It’s the New Year, and like every good American, one of my New Year’s resolutions is to lose ten pounds. My family and I recently moved, and I got out of my exercise routine. And I just ate too much.
So I went to a new class at the gym today. It was called H.I.I.T. High Intensity Interval Training. It was HARD.
I live in a small town with one run-down gym. It’s probably been there since the ‘80s, and they still play heavy metal in the weight room. But this gym collects women in the best shape in all of Lancaster County. Me, well, I show up. Occasionally.
As I’m sweating and straining and huffing and puffing, I couldn’t help but look around at all these women in their 20s, 30s, 40s, even 50s, in just sick shape. They must lift weights while they sleep and never eat chocolate ice cream. At one point during the class, we were supposed to pair up to do some ab-throw-your-legs thing. No one wanted to be my partner. I felt like I was eight years old again at recess. I was the girl nobody wanted on their team. Finally, the teacher paired me with a woman in her 50s, also in amazing shape, who was actually really nice.
The whole thing got me thinking. Is it good enough just to show up? Even if you aren’t the skinniest or the most toned or the youngest or the prettiest or the smartest?
I feel like I’m that way with so many things. I’m not in the best shape. I’m not the smartest or the most accomplished. I’m not the most organized. I’m not the best writer, or speaker, or decorator. I’m emotional and moody and dramatic and devoted and messy.
But it is good enough just to show up and try?
I’ll go back to that class and try again, even if my thighs jiggle in those blasted mirrors everywhere. I’ll keep painting the rooms in my house even though I don’t know how to style an empty wall. I’ll keep trying to be a good friend, even though I talk too much and I’m dramatic, and I tend towards extremes. I’ll love with all I’ve got, even if it’s not enough to fix anyone’s problems. I’ll keep trying to clean and organize and manage my time. I’ll keep trying to carve out a writing niche and find my own voice. Because perhaps the goal isn’t to be the best. Perhaps it’s good enough just to show up and try.
