Ten Feet Tall and Bulletproof

When I started winding down my frenzied work life a while ago, all I could think was, "I'm a mess." As in, I'm a big old blob of stress. At the same time, my newly liberated self came up for air enough to notice how great my friend was looking. "How?" I begged. I had to know. Miracle drug? Botox? New husband? What? I'll do anything! (Not the new husband, but I was game for everything else.) Her secret was...kickboxing. Huh. Wasn't expecting that. But she looked really, really good. So I tried it.

It works. Something about the combination of the intense physical workout, the mental concentration, and the ability to hurl all the stress of the day into a mean right cross. Still old, but much less blob and much less stress. Better than botox any day.

This is a long-winded intro to the message of the week, which we all get at the end of class. I'm not normally a "self help affirmation" type of gal, but for a few minutes at least, I keep an open mind.

Here's today's: Be ten feet tall and bulletproof. Physically impossible, but it's an attitude thing. If you're above the roar of the crowd, you've got a great view of what lies ahead, and perspective on how to handle it. And the bulletproof part? Just think of it as "I am rubber, you are glue" for grown ups.