RECALEBRATING
On a whim, I shoot an email off to a gym that’s had to pivot and is offering online coaching. Work has gone wholly online, the kids are home, and extracurriculars have stopped. In short, I have time on my hands. An energetic coach calls me the next day and asks, “Why now?”
I give him the Cliffs Notes version of my story and we’re soon talking strategy.
This is a Sunday afternoon in April. The world shuts down just as my freedom opens up. There is an electricity in my body born of anxiety and excitement, living with a new sense of freedom to move and have body autonomy I’ve never known. I know if I don't find something physical to do with this energy, I will take risks I don’t want to take anymore. Dave and I converse for a long time and seem to be wired similarly. When he suggests someone else I might work with to improve my health and speed up my rides, the line goes silent. “Or I could coach you,” he says, which is exactly what I'm waiting to hear. We start working together the next day.
I knew from our first conversation I could learn about trust from him, and that this was a safe person to lean on while I started coming back to life. I could show him what I couldn’t do, could tell him all the things I wanted to do, and he would meet me right where I was, as I was, as long as I put in the work.
Every morning, I get an email with a workout and nutrition plan to follow at home. I am motivated and compliant. I clip into my bike and remember how much I've always loved to ride. I get faster and it feels amazing. I fill in the log after workouts with comments like, “Endorphin party” and “More, more, more!” I start looking at races, long distances, and other adventures. On my bike, I remember who I am, who I’ve always been.
As we get to know each other, I share a bit more of my story. I am recalibrating my sense of trust and COVID gives me an extra measure of safety because we have to stay virtual. The timing of a pandemic for someone like me couldn’t have been better- I am able to ease myself back into the world under the guise and limits of physical distancing.
In late May, there is talk of gyms opening up. I’m not sure I want that to happen. I'm happily plugging away at my programming on my own, with help, and my comfort zone is very small. I tell Dave I’m not sure I can come to the gym. He tells me I’ll fit right in.
The reopening is announced in June and we make a plan. We meet at the empty gym and walk through the space. This is the first time we’ve met in person, even though Dave has become an everyday constant for the last ten weeks. He coaches my first Loft class and I barely make it through, but I see the gym downstairs with the barbells and plates and know that’s where I really want to be.
COVID restrictions continue to be lifted and ease me back into the world. While everyone else bemoans the forbidden high fives and partner work, it feels good to have a square marked out in the gym that is all mine.It's a safe space to get reacquainted with my body. It's a safe space to recalibrate to more people I can trust.
I go to the gym five days a week and lift weights. I get some colour on the bar and am proud of it. The sensation of putting weights over my head- heaving them up with my own strength- taps into a sense of competence and body awareness I have had to shelve for years. I ride my bike because nothing feels better. It's a tangible freedom.
I lift weights because it feels so good. I am redefining what my body can do and welcome the aches and stiffness the next day because they are a result of pushing myself. Movement on my terms.
I never thought strangers at a gym would be the people who helped me back to life, but that's how it's turning out. A community of sweaty people with their own reasons for lifting and pushing, surrounding me as I rewrite my trajectory. I get to make this life as big as I want it to be, maybe even bigger than I’m able to imagine right now. Everything feels like a possibility and I’m grateful for that one returned phone call on a Sunday in April, back when we all had to pivot.