I did not want to get out of bed this morning when my alarm went off. It was warm and I felt weak. But I got up anyway.
I forced myself to sit at my laptop and start scrolling through my notes to figure out what I was going to write this week.
I drafted three different essays. All garbage.
I thought of excuses for why I can’t publish something this week. Even started to draft the “I’ve published for 118 weeks in a row and this is my first break” message in my head.
I have to start my workout in an hour. I don’t want to do that either. I’m sore and tired. Feeling a little sick. I’ve lifted or run every single day for twenty-seven days straight.1
I deserve a break this week, don’t I?
~~~
I don’t want to start most of the things I do every day. But I force myself to go through the motions.
Sit down, open the computer, start typing.
Get up, put on your shorts, lace up your shoes.
I do it slowly and lethargically most days.
Some days, my energy picks up and I feel fantastic once I start.
Others, I slog through with no drive or ambition or desire to be there.
I don’t expect my best every day. I don’t expect my best any day. I just expect myself to show up. Whether I have a smile on my face is irrelevant.
~~~
The voice in my head that craves comfort, warmth, and relaxation isn’t going to send me out the door for a cold winter run or force me to sit down and scour my soul for a good essay every week. Those things are not natural to my DNA.
Out of 118 weeks of publishing, I didn’t feel like writing for half of them. Same with the last four weeks of exercising every day.
I always meet resistance when it’s time to start.
But for me to enjoy my days and be content with the person I am, I need to face hard things every day. Once I’ve begun, I embrace the feeling of overcoming and anticipate the sense of accomplishment once I’m done.
As I sit down at my laptop or warm into my workout, the resistance almost always melts away and is replaced by excitement, energy, and passion.
On the days it doesn’t, that’s okay too. I’m still going to finish what I know I need to do even when I don’t feel my best.
Then after days and weeks and months and years, I can look back and say “I’m proud I published on week 119, even though at the time I wanted nothing more than to take a break.”
But I only got to week 119 because I allowed myself to go through the motions when that’s all I could give.
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And a big thanks to
for your edits on the first draft of this essay.Lots of love,
Jack
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I wrote the first draft of this essay on Monday morning. I had woken up 15 minutes before my alarm and laid in bed dreading the moment it went off. My brain started to think of excuses to stay in bed. But I got up. I felt tired, groggy, and run down. I was in the first stage of a cold.
I dragged myself through a three-hour morning writing session. I started three different essays. Didn’t like them. Then I stumbled upon an old note about going through the motions and realized that was exactly what I had been doing all morning.
I wrote a first draft of what you just read then had to move on to my workout. I was feeling sick and really did not want to work out. I delayed it a full hour from my usual start time by attending to other work. But eventually, I dragged myself through the entire workout. I wrote this footnote afterwards when I felt much better because I finished my writing and exercise.
Because I overcame resistance by allowing myself to go through the motions, I’ll be at peace with myself tonight. A tired dog is a happy dog. As am I.
Love the tenacity. Seriously. But as much as you need to push, you need to recover, reenergize yourself, replenish your body. Love the tenacity though.
Thank you for writing. The world is a better place with you sharing your writing in it (: