Discipline, Not Motivation

An hour later in bed than usual. That was the whole story of the morning.

I woke up feeling ick. Not sick. Ick. That heavy, low-grade fog where your body is technically fine and your brain has already started negotiating. Rolled over. Took my Synthroid. Lay there and thought about not going.

Then I got up.

Not because I felt inspired. Not because some internal fire lit itself at 4 am. I got up because that is what I said I would do, and because motivation is a terrible foreman. It shows up when the work is easy and disappears the moment it isn't.

Discipline showed up instead. It usually does.

I did my daily strength work first. Same as always. The unglamorous stuff that keeps the hips honest and my lats strong. Then I walked to the gym reflecting on my planned workout.

A 13.1K dress rehearsal. Ten miles.

So I started slowly and let Coach Bennett get my head in the game.

10.06 miles. 10:25 per mile. 1 hour 44 minutes. Yes, I am slow AF, but I got it done. 

You are going to have a morning like this. Probably this week.

You will wake up an hour short on sleep, feel vaguely terrible, and construct an extremely reasonable argument for staying in bed. The argument will be well-made. It will cite evidence. It may even be right.

Do it anyway. Start slow. Let the warm-up do its job.

The days you don't feel like it are the days that actually help you grow, physically and mentally. The days you feel like it were never in question.

I was scared of a long run. Then I ran ten miles.

Be well.