you do too.

It's been really hard for me to commit to a strength training plan.  Mostly, I don't know what I'm doing 1/2 the time and so.help.me. if one more person tells me to hire a personal trainer... let's just say I've spent so much money, time, and effort to try and find a trainer that is willing to enable me to be more self sufficient in the gym, and it just doesn't happen.  I don't care how good so-in-so over at such-in-such gym is, I'm not pissing away another $200 on something a library card and a Google search bar could remedy.

But, I digress. I started to think about it yesterday, why is it that I am so afraid of the weight room?  Why does the thought of joining one of those bootcamp/stuntman class group things trigger my fight or flight response?

Well, I think I kind of know.

Growing up, I was the little girl that kind of hated gym class.  When it was time to run the mile, I was always the one lagging behind coughing and going into asthmatic fits as both of my parents smoked and I was rarely allowed to go any further than my parent's line of sight.

I remember doing our exercises in the gymnasium and all the surrounding kids were mocking me because I didn't have L.A. Gears or Reeboks on like all the other little girls, I was wearing cheapie canvas Ked-knockoffs because that's all my parents could afford (even though there was never a night dad didn't have 12 of his favorite 12oz buddies to hang out with... or, God forbid, Canadian Club).

Try doing a jumping jack in those on a hardwood gym floor.... or try playing basketball or volleyball.  It hurts.  It really really hurts.

When I got to High School, it took some begging (if by some, I mean hours and hours) but I gained approval from my parents to join cheerleading.  I worked really hard to make the football season's JV team, and was the first freshman ever to get upgraded to the varsity squad by the time basketball season came along.  I would run, exercise, lift weights as a social outlet, but I was never one to go do these things on my own.

That, my friends, was the pinnacle of my athletic career before I woke up one morning and decided to sign up for a 1/2 marathon 3 years ago.

Now, what does this have to do with strength training?

Basically, I am channeling my inner 3rd grader that is scared to death that someone is going to laugh at me for doing something wrong then succumbing to the 5th grader complaining that "this one makes my thighs rub together" and just tie that all together with the 7th grader in my head looking at the reflection of the 3rd grader and 5th grader pushing through the last set of axe chops on the cable cross machine... and that poopiefaced 7th grader seems to think I'm too soft to make any difference (she was an emo bitch back then too).

Wow.  That was kind of a mouthful.  Bitter much?

There is a whole lotta self doubt and anxiety in this 5'9" power horse, and it's my barrier.  I need to remember....

• No one is looking at you.  You are not a unique and grotesque snowflake.  No one cares that you just fell off the Bosu ball trying those crazy inverted barbell rows you saw in that book.  Even if they do giggle, you probably should too.  That shizz's funny.
• If you don't know if you're doing it right, ask.  Gym people are nice people.  If uncertain whether you're hyper-extending your back extension, chances are someone is near by to say "ya dude, you're good."  If you are so lucky as to run into a jerky-face, shake it off.  Life is too short to worry about everyone else.  Speaking of which...
• Worrying about what others think is an unnecessary expenditure of energy.  Save all that heart pounding and shortness of breath for when real chafing can occur and you can start feeling like a real athlete (sans anti-fungal cream, por favor).

What kind of barriers do you face?  What kind of motivational chanty-actions do you use to overcome these challenges?