Last night, I completed 200 burpees in kickboxing. I should say that the 200 burpees were in fact the kickboxing class. I should also clarify that they weren't exactly the burpees illustrated in the link above as I'm still struggling to hop up on my weight, but they were more of lay down stand up and jump kind of repetitions. Regardless of semantics, here is how it went down.
As I arrived for my second round of butt-kicking fun, I was told that I would be doing something different from the class tonight. Okay? I could hear the whispers going around. "What did she do?" and "Why is she being punished?" were spreading like wildfire as instructor Chris set me up. He stated that all I was going to do during the class was 100 burpees. He didn't care how long it took or if I needed to stop for water, and I could break them down any way I would like, but that was going to be my class.
"I can do that," was my reply. To which he said, "I know you can."
With about 20-25 minutes left of class, I had reached 100 reps. What was I going to do? I certainly couldn't just sit down and watch the rest of class. Should I get up and just join them as they finished off? I decided that I would go for "extra credit" and do a few more while I waited for class to end. Unfortunately for me, Chris took notice of this and exclaimed that I could get to 200. Wait, what? I'm just doing extra credit here man... not looking to double what you asked me to do. I mean, I'm an over-achiever, but I don't want to die.
As my body slowed and my breathing intensified, I told Chris I didn't think I could make it to 200 by the end of class. He told me not to worry that he would stay after so that I could complete them. Good lord... I don't want to get to 200 - except that, part of me did want to get there. By the time the class had finished, I had 11 reps left to complete. I was exhausted and sweating like the little piggy I am. The rest of the class joined me as I finished off (quite slowly) the remaining "burpees," after which Chris exclaimed, "You are a rockstar!"
And for a brief moment, I did feel like a rockstar.
It was no small feat for me to complete these. I have a hard time doing 5 of them during regular classes and I just did 200. I should've been completely proud of myself and rejoicing that I didn't keel over, but as soon as I started to allow myself to feel any sort of pride, the whispering demons snuck in to my head.
"You didn't really do burpees. You were merely laying down and standing up with a hop at the end."
"You could have done them so much faster. Why did you keep taking breaks? Too much resting!"
"Why didn't you do 250? If you weren't going to do them properly, you could've at least done more reps."
If it had been anyone other then myself, I would've been cheering them on, telling them they were doing an awesome job, and truly thinking that they were in fact a rockstar. Why can't I just allow myself to be happy and proud, instead of finding reasons to discount what I have accomplished? I just doubled what I was asked to do, and yet, somehow that still isn't good enough in my mind.
This is really something that I need to explore more deeply because it is a definite character flaw. While pushing ones self is important, I also have to be able to enjoy the moment of success, rather than beating myself up for what I have just completed. I honestly don't know how to repair it, other than to force myself into saying that I did a good job and working on believing it.
For now, I am trying to appreciate what I did last night, and allow my bruised knees and skinless toes to recover before I return tomorrow for the next round.