I am frustrated. A minor blip on the frustration scale, but I recognize and understand the feeling and have to purge it from my system before it takes root and grows 20 feet tall.
Our gym is undergoing a facelift, and like all moves of this sort, a lot of things have changed and a lot of stuff is not where it has always been or anywhere else that seems logical to me. For the most part I can work with that, even think I am getting an extra dose of cardio with an extra trip up and down the stairs to get equipment I need or using a red band instead of my beloved green one. Not the end of my practice experience as I know it, and truly, not the source of my distraction.
The new space, though, is taking a bit of adjustment for everyone. I like the openness of the space, like that there seems to be more opportunities for people to pursue their own Lists and such. However, with the present state of disarray from the reorganization, it’s a process.
This morning, while working my List in one corner, a couple chooses to set their mat down and do their thing a bare 12 inches from the bench where I’m working. In the old space, would not have bothered me at all. Because it was familiar and I had acclimated to the layout and whatnot. New stuff – it seems fine as long as I have room to pursue my Lists until things get more familiar. Not even close to that point yet, and my psyche registered these people as crowding into my personal space. Unfortunately, there is only one bench up in the new area and I had no way to efficiently move it across the room. So I was suck with either sucking it up and dealing or moving downstairs. I pulled up my big girl capris and carried on.
So between these 2 people standing right in front of my bench and the bench being at the edge of a claustrophobic alcove, I spent half my mental energy fighting distraction instead of focusing on my work. I got it done, but the effort feels herculean for what seems like a minuscule gain.
It’s the addictive side of me talking here, writing this post. It’s the addictive side of me that thinks a do-over practice is in order tonight. It’s the addictive side of me broadcasting frustration, hate, and discontent when none of those emotions are necessary much less appropriate.
I rather hate the addictive side of my personality and am a bit disgusted with myself for being such a baby about the stressure.
But I also get it’s not just about the gym, the practice, or whether or not I burned enough calories in proportion to the volume of brain cells. It is something we are all feeling to a greater or lesser degree and trying to come to terms with in our own ways. At least I am not trainer J, who has to cope with this one some level with every single client as well as deal with his own irritation with management. Tough job right now.
My addict is screaming because the gym and exercise is usually my stress-relieving happier place, where I go to sort my shit out and feel better about things. Work is – OMG, work is INSANE the last few days and will be following me around all through the weekend. This is not lack of planning on my part so much a perfect storm of circumstances between my day job and own little business. And now my zen-inducing place is in disarray, so I am feeling a bit out of sorts.
The allure of retail therapy calls out to me. But I just did that yesterday and cannot allow that aspect of my addictive personality to come out to play yet again. I will regret it, especially as I am in the midst of major clothes and shoes and accessories purge. And this time I mean it.
Ah well. Me and my first world problems. Now time to stop my whining and get back to work.