The first night of boot camp went well.
Except…
About mid way through I was overcome with the urge to cry.
An urge which I managed to keep at bay only until I was safely in my car with the keys in the ignition.
Then, the tears flowed.
And I don’t even know why. I had been having a good day. Laughing, socializing, and functioning just fine. No tears since sometime last week. Everything seemed fine.
But there I was in some beginning Pilates pose, and my heart began to ache.
I’m sure it was partially because I was tired. And cramping. My back hurt, and my stomach was tight. It might have had something to do with the fact that after it was too late, I realized I was bleeding through the back of my pants – a pad proving to be no match for the heavy first days of my period combined with the butt in the air poses I was twisting into with the instructors guidance.
(Which leads me to the side note that I think I am going to have to check out, and of course review, one of those Diva cup things… I want to talk to Dr. Cook about the possible retrograde bleeding from them first, but if he doesn’t think it will be an issue – I want to try. Because pads and me? We are not such good friends after last night.)
Of course, it's possible that my annoyance over The Waiter and his scandolous behavior caused me to snap a little (more at the statement his actions made about mankind as a whole for me, rather than because of any actual dissappointment over a boy I had just met and knew nothing about). Possible even still that he was the straw that broke the camels back in terms of my annoyance with men in general right now.
Or it could have had something to do with the two new pregnancy announcements that found their way to me yesterday. Announcements which I promptly pushed to the back of my mind, as though they didn't hurt at all. Because why should they hurt? Why should I feel anything but happiness for the joy of others?
Maybe it was just the release of finally doing something physical, no matter how low impact it actually was.
Perhaps that release broke open the dam, and the rest simply came tumbling through.
I don’t know. All I know is that I shouldn’t have been crying. I was moving. Just as I’ve been wanting to do. I was breathing. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Slowly. Calmly. Methodically. And according to the instructor – I was even picking up some of the nuances of Pilates like a champ.
Quite the feat, seeing as I almost never pick up new athletic activities with any kind of ease or finesse. I tend to lack coordination in a way that always leaves me dragging up the back of the pack in most classroom settings.
So, I don’t know what set me off. But it was a surge of emotions that was over as quickly as it began. By the time I got home, my legs were a little shaky, but my tears had subsided. I brushed my teeth, crawled into bed, did a little reading, and was feeling fine by the time I turned out the lights.
I’m wondering how long these unexpected bouts of heartbreak will continue to sneak up on me when I least expect them to appear. How frequently the feelings of having nothing will continue to plague my mind, even when I logically know it not to be the truth.
And I’m hoping that the concentrated breathing and movements of Pilates won’t continue to be a trigger for the same sinking feeling I felt mid-breathe under the calming words of an instructor who had no idea that I was on the verge of a breakdown right there on her floor.
Because I kind of liked what we learned last night.
I liked the way my body felt to be moving again. It was an easy night as far as actual physical exertion was concerned (we were told that this first week would be more about the basics, while next week will be more about increasing the intensity), but I liked it. I liked feeling like I was using my muscles again. Concentrating on tuning into what those muscles were telling me. And what they can become.
Still… I felt like a crazy lady for wanting to cry mid-kegel.
For now, I’m blaming it on my period though.
I mean, plenty of women get unexplainably emotional around their periods.
It's not just me.
Right?
ADSPACE
