Worked out again tonight, so I'm feeling content in that my inner asskicker visited me again when I really needed her. I know it's a her, because only a woman would kick my ass like that. I was not quite into the first half of my run on the elliptical treadmill, and it was programmed for the difficult run, the one designed to simulate running uphill every other minute. I was convinced for a moment that I was going to die, that there was no way I was going to be able to finish this relatively small run. I thought very self defeating thoughts, you know - you'll never lose this weight and have your old shape again, just have the balls to go ahead and get fat - and almost gave up for a microsecond before the booming voice came out and rocketed through my head.
Oh no you don't, motherfucker! If you have to have a heart attack and die on this treadmill then so be it, but you WILL. NOT. GET. OFF. UNTIL. TIME. IS. UP. Now suck it up and do what you have to do, you knew this was going to be hard, so just fucking suck it up and move your ass. I know your legs are on fire, they're supposed to feel like that. People do this every day, just don't stop. Ten more minutes and you can stop, but not now - you cannot stop now - don't even think about stopping.
And with that, I felt that surging anger again - the anger that took me up that mile long hill on my bike at the insane angle last summer. I chanted to myself "This makes me stronger, this makes me feel good"
over and over. I hit my stride within a minute or two and finished the run. Determined as I was, if the gym had caught fire I'd have burned up in that bitch but no way was I getting off that treadmill.
It is a great product of age to teach yourself something about yourself that you never knew. It is great pushing your boundaries and feeling fearlessness. It is great hearing yourself say "I can do this!"
For ten painful yet blissful minutes this evening, I felt a complete release from my frustration. I can't wait until Thursday's workout.