Knitting buddy.

I had my first morning with the professional. I was absolutely terrified. I was excited. I was on fire. I was anxious. I was cold. Really, really cold.

 

I had worked with this professional before. He had guided me through a transformation in the months before I became pregnant with the princess. His help was one of the reasons I became pregnant.

 

Go ahead. Snicker. Let it out. We did.

 

It was a bit of a joke in the family. I had get my hormones and thyroid in check before fertility was possible. Weight loss was a necessity.

 

Refocus.

 

He stayed with me through morning sickness, a root canal, and general pregnancy whining. Somewhere around month four or five I had given up. I had submitted to the myth that pregnant was my free pass on food and mobility. I dropped off the radar. And not for a lack of trying on his part, he was vigilant. But I'm a master of cutting off people that are healthy, supportive and just plain positive.

 

Fast forward three years...

 

A few days after my SIL's posting on the Warrior Dash, his name and email address appeared on my facebook side bar, "Reconnect with the professional...add as friend now." Could the signs be any clearer? I knew that if I was going to be a warrior it was going to be with him at the helm.

 

But...insert ominous sounding music... I had burned our bridge, left him hanging with no explanation. With every ounce of courage in my body I sent him a very pathetic email begging him to take me back as a client. Besides being awesome and in demand, he had no reason to respond. And I really wasn't expecting a response.

 

It didn't take long. He called. Without a missed syllable, an ounce of doubt, or any animosity, he spoke as he had always spoken. I was absolutely thrilled! Yay! Not only did he call me back but he was excited. He was all in. Double yay! "When do you want to start?"

 

Fast forward to 5:30 a.m. 27 degrees.

 

It was cold...

 

I didn't want to leave my warm bed...

 

The princess had coughed all night, the dogs were up and down...

 

this wasn't the best day to start my mission...

 

I knew I could not cancel. No rescheduling. No excuses. If I had given him one more reason to cut me off, I would be stuck with a crappy twenty-something-gum-smacking-spandex-wearing-trainer. It would be me waving the white flag on day one.

 

It wasn't terrible. I had some enthusiasm. I was happy to see him. Grateful for his trust and second chance.

 

We started with a brisk walk.

 

Not bad.

 

He talked. He's a story teller. A good one.

 

He wraps you up in a warm, cozy, comfortable story.

 

Makes you feel safe, like a baby in mama's arms.

 

I was so pleased that I had a nice walking buddy. This was fun. I knew that at any moment we would be exchanging recipes and knitting techiques.

 

Then, bam. He drops it. Smooth as butta...

 

"lets run."

 

Did he not know it was 5:30? A.M.? Did he miss the fact that it was -50 degrees...in my head?

 

Whether he did or did not, he didn't care. He had a job to do. He was in charge. He is the professional.

 

 The whole time I was thinking (whining internally) "are we there yet....'cause I'm gonna die...I want my mommy...I want my knitting buddy back...."

 

When it was all over, despite the gasping for breath, numb tear ducts, frost bite on toes, I had the nerve to say, "that wasn't bad. I'm ready to get serious." Just as soon as I said it I wished I could rewind and delete. Wasn't I just bragging that I had learned to hold my tongue? It was too late. He heard me. I saw it in his eyes.

 

Did I mention that he is the time keeper? Oh yes. The hand that holds the clock rules the world.

 

He found a few extra minutes in our session. Brilliant.

 

Sprints.

 

A million of them, I'm sure of it.

 

Needless to say, I was imobilized the following day.

 

Lesson learned.

 

Be careful what you ask for; if you're going to do something, do it right; if want to get the job done, hire a professional; Keep your mouth shut; etc....