Sunday, July 15, 2007

Success Has to Start Someday

The depths of my inner psyche can be a dangerous and frightenting place. I have the ability to be both highly manipulative and clever, as well as embarrassingly gullible. However, these traits rarely see the light of day, but instead are turned against one another in an epic battle raging within the confines of my mind. The conflict over which they war: my workouts.

Today as I was out for my run I was thinking. Normally I'm only thinking about how much I don't want to be running, but today I was thinking about how cleverly I usually get out of having to run the full 3-4 mile course. Food isn't my problem, I don't find myself longing for a burger and fries, but I will pull out all the stops on trying to find a way out of pushing my body beyond a comfortable workout.

I tell myself that power walking is just as good and I should be satisfied as long as I'm sweating, forcing myself to forget that I'd sweat just standing in the Toro Park 80 degree weather at one in the afternoon (when I often run). Then I believe me, letting me manipulate and bully me into failing at my own goal.

I tell myself that I'll do the cross-trainer when I get home, as to make up for cutting off that last mile and turning around early, because I can't up the resistance on the dirt path I'm on and therefore I'd spend my time more wisely on a machine. But then I go home and shower and "forget" about my deal.

I tell myself that pushing myself any harder might be dangerous. That I may pass out on the trail and no one will find me and I will get eaten by lions, so I slow to a more comfortable pace, convincing myself that the warmth of the sunshine on my legs is actually my muscles working hard and the fat burning away.

I'm smarter than all this. I know if you want your body to really change you have to push it far beyond what you think is reasonable. I have eleven weeks to fit into a dress I refuse to have taken out. Eleven weeks to lose about fifteen pounds. I'm on my crackshakes, but I'm doing something I really haven't done before. I'm pushing my body to the extreme. All this week as my muscles have screamed at me for mercy, I've screamed back at them to roll over and take it like the little bitches they are, and you know what... they submit. When I want to drop to a lower weight or a lower step in my classes, I don't... I'll vomit or pass out first. If I think one hour of workout will suffice, I force myself to remember I've already been doing that and have remained consistently squishy, so two hours is my minimum. If I want to turn back on my run early, I force myself to realize how much failure will disappoint me, and if I don't run the full course today, whats to say I'll complete it tomorrow. Success has to start someday.

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