Sunday Stories: You're Not All That
When You Think You're a Badass, But You're Not
I thrive when I stick to my routine. I love living a disciplined life — waking up at the crack of dawn, rotating the same meals week after week, and alternating between kickboxing and pilates with some weight lifting, hiking, and yoga here and there. Thinking of spicing up my week is time-consuming and energy-draining. When my brain tells me I should add more color to my wardrobe or try a new restaurant, I think of Mark Zuckerberg. With billions in his pocket, he still wears the same thing daily. I am convinced that imitating the habits of the Zuckerbergs and Bill Gates of the world will produce extraordinary results.
Sundays are boxing circuit days. I love practicing my roundhouse kicks, but my legs could use a day off. There's a bag at my gym with my name on it — front row and center. I like seeing the action as close as possible. I want to see the coach's every little pivot and hand movement. To be in the back is distracting and not challenging enough. I also want to be ready to spar at any time. Today's coach is a professional boxer who just earned another title. He brought out jump ropes, agility ladders, slam balls, and tied hand wraps across two punching bags. Yes, I thought.
Part of the circuit was to squat and throw the slam ball ten feet to my partner. Reality check — I suck at throwing balls. My throws had little power, dropping the ball right in front of him. When it was my turn to catch, I stepped my right foot back to maintain balance. We would find a rhythm for a bit then I would throw the ball poorly again. I remembered joining my sixth-grade volleyball team. I was not good, but joining meant being excused from my classes to practice. "Clearly, I don't play sports," I told him.
The class ended, and I had one single thought — Amazon Prime. Time to practice.