Tearing Up the Script
I have a thing or three to learn about leadership. But one of the amazing things about leading–whether intentionally, or through something as simple as a blog–is you can find wonderful mentors, teachers and nice people. Of course, there are a bazillion types of buttfaces too, but we’ll just focus on the good today. Which I will eventually address–once I finish my tangentially-related way of getting to any real point…
So you all know that I am stuck on many emotional and psychological issues. Oh, we can make a list of my problematic adjectives, but I might just end up feeling worse about it. So let’s just nod and saying, “Hot Mess. Moving On.”
My San Diego friend says that I keep my armor up (the fat, the unworthiness) so I can stay safe, not get hurt, continue to perpetuate this ridiculous self-fullfilling SCRIPT that I have written and made myself “star in” all these years.
The script that says, “Well, if I actually am 40 pounds overweight, then when someone looks at me funny, I will know why.”
(She’s good. Really good.)
So today. I was asked to substitute teach an indoor cycling class for PTS Sports. Totally stoked about the opportunity. Wrote my idea for the class structure, sent it to Coach T-Bone for approval.
And I knew why. Well, he told me. But I disclaimed it beforehand. It was kind of “theme-y” and more “spinning class-like” instead of “indoor cycling.” So I revised, stayed straight and went for the intervals and the climbs, and that workout was approved. In the middle of that correspondence, another one of PTS’ coaches reached out to me to help with ideas.
In literally 10 minutes, I had two excellent mentors–who cared to help me out with my first class. It was great. And I learned some great things. I put my playlist together for my indoor cycling instruction debut–whew! Ready!
Woke up early, trodded to PTS. And we had a full house by 7:45–every trainer was taken, and people had to bring their own from the cars. Although a handful of the SBM besties were there (the Expert, Yoda, the Weatherman, Carrie, Heather, Jamie, Jennifer, Lisa–okay, so I brought 8 of my own!), but we had a great turnout.
So there were these two guys, who parked their trainers to the side/back of me.
I knew one of them–and he’s a nice heckler who I was expecting to get sh*t from–he’s awesome, I’m a fan of his, and I was ready for him.
But then, another dude parked right to the side of me. I didn’t know him. He looked like he was very in shape, and I felt immediately insecure.
The whole class… (as in TWO HOURS), I was thinking, “Oh man, Dude is seeing my gut—from the side view.” And then, “I hope this class is enough for him.”
I ended the class with a 16 minute time trial, and I sneaked a peek over at him.
Dude was pouring sweat. Working his tail off.
It turned out to be a great class. I worked my ass off–teaching a class makes you WORK, man. We were all sweating. I loved it!
…So, eventually everyone heads to leave after class.
The Dude (who turns out to be named Dave) comes up to me… and says, “Thank you! This was an awesome class! I worked so hard—great workout. I just loved it!”
My jaw hit the floor.
The Expert was outside running, and I’m was locking up. So Dude Dave and I chitchat while he’s stretching, and I learn that he has kiddos and lives in the area where we are looking to buy a house. He’s 100,000% totally nice.
And he liked my class.
In that moment, I realized that my friend in San Diego may actually be right. I had this lightbulb, as I was talking with the Expert later.
I put on this armour of whatever–to somehow play out my own messed up script of unworthiness. I was in this class–actually, teaching the damn thing–and there I sat, thinking, “Dude thinks I’m unworthy to teach this class.”
And the whole time…. Dude was thinking, “She’s killing me with this time trial.”
So, as a reminder to myself–and in an effort to get rid of this stupid script of mine–let’s brush the fat/slow/ugly/dumb chip off our collective shoulders. Approach our day and others with a confidence that we can muster… and start from the premise that– We are good enough.
Let’s tear up the script that we have written about ourselves. Let’s start with a fresh, crisp beautiful page–and be the script we want others to read.
Let’s be beasts.
Let’s be…who we really are.
And I just know–in light of recent events–we may all be pleasantly surprised.
As my yoga teacher says, “The light in me… honors the light in you.”
Let’s be lights, too! Happy week, my friends!