My life would be totally different if I quit on the first try.

My life would be totally different if I quit on the first try.

Quitting came to mind at about 1:00 this past Thursday.  On the quest of changing up my gym routine, I decided to participate in a kickboxing class at noon.  I run regularly and do barre so I thought I would be in perfect shape for this class and do it well.  Stressing the last part again, of doing it well.  The Barre instructor also teaches kickboxing so I knew this class would be high energy, sweat inducing and have good music. (Mariama was first introduced in "Of course not only am I thinking pure crazy but I can't keep it to myself" from 6/4.  Again, she is helping me with my goal of getting back my butt from 1992)  Mariama knows that my goal is to "stink so good" after a good workout.  That sweaty stink are several calories burned.  

Anyway, as the class starts, I am back in junior high all over again.  Physically I believe I can keep up if we did the same movement.  But we don't and I become a total nightmare of uncoordinated movement.  I knew I was in trouble when I looked at the clock and only five minutes went by and I wanted to leave.  I get some movements here and there and I start to drip with sweat.  I am making it through the class and then we partner up.  Mariama is very kind to be my partner but I feel bad because I am the student "learning in her own special way."  We had to do this exercise where she squats down, my leg does a high kick over her head, then I squat and she does the same.  So, as I am dripping with sweat, out of breath, my legs feeling like it's going to fall out of the sockets, I now have started to pray.  (Please don't kick her in the face.  She is going to be a bride in a few months.)  I make it through the class but I am very frustrated.  I know I am quite a bit older from junior high Jude because instead of crying, I mutter f-bombs under my breath.

As I come out of the locker room, smelling quite a bit better, Mariama meets me out front.  She asked me how I felt and I told her that I don't think that's my thing.  It was hard and I wasn't good at it right away.  She told me that it takes some time and I may want to try again rather than quitting after this one time.  

While I was starting to get incredibly sore after this workout, I thought about what she said.  But this was a tough workout.  By the end of the day, it hurt to lift my arms above my head.  I had to ask Ching for help to get my blouse off.  (And of course, he thought it was some sort of invitation.)  But again, quitting after the first try...my life would be quite a bit different if I quit after the first try.

I wouldn't have met Ching because he was only 25 and I wanted to date someone 27 or older.
I would have walked away the first time he pissed me off.  
I would have wanted to walk away when Ching lost his job right only months after graduating from Wharton.
I wouldn't have Laurel or Rachel because I didn't get pregnant on the first try.
I wouldn't have breastfed them if I didn't constantly try after those first failed attempts.

You get my drift as I now sound like some song by Pink.

I saw Mariama today and I told her that I would try again next Thursday.  But God damn it, I am going to be in the corner near the door next time.