I attend the 6:30 am Tuesday/Thursday class at the Barn. I love that I can get the work in early and get back home to get the kids dressed and fed and out the door. As much as I love my mid week sessions, I love a good Saturday morning sweat as well! On Saturdays, I always think (and hope) I’m going to peacefully sneak out the door before my kids wake. This never happens. Inevitably, at least one of them wakes requesting breakfast or a conversation, and I end up sprinting (literally) to make it to class in time. I live in the neighborhood directly behind the Barn, so I often walk or bike to class - or sprint when I’m running late.
Dividing the neighborhood and the property where the Barn sits is a stream. To my knowledge, the water level of one of the nearby dams and the amount of snow melt each season all determine how and when this stream is flowing. For most of the year, it sits empty, which makes it really easy for me to get to my workout. This is particularly convenient on mornings when I’m rushing to get there in time.
On one particular Saturday morning, I was just about to tiptoe out the door when... one by one, all four of my kids made their way up the stairs. One wanted a bagel, one needed to know the whereabouts of her soccer shoes, one needed help working the remote, and one wanted to continue the philosophical conversation we had put a pin in the night before. By the time I got out the door, I had very little time to spare.
As I approached the stream, I began to hear it. Just days before- it had been a dry, rocky path. Today it was a full on raging river – the gates were open. I did not have time for this. I always have the option to run up to the Canyons light on 224 and head to the Barn that way, but that would take too long and I was already running late.
So I did what any sane, workout desperate, hurried, determined person would do....
I tried to leap across.
It played out nicely in my mind, but I went into the water chest deep.
I contemplated what to do next and almost turned to head home.
However, there was NO WAY I was going to miss that workout because of some DAM water (see what I did there). I made it to the workout just in time for the warm-up, right after I took off my sloppy wet socks and shoes. I did the workout barefoot that day. Leaving a trail of water and debris at every station. I kept promising others that the souvenir butt print I was leaving behind was NOT sweat.
I know I’m not alone when I say that often times, the HARDEST part is just getting there.
I see the couples who tag team time slots so that one can be home with the kids while one sweats – only to race out and trade places. I see the Happy Hour gang who sprint in from work and change clothes at the last second.
I know the mind game that plays out in your head when you set your alarm the night before.
“I’ll just sleep in tomorrow.”
All those mind games.
“I have so much to do.”
“I’m not feeling 100%.”
I know some of you moms could be at home because you were up half the night with teething babies and non-sleeping toddlers.
Some of you are barely making it in the door.
Often times, the hardest work happens before you even set foot in the Barn.
Yet you do. You do whatever it takes.
Thanks for showing up when you have every reason not to. We love that you do. This is a collective effort and we’re grateful.
This morning I rode my bike to class in the dark because my car is in the shop. I parked it beside the stream (which is dry right now) but there was a skunk smell that was almost unbearable. I thought for sure I was going to be sprayed, and as I made my way up the path, I thought about how that might play out when I got to the Barn.
Whatever it takes.