This morning… I awoke with an overwhelming spirit of “can’t”.
Stardate: 21st February, 2016
Some of you know me: Corey Springer; that insane fitness guy from St. George – “I mean… did you SEE what he made those people do with those tires? Oh hell, are they about to push trucks?!!” – That guy.
Some of you are clients of mine… and aware of my super-long work days: 7-12 one-hour long Personal Training (PT) slots per day, plus 3 hour-long bootcamps per week, plus a couple hours per day of administration and cleaning/upkeep.
Some of you, just see the end product.
Both groups of you miss two things, that I plan on sharing with you today.
And they are:
- Despite appearances, I struggle with my own personal fitness… daily!
- Sometimes, despite my best intentions, I fail.
Today, I’d like to talk to you about not failing.
Today, I woke with a spirit of “can’t”. For whatever reason, I missed several workouts this week. To accommodate, I’d thrown in some sessions on the days I had bootcamp. So, needless to say, by the end of those days, I was pretty fried mentally and emotionally. Friday and Saturday were like that. Today, Sunday, after my first client – I had absolutely no interest in doing anything exercise-related.
A glass of wine maybe. Some cuddle-time with my daughter and pups, maybe. The cardio I was supposed to do? Hell no.
“I can’t. I am not able.” – These are the words I’d told myself over and over, from the time my alarm went off at 4 a.m… conditioning myself to a day of failure.
And, I would have failed… had I not walked past the mirror and caught a glimpse of the sloped-shouldered, dejected guy there.
It was me… but it wasn’t. The weight of my words bore down on my frame, contorting me into someone unrecognisable. Someone who I, in that moment, no longer wanted to be.
I grabbed my bike. I grabbed my gear. I whispered to myself: “I can.” And, I hurried out through the door. In my haste, I even forgot my water.
2 kilometres in – “OH MY GOD! My legs are burning. How am I going to get home?!”
4.4 kilometres in – “This isn’t so bad. But how am I going to get home?”
7 kilometres in – “My lips! Oh God! I’m parched! But, I’m making it! Why is there so much broken glass on the road? Will I get a flat tire? Is that RAIN I smell?!”
8.9 kilometres in – “I can do this. I can.”
10.94 kilometres – As I live at the top of a hill, I had to sprint the last 50 metres. My lungs were shot. My legs were shot. My legs were shot. Did I mention that my legs were shot?
…but I made it.
I wouldn’t have, if I hadn’t fed my subconscious different words.
You may have rolled your eyes at this point, if you haven’t done so multiple times before now. I get it. I truly do.
I don’t look like someone who’d understand your struggle. I’m not the fat teen I was (- the fat teen that hardly anyone remembers as being so, because my current persona is so overpoweringly-Mr.-fitness). I’m not the heavily medicated asthmatic teen I used to be.
I’m also not the 20 years old, with no responsibilities.
I’m you: mid-30s, a full time business (-three really); a wife, a daughter, two dogs, and bills that need to be paid every month.
I am your body issues, your deadlines, your logic. All of those things affect my life, as they do yours.
And, like you… I am also my words.
So… Will YOU join me, in changing your defining phrase today?
Yours in fitness,
– Corey Springer
Apollo Fitness Barbados
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