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Throughout my life I’ve been blessed with friendships that have made me grow. I’m fortunate that my girlfriends are smart, drama-free, achievers. The fabulous women I call friends believe that: small minds discuss other people, mediocre minds discuss events, great minds discuss ideas.

Once, I had a very stressful writing deadline. My friend Lisa Craig told me she’d be my designated worrier. She said, “You write; I’ll worry.” She went on to say that she’d do a really good job for me. She’d even have mild panic attacks from time to time.

What a wild concept, and it worked. When I would freak out about how little time I had remaining, I would think, “Lisa’s worrying. I don’t need to. I just need to write.” I was able to sharpen my thinking, quit worrying, and get back to creating.

Of course, she never had a panic attack on my behalf, but the idea that I didn’t have to worry changed my frame of references.

Recently my friend Angela Fobianke challenged me. Some months ago, I decided I wanted to play competitive racquetball. (What?! A competitive sport at my age??) Angela was one of the only people I told about my wild and crazy idea. She said, “Of course you can become an athlete!”

I hired a coach and stepped up my workout schedule with my personal trainer (who also said, Go for it!). I now weight train a couple of days a week. My trainer is adorable. Several weeks ago, when I hit 115lbs on squats (more than my body weight), he goes, “Lean and mean, squatting 115!”

Angela and I were munching salad at our favorite neighborhood café and when I told her what Ben said, I misspoke. I said, “Lean and mean, squatting 215!”

We looked at each other.

Angela’s eyes lit up.

Oh. No. No, no, no, no, no. No way. No way could I ever squat more than double my weight. Hey, after all, I’m a girl! And I’m not even five feet tall.

But Angela would have none of it. She challenged me. She told me to contact Ben immediately. I reluctantly sent him a text message. (I still can’t believe alcohol wasn’t involved.)

Ben said, “Of course you can squat 215. It’ll take nine months to a year to get you there. But yeah.”

So…thanks (I think!), Angela!

My squat is now at 185 lbs. My deadlift is 165 lbs. (Full disclosure, I’m setting personal records on bench press, but I’m still not where I want it to be. I’ve managed 75 lbs, but I have trouble controlling the weight for more than three reps.)

Because of the amazing friends in my life, I reach for more, accomplish more.

It works the other way, too. I dragged poor Angela to a 5k on Thanksgiving morning. We both achieved something we didn’t think we could that morning.

Celebrating together is tremendous fun, too.

As women, we’re blessed with our friendships.

I hope your friendships enrich you as mine do me. Here’s to YOU.

1 comment:

Lisabet Sarai said...

Interesting notion, Sierra, getting someone else to be your designated worrier!

As for your weight regimen, well - my back doesn't even want to think about it. But I admire you!