A Boxing Story: Shaky Hands, Broken Promises, and Redemption

Oh y'all... Rachel Hollis has gotten to me. She went straight for the jugular and basically told me to get my shit together. Although she said it without the profanities and with a little more grace. Her exact words were, "Girl, wash your face." But more than that. She wrote about keeping promises to yourself. And hold on a moment while I find my book and read, er write, her words for y'all.

"I made a promise to myself and I don't break those, not ever."

What?!?!? I, like Rachel's friend in the story, am the first person I break a promise to. Other people, oh no! I don't want to disappoint them. But me? Well, I can handle the let down.
But she doesn't stop there.

"Your subconscious knows that you, yourself, cannot be trusted after breaking so many plans and giving up on so many goals."

Y'all, you can be disappointed in yourself and not even realize what it's doing to your psyche. So I reiterate, girl, wash your face.

But I digress.



This whole thing got me thinking about some recent goals I had stepped away from. And I had a million reasons, ya ready?
I'm tired. It's been so long since I last went. It's going to be hard. What will trainer x and trainer y say when I show up after all this time. I don't have a car. I'm going out of town. What's one more day?
Those words and those excuses, plus about 19 more, swirled around in my head and convinced me that I should continue my pattern of not showing up for myself.

But then something clicked. I knew I wanted to be there. I knew that this was important to me. So I made a promise to myself. Monday night, I said out loud (because I like to state things for the world to hear), I am going to boxing tomorrow. And then I set my alarm for the 6am class.

Well y'all this isn't an immediate success story, sorry to disappoint. I clicked that alarm off so fast in the morning and said I'll go to the noon class. Around 10:30, I knew I wasn't going. My stomach was in knots. My back hurt from laying on it wrong. My anxiety was soaring. And my hands would not quit shaking.

So I swallowed my pride, admitted to myself that this was gonna be an uphill battle. Then I looked at the schedule and settled on the 7:15 class.

And let me tell you something. The only thing harder than starting in the first place, is starting over after failing the first time. Now I know there are so many different opinions on this thought. Trust and believe that I've heard most them from my friends over the past 24 hours. But as a person with severe social anxiety, walking back into the club after a month away and admitting that I had given up on not only myself, but the sport itself, was terrifying. It didn't (and still doesn't) bother me as much that I let myself down, as it does that I let my trainers down. (I don't know if they see it this way but that's how it plays out in my head).

Anyway, I got there early and sat in the parking lot playing with the car radio. I debated calling my best friend and somehow talking myself out of it, but I didn't. So with my bowl of cheerios from an hour earlier threatening to come back up, I took 4000 deep breaths, told myself it was gonna be okay, I ran through my excuses to give the owner (car accident, hurricane, family and friend visits, bad mental health month), and walked in.

When the owner saw me, he smiled and kept about his business. I stood to the side and wrapped my hands with shaky fingers. I took another deep breath, pulled out my gloves, and walked over to the heavy bag that I used during my very first boxing class. Before the warm-up, Anthony came over and asked where I had been. Finally the truth came out of my mouth before my brain had even fully processed it. I had no excuse, I just hadn't been there. But I was there now. He said he was glad I was there now and moved on to talk to someone else. And just like that, I realized that once again my anxiety had convinced me that things were going to play out so much worse than they actually did.

After 8 rounds of pure torture that left me nauseous and an ab workout that rivals anything I've ever done before, I walked outside and puked all over the sidewalk -- sorry, Ayrsley Town Center.

All this to say that I'm keeping this promise to myself. I'm showing up for my life. Are you? 🥊