I came home from CrossFit feeling a tad discouraged today. All because I still can’t do an overhead squat. No, this is not a post about CrossFit (although that might be a topic for some day!), so don’t check out on me.
Here’s what an overhead squat is supposed to look like:
And I can’t do it. Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever get to the point of being able to do an overhead squat with more than just a wimpy piece of PVC pipe in my hands. I just want to throw the bar on the ground, and say, “It’s too hard. I can’t do it.”
A few weeks ago, I made the mistake of saying, “I can’t do it” to the CrossFit coach. He encouraged me to keep trying, and then said something that I can’t get out of my mind: “I don’t ever want to hear you say ‘I can’t’ again.” Yes, sir!
But it brought me back to what a running coach used to tell us. I was training for my longest race to date at that time, a 15K (9.3 miles). As my running group was getting ready to head out, the coach talked to us about saying “I can’t”. He said, “You can’t run 9.3 miles…YET.” His point was that the reason we train is to accomplish something that we can’t currently do. Makes sense, but for me, such a paradigm shift!
And that’s what so much of losing weight and getting healthy has been about for me–perspective. Reshaping the way I look at situations. Thinking, and believing, I can’t is the demon I still fight.
Why is it that I tend to default to the things I can’t yet do and let those “failures” define me instead of looking at all the things that used to be impossible that I do without even batting an eyelash today? Things like driving a car, starting an IV, running more than a mile without dying, speaking in front of a group without puking, blogging (well, the jury might still be out if I can actually do that, but you get the point!). And I can do all these things because I kept trying, training, and refusing to give up.
So today, feeling bummed out because I STILL can’t do an overhead squat, I choose to say, “I can’t do it…YET.” I refuse to let Demon I Can’t win. Tomorrow’s another day, and I’ll try again…and again…and again…