Do not resist the one who is evil...

Me- "Are you sore?"

Niel- "No, not at all."

That was our conversation this morning regarding yesterday’s workout. It’s funny how when you first start on something new, it makes you feel the exact opposite from the results it is guaranteed to produce. Take the Swiss ball for instance. With consistent use it is intended to increase overall strength, balance, and flexibility; in turn this will hopefully increase confidence, stability and handling skills on my bike. I have to say, after yesterday’s strength training session with the Swiss Ball, I had my doubts that I would ever master the use of it.

After a light spin on the bike we got the balls out. I had an idea of the workout we were going to do so I was nervous because I haven’t done so much as a crunch since last spring. We were starting out with plank holds and then graduated to what I knew would be the hardest exercise for me, the push-up. I had difficulty wrapping my mind around doing push-ups on a squishy, unstable, round object. Consequently, I had a hard time doing them as well. My arms felt like toothpicks underneath me as I grabbed the ball. Much to my dismay, my butt popped out as I attempted to bend my elbows. Just as I tried to shift my feet and my weight to correct the obvious dorkiness I was suffering from, the ball slipped out from underneath me. I caught myself before I broke my front teeth out. I glanced up thinking I would be sure to find Niel in the same predicament I was in. I couldn’t have been more wrong. There he was hammering out push-ups on the ball like he was doing them off a wall standing up. Inspired and challenged I tried again only to find myself flat on the ground this time. To save myself injury, I swallowed my pride and conceded to girlie push ups on the ground. We did a few more exercises that I was able to do with a bit of concentration, but all in all, the Swiss Ball left me feeling insecure, off balance, and so weak I wouldn’t have been able to hang onto the handle bars if my life depended on it. As my arms dangled like lead pipes at my sides I considered the possibility that the manufacturers of the Swiss Ball were indeed evil, lying, little gnomes trying to thwart my attempts to be a more confident, stronger rider by keeping me so weak that I can’t even ride my bike. I left Cross Country Cycle never wanting to see a Swiss Ball again.

When I woke up this morning places on my body that I didn’t know existed were crying out in pain. I was tempted to just stay in bed and accept the physical and spiritual limitations of the person I find myself to be at 40 years old. The thing about life is this... it doesn’t allow that. It seems that life constantly demands that I set aside my pride and do those things that render me weak and sore if I ever hope to grow or change. I am starting to understand that although change is painful, resisting it is even more so.

An evil gnome is about to get richer.