The workout Thursday morning was a complete and total beating. I was still so sore from the workout on Tuesday and it didn't help that the humidity was 100 percent. We had one hell of a storm go through the night before and the air was just so thick with moisture. It was like the inside of a dog's mouth without the bad breath.
After the warm up and the workout review, the music comes blasting on. This is very forceful, driving music. It's usually heavy metal, rap, hip hop, etc. Something with a really good, pounding beat because it sorta helps you get through the workout. When you're giving it your all and you think you just can't do one more rep, that beat is like a lifeline. Sometimes it's all you've got left to punch it out.
Music/songs always evoke certain special, everyday or childhood memories for me. Like the first song the Hubs and I ever danced to; The Eagles and Fleetwood Mac always remind me of summer days, fresh-cut grass and drinking from the water hose; hearing Nat King Cole sing The Christmas Song and I can smell the cookies and cakes my mother would bake during the holiday season.
The memories can run the gamut of emotions for me. Sometimes I can hear a song and the memory it elicits is so strong that I'm brought to tears wishing for bygone days, or makes me giggle with shear delight at the rekindling of a long forgotten remembrance.
When I workout though, I don't hear the music. All I feel is the pounding beat that reverberates from the walls to the floor to my feet and through my body that propels me forward. Feeling that beat, I don't have to pay attention to the song, it's superfluous, and I can focus on the exercise.
Well, I was on the last of my Dirty 30 Thursday morning. The TRX rows aren't bad, but when you've done a lot of arm work before that, it can be tough. I was hot, sweaty, fatigued and pretty darn near to hurling. It's been a while since I've had that sensation. But I knew there was a light at the end of the tunnel, just one more to go.
I did 15 rows and had to stop for a second. Arms shaking, nausea rearing its ugly head, and then I actually heard the song playing. It was Tubthumping by Chumbawamba. I was immediately brought back to 1997 in the car listening to my little three-year-old niece singing this song with the radio.
I can't begin to tell you how stinking adorable this kid was and still is, consequently she's the reason the Hubs and I decided to start having kids of our own the following year. Anyway, she's now 20 years old and off at Texas A&M on a powerlifting scholarship. Thinking of my niece and how supportive she is of me and my exercise kick, I knocked out the last 15 rows and it felt really good finishing. Music can be a powerful thing.
Thanks Chumbawamba for the inspiration!
