Better or Worse

One of the great things about having Godfather as a trainer is just when you feel like giving in, he says something that just clicks. On Wednesday I walked into the gym thinking I was going to have a somewhat mellow hour. I was super exhausted and pretty sore after a Tuesday filled with an hour session with him and then returning that evening for my first ever Boot Camp with my friend Jessi (who by the way has her own blog HERE and you should totally go over and give her some love). Godfather pushes me to the limit each and every time. Add to that boot camp and Tara = TORE UP! I had planned on just doing something totally mindless for an hour and getting the hell out of there. Godfather had a different idea. He invited me to work out with another one of his clients. I love working out with this particular person and when he asks you to participate…

you don’t refuse

So here I am, exhausted and feeling physically like I’m at the end of my rope but I warm up and off we go. About 30 minutes into the session I begin to have a mental breakdown. There’s something about being in the gym super early in the morning, having so much sweat and snot on your face that you can’t tell what’s what and being told to move faster that makes you feel like sitting down on the floor and refusing to move until someone brings you a blanket and a teddy bear. That’s where I was. I needed that blanket. I needed that Teddy Bear. I needed for Godfather to give me a break. Since I wasn’t going to get any of the fore mentioned I just started crying. But I was moving. In fact I was running. Running in between two cones. I don’t know if he saw me crying. I don’t really care. I just want to keep moving. I want my body to get stronger. I want my body to get fitter. I want my body to get leaner. It’s not going to happen by giving up. It’s not going to happen by asking Godfather for a break. As I’m having an internal conversation with myself (more like begging my body to not give up) I hear the following words come out of his mouth:

“In any situation, you’re either getting worse or you’re getting better”

I’ve never heard a truer statement than what I heard at that exact moment. Yes, I was a sweaty snotty mess. My shirt didn’t have one dry place on it for me to wipe my face. My legs hurt from the TRX sequence, my arms hurt from weighted push-ups and my lungs were about to collapse from the one minute sprints (and still trying to recover from boot camp) but I was making myself better.

Everything we do we’re either making the situation worse or we’re making it better. Every decision, every choice and every conscious effort as we move forward and take control of a life we once thought was lost forever. This is how I need to look at my life. No, this is how WE need to look at OUR lives. No matter where you on this journey you can always asks yourself: does this help me to be better or does this hinder and lead me towards being worse? If you’re stuck in a binge, if you can’t muster up the energy to break a sweat or you just happen to pull up to your nearest Jack in the Box stop and ask yourself:

Will this make me better?

Will this make me worse?

I didn’t stop crying as soon as he bestowed this wisdom on me. In fact, I continued to cry pretty much right up to end of our time together. But what I did begin to do was say to myself, (and out loud I might add) I am getting better. All the exhaustion, all the struggle to keep moving and all effort I put into this journey is making me better. A better athlete. A better mentor. A better person.

It’s all I’ve ever wanted to be.

Isn’t it what we all want to be?

This week has been about as physically demanding as I’ve ever experienced. By the end of the week I’ll have seen Godfather five times, done boot camp twice and run about 12 miles.  I’ll have cried and prayed my way through multiple hours of movement despite being tired and my muscles will seize up after sitting for a even the shortest periods of time. But when I ask myself if these situations are making me better or worse…

I know the answer.

What’s your answer?