Work Hard

Be Proud

I don’t know what the Friday gym class I take is called. Could be Cardio Smack-Down or Extreme Insanity. Not sure. All I know is it kicks my butt and makes me feel like I can eat a whole pizza without thinking twice.

But that’s not why I take it. Okay, partly but still…

I take it because of Cody.

He notices every person, where they are at, if something looks awkward, he readjusts them. If he sees someone struggling he gives them an alternate way to accomplish the same goal.

He says things like: Remember why you are here. Why did you come today? If you are uncomfortable right now, if what you are out of breath, if your muscles burn… That’s good. That’s why you are here.

The only way we change is by getting uncomfortable.

He says this most every week. And it never gets old. Every week it is a metaphor for some new experience I am having that is uncomfortable. And every week I think okay, I can do this.

Same way I push through the physical discomfort of yet another Burpee, I can work through the dense fog of waiting for a test result or the soupy slosh of not yet having a solution for helping our son with a difficult classmate.

But it’s the way he begins class and ends it that I look forward to.

He starts each class by gathering everyone together, whether it’s six of us or twenty-six, he has everyone put their hands in the middle and say: Work hard! We all raise our hands up. And begin.

When I first started taking his class, this felt weird. Too familiar. Too friendly. I am kind of private, a bit skeptical and certainly not team oriented when it comes to my work-outs.

But now there is something in the camaraderie of it that feels heartening.

Something about the impromptu sense of community that feels comforting.

Less alone.

It is not spiritual. But he infuses each class with a spirit that makes us feel like what we are doing in class is bigger than physical fitness. There is a sense that we are using our bodies to work through some intangible higher order goal.

We all come together again at the end, hands in and he says,

Be proud. Because we’re always proud, of everything we do in here. On three…

He counts it off and we all chime in: Be proud!

Sounds like a feel-good little wrap-up. Good ole’ pat on the back. But for me, these two little words are like a freaky barometer of my inner emotional state.

Some days I listen to him, say it, and feel powerful, like I am about to go out and conquer the world.

Other days it almost makes me cry.

We don’t often hear those words. More frequently it’s our own inner voice saying, oh come on, why did you do THAT. Surely, you can figure out how to be more patient, understanding, productive, positive… fill In your own personal criticism.

We tell our children all the time. But as parents and workers and pilgrims out there in the world it is a constant striving to be smarter, kinder, more loving, compassionate – successful.

And there are not a lot of moments in which we rest to feel good about what we’ve done. Not in a smarmy self-congratulatory way.

But in a loving, YES to who we are way.

The way, if we’re lucky, those we love and maybe an inspiring gym teacher do.