I can’t stand on one foot. In fact, I have terrible balance just in general. Even on two feet.
I blame it on my vision issues. Depth perception problems. Which exist. A doctor told me so.
It also has to do with anxiety. It just makes me nervous to feel like I can’t trust my footing. I start feeling shaky. Then I get self-conscious. Then I get more shaky. Then it’s “Katie bar the door”. Here comes a rush of adrenaline and I can be dealing with panic before you know it.
The mistake I have made is sharing this with my trainer. Her name is Kindra. She is great at what she does. Unfortunately, she also listens well.
It’s Monday morning. Training day.
The piece of equipment above is a simple step. It’s seventeen inches off the floor. You have to shift your weight back and forth to step up on it. Step down. It scares me. My legs shake when I try to do it. I have to fight negative thoughts. “You are too weak. You are too old. You are going to fall over.”
The other equipment that I kick when I walk past it is the infamous BOSU, seen to the right. It’s wiggly in the middle. You stand on it. The whole point – to use your core to achieve balance. I see other people mastering feats of insurmountable athleticism on the silly thing.
I am doing well to do a few squats. My skinny legs just quiver.
The BOSU is 5 inches off the floor. What am I quivering for?
So irrational. The nature of panic. Irrationality.
So why try to do all this? Does “Help, Help! I’ve fallen and I can’t get up!” wring a bell?
I leave pretty soon for the gym. I will continue to talk to Kindra. Admit my terror. Because it helps to admit your vulnerabilities. Even if I have to hold her hand and feel a little foolish.
I will continue to try to conquer my fear… of falling five inches.
I ask my patients to do it every day.