I am writing to you from Austin, Texas where it’s currently 75, sunny, and breezy.
Since I last shared, I’ve gotten into a routine that feels good. It’s a rhythm that generates energy, strength, and pride.
But mostly what I’m thinking and feeling is a sense of grateful peace. Getting to this point is what the previous months have been about. Continuing and changing and knowing that this is my life and feeling an overwhelming sense of contentment. Being comfortable with the pain and challenge of growing stronger and welcoming it daily because what it gives me is so much better than what the fear takes from me.
The truth? It is never easy. I am anxious before every workout. I am anxious before meals. But I conquer that anxiety and no longer let it steal pieces of my dreams.
My crutch is no longer “but I don’t feel good.” I don’t know for sure what causes some of my physical ailments – but if I skipped a workout every time I felt sick I’d never know what I know today. I’d never know that I could wake up on a Saturday morning 12 hours from home, stomach doing it’s “you’re on my time b*tch! I do what I want!”, my head saying “I’m contemplating an AWESOME ache for today,” my whole body still feeling off, and yet still lacing up my shoes, dealing with the discomfort, stretching, and grabbing the bullhorn of my will and telling everything to shut up because this morning? We. Are. Running. We are winning. We are going to accomplish this goal. And we are going to feel amazing.
And then doing it. The team that is my body. Progress, baby. Pride. Now where’s my trophy?