It’s only appropriate that at the point that I’m feeling the most restless, the most frustrated, the most tired, that I should pull back the Post-it note to reveal:
After my mad rant yesterday, I worked out. And I tuned in to one thing: Chalene’s positive motivational words.
“You can do this.” “This is about honoring yourself for what you’re doing to improve yourself.” “Don’t give up.”
It’s like she knew.
I go through these phases where nothing I do is enough; my job isn’t enough, my health isn’t enough, my creativity isn’t enough. I want to fix everything and all at once. I am in the midst of one of those phases right now.
Once again, the only way out is through.
So today, I woke up, and I did Drench. And halfway through, I started crying.
My muscles were simply done. It’s probably in part due to my late workout yesterday; this morning’s workout was less than ten hours later.
For some people, muscle fatigue or “failure” is what you want to accomplish. Chalene says so herself at times. But when you must constantly keep your core engaged in order to prevent a relapse of your chronic back injury, “failure” is not an option.
In the meantime I kept going, and sure enough, transitioning into a side plank, I fell backwards, collapsing to the ground. That’s when the tears came.
I cried because it’s simply not fair. This injury limits me, and even if I truly can do anything, as Chalene so often insists, this injury makes that happen much more slowly. Not. Fair.
After I fell, I did a mental once over of my back. I didn’t feel any pain, so I kept going. More carefully, more lightly. But even through my continuing tears, I still kept going.
This situation might not be fair, but that certainly isn’t going to stop me.