The Real Gift of Discomfort
Tuesday, September 6
9:30 AM
Stale air in the doctor’s office, filled with silence and tension from those that sat around me. I sat alone with an aching heart, a racing mind, and clammy palms. I had been in discomfort for a few weeks, and knew there was more to come in the next few days.
Friday, September 30
6:55 AM
Heavy breaths. One more set of overhead squats to complete, and the last athlete on the floor working. The incoming 7 AM class had started gathering on the floor, and eyes were on me as I took a breath, lifted the bar and placed it onto my back, and got ready to squat one last time (or so I thought). I felt a slight discomfort as their eyes watched my first four squats, and a failed fifth. They cheered loudly as I lifted one last time to complete my final set of seven squats. Later that morning, I would coach an athlete that looked at me with defeated, discomforted eyes; a silent understanding and expression they had met their match for the morning.
I offer you these two small glimpses into my month as an illustration of some of the discomfort I experienced as an individual, an athlete, and a coach. And to be clear, these offerings are not to entice pity or sympathy, but rather to invite a sense of collectivism. Whether you share it with your circle of friends, or only those closest to you, the truth is that discomfort is always around the corner, and it is a feeling we are rarely looking to experience. If I asked you to stop and think about how many times you’ve experienced discomfort in coming to the gym, worrying about a movement you’re “not good at”, or feeling defeated by the clock, the reality is that we’ve all been there…and will to experience small moments like this.
And yet, as I reflect on this past month, and the journey through some pretty discomforting moments, I’ve come to realize that these experiences are not brought to us in vain. Rather, these experiences are given to us to teach us - and my lesson? The real gift of discomfort is the resiliency of the human spirit.
By definition, resilience means the capacity to recover quickly from difficulties; toughness.
Read that definition again. If you think, even for a moment, that you lack resiliency in the walls of the gym, then stop. Think of every tripped up jump when learning how to double under; a missed box jump and a bruised shin; a missed attempt at a heavy lift; a missed time cap. All of these small moments cause discomfort, on some level. And yet, we keep coming back for more…to try again…to get better. The discomforting moments in the gym, and in our lives, give us an opportunity to wear our “heart armor” proudly - a shield built of resilience, determination, grit, and ultimately, love.
I would not trade these moments of discomfort if asked. The people in my life that saw me through this discomfort got to see my “heart armor” on display. Those closest to me witnessed my toughness; athletes in the gym saw my grit as I walked up to the bar to finish the workout (last); my athletes that I then coached got to be loved, as I shared my reflections on the workout and got to help them see just how resilient they were as they lifted.
There are three months left in this year. That means there are three months left to experience discomfort, whether during a workout or in your personal life. What would happen if you rearranged the way you welcome discomfort into your life? Would you invite to sit with you? Or would you run, hoping that it might make a U-turn? Let it sit with you, crew. Because when you do, you give yourself the opportunity to name and honor the real gift that discomfort brings - the growth in yourself, as an individual.
I’d love to hear how discomfort has challenged you and shaped you this past month. Share with me, so that I can share with you what I see inside of you! It’s so bright from where I stand. Onto October, my fit family. Let’s do this.
Big Hugs,
Coach Kady