I go to the workout today. We start with a warm-up, then move into strength. The strength work is squats, and then supersets of 60 seconds of plank and then 60 seconds of continuous Good Mornings.
I am doing the Good Mornings. My shirt was discarded a while ago. The coach (and gym owner) corrected my stance a bit at my first round of Good Mornings. Everyone is in different places around the gym, working on whatever part where they each are.
The coach comes walking up to me, doing his sideways stance, head dropped slightly, as though conspiratorially – his usual stance when speaking so that only the one person receives the information.
“I’m gonna say somethin‘…,” he begins. I am immediately nervous. What did I do wrong? Am I doing wrong? “…I don’t want you to take it the wrong way…”
Shit. I messed up somehow. What did I do wrong? Is it about my not wearing a shirt? Is it too much? Wait… other girls go shirtless, too…, though I can’t recall who at present…, but some do, I’m sure of it… maybe that I’m not pushing hard enough to have ditched the shirt, so it’s just too soon isn’t he workout to be in just the sports bra up top…?
“What??” I say more than ask, resignedly, looking at him sidelong, my face set in obvious trepidation.
He looks me in the eye, and then says, calmly and gently, and completely genuinely, “Your butt…” He makes a sign with his hand, pressing the first finger and thumb gently together, extending the others outward. It is the sign that is common for describing something, usually food, as ‘perfection’. He makes a corresponding shape with his lips, and tilts his head slightly to the side in the same motion.
My eyes gape. “REALLY???” I ask him, like a kid who’s just been told that Santa Claus wants to meet him.
He nods, reaffirming the hand motion and head tip.
Tears are almost instantly at my eyes. “You’re gonna make me cry!” I declare, eyes brimming.
He tells me not to cry, that I shouldn’t be upset – it’s something to be happy about. I tell him that I am extremely happy and that they are tears of joy and gratitude. He understands and believes my obvious honesty.
“I tell people, ‘I made that,’” he then says.
I laugh and immediately declare, “You did!… You totally did.”
After class, I thanked him for having shared with me. I have worked very hard, in many ways more than just physically these past two years. The past six months have been a near explosion of finally seeing and experiencing some of the goals I have had my entire life, regarding my physical fitness. Some of them were even just dreams, not goals. Yet they realized nonetheless. And, basically, all of it was made possible because of him and his training and coaching and support. Yes, I put forth the effort, but he provided the tools and guidance and support for almost all of the physical stuff, and a good chunk of the mental stuff, too. (He’s also the one who turned me on to Goggins, by the way.)
He also happens to be one of the fittest and, truly, sexiest people I have ever known. (No, no Eros attraction to worry about. I am merely describing his physical appearance here.) And I know how hard he works for that fitness for himself.
And he, of all people, complimented my buttocks. And not just any compliment, either. It was a You say it best, when you say nothing at all, silently communicated “perfection” compliment. He thinks my but is perfection. Sh** all else, if that is not one of the greatest and most powerful compliments one could receive regarding efforts like I have made. (Haha. I know, it’s a terrible phrase.) He knows how hard I have worked, and he helped me to see a success today that I had not known that I had.
Afterward, I took a photo from the side, just standing normally. And, wow…, I agree with him. It looks like a butt model for pants, the photo.
I have extremely high expectations for myself. It was valuable beyond compare today for me to hear such feedback from such a knowledgeable person on the situation. I have been frustrated a lot about my struggles and failures elsewhere on my body and in my performance lately. And so, it was nice to have a stellar success pointed out to me, and by someone whose opinion I cannot disregard (even if I’d wanted to do so).
Thank you, gym. Thank you, owner. Thank you, butt. And thank you, God, for this beautiful combination for my life. Thank you, all.