“It’s not swagger, I’m just sore.”
This is my motto today. Put the signal out and call the dark night please, cuz, holy workout Batman, this girl’s about to go down for the count.
Just kidding. Mostly.
Yes, I am tired. Yes, I am sore. But whatever, I love it. No pain, no gain, tear it down to build it up, face the struggle to lie in ease, stand in the rain to appreciate the sunshine and other metaphorical cliches.
But seriously.
It’s true. And it’s time to own it. Friends, please note, your blame-thanking days are coming to an end, and quickly. Yes, blame-thanking. This is like blame shifting, only in a grateful way, as in being passive aggressively thankful for an experience without acknowledging your own role and participation in it.
For example, this morning I went to an hour of CrossFit and did an incredibly intense WOD. WOD, by the way, could mean “Workout Of (the) Day.” It can also mean “Wanton Opposition (to) Death;” depends entirely on your point of view. Anyhow, post my close encounter with the Grim Reaper, I went home, ate, and went directly to yoga, you know for rebirth and shit. Only um, it’s hot, power vinyasa yoga, not yin yoga. For an hour. In 95 degrees. So. . . ow. ow and more ow.
Now, I could “blame” my coach for working us so hard. I could “blame” my yoga instructor for “making” us do navasana (boat pose) sit-ups with a block until my abs were shaking. My muscles could “thank” them for developing strength and tone. This all could happen. Actually, in the past, it has happened.
But, the truth is, they provided suggestions, I chose to follow them. I chose to do the workouts. I chose to push my body to its limit, both times. No one can do that but me. They can’t “make” me do anything; I choose to do what I do. Thus, the only person I can “blame” is myself. The person I should be thanking, is my body, for being so strong, and my soul, for guiding me through it.
The physical state I am in is not anyone’s “fault,” nor responsibility. It is a series of conscious, active choices that got me here. This is not to say I’m not grateful and thankful for my coaches and instructors- they rock. Their amazing programming and support allows me to maximize my potential; their guidance, wisdom and encouragement helps me to grow as an athlete and as a person. However, at the end of the day, it’s my own brain, my own two feet, my own heart that does the work. They serve as a catalyst for growth and I take it from there. They serve as my inspiration to be better than I was yesterday, every day, and the only person in charge of the reaction after that, is me. I am my own fuel.
Want to be better? Want to grow? Want to find happiness? Get out of your own damn way. Take ownership of your life and your choices. In the words of Byron Katie :
Like this post? Post it, tweet it, pin it, google it, trip on it, or otherwise spread the social love people.Really, really, like it? Subscribe to my feed and get posts delivered in your inbox.Can’t get enough? Stalk me: @CFOLikeaMother, Facebook or Pinterest“Just keep coming home to yourself. You are the one you’ve been waiting for.”
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