Today I woke up with one thought on my mind: I've got to get to the gym.
I missed my workouts on Monday through Thursday due to a busy work week and a bout with a cold.
Friday night capped a long day when I woke up two hours earlier than normal. Our basketball games finished at 9:15. As I walked to the car I smiled. The gym was open for another 45 minutes. I had just enough time to get in a 2-mile sprint. Came home and weighed myself... even though I mentally track what I've been eating and drinking, the scale is the ultimate judge.
Saturday was five hours of sitting on a bus, five hours of sitting at basketball games, and two hours of sitting in high school hallways. Burning mental calories, and strengthening mental muscles, but that's it.
Today my energy wasn't prepared for doing both a cardio and weight workout, though I owed it to myself.
I decided to just do cardio. In I went.
When I was finished, I found (as is often the case) that I felt so good about where I was, that I pushed myself to do more. And despite (or maybe because of) several days off I was able to finish almost my entire normal weight routine.
Every time I set foot in a weight room I have the most slender arms of any man in the place. I'm not genetically endowed to be that physically strong.
But I am there, faithfully, three times a week, whether I'm hurt or sick or tired. So I feel as strong as anyone. I belong. I am blessed to be a success.
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