Okay, maybe the title is overstating things, but here's how it went down (in paraphrase):
Trainer, Randolph: Okay, everyone:
pull-ups!
Robby: *hides*
Two people do their pullups
Randolph: (to Robby) Your turn.
Robby: *shakes head*
Randolph: Why are you afraid of?
Robby: *points to back* I don't think I can.
Randolph: I did mine (he hurt his back last week)
Robby: I'm afraid it'll strain my back.
Another person does their pull-ups.
Robby: Okay. I'm in.
Randolph: Just bend your legs (he was going to do an
assisted pull-up)
Robby: *tries to strong arm her way through it and fails, gives up after one try*
Randolph: You got to bend your knees.
Robby: I can't. I'm just not strong enough.
Another person does their pull-ups.
Randolph: You've got this. Just bend your knees and I'll help you.
Robby: *mumblegrumblegruntbreathes* *knocks out 10 assisted pull-ups*
Randolph: *that knowing look that Randolph does when he once again proves he knows more than you do*
I thought about
my favorite lyrics 5 minutes later -- "There's a moment when fear and dreams must collide." You
must choose which means more to you -- holding on to fears that weigh you down, or hanging on to dreams that propel you to greatness. That's the fight we're all fighting in one way or another, no?
In that moment, what did these lyrics reveal to me?
The lie: I wasn't afraid of my back getting hurt. My back was fine. And if it hurt my back, at least I would go down swinging.
The fear: Traced all the way back to elementary school and the
Presidential Physical Fitness Test's pullups/flex-arm hang; If there was one thing I was worse at than running the mile, it was trying to do pull-ups of the flex arm hang. ((Raise your hand if you were also
that kid would would rather get pelted in dodgeball than do anything that required upper body strength.))
The fear: If I can't support my own body weight, how can anyone else support me? I might've lost the weight, but there are still times my brain acts like I'm 240lbs.
The truth: When I don't think I can, it's okay to trust someone telling me that I can, to let them believe in me more than I believe in myself.
The truth: It's okay to trust that someone will catch me if I fall, especially when they've earned your respect in so many other ways.
The truth: People can provide the extra support I need to achieve a goal. It's not a sign of weakness, it's a sign of trust.
The truth: Try first before my brain decides what my body can or cannot do.
The truth: Not a single person there wanted to see me fail.
The truth: "Someone I am is waiting for
courage. The one I want, the one I will become will catch me."